(xaris and shalom)

  (Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash ) What were you going to do, run away? Your friends were bound and determined to carry you to the itinerant preacher; Never mind the time they had to take off work or the crowded traffic of Capernaum or that there really wasn’t space for them. No, they were going to get you to Him if they had to carry you the whole way drag you up onto a roof and dismantle someone else’s house. And then, there you were: all eyes on you, the interruption. But He didn’t leave you hanging, an impersonal prop in an object lesson,   a convenient sermon illustration. He didn’t ask if you believed, if you wanted to be healed, to tell the truth, the whole truth , and nothing but the truth,   so help you God. He looked at your friends with that twinkling light of an acknowledging smile rising in His dark eyes and nodded, like He had heard their desperate prayers, and labored breathing, and swallowed curses as they wrestle

At the start of this new calendar year, I wonder what to hold onto, what to focus on.  My email inbox is full of tools and tips.  My planner’s pages are mostly empty.   I did not live the last year perfectly or always gracefully— there were plenty of times that my light flickered and wavered with turbulent emotions, stress, conflict, fear, selfishness, frustration.  I spent a lot of time in questioning complaint.  Yet the light of God’s goodness was constant, if sometimes hidden from my eyes by storm clouds.   Photo by  SwapnIl Dwivedi  on  Unsplash There are many ways (so many ways) that I hope to grow this year, so many facets of roles and responsibilities that are parts of my life that I hope to develop in.  I want to be more consistent in my time with God, to rush less, to greet people with wonder and attention, to be physically healthy, to make space for mental health and to be wise about taking time to breathe (especially when those around me are struggling). But my attention and