Author Archives: Juliana Lopes

by Kim Reisman
Executive Director
World Methodist Evangelism

My mother and sister are artists. I am not. I have other gifts (lest anyone worry about my self-esteem), but art isn’t one of them. That’s why I love spending time with my mother and sister. There is something entirely different and inspiring about the creativity God has given them.

Years ago, my sister spent a week with me while her son attended a camp at a nearby university. One of the many reasons I looked forward to that week was because we were planning to undertake an outdoor art project while she was there – something I never would have done on my own.

We had recently finished a kitchen remodel and I had a good deal of tile left over, so we decided to create a tile mural on the side of our deck. I was so excited! Of course, when I thought about a tile mural, I envisioned using the existing square tiles to create something nice, neat, and orderly. Not Kerry. She envisioned a mosaic. Why don’t we just break these tiles up and use the pieces to make something new?

A mosaic? (gulp) Ok….

It was hard work. And fun.

And we were quite pleased with the finished product. It brought beauty to my back yard and a smile to my face every time I looked at it, reminding of my sister, her joy in living, her unboundaried creativity, and willingness to risk doing big things. It was a source of encouragement to me as well. Kerry wasn’t the only bold one! I had stepped out of my neat, orderly box, dared to create a mosaic, and it worked!

But then winter came, one of the most bitter we had seen in years – record lows, snow, ice, more snow. A possible precursor to the record-breaking winter weather we’ve had in more recent years. It seemed that spring would never arrive. But it finally did and when we began to tend to the yard, we discovered that my beloved mosaic hadn’t survived the sub-zero (Fahrenheit, mind you) temperatures.

I was heartbroken. It hadn’t worked after all. My mosaic lay in a crumbled heap.

My husband, John, knew that I would have a hard time throwing any of it away so he swept it all up and put it in a big bucket. Spring gave way to summer and then to fall. The bucket stayed on the deck where John had left it. Winter came once more – another hard one. It lingered like the last one, but finally it was nice enough to get back into the yard. I began clearing beds and getting my pots ready to plant.

And there was the bucket, still sitting there filled with all the broken pieces. I decided I had to do something about the remnants so I sifted through them and came across a big chunk with the various smaller pieces still intact. You could even tell what it was – the head of one of the geckos in the mosaic. His red eyes shone and I realized he was still kind of pretty, even though he was broken. I had recently bought a big candle globe that I had planned to line with rocks, but decided that he would look nice nestled inside. As I began to arrange him in the candle globe, I realized that all those mosaic pieces – even though they were broken – if they were gathered together, all those pieces would look quite lovely inside the candle globe.

That big candle globe filled with the broken mosaic pieces of my beloved project has brought me great joy over these past years. Not in the same way as before, of course. But each time I see it, I’m reminded of my sister, who continues to challenge me with the freedom of her creativity. And I’m still encouraged to be bold and to take creative risks.

But there has always been something different about this new thing that emerged out of the old. Each time I light the candles and watch the light dance and the mosaic pieces glow and shimmer, I’m reminded of the mysterious intermingling of beauty and brokenness, brokenness and beauty.

As I have journeyed in faith, one of the most significant discoveries that has helped move me forward is the recognition that even though the Holy Spirit is always moving within us and around us, we seldom become aware of that presence until we are willing to be honest about the depth of both the beauty and the brokenness within each of us. But once we’re willing to be honest, the Holy Spirit moves within us in ways we could never have anticipated. And the integrity and authenticity of our witness grows in tandem with that honesty.

In this time of Lenten reflection and preparation, I pray you would be willing to open yourself to the presence of the Holy Spirit that comes when we are honest about the depth of both our beauty and our brokenness. And even more importantly, that you would be empowered to share honestly with others about both of those things, so that all can know that nothing is beyond the power of the Holy Spirit to heal, mend, and transform.

by Kim Reisman
Executive Director
World Methodist Evangelism

Scripture focus:

When Jesus came to the region of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” “Well,” they replied, “some say John the Baptist, some say Elijah, and others say Jeremiah or one of the other prophets. ”Then he asked them, “Who do you say I am?” Simon Peter answered, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God.” Jesus replied, “You are blessed, Simon son of John, because my Father in heaven has revealed this to you. You did not learn this from any human being. Now I say to you that you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church, and all the powers of hell with not conquer it. (Matthew 16:13-18, NLT)

Ever since he was a little boy, my nephew, Jacob, has been very in tune with his instincts. Frequently when playing with his friends, if things started to get out of hand in some way or move in a risky direction, you could hear him say cautiously, “I don’t know… I’ve got a bad feeling about this…” Throughout Scripture we see stories of persons who were able to trust their instincts as they followed God. They were aware of the ways and dangers of the world; and as they lived out their faith, they trusted their instincts not only as a source of protection but as a signal of how to follow God.

