Last week, love. This week, joy. I think this Fruit of the Spirit is a little taken for granted. I’m not sure many people would come out and say, “I have an issue with joy,” or “I find it hard to be joyful.” But I think that’s because we have a misunderstanding of what joy truly is.

The Fruits of the Spirit remind me of Sunday school lessons. No matter where you go to church, odds are, if you were a kid there was some kind of poster or coloring sheet that had pictures of apples, oranges, bananas, grapes, etc. and they all were labeled with a different fruit of the Spirit. There are songs that we learn in order to memorize them, and maybe you were given a piece of candy or a prize if you could list them all off the top of your head. As we get older, the term “Fruits of the Spirit” feels like a Christianese phrase that is glossed over and never really thought about beyond that Sunday school lesson from decades ago. It’s kind of on the same level as the armor of God, or the Ten Commandments: really, it’s a foundational idea to the Christian walk, but it’s reviewed so often that we forget the precious values these things hold for us to spiritually mature past the Bible basics.

It’s a perspective we all understand, as it’s a basic experience we’ve all had to live through if we’ve been born and grown up. No matter who you are or where you are in your Christian walk, the sentiment is easy to understand. God formed you in your mother’s womb. When no one else knew you, not even your parents, God knew you. There is nothing about you that could be hidden from the Lord. All through the standard nine months your mother was pregnant with you, she wondered: what color would her baby’s eyes be? Their hair? Would it be a boy or a girl? What would your personality be? What would you grow up to do?

I always find it silly when I’m talking about Jesus to someone and they say something along the lines of, “I can’t be a Christian. God doesn’t want me. I’m too far gone for all that.” In theory, I can understand what they mean, and I can sympathize with the fact that someone thinks they are outside of God’s love for them or that they’ve done something to disqualify them from being a part of what God is doing. We might all feel like that at some time or another– caught up in our flesh and sin, knowing we have done wrong– and felt that there was no way Jesus could save us after knowing how despicable we are. To feel that way is to not understand what Jesus did on the cross, and the full extent of that salvation extended.

When you were little, did your school do a grandparents day? Mine did, and I always loved it. It was always a special day where you got to have some of the most important people in your lives come to school, listen to you sing a song, have a snack, and show off your best art projects to. And I think I was probably more lucky than most kids, because I had more grandparents than the average kid. You see, both my parents’ parents are divorced and remarried before I was born, so I never knew the norm was to have only two sets of grandparents. Plus, I had two great-grandmas, so I had quite a pack to choose from.

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.

I am not one of those people that titles their year with a word every January. Don’t get that confused with being a words girl, which I am to the core. I’m just not that type of person who announces to the world every year that I am going to study, meditate on, and learn to embody one word throughout the year. Lots of people do this, and I always find it really interesting to see where people are in their own personal walks every year; choosing words like “vision,” “courage,” “steadfastness,” the list goes on.

Hey Pops, It almost seems unreal that it could be 2022. Somehow, as a child, you think about what being grown will be like, but it’s hard to actually realize it. It’s almost like we take things for granted, whether it be our youth or being blessed enough to live long enough to step into the unknowns of life. There’s something about a new year that feels like standing on the edge of a pool. There’s no doubt that you will plunge in, but when? How? Once you’ve committed to a plunge, gravity takes over and there is no going back.

Over the last month, we’ve been picking apart Psalm 23, one of the most recognizable passages of scripture there is. David, the author of the psalm was a king, a shepherd, a son, but most importantly, a man that was passionately invested in a relationship with God. If anyone understood the deep nuances of every line of this psalm, it was David himself. If there was anyone qualified to compare God to a shepherd, it was David.In six, short verses, we were taken through the green pastures and still waters of a life laid in submission to the Lord; a life that allows God to lead and take care of our needs. From there, we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, an ominous valley surrounded by the trials of life on all sides. Then, we sit down at a table prepared by the Lord, but a table set in a room full of our enemies, an oasis of comfort and rest in the middle of a not-so-wonderful situation.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. It’s such a short sentence, but it is a powerful picture of the Christian walk. I’m sure you’ve been there, because we all have. We all have enemies. And sometimes, our enemy isn’t a person. Sometimes our enemy is something completely unseen that tucks itself up to the table and stares us down, waiting for us to blink. Depression. Anxiety. Fear. Unemployment. Infertility. Disappointment. Lost dreams. Low self esteem and body issues. Grief. Intimidation. Disease. The list can go on and on.

Up until now, Psalm 23 has painted pleasant, calming, peaceful images of belonging to Jesus. This week, things take a turn into some darker, more treacherous territory. Suddenly, we go from green, rolling, lush pastures and still, glassy, crystal water to the valley of the shadow of death; a place that conjures up a picture of a dark, rocky, unforgiving canyon that imposes on all sides. We all know this valley. We’ve all been here before, in fact, some might argue that all of life is a walk through the valley of the shadow of death. That could be true, since all of life is lived in the inevitable shadow of death, felt more keenly on some days than others.

This week, let’s continue on into the following verses, which are deep with vivid imagery. The Lord is our shepherd. He makes us lie down in green pastures, He leads us beside still waters. He refreshes us and leads us along paths of righteousness. When I was a kid, memorizing these verses, I pictured my Papa’s house in the mountains of New York. His house was at the top of a hill, surrounded by woods, and at the bottom of the hill was a little stream and an apple grove. Everything about it was green and beautiful to my childhood imagination.

We’ve been at this for many years: since August of 2017. Over the years, Christmas has become an ever-increasing difficult topic to unpack over and over. Each year, I worry about how I can make it different, and put it in a slightly different vein than the years before. And I’ll admit, some of our Christmas devotions are my absolute favorite; finding completely new things to make Christmas and God brand new all over again. So this year, I was concerned over how I’d be able to pull it off all over again. And then I thought: Why not take a non-Christmas passage and relate it back to the Christmas story. So, for the next few weeks, I’d like to experiment with you and see what we can discover together by taking Psalm 23– one of the most recognized and culturized passages of scripture– and see if we can view it through the lens of Jesus’ birth to see anything new.

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.

I wanted to return to John, chapter 1 this week to finish up the little section that we’d been reading through together. I know, these opening verses seem so simple in nature, but they were really radical at the time they were written, and they really peel back parts of the gospel that might seem overplayed to us at times today.

My mom has been cleaning out the basement of her house. How do I know? Over the past week, I’ve gotten numerous texts asking if I want her to keep or send me certain childhood items to pass onto any children I may have one day. Disney VHS tapes, college decor, you name it. Well, one item she texted me, she knew I’d want to keep: the picture Bible that I’d always kept as a child. What I didn’t remember, was that someone very special had gifted that Bible to me: my Nana Jennie.