In Numbers 21, we find the nation of Israel wandering the wilderness and waiting to get into the land God promised them. While traveling a road called Hor that ran along the Red Sea, the people began to do what people do best: complain. The Bible says they spoke against God and Moses, saying, “Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness? There is no bread! There is no water! And we detest this miserable food!” (Numbers 21: 5, NIV)

During my time in college, I joined a sorority. It was a good way to make friends, stay busy, and make the most of my time in university. I ended up pledging a sorority called Delta Phi Epsilon, and mainly because my friend was already a sister and encouraged me to rush.

It felt like a long process– meeting the sisters, finding a connection with them, going through rounds of meet and greets– all leading up to receiving my bid and joining the sisterhood. After a semester, I got to see the process from the inside: the long hours of discussing every girl that walked through the doors to meet us. And after each conversation, we decided as a group whether we wanted to see that girl again. Each round of meet and greets led up to that ultimate moment where you choose the girls you invite into the sorority.

The Bible is clear about martyrs and the fact that many will suffer for the gospel. Hebrews 11 famously talks about believers that were tortured, stoned, mistreated, and viciously killed for spreading the word of God. We know that this kind of persecution for faith in God continues today, especially in countries that have no freedom to practice Christianity like China or the Middle East.

But a lot of the time, we don’t share stories of those martyrs and the truths they died for. And why? Because in the end, they are stories that could help to strengthen and fortify our own faith. The truth is, we’re deeply blessed. We live in a country where it’s still widely condoned to go to church and practice our faith, but what if that weren’t the case?

This might be a hymn you’ve never heard before, but a story that’s really familiar to you: the parable of the ninety nine sheep.

In this parable, Jesus explains that a shepherd has one hundred sheep and one gets lost. This shepherd then leaves his flock to find the missing sheep. If the shepherd finds that lost sheep, he rejoices over having found it more than the ninety-nine that stayed where they were supposed to be. In the same way, heaven rejoices with God the Father over one lost soul coming to salvation.

Have you ever had a moment when you are really going through something that seems needless or meaningless? When we’re actually going through those moments, we wonder why God is doing something a particular way, or why it’s happening to us at all. It’s often that when we gain the perspective that only time and persevering with the Lord can bring that we actually see what He was doing. We look back and see that our struggles and our suffering was refining us and working something out within us. We were learning lessons in those moments that we couldn’t have learned if everything was at an even keel.

If you were to read the Gospels in the Bible side by side, you’d find lots of similarities throughout. Matthew, Mark, and Luke especially tend to report the same events of Christ’s ministry on earth. This especially helps us to cross-reference and gain lots of perspective on the same lessons and miracles that Jesus gave to us. And each Gospel in kind shows its own emphasis on Jesus.

But each Gospel is uniquely different, each one offering us completely new insights into the life of Jesus and offering some stories not found in the other accounts. This particular day recorded in John 2 sounds familiar, and yet is not. Here, we find Jesus in the temple during Passover and upon finding merchants and money-changers in the outer courts, He passionately cleanses the temple. In other words, He kicks the opportunistic businessmen out of the temple, clears out their animals being sold for sacrifice, and breaks up their tables and stalls to clear space for worshipers to offer sacrifices and pray.

You are such a good God. You have walked beside me every day of my life, whether I deserved it or not. If I’m being honest, I never deserved your love, care, or grace. But you pursued me. You watched over me, protected me, and drew me to you. There were seasons in my life when I desired things that glorified me more than I desired you. I prioritized my friends, family, dreams, and pleasure, and still there are times where that creeps back in.

up in sacrifice.” Elisabeth Elliot makes this statement in her book, Suffering is Never for Nothing. How simple, and yet how difficult to truly come to grips with.

God is love, love is sacrifice, and those sacrifices in the name of love cause us to suffer. Love and suffering are inextricably bound together. You can’t have one without the other, and our best illustration of it is the cross. Jesus went through just about the most suffering a person possibly can go through on the cross. He was humiliated, beaten, bloody, and broken. He died very publically for all to see. He was spat on, betrayed, and completely crushed.

