Worry is a weighty monster with poisoned tentacles. It clutches at us, grabs at our minds, steals our breath, our will. It lurks. It pounces. It colors how we perceive the world.

We may not understand the pathways God lays out before us. We may not even like walking the journey. But even in failure, we can trust that He’ll do more than we expect.

Jesus often calls us to risk. He asks us to be vulnerable, to be authentic, so others can see Him in and through us.

When the world careens out of control, we can rest in the fact that God spun this world with a simple word. Matter from emptiness. Beauty from void. Community from chaos.

Our task shouldn't be punishing the villains in our lives, but enlarging the God who heals us from all wounds.

Pain can either thrust me into the arms of Jesus or make me turn my back on Him. Either way, it's a choice.

Because the culture we breathe and work in rushes against rest. It equates our worth with production and wealth and fame. The more we work toward those goals, the more society assigns us worth.