Much to the displeasure of his opponents, Nehemiah dedicated himself to rebuilding the wall. His enemies, Sanballat and Tobiah, made several attempts to get him to stop; but at each turn Nehemiah recognized that “they were just trying to intimidate us, imagining that they could break our resolved and stop the work. So I prayed for strength to continue the work.” (Nehemiah 6:9, NLT) Finally, under the guise of trying to keep Nehemiah safe, a friend urged him to stop working and go to the safety of the Temple; but Nehemiah’s instinct told him “that God had not spoken to him but that he had uttered this prophecy against me because Tobiah and Sanballat had hired him.” (Nehemiah 6:12, NLT)

Jesus had an innate sense of who was trustworthy and who was not. When the Pharisees were questioning in their hearts Jesus’ pronouncements of forgiveness, believing them to be blasphemous, Jesus “perceived in his spirit” their thoughts and confronted them (Mark 2:8, NRSV). When Peter declared him to be the Messiah, Jesus pronounced him the rock on which he would build the church, a profound sign of his trust that Peter would come through for him in the end.

Our inner instincts are a significant source of guidance as our lives unfold. While there remains much to learn about how instinct operates, I believe it is the prompting of God’s Holy Spirit within us. William Law was an 18^th-century English clergyman whose writings have been very influential. He described this prompting well when he wrote:

The book of all books is in your own heart, in which are written and engraven the deepest lessons of divine instruction; learn therefore to be deeply attentive to the presence of God in your hearts, who is always speaking, always instructing, always illuminating that heart that is attentive to him.*

Our instincts are the natural means in which God communicates with us about truths we have no other way of comprehending. Learning to trust those instincts, being deeply attentive to the presence of God in our hearts, enables us to make strong connections between our faith and our daily lives. It is a way we become more in tune with our instincts, more attentive to the inner voice of God communicating with us. Prayer, along with other spiritual disciplines is the way we learn to trust the inner promptings we receive as we negotiate the challenges of life.

I find it interesting that our intestines are lined with the same type of tissue that surrounds our brains. In a strange way for me that similarity seems to account for the way our “gut” communicates with us. We must be open to that communication. We must be attentive so that we can hear God speaking to us, instructing us, and illuminating us as we make the connections between our faith and the activity of our lives. In this way we will better hear when God guides us saying, “This is the way, walk in it.” (Isaiah 30:21, NRSV)

As you pray and fast this month, reflect on the ways you have trusted your instincts. Recall situations in which trusting your instincts led you in the right direction. As you do this, I pray you will deepen your awareness of what your instincts are telling you and that you will remember that God communicates with us through our “gut,” revealing truths we have no other way of knowing.

*Joy of the Saints, Templegate, 1988, p90.

A Sweet Gentleness

by Kim Reisman
Executive Director
World Methodist Evangelism

Today is Ash Wednesday, the day Christians all over the world mark the beginning of Lent, many with ashes and prayer and fasting. This is not a day when we usually read the resurrection portion of the gospels, but considering the powerful and visible ways the Holy Spirit has been moving these past few weeks, this may be a good year to do just that.

In the last chapter of Luke’s gospel we are given both a promise and a commission. Jesus promises to send his Holy Spirit and instructs us to take the “message of repentance to all the nations” because “there is forgiveness of sins for all who turn to me.” (Luke 24:47, NLT)

Repentance. Forgiveness. These are the themes of Lent, and, it seems, the focus of the Holy Spirit’s work in these days – a work that is clearly spreading far beyond its beginnings at Asbury University.

