If I’ve heard it once, I’ve heard it a million times: “The Church would be so much easier to serve in… if it weren’t for the people!” And while I can agree; some people are hard to love because they neglect to treat their church family with the respect and love they’d like to be treated with. Some people are lonely or without blood-related family they can rely on, and so they lean on their church family more than the average person or they come across as clingy. Even more than that, there are some that are newer to the faith and have a more juvenile view of theology or their perception of God is a little more skewed.

This year, I gifted Sam a rather unusual gift. It was a framed illustration I drew of a three-legged stool. Without context, it’s a little bit of a head-scratcher, so let me clue you in. Recently, we heard a story from medieval church history. In 1625, King Charles I ascended to the British throne. Being of the Anglican church and a staunch believer that he had a divine right to rule the church as king, he was not a popular figure in Northern Scotland where the people were largely reformed protestant. Together with his archbishop, the king introduced a book of prayer throughout the kingdom that was much more in line with the Church of England.

The first war Israel had to fight after becoming a free nation of people is seen in the latter half of Exodus 17. Their enemy, Amalek, and his army attacked the nation of Israel unprovoked and in a reprehensible way. Instead of attacking Israel’s camp head on, they attacked them from the back. In ancient times, the elders, leaders, and strongest among a group would be out in front, leading the way and providing the protection needed for their more vulnerable members located in the back. Taking up the rear were usually women, children, elderly, and the infirm. For Amalek to surprise attack Israel and target their defenseless citizens was not only below the belt but despicable and cowardly.

Service is so deeply important to the Christian lifestyle. It is something Jesus did, and so we are compelled to do it. He washed the feet of His disciples. He healed the sick. He taught the masses. He ministered to many. He discipled those who were meant to pick up where He left off when His work after the cross was done.

And He’s still working and serving us, a people who don’t deserve such tender care and affection.

Love covers a multitude of sins. We love to quote that verse, but do we really live it? Do we really walk out the meaning of that in all we do, especially when we serve each other in the Church? The fact of the matter is, churches can be toxic. It’s something most churches love to ignore because they don’t want to own up or take responsibility for the fact that there are people out there walking around with some real emotional wounds inflicted by church people. It’s because as Christians, sometimes we forget that we’re supposed to be good stewards of God’s grace to us. We forget that we are supposed to be the example that God uses to draw others unto Him.

If you think about it, 1 Peter had to be a very revolutionary letter to the church. Peter, a jew and disciple of Jesus, repeatedly asserts how Christ’s work on the cross put Jews and Gentiles on the same playing field. Until the cross, there was a clear line between the two groups because the Jews were God’s chosen people under His covenant with Abraham. But Jesus’ spilt blood on the cross meant that not only Jews but Gentiles as well could be brought into the family of God and enjoy the same inheritance, grace, and spirituality that was reserved for Jews only up to that point.

If you’ve been with me since the beginning of this little devotional site, you’ll know that every year, for five years, I’ve tackled the Christmas story in the weeks after Thanksgiving leading up to the big day. This year, I pondered how I could make my Christmas devotions different from what I’ve done in the past. So what is something about the Christmas season that can immediately put a person in the seasonal spirit? For me, before we put up the tree or bake the cookies, before we wrap the presents or decorate the house, we all do one thing: turn on Christmas music. To me, Christmas carols can instantly get me into the Christmas spirit, bring all my childhood memories to the forefront of my mind, and help me remember that our Savior, Jesus, came to be with us in the flesh.

Reverence. It’s a big word, and one not to be used lightly. It is a deep respect and awe for something or someone. Lately, I’ve been asking myself: do I have reverence for the Lord in my every day life? I think between social media blurbs, quick and snappy sermon titles, and TikTok devotions, the American church has lost what was once its highest priority: to revere and regard the Lord with deep love and trembling.

Where is your treasure? Think about it. Take a pause and think about your life. Where is your time most spent? What are the things you absolutely cannot live without? What are your non-negotiables? Family? Friends? Career? Your home? Your lifestyle? Your politics? Jesus? Your list is completely valid, whatever it is you put on it. Your treasure is exactly that: yours. You may put value on something that I don’t, and that’s just the beauty of different perspectives.

As I write this, I am officially 36 weeks along in my pregnancy with our first child. Each day is a mixture of wild anticipation and timid caution. Are we ready for her? What else needs to be done? Are we going to be good parents? How else can we possibly prepare for the labor, birth, postpartum period, and the transition into parenthood? Every way you slice it, it all feels like new territory. I’ve babysat before; I’ve watched my mom and dad raise my brother from a young age. But none have been fully mine– none of them have been a child grown in areas only I have ever occupied or borne of my body.

When I was in college, I joined a sorority. There was an awesome sense of belonging in that, knowing that I was in a community of women that I could call friends, and we could accept each other's differences simply because we were united by the same Greek letters of the sorority. Over those three years that I was an active sister, there was this idea drilled into us that we were “always wearing our letters.” In other words, we were always representing our sorority, whether we were wearing the Greek letters that designated us as a community or not. So wherever we went, whatever we said, however we conducted ourselves– it was a reflection of the sorority itself.

A pitfall of the American church is that it relies on carnal means to try and entice lost and worldly people into saving grace. The issue is, when we know real grace ourselves, we understand that there is nothing a person can say or do that can convince someone to sacrifice their worldly comforts to live a God-honoring life. Instead, we have to rely on God’s revealing Himself to someone in order to draw the lost to Him. And because we minimize that fact into a minor detail of church culture, Christians tend to strive in certain things in order to try and get imperfect people to see Jesus using imperfect means and methods.

As long as the church survives, there will be a conversation about growth, numbers, and membership. Pragmatically, for many of them, a church is not only a spiritual house, but a business. More numbers means more tithing and giving means more resources and that helps ensure that the church not only remains open and serving the community, but that it continues to glorify God– or so you hope. No matter where you go, what theology that church teaches, there will always be that goal: to reach unbelievers, new families, and trying to get more people to stay and engage. But over the past 20-30 years, with the addition of social media, globalization, and mega churches, that idea has lent itself to a whole new pitfall of false gospel: attractionalism.

I’ve always had a lot of respect for John the Baptist. Here’s a guy, who lived primarily in the wilderness, whose entire ministry was to make people ready for someone else to come. That takes a truly selfless and purpose-driven person. And to me, in many ways, John the Baptist’s ministry is the ministry we all share today: to make people ready for Jesus. And the way people try to reach the lost these days– social media, Youtube, and church platforms that look more like a concert venue than a place of worship– it’s easy to get caught up in self-promotion dressed as God-driven purpose. And it’s proven, social media has an addictive quality, so what might start out as an account totally dedicated to sharing the Gospel and God’s love can totally become a source of self gratification when you see the likes and follows start rolling in.

We’ve all done it. Maybe it’s the Sunday scaries, with a new work week looming on the horizon. Maybe it’s our family or the plans we’ve made for our weekends. Maybe our own personal workload between balancing a clean house, social lives, love interests, whatever it may be.

I’ve had a few moments in my life that completely confronted and challenged the Jesus I believe in, but one of the biggest God-questions that I’ve ever faced was towards the end of 2016. I was dating a guy that had some pretty strong views on the Bible– to put it lightly– but the biggest point of contention between the two of us was the role of women in the church.