In today’s world, we’re bombarded with the message to "live your best life." Social media influencers, self-help gurus, and even well-meaning friends often frame this idea around doing whatever makes you happy, pursuing your dreams, or following your heart. These goals sound noble—and they’re not inherently wrong—but they focus on one thing: you.
When children become part of our lives, they present new challenges and responsibilities. Sometimes, it feels overwhelming, and we often hear conflicting advice from people. Sometimes, we feel inadequate or poorly prepared because of the dysfunction in our family of origin. It is helpful, therefore, to at least be able to express an end goal for what we are doing.
In today’s world, we are constantly bombarded by voices vying for our attention. Social media influencers, news headlines, coworkers, family, friends, and even our own inner dialogue clamor for space in our minds. These voices often speak loudly, urgently, and persistently, making it hard to discern which ones truly deserve our focus. How can God speak through all of this?
When we think of "church," many images might come to mind: a building with a steeple, Sunday services with singing and preaching, people studying the Bible or contributing to good causes. Is this really what the church is for? Or is there something deeper going on that we miss if we focus on its physical representation and its activities?
When we think about perseverance, we often think dramatic struggles—health or financial setbacks or deep personal loss. James, with its encouragement to "consider it pure joy... whenever you face trials of many kinds" (James 1:2), calls us to see adversity as an opportunity for growth. But what if our trials aren't dramatic? What if they are small, repetitive, and tedious—just plain boredom?
“Compound interest is the eighth wonder of the world. He who understands it, earns it; he who doesn’t, pays it,” is a quote attributed to Einstein. While this principle applies to finances, its implications stretch far beyond money. What if we saw our spiritual lives and relationships as accounts we can invest in, reaping dividends not only in this life but for eternity?