Unforced Rhythms of Grace

When I lived in my house the blinds were closed the vast majority of the time. The main reason for this was that I lived on a busy street and the bus stop was in front of my house. I didn’t want people staring in at me while I was on the couch watching television. To some extent I think I also wanted to hide away from the world. Interestingly it was only when I was showing my house to sell it that I figured out that the amount of light that came into the house was one of its’ best selling features. Now I am living in the condo my blinds are open in the living room most of the time. I like to let the light in but I also enjoy being able to see out. I have a beautiful view of the river and downtown. Even in the winter I like being able to see the weather and look down into the parking lot to see how much snow is on the cars and how many people have ventured out. I have been thinking that having the blinds open is kind of a metaphor for my life. Sometimes I don’t let people see in. But in

For the summer our church is having services on Thursday in addition to Sunday.  I always tend to go for the smaller more intimate gatherings.  So when I found out they were having a Thursday gathering I offered to help.  I am doing the media (running the software that puts the worship songs and pastor’s presentation) for the summer.  It feels really good to be involved again. We had a guest speaker who was talking about communion.  He talked about how some people, especially those who grew up in the church, struggle with taking communion when they don’t feel like they have it all together.  That feeling is based on the following scripture: Therefore, whoever eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of sinning against the body and blood of the Lord. (1Cor11:27, NIV)   The speaker argued that the passage is not referring to sin or struggle or doubt.  He said a lot of good things but the thing that stuck out for me was to think of the opposi

I am wondering about certainty. There is a book called The Myth of Certainty that claims no one can be certain of God’s existence or attributes. The author claims that at best our search for God is like looking through a fog. I know people who act as if they are certain. Their relationship with God is as if He is in the room with them. They just seem to have this natural ability to trust Him, they seem to get what exactly it means to ‘rest in Him.’ Sometimes I feel like I have some sort of defect that doesn’t allow me to unquestioningly trust in God’s promises. Yet the Bible says we are fearfully and wonderfully made. So what does that mean? What is the purpose of my lack of steadfastness? Or do I even trust enough to believe that I am wonderfully made?