I’ve been moved by what I’ve read about students publicly confessing addictions to pornography, anger at God, bitterness of heart, despair as the result of difficult family situations. It is clear there is pervasive anxiety, depression and deep woundedness. And yet these same students are proclaiming healing, joy, and a deep love of God like they have never before experienced.*

I’ve been amazed at the consistency of the descriptions of what the Holy Spirit is doing. Joy and peace are pervasive. This is clearly a tender and beautiful outpouring of the Spirit, marked by sweet gentleness.*

What a contrast to our world. We are in a thrashing time. A time marked by our breathtaking ability to do violence to each other. We hurt those we love most with our words and our deeds. We let others down by the things we do and the things we don’t do. Our world is filled with greed and indifference, lust and envy, gluttony, anger, and pride. Our lives are marked by anxiety and depression, broken relationships, and damaged hearts.

And amidst all this thrashing, the Holy Spirit is moving with a sweet gentleness. In an age of anxiety and violence, God is reaching out to us with peace.

As we begin this season of Lent, my prayer is that each of us would remember that we are witnesses to an amazing truth: there is forgiveness for all who turn to Jesus Christ. God is searching for each of us, offering us forgiveness, joy, and peace. And God’s goodness and kindness and holiness and grace and presence and creating power and salvation are here now. They are all available to us now. I pray you would experience that reality. That the sweet gentleness of the Holy Spirit would wash over you in a way that heals, redeems, and restores. And that you, in turn, would channel that same Holy Spirit gentleness to those who so badly need a word of peace and joy.

*Suzanne Nicholson – When Streams of Living Water Become a Flood: Revival at Asbury University.

by Rob Haynes
Content Development Team
World Methodist Evangelism

A few years ago, in a town not too far away, there was a traffic accident involving a car and a motorcycle. The person driving the car was unhurt and was able to walk away from the accident. However, the motorcyclist was trapped under the car and unable to move, though he was still conscious and alert. A witness to the accident yelled out that the car was now on fire. If someone did not act soon, the motorcyclist would perish.

The accident and subsequent fire drew a crowd on the busy street. One person stepped forward to test his strength at lifting the 4,000-pound car off the trapped man, but it would not budge. One by one, people stepped forward to help. With the contributions of several in the crowd they were able to lift the car enough to pull the motorcyclist to safety as emergency crews arrived to extinguish the flames. It was through the collective efforts of the group, no matter how individually small, that they were able to save the man who could not be saved through one individual’s actions.

The Bible teaches that small contributions can lead to tremendous things when used collectively in Ecclesiastes 4:12 “A three-stranded cord is not easily broken.” This wisdom comes in the middle of an instruction from the Teacher that work done solely for oneself is futile. The chapter reminds us that two people can help each other out when needed, but there is an extra measure of strength when three work or more together. The image of the rope is a powerful one. Much like the people trying to lift the car, even if three ropes are working at the same task but doing it alone, they will not be as strong as they are when they work together. If you make a three-stranded cord, the rope is exponentially stronger than when the three strands of rope are detached from one another and work alone.

Jesus repeats this promise when he reminds us that: “where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.” (Matthew 18:20) Even when two Christians are gathered in the Name of Jesus, the Holy Spirit moves among them making that strong, three-stranded cord. One richness of our heritage as the People Called Methodists is the understanding that our faith is not to be only expressed in personal holiness. It must also be lived in community with other Christians and expressed in acts of love. John Wesley was emphatic that “the gospel of Christ knows of no religion, but social; no holiness, but social holiness.”  Some people have misunderstood this as a message to only seek to rework political systems, economic structures, or social norms. However, that misses some important points of Wesley’s message and the gospel of Jesus Christ. Social holiness is intended to help one another to grow more in the image of Jesus in every way.

The richness of the theological heritage of the Methodist movement teaches us that use of Bands, Classes, and Societies were an important force in the revival that began in England in the 1700’s and is alive in many parts of the world today. Social Holiness happens in a variety of settings: a gathering of a handful of people in a Band, a group of a dozen or so in a Class, or a larger worship service in a Society. These can help someone grow in an existing relationship with God or introduce new people to faith in Jesus Christ. All of them provide a space for people to grow in community with one another.

There is one more interesting thing to point out about that three-stranded rope and Wesleyan Social Holiness. To realize their full strength, the fibers of a rope cannot all be twisted in a uniform direction and manner. Rather, they must be twisted in such a way that they provide just the right amount of friction against one another. In doing so, they become stronger. Just as the maker of the rope has one purpose in this design, it is important that we come together for one purpose: growing more like Jesus. We expect people to put away the sin that so easily entangles and anything that hinders us from pursuing the race marked out for us. At the same time, we recognize that not everyone has to be just like us. Rather, we learn more from the richness of the diversity that God gives us.