I think anyone living the human experience can agree that sometimes, life just happens. It’s just a fact of life, that one day you feel like you're flying, only to find the next day that you were actually falling. You were never flying at all. Any number of things could happen to you. You could crash your car. You could lose your job. You could find out your spouse is cheating. You could walk through grieving a loved one. 

Personally, I’ve recently found out someone very close to me– one of my best friends– has cancer. If you’ve ever been in the position where you’re a part of the support system for someone going through cancer, you’ll know there are many emotions attached. There’s grief that life is about to change radically as your loved one walks through treatment; trying to do everything you can and feeling like it’s not enough. There’s worry for the days ahead and the many outcomes that can happen. And at the same time, there’s an adamant and stubborn desire to remain strong for that person, wanting to be encouraging and steadfast and ready to dig your heels in and help that person fight.

In John 2, Jesus attends a wedding in which the wine runs out. In those days, it was a party foul to host a wedding and not have enough wine for the whole party. When the wine runs out, Jesus’ mother, Mary, asks Him to intervene and sends a few servants to help Him rectify the situation. Jesus tells the servants to fill up the waterpots that were being used for the purification ritual for the wedding ceremony. The servants fill up these six stone jars that each hold about twenty to thirty gallons.

My daughter, Piper, is in her vastly frustrating– yet slightly endearing– headstrong toddler phase. Each day is an exhausting cycle of asking her a million times to do or not do something, chasing her from one side of the house to the other, and talking her through some big emotions.

One of her new favorite things to do is to help mommy or daddy cook meals at the stove. Tonight, I was preparing a dinner of shrimp tacos and rice. While I was cutting up vegetables, she pulled up her stool and started trying to help. She grabbed for the knife, which started a conversation of how she’s not really ready for that part yet and she can get hurt if she doesn’t wait until she gets older. Next, she started playing with the elements on the stove. I asked her not to play with them because she doesn’t know which one is on and if she touches one that’s hot she can get burned.

Have you ever had a God moment where you truly felt just how small and powerless you are in the light of how almighty and sovereign He is?

Very recently, Sam and I have had friends from our church spending the summer in Washington for some medical treatments a couple hours drive from where we live. Since I’ve been couch-bound with our newborn, Lily, for the last month, we were chomping at the bit to get out of the house and go somewhere, and we decided a day trip to get some lunch with them was perfect.

On July 11, 2024, Lily Anne Wente was born at 11:29 a.m. She weighed 8 lbs 2 oz and measures 21.5 inches long.

Exactly one year ago, my little family found itself in a moment of crisis. Sam’s job came to an end at the church in North Carolina. For months, he was scouring job boards looking for a new pastoral job while delivering pizzas to help supplement our income. Church job searches are a long, drawn out process, and most require you to appear at the church and guest preach so the congregation can meet you, your family, and get an idea of how you would shepherd the church.

In our early days and months of dating, Sam and I attended a Christian conference in Orlando, Florida. The group we went with had attended in years past and gushed about the “impartation of the Holy Spirit” and the depth of the spiritual encounters they all had in the past with such a host of well-known speakers and church organizations that would come together to put on this event. Over the course of four days, however, it became clear to us that all the hype was just that… hype. Each speaker in the lineup boasted of their works and the accomplishments of their ministries. They spoke of healing and impartation of spiritual gifts and delivering from addictions.

When we think of ourselves in light of who God is, how do we see ourselves? Do we consider ourselves children and heirs? Do we see ourselves through the lens of the salvation Jesus won us and extended to us? Do we view ourselves as conquerors and overcomers? Do we see busy servants that are continuing Christ’s work through the talents God gifted us with? Do we see ourselves the way John saw Himself: humbly and in light of how seriously we fall short of Jesus’ magnificence?

I was baptized somewhere in my early teens. If I had to guess, I was somewhere in between 12 and 14. If you ask my mom, she probably remembers for sure. I don’t know if it’s the pregnancy brain, or that it happened so long ago, but there aren’t too many details I remember of that day. I remember I was baptized with two of my childhood church friends. I remember the water was warm. I remember that I didn’t want to say anything into the microphone to the congregation watching. When I emerged, my dad was on the other side of the baptismal with a towel and one of the biggest smiles on his face.