Hold Fast. Be Bold. Make Heaven Crowded.

This post is intended to speak to committed Christians, although if you are reading this and are still on the fence (so to speak) welcome!

In the New Testament, the author of the Book of Hebrews repeatedly uses the phrase, Hold Fast. Here is one such usage, in Hebrews 10:23

“Let us hold fast to the hope we profess.” (There are different translations, but this is the gist.)

* * * * *

These are turbulent times, and our core beliefs are under attack around the world and across our country. Almost no one is persecuting Muslims or Hindus or Buddhists (with the exception maybe of India where non-Hindus are routinely mistreated). But, nearly everywhere, Christians, the single largest belief system in the world, are on the defensive.

In some places, like China, they have to hide for fear of their welfare. In Africa, they are slaughtered by Islamic tribal groups. In western Europe and Canada, Christians face dwindling numbers and influence as atheistic, Marxist and nihilistic philosophies, coupled with massive Muslim migration are transforming the social, political and economic landscape.

And the United States is not immune.

Under the guise of a thing called Tolerance, Christianity is just not included. We are seen as anachronistic and oppressive. As such, we have been on the defensive for decades now, which has only accelerated since around 2012.

Previously unthinkable practices such as genital mutilation of children in order to accommodate their “feelings” and the political agenda of elites in academia, the media and government, have been allowed not just to flourish but to include withering attacks on those who stand up to oppose such horrendous practices. I think of the Aztecs sacrificing children on some alter. How are we different?

Previously unthinkable practices of allowing boys and men who all of a sudden declare, without any scientific basis (other than constructed by means other than science) to wake up one day to declare that they are girls and women … and have entire swaths of humanity swoon at their feet … is tantamount to the king walking naked with everyone just nodding their heads. Until the innocent and brave boy points out the obvious.

And it’s getting worse. Where is it supposed to end?

Well, it’s really an attack on the fundamental values and principles that have built the west since the Enlightenment, which coupled historical Judeo-Christian beliefs with modern scientific rationalism. This confluence has lifted billions out of poverty and spread the concepts of freedom and individual liberty around the globe.

In this attack, we are witnessing the degradation of civilization, the only thing that keeps us out of chaos and tyranny.

There are many who see this viewpoint as an anachronism. After all, the Arc of History (as so-called Progressives are used to saying) leans towards a world freed from mythologies and oppressive cultures run by white men and capitalists. This is just another tired retread of fundamental Marxist ideology, branded as Communism. 

Too long now, Christians have been on the defensive, trying to counter the massive and coordinated attack on our basic values and beliefs conducted by unified academia, media and the levers of government. It’s been body blow after body blow.

Enough is enough.

We begin the counterattack (and it is a counterattack, just as we are part of something greater than the obvious … as I said in a recent post) with Hold Fast. Draw the line. While we can certainly engage in conversations with others whereby we exchange viewpoints in a calm and reasoned manner, we cannot allow ourselves to be sidelined by loud and strident voices that do not seek dialogue but only to harangue.

But holding fast is no longer enough. We need to be bold in pushing our agenda forward. An agenda that includes unapologetically proclaiming the truth of the Gospel and the fact that Jesus is the only way to eternal life. This will not go down well in some quarters but it must be said. We can’t apologize or backpedal. Certainly, we should arm ourselves with rational explanations for our beliefs, but we can also challenge others to support their own … something they will not want to do because the logic breaks down.

We are clearly called by Jesus to proclaim the Truth. And he just as clearly said we could face persecution and worse. In the comfortable West it’s easy to ignore what this can mean. But, as we face these attacks, we should be reminded of the famous line, “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.”

Jesus calls us to be bold. And boldness requires risk. Boldness requires that we abandon the comfort of approval by everyone around us, including friends and family. If we really believe that Jesus is God and that the words accorded to him are accurate, this is non-negotiable. 

We can take comfort that we are not alone but in the presence of a “cloud of witnesses,” of brothers and sisters who are also taking risks because there is only one who is Just and stands in Judgment.

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us” Hebrews 12:1

I need to become bolder, holding fast to what I know to be true. I need not defend that knowledge here as I’ve done it extensively elsewhere. I am part of a massive body that includes a large swath of humanity and untold numbers in the heavenly realms. My hope is based upon a promise that is ironclad. Every other promise is hollow in comparison because we are in the flesh and seduced into thoughts and behaviors that are not of God. As much as I try to be good and to do God’s will, I always fall far short, therefore rejecting him and his authority over me. The only way that gap can be resolved is through Jesus. The only way.

