Gospel Re-Formed

The night my beloved wife passed was difficult, but also beautiful. Over the previous week I could see her slowly slipping away, like a deep fog was covering the world and her face was slowly disappearing into the cloud. No matter how much I reached for her, she would continue to fade out of view. As the week went by, she was sleeping more and more, unable to even sit up with help. By Thursday night, she had not fully waken the entire day and her eyes could no longer open completely. I would sit by her side and look at her feeling helpless. It has already been a few days since I talked to her. Did the final moment to say goodbye already pass? When it was time to sleep I noticed her breathing was short. I went to grab some linen from upstairs so I can sleep by her side on the couch in our sunroom. By the time I came back downstairs, she was gone. In that moment, it felt like a dream. Was she really gone? I sat by her side waiting for her to start breathing again, checking her pulse over...

Back in Tennessee, just after I became a Christian, I attended a funeral that seemed off to me. I don't remember who the person was or why I was there, which is weird, but I do remember that this person did claim to be a Christian. As the service started and people began to speak about him, I noticed that most of the people around him were not. When his friends came to to speak they would say things like "I guess he had some kind of belief in God, which we disagreed on, but he was a good guy." The leader of the church would give the generic verses in most TV and movie funerals, then that was it. I left feeling empty. A little more recently, yet so far away, I went to a funeral of an older man from our local church. They were singing for joy and talking about how he was with Jesus now and his suffering was all over. It was a celebration! We sang and worshiped just like it was a church service. I enjoyed that funeral more, but still left a little empty. I mean, there was ve...

There was a trail that I frequented as a kid that was in a forest near our house. I loved riding my bike through the tree-soaked paths without a care in the world, building forts and climbing trees. It was like I was away from all of mankind, in my hiding place, my sanctuary. Maybe there is something inherited about a love of the woods. I imagine Adam experienced the same things as he looked at the beauty of God’s creation. Did he look up through the trees at night under the moonlight and watch the bats fly around catching bugs like I did? Did he look at the twisted branches and ponder the paths of life?  He was like a newborn, was he not? In a lot of ways, trees remind me of how life should be lived. We are like branches, reaching to the heavens trying to grasp the substance of the sun, fully dependant on outside forces for our sustenance. Just as the branches move with the wind, our lives flow in the sway of life through the Spirit, which is where the make comes from. Season afte...

That very day two of them were going to a village named Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, and they were talking with each other about all these things that had happened. While they were talking and discussing together, Jesus himself drew near and went with them. But their eyes were kept from recognizing him. And he said to them, “What is this conversation that you are holding with each other as you walk?” And they stood still, looking sad. Then one of them, named Cleopas, answered him, “Are you the only visitor to Jerusalem who does not know the things that have happened there in these days?” And he said to them, “What things?” And they said to him, “Concerning Jesus of Nazareth, a man who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, and how our chief priests and rulers delivered him up to be condemned to death, and crucified him. But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel. Yes, and besides all this, it is now the third day since these things ...

Both we and our fathers have sinned;  we have committed iniquity; we have done wickedness. Our fathers, when they were in Egypt, did not consider your wondrous works; they did not remember the abundance of your steadfast love, but rebelled by the sea, at the Red Sea. Yet he saved them for his name's sake, that he might make known his mighty power. (Psalm 106:6-8) Glory has been a word that has been put in my heart over the last few months. It all started after I finished being humbled by a friend in another attempt to stick myself in the middle of something that I should have let go. As I went for a walk, defending myself of course, I heard God clearly speak to me in the middle of my complaining. He said to me “Stop stealing my glory.” After snapping out of myself he repeated the phrase and opened my heart to what I was doing. I so much wanted to be the hero, a person who brings people together so that we can see God's work because of my works and determination. In the middle...

And the Lord God planted a garden in Eden, in the east, and there he put the man whom he had formed. And out of the ground the Lord God made to spring up every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food. The tree of life was in the midst of the garden, and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Genesis 2:8,9 (ESV) When I first think of a garden, I think of my grandmother's house. Rows of different vegetables neatly lined up, properly spaced, watered, fed, and weeded. A variety of edibles intentionally planted to serve her needs. Gardens are not always like that. We have a garden bed in front of our house where we planted a variety of shrubs and flowers to magnify the beauty of our home. There are some gardens that artfully display shapes and colors, used in the public to represent both nature and community. There are even gardens in Japan that were created to give us a sense of peace and tranquility. I presume the garden that was planted in Eden was an example of all...