Blessed are those who mourn… It might seem sort of contradictory. How can it be possible to mourn and yet be blessed? If we’re mourning, it would mean we lost something, right? And losing something or someone to the point of grief can’t be something Jesus wants for us, let alone something He blesses us with. Yes, when Jesus says blessed are those who mourn, He means real and harrowing heartache. The word He uses in the Greek is “pentheó” which means a deep, personal grief over a death or a hope that dies. It is a grief so severe that it takes possession of the person and cannot be hidden.

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.

If you’ve been with me since the beginning of this ministry, you’ll know we’ve been doing this for a while. In fact, this August will be the 5 year anniversary of Soul Deep’s launch. Over the years, we’ve been reading and studying together every week– there was a time where we used to post twice a week, too!– which means we’ve gotten together like this through the internet somewhere around 250 times, give or take. You’ll remember that there have been other voices that have shared what God was saying to them, but mine has probably been the most consistent. In fact, consistency is one of my disciplines– maybe at some times, to my detriment– because there have been many times where I’ll be watching TV on a Monday night and say, “I have to write a devo for tomorrow!” or , “I don’t have any ideas of what to post tomorrow.” To which my husband might say, “So take a break. You don’t have to force it. Give it a few days to see if something convicts you enough to write.”But I’m a very strong-willed person, and letting you all wake up on Tuesday morning, excited to read and connect over God's Word only to find an empty inbox, is not something I can easily accept.

The Gospel of John starts out differently than all the other gospels. Instead of going through the lineage of Jesus, a prophecy fulfilled, or the re-telling of His birth, John chooses to start at the beginning. No, not the beginning of Jesus’ life. The very beginning of creation, before time began itself. In five short verses, John is able to package and communicate a picture of the supremely vast and awesome fact that Jesus is sovereignly God. Using the Word, light, and life as analogies, John reinforces the existence of the Trinity, God as an uncreated Creator of all, and the pre-eminence of the Savior He is.

Truth time: Recently, I realized how numb I can become to the goodness of God. It was the week of Good Friday. My family and I watched “The Passion of the Christ.” Funny, how a confrontation with the cross can realign us and set us straight. As much as I hate to say this, as I became a teenager, I forgot the importance of that sacrifice. I felt as if it was just another story in a book. I never really thought about the whole meaning behind it or realized that if it weren’t for God’s sacrifice, I wouldn't have eternal life. I wouldn't be able to say that I don't have to punish myself because I’ve sinned over and over again.

People love routine. I’m no exception. I love the comfort of falling into a rhythm when it comes to my schedule or work. There’s something about the familiarity and confidence in knowing what is coming next and moving into it without hesitation. But I’ll be the first to admit that sometimes, having a routine for the sake of having a routine is a dangerous habit to fall into. Tradition is the same way. Sure, there is something beautiful in having a custom or a belief that’s passed down from generation to generation or person to person. But sometimes, our traditions and routines distract us from certain things that should have our full attention.

“I just don’t know what to do,” a close family friend said over coffee one night. “My daughter is afraid to go to the mall, the movies, school. She’s afraid to live her life.” I remember those words being spoken years ago, after the school shooting at Sandy Hook. That was nearly six years ago, and in the time that’s passed, I can’t say with any kind of confidence that this world has gotten any better. Media tries to top itself with more outrageous headlines and sin-sick people try to outdo the last. It would take too long to list the heartbreak and the anguish. And because of that, lots of people– Christians included– walk in fear of what tomorrow night bring or whether they’ll become another statistic, another name on a list.