And that is the foundation upon which I stand. It is there that I hold fast.

In closing, I return to one of the gifts God has given me through his Word and that comes from the Book of Ephesians Chapter 6, verses 10-17

“Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against the flesh and blood, but against the rulers, the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore, put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.”

This is the space in which I live now. Leading my life as best I can with what God has provided me, my wife, family and dear friends. I ask for wisdom and strength to meet the challenges ahead and that God uses me to, as Charlie would say, make heaven crowded.

Amen.

Forever (Holy)

Like maybe 100 million others … perhaps more by now … I tuned in to the Charlie Kirk Memorial on Sunday. To say that it was moving is a vast understatement. Just the day before, I was struggling with the enormity of his loss. And, while I still struggle and grieve, something clicked inside of me by the conclusion.

I was overwhelmed by Hope.

Not just with but by. (There is a distinction.)

Overwhelmed to the point of tears.

For any of you who might be reading this, you probably know something about my abrupt and wholesale transformation just over twenty years ago. Perhaps some of you have read my thematic autobiography that chronicles everything up to and following that unique moment.

For whatever reason, God has given me glimpses into his realm, via the audible, the visual, the head and heart. Given all of this, I can’t help but commit to Holy Forever.

Which is the close to the title of one of the worship songs, the entirety of which covered about two hours before the speakers took over on Sunday. And, listening to it again, last night, I was drawn to write on a piece of the song because it resonated so beautifully in my experience.

Now, rewind the tape of my life some fifty-eight years. I was thirteen at the time (I recounted this in great detail in my book), when the earth first shifted for me.

Growing up in a home without any religion to speak of … no prayers … no talk about God … no church … just a lot of mind and intellectualization … I was wholly unprepared for a watershed moment to arrive unbidden while in the seventh grade. By that point, I was a fairly accomplished young violinist, ensconced in my junior high school orchestra, serving as a third chair first violinist, when my teacher suggested I might be able to transfer my instrumental music skills to the voice. So, shortly thereafter, I found myself standing on the risers with other students who participated after school in the junior high school choir. 

I have related what happened hundreds of times, I suspect.

But to cut to the chase, while scratching out my voice, while sight-reading the score, I was no longer there.

I was, instead, suspended in a vast space, dark, but punctuated with millions of points of light, all surrounding me. And from each point of light, there was sound. It was singing. No discernible lyrics but pure transcendent sound.

I was surrounded by unimaginable beauty and realized my voice had joined theirs. And, yes, it actually happened.

I had no context for this except thinking these were probably angels, something I’d never thought much about except to see them on Christmas cards or on top of Christmas trees.

But that only came from later reflection because the sound permeated every fiber of my being. The only way to truly describe it was that I was the sound … I belonged there and was filled with joy, never having heard or experienced anything close to it before.

I only told one person at the time, my mother (who was not particularly loving but very particularly judgmental), of what happened. After I “returned” to the risers and raced home from school because I was bursting with the news, I burst through the front door and cried, “Mother, I just sang with all of the angels!” To which she immediately replied, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

I didn’t sing again for thirty-eight more years.

But I never let the memory fade because it was overwhelmingly powerful … completely out of place but achingly authentic. I knew there was an Other.

Fast forward to Sunday and the song that shares the title with this post.

Holy Forever.

I will provide a link to the song at the end of this post but here are the lyrics:

A thousand generations falling down in worship
To sing the song of ages to the Lamb
And all who’ve gone before us and all who will believe
Will sing the song of ages to the Lamb

Your name is the highest
Your name is the greatest
Your name stands above them all
All thrones and dominions
All powers and positions
Your name stands above them all

And the angels cry holy
All creation cries holy
You are lifted high, holy
Holy forever

If you’ve been forgiven and if you’ve been redeemed
Sing the song forever to the Lamb
If you walk in freedom and if you bear His name
Sing the song forever to the Lamb
We’ll sing the song forever and amen

And the angels cry holy
All creation cries holy
You are lifted high, holy
Holy forever

Hear Your people sing holy
To the King of kings, holy
You will always be holy
Holy forever

Your name is the highest
Your name is the greatest
Your name stands above them all
All thrones and dominions
All powers and positions
Your name stands above them all

Jesus
Your name is the highest
Your name is the greatest
Your name stands above them all (oh, stands above)
All thrones and dominions
All powers and positions
Your name stands above them all

And the angels cry holy
All creation cries holy
You are lifted high, holy
Holy forever (we cry holy, holy, holy)

Hear Your people sing (we will sing) holy
To the King of kings (holy), holy (holy is the Lord)
You will always be holy
Holy forever

You will always be holy
Holy forever

Yes, the lyrics speak volumes but it’s the music that cuts straight to the heart. And to my first direct interaction with the Holy forty-eight years ago.

And the Angels cry Holy. All creation cries Holy. You are lifted high, holy, holy forever.

And cry Holy along with all creation. And I will keep crying it forever.

Because that’s where God and mankind are designed to meet and interact. To interact with something called Holy.

To risk a play on words … Holy is wholly Perfect, wholly Beautiful, wholly Loving, wholly magnificent, wholly Powerful, wholly Good, wholly Just, wholly forgiving, wholly overflowing with Grace.

And Jesus is at that exact point of connection, something I dismissed as mythological for decades, even though I “knew” there was something just on the other side of the veil. Something beyond human comprehension. Something where Love and Beauty reigned. Something with what and whom I could connect and in a place where I belonged.

Yes, I unabashedly and unapologetically claim that Jesus is the Lord. His name is the highest, his name is the greatest, his name stands above them all. To which the angels and those of us who have awoken to the perfect reality of who he is and why he came, cry Holy, Holy, Holy.

He is my Lord. He is Diane’s Lord. He is the Lord of hundreds of people I know and of countless millions across our country and around the globe. And, yes, the concept of Lordship will probably seem anachronistic to “enlightened” moderns many of whom are largely atheists or agnostics who call themselves “spiritual” but not religious. It implies hierarchy and that doesn’t quite mesh with this vague claim that we are all “equal.”

Sure, in the sense we are all children of God, who views each of us as deserving of limitless love, we are equal. But we are not equal with God. He is wholly Other. The author of our creation, the author of our salvation.

To which, for those of us who really, really believe this, we are left with nothing other than to cry Holy, Holy, Holy, invited into an eternity of beauty and joy. An eternity in resurrected bodies, to live in the full renewal of all of creation.

So, while I did not hear words when I sang with angels, perhaps it was because I would not understand them at that time. But I did know music and I did know that I could make beautiful music come from a wooden instrument.

The millions and I could just as clearly have been singing Holy, Holy, Holy.

Amen.

For some reason, WordPress and YouTube are not allowing me to embed the link. All you have to do in YouTube is search for

Kari Jobe Forever Live

It’s a recording from 11 years ago with 80 million views.

Or you can find it on Spotify easily.

There are other renditions by other artists on YouTube and Spotify. But I’m choosing to link this one because it was the one that touched me on Sunday and, again, last night.

I urge you to listen.

Blessings,

Brad

Love and Wrath: Two Sides of the Same Coin

A dichotomy is a concept normally used to describe two things that are related but opposite.

A paradox is something akin to two concepts that seem to be self-contradictory but true.

I’m not sure if I am living within these spaces right now but if sure feels like it.

My heart loves deeply but, simultaneously, I feel deep anger. What does that say? What do these emotions say about my commitment to follow Jesus?

There is this misconception in our modern comprehension of Jesus that presents him as soft. As merely the Lamb of God. The airbrushed depictions of him (light colored hair, with sheep and children at his feet), depicts him as some kind of gentle soul.

Which, of course, he is.

But that hardly presents the whole picture. Jesus is also the Lion of Judah.

In fact, he is God. God made man. Emmanuel. God with us.

And God, the omniscient, omnipresent, all powerful being in whose image we are created, cannot be airbrushed.

After all, while he is Love Itself, he is also Truth and Justice Itself. And this is something that moderns just don’t understand. 

He is a God of Wrath.

This past seven days have been the most tumultuous for our country since the awful attack in 2001. But this is different by an order of magnitude. Following 9/11, it seems our entire nation was unified, even for a relatively short period of time. Not so now. We are clearly a divided people, large swaths of which hold diametrically opposing visions of who and what we should be.

I fundamentally believe that we are in a clash of civilizations, although those on the other side from my own have a different concept of what “civilization” even means. You can’t be nihilists (those who reject all religious and moral principles who also believe that life is meaningless) and civilized at the same time. Not all of those on the opposite side from where I stand are nihilists, but they do reject many of the historical religious and moral principles that have shaped our world for the past half millennia and even before.

All of this brings me to this point. How do I live my life as a committed follower of Jesus who teaches us