I encourage you to find a group of people to grow in God’s grace in the Wesleyan way. If you already have such a group, invite others who need to what it means to follow Jesus. You will find yourself growing stronger in the Lord together. And, hey, you may just provide the rescue that someone else needs.

by Kim Reisman
Executive Director
World Methodist Evangelism

Scripture focus:

The Lord is righteous in everything he does; he is filled with kindness. The Lord is close to all who call on him sincerely. He fulfills the desires of those wo fear him; he hears their cries for help and rescues them. The Lord protects all those who love him, but he destroys the wicked. (Psalm 145:17-20, NLT)

In Jesus in Blue Jeans: A Practical Guide to Everyday Spirituality, Laurie Beth Jones tells of serving as the executive director of a YWCA Girl’s camp. There was a girl, Carol, at the camp who had been a tremendous challenge to her. One day Carol invited Laurie Beth to walk with her up the mountain. About two-thirds of the way up, Carol stepped off the trail and asked Laurie Beth to look down. When she did, she saw a small area a few yards off the path, which had been cleared of all the weeds and brush and was surrounded by a carefully constructed circle of rocks. “I cleared away everything but the wildflowers,” Carol said self-consciously as Laurie Beth looked around. “From here you can see all of us down below,” she said as she pointed out the recreation field and each of the cabins. “That is why I picked this spot.” Carol continued tentatively, “I know I’ve been a lot of trouble for you…and I thought this might be a good place for you to come and get some answers.” Laurie Beth responded, “That is beautiful, Carol, I will call this ‘The Answering Place.’” (Laurie Beth Jones, Jesus in Blue Jeans: A Practical Guide to Everyday Spirituality, Hyperion, 1997, p 151-152)

As we move through our lives, it seems at every turn we’re confronted by questions. Questions about how we should behave, what we should believe, questions about our commitments, our priorities, our decision-making. Yet many of us forget that there is a place where we can go for answers. We lose sight of the fact that God is close by and available, ready to meet us wherever we are in order to hear us and respond. It is easy to become distracted and even overwhelmed by the demands of our lives so that the sense of God’s closeness begins to fade.

Moses often went up the mountain to the place where he would meet God and receive direction. When Elijah was fleeing from Jezebel’s soldiers, he went into the wilderness, encountered God in a still small voice, and discovered what he was to do next. As the time for Jesus’ crucifixion drew near, he went to the Mount of Olives to pray. It was his “answering place.” He knew God would be there to meet him, to listen, to answer all the questions he may have had and to guide him into his future.

In all the times of our lives, but especially as we approach the season of Lent, we need to be deliberate about creating answering places where we can meet God. Too often we act in haste, obtaining information but never taking enough time to carefully contemplate what we’ve learned. We’re faced with decisions and challenges but work to address them without tapping any of our faith resources. We need to step away, find a place and time where we can meet God, open ourselves to God’s movement within us, and seek God’s guidance and creative power in our lives. Laurie Beth Jones writes, “I need a viewpoint that allows me to look down on the everyday happenings of my life and see them as God sees them, placed in their proper perspective.” (p152) That is a viewpoint we all need; that is a viewpoint that strengthens the connection between faith and daily life. But we will be unable to gain such a viewpoint without deliberately seeking answering places, places where we can go to meet God, to come to know God better, and to allow God to inhabit the center of our lives.

Do you have an answering place? I hope so, and I pray that you are deliberate about going there. If not, I pray that you might find an answering place. A place where you can meet God and reconnect to the power God offers to direct and sustain you. And I pray that you would gain a God’s-eye view of the everyday happenings of your life so that you might receive answers to your questions and be guided into your future.

by Paulo Lopes
Director of Emerging Leadership
World Methodist Evangelism

“When they came to Jesus, they saw the man who had been possessed by the legion of demons, sitting there, dressed and in his right mind; and they were afraid. Those who had seen it told the people what had happened to the demon-possessed man—and told about the pigs as well. Then the people began to plead with Jesus to leave their region.” (Mark 5:15-17)

It’s one of the hardest questions I have learned to ask over the years. It’s hard because it keeps me honest in ministry. Here it is: “Do I really want Jesus to show up in … (this situation, this challenge, this relationship, etc.)?”

