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.

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.

Can you stop in the middle of a task and change gears? I know that’s something I struggle with. If my husband calls from the other room, I usually say I need a couple minutes, or ask him to let me finish this one thing first. I don’t do well leaving something undone, or almost done. My tunnel vision makes it hard for me to walk away from loose ends. So when I read the above verses, part of me wonders whether I’d be able to drop my nets and my boat in order to follow someone indefinitely. But when I think on it, this is something that isn’t out of the ordinary when it comes to scripture.

“I had no idea you were so crazy about the Olympics.” That’s what my husband said when I rolled out of bed first thing on Friday and asked him to please set up the live feed so I could watch the opening ceremony at the Tokyo Olympics. And yes, to an extent, he wouldn’t know this about me. The last real Olympic games we had was 2016, which was two years before we’d start dating. And since he’s met me, I hate watching sports games. But for some reason, when the Olympics are on, I’m glued to dozens of events, rooting for the USA and marvelling at my favorite athletes.

Just put yourself in this story for a moment. This passage is found in Exodus 12, which is the passage where God gives Israel instructions on the first Passover. So imagine, for just a moment, that you have been a slave all your life. You’ve broken your back building cities and monuments to kings and people that have abused and mistreated you. This slavery has been going on for generations… well before you were born. At this point, there is no before. This role and existence is all you’ve ever known.

I have always loved the story of Jesus and the Samaritan woman at the well. I feel like it’s one of those stories from the Bible that always gives you something new every time you study it. Mostly, it’s because the conversation is so deep and multi-faceted. The first thing to understanding this story is to know the cultural context. In Jesus’ time, the Samaritans and the Jews did not get along. The reason being is this: When the Babylonians conquered Israel, they took most of the Jews captive and brought them back to Babylon to assimilate them to their culture.

If you’ve been reading and following Soul Deep Devotions since the beginning, then you know my testimony: I’m the girl that’s always known Jesus. I never had this grand, tragic falling away story. Even in my college years, when I was in a sorority and wasn’t actively pursuing the Lord, I wasn’t that far away. My friends still saw me as a goodie-two-shoes. I didn’t do drugs, I didn’t go home with anyone for the night, and I always left the party before things got too crazy.

As a youth leader, sometimes you think that the young adults you spend every Friday night with miss it. It’s easy to think that you’re not reaching them because they don’t always verbalize or visibly respond to the Jesus you’re always trying to pour into them. And then, sometimes, they come out with some amazing one-liner that makes you feel like the student and them the teacher.

Comparison: it’s something I struggled with BIG TIME in the early days of my relationship with Christ and the beginning of my ministry. “I don’t worship like so-and-so. How could God be calling me to be a worship leader?” “I don’t have the experience in youth ministry that he has, so I won’t be as useful in reaching them.” “I’m not as bold as her, so I’ll just stay back and let her tell those people about Jesus. She’ll be better at it anyway”

Hey Pops, Lately, you’ve been teaching me a lot about patience, and it feels like I’ve been waiting on all fronts. A quick scroll through social media puts me under the microscope with false expectations of what my peers think I should have by now: a wild career in corporate America, a gleaming engagement ring on my finger, tons of stamps in my passport, or a trendy apartment somewhere. All things that read success and happiness to the uninvolved, near-sighted bystander, yet all are empty endeavors without the fullness of you behind it.