Sometimes, we Christians have a bad habit of applying our personal politics too liberally to scripture. And I get it, this country was founded on Christian principles. It’s woven into the foundations of what we once were and there are many in the Church today that are desperately wanting to see our nation return to its Christian values.

But sometimes, for the sake of an argument, we go too far.

If you witnessed God parting the Red Sea and were a part of all the rejoicing and worship that happened immediately after, how long would it take for you to become desensitized to that experience? How long would it take for you to fall back into complacency, doubt, or an overall questioning of God’s timing, wisdom, plan, etc? A few weeks? A month? A year? Do you know how long it took Israel to go from triumphant praise at the awe-striking power and provision of God to grumbling and complaining over external hardship?

In my sophomore year of college, I took a pottery class. I liked to take at least one creative class per semester to help blow of some steam and provide some sort of therapeutic break from essay writing and book reading, but mostly I took that class because it included a unit on throwing pottery. In other words, there was a large part of the semester that involved sitting at a pottery wheel, and that seemed like it would be a fun experience. Except there’s a lot of technique that goes into that. You have to get a hang for the right amount of moisture in the clay. Make the clay too dry and the clay won’t submit to the shape you’re trying to mold; too wet and it will be a sloppy, muddy mess that will either take forever to dry out or prove itself utterly impossible to mold into anything. There’s a learning curve to actually throwing the clay: where to put it on the wheel, how much clay to use if you’re just starting out, the methods of making the clay workable, how much height, depth, or thickness to make a good ceramic piece.

When we’re little kids, temptation looks innocent. Maybe it’s the late afternoon, dinner is in the oven and the table is set, but your mind just can’t get off of that jar of cookies on the counter. You try to resist temptation, thinking of how your mother would tell you no, but then you think to yourself that just one won’t ruin your appetite. Maybe you can just sneak one and no one will ever know. So you reach your hand in and grab it, but then think to yourself that you’ll probably want more– because just one won’t be enough when you could have three– and you swipe two more. Maybe you get away with it. Maybe your mom doesn’t find out.

My daughter got four vaccines at her last doctor's visit. If you’ve ever had a baby, you’ll know that even one vaccine can make a baby fussy, clingy, uncomfortable, and unhappy. Now multiply that by four. After getting pricked at her appointment, she fell asleep long enough for us to pick up infant Tylenol and make it home, then the crying commenced. We did everything: nursed her until she refused any more, hopped in the shower for skin-to-skin and let the water run over her, bounced her, walked around with her, turned on music, the whole nine. Finally, the thing that helped her relax and sleep again was laying on her daddy’s chest for a good snuggle. And now, as I watch her relaxed and comforted, her little hands wrapped around Sam as far as they’ll make it, I am reminded of how that’s exactly the way God sees me: small, innocent, and in need of a Father God to be saved and comforted.

I am learning that with every major milestone in life, there is one common denominator: thank you cards. And after the birth of my daughter, Piper, we’ve gotten so many gifts from so many people that it’s hard to keep track anymore. So much so, that I decided to finally buckle down and take care of sending out thank you cards off of a very inconsistent list Sam and I started putting together once the packages started coming in from everywhere. As I was going through a list of people at least an arms length long, something extremely obvious occurred to me. Thank you notes are considered a nice touch, if not a common courtesy. If you get a gift big or small, you thank that person for it and a thank you note sends a specific message of deep gratitude.

I’ve served as a worship leader for 13 years. It doesn’t feel like that long in my brain, but I started serving on my youth worship team when I was a freshman in high school. Over the years, I’ve served on multiple teams,both in the lead and in the background, at a handful of different churches with lots of different beliefs. There are a lot of different worship songs that spark debate amongst worship teams, especially now that worship songs are going under the microscope in terms of: is this worship to God, or man-centered worship under a problematic theology? One song that seems to be debated more often, I’ve noticed, is “Blessed Be Your Name” by Matt Redman.

It’s through grace that we have been saved. It’s through his matchless love that each and everyday we are cared for. In the times when we are facing trials that feel like they take everything out of us, the closeness we have with God can feel matchless. But when we are in a season in our lives absent from trials, we almost lose that connection with God if we are not pursuing him in the right way.