The truth is that as exciting as it can be to look forward to what God wants to do in us and through us, sometimes it makes us a bit anxious, nervous. Sometimes, it goes beyond that, even turning into fear. This is precisely what happened to the community in the fifth chapter of the gospel of Mark. When Jesus showed up in this community, they suddenly lost a huge part of their livelihood. Yes, He had done a great thing for a demon-possessed man living by himself in a cave. Yes, something had to be done about that situation. However, in doing so he was messing with things they cared deeply about. So, they asked Him to leave.

The truth is we are more like those people than we care to admit. Most of us want Jesus to show up and to make things better. Fair enough. Jesus said he came to bring us abundant life, and that’s what his presence brings.

The problem is that in addition to wanting an abundant life, we usually want everything else to remain the same. 

We want business as usual. Status quo intact. This is true for us on personal levels, but also when it comes to our communities, our cities, and our nations.

We want Jesus PLUS economic prosperity. We want Jesus PLUS safety. Jesus PLUS our jobs. Jesus plus ____________ (fill the blank with the things you think you need).

Jesus doesn’t always work like that, though. It’s not that safety, security, and prosperity cannot coexist with Jesus and his movement among us. It’s just that our desire for safety, security, and prosperity at the expense of Jesus cannot coexist with Jesus and his movement among us.

It may just be that what stands between us and the powerful manifestation of the presence of Jesus in our life is the very thing we believe MUST coexist alongside him. Big things like the economy and politics. Or smaller things like our friends, or our schedules.

But in order to give us what we need – abundant life – sometimes God has to take away some things we think we really want. The things we hold onto most tightly are often those which we need to let go of most desperately.

In the gospel of Luke chapter 19, we read the story of Zacchaeus who instead of hesitating, put everything he owned on the line to ensure that Jesus would come to his house. After Jesus invites himself, verse 7 tells us the people began to mutter “He has gone to be the guest of a sinner”. Zacchaeus promptly offers to give away much of his possession in order to make things right and hopefully guarantee that Jesus would not change his mind. Jesus’ response was “Today salvation has come to this house, because this man, too, is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.” (vs. 9-10)

On the other side of the risk Zacchaeus decided to take, was the abundance of life that comes with Jesus’ presence. May you and I be willing to take risks for the sake of God’s manifest presence in our lives.

by Kim Reisman
Executive Director
World Methodist Evangelism

I have been transfixed by the images that have been coming out of the NASA James Webb Space Telescope recently. If you have a chance, scroll through some of them in the gallery on the STScI website. It will give you a new sense of awe at the magnificent work of our Creator God.

As I’ve looked and reflected on these images – especially in these days leading up to Christmas, I’ve been reminded that our God didn’t just create our amazing universe, set it in motion, and then step out of the picture. From the very beginning – from God’s first creative acts all the way to the hope of a new heaven and a new earth, God freely chooses to enter the history of creation. To enter our world, our history.

The Pillars of Creation image (right above) brings this to life in a vivid way – as though the telescope has revealed the creating hand of God amidst the stars.

The creating hand of God – not only the source of all creation, but forever connected to its unfolding history. Through the birth of Jesus, God has entered the dimensions of space-time to reveal his true nature. No wonder the angels came proclaiming good news of great joy to all people!

The good news we celebrate at Christmas is that in Jesus, God’s fully creative acts have now led to God’s fully redemptive acts. God’s salvation is whole-creation salvation – God’s intention not only for us, but for the entire universe.

As you celebrate the birth of the Messiah Jesus, I pray that you will experience the wonder of God’s good creation and recognize God’s hand still at work in it as he moves us toward his redemptive intention. And I join the Apostle Paul in his wonder and his prayer:

When I think of the wisdom and scope of God’s plan, I fall to my knees and pray to the Father, the Creator of everything in heaven and on earth. I pray that from his glorious, unlimited resources he will give you mighty inner strength through his Holy Spirit. And I pray that Christ will be more and more at home in your hearts as you trust in him. May your roots go down deep into the soil of God’s marvelous love.

And may you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love really is. May you experience the love of Christ, though it is so great you will never fully understand it Then you will be filled with the fullness of life and power that comes from God.

(Ephesians 3:14-19, NLT)

Thank you for all that you are and do. Merry Christmas!

by Kim Reisman
Executive Director
World Methodist Evangelism

Scripture focus:

I lift my eyes to you, O God, enthroned in heaven. We look to the Lord our God for his mercy, just as servants keep their eyes on their master, as a slave girl watches her mistress for the slightest signal. (Psalm 123:1-2, NLT)

As we begin the new year, our Scripture focus comes from Psalm 123. Psalm 123 is a psalm of ascent – a song people sang as they went up the hill to worship in the Temple in Jerusalem. It describes a posture of looking up – I lift my eyes to you. This posture of looking up is important for our spiritual journey. It’s the type of posture we need to grow in our life of faith.

The problem is this posture of looking up doesn’t come natural to us. Our more natural posture is a horizontal one. We want to explore our spirituality, but on our own, independent terms. The New Age guru Deepak Chopra once said that people were attracted to his teaching because he satisfied a spiritual yearning without making them think they needed to worry about God or punishment.

That’s our natural posture. We want to be spiritual, but we don’t want that spirituality to be encumbered by authority. We want to discover divinity within us or around us, but not above us. We want a God on our own level; a God we can argue with about the things that make us uncomfortable – marriage, divorce, sexuality, what we do with our money. We’re not looking up; we’re looking across.

But Psalm 123 describes a posture of looking up. I lift my eyes to you, O God, enthroned in heaven. When we read this psalm, it’s easy to avoid the issue of authority and get side-tracked by physical location; but our relationship with God isn’t about where God is located, in the heavens or anywhere else. Our relationship with God is about God’s position of authority in our life.

Verse two emphasizes God’s authority as well; we look to God in the same way that servants look to their masters, waiting for the slightest signal to direct them into action. This type of attitude is difficult for us not only because of our discomfort with the language of servitude, but because many of our cultures – especially American culture – emphasize independence. We grow up anticipating one day leaving home; we go to school anticipating graduation and a new job. Each milestone in life marks another step on our road toward independence. What we don’t realize is that independence doesn’t always mean freedom.

We’re all harnessed in one way or another. Each milestone of our life simply marks trading one harness for another. We may be excited about “adulting” until we realize we now have to pay for everything. I had the opportunity to stay home with my children when they were young. I was so excited – no more constraints of work! I wouldn’t have to answer to anyone! Ha! Anyone with children knows I simply removed the harness of employment and replaced it with the harness of parenthood!

Our wide and varying commitments harness us whether we realize it or not. School, jobs, children, parents, these and countless other responsibilities, all come with a yoke that we must wear. That’s why Jesus’ words in Matthew are so important. “Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke fits perfectly, and the burden I give you is light.” (Matthew 11:29-30, NLT)

Jesus says, “my yoke” because he knows we’re already harnessed; but he wants us to be yoked in a way that suits us. Life will harness you; but you can choose to what or to whom you will be yoked. Jesus says, fasten yourself to my harness, yoke yourself on God’s terms, not those of the world.

There’s a mythical story about a sea captain who was guiding his ship on a very dark night and saw faint lights in the distance. He told his signalman to send a message, “Alter your course 10 degrees south.” A prompt message returned, “Alter your course 10 degrees north.” The captain became angry because his command had been ignored, so he sent a second message, “Alter your course 10 degrees south – I am the captain!” Again, a message promptly returned, “Alter your course 10 degrees north – I am Seaman Third Class Jones.” Infuriated, the captain sent off a third message, knowing that it would evoke fear, “Alter your course 10 degrees south – I am a battleship!” Once again, a prompt replay came, “Alter your course 10 degrees north – I am a lighthouse.”

When we look straight ahead, often all we can see is darkness and fog. We can’t see the forces that have us harnessed and are telling us which direction we should go, how we should behave, what commitments we should or should not make. But when we look up, when we lift our eyes as the psalmist says, we can see the light. When we yoke ourselves to Christ, recognize his authority in our lives, we become connected to God’s hand and can follow God’s light. It’s God’s power and energy that pulls us and pushes us and leads us.

As you pray and fast this month, think about the things that have you harnessed. What would you have to change to more become more fully harnessed to Christ? My prayer is that you will take on a posture of looking up. And in doing so, you would able to see God’s light more clearly, and be guided by it as you seek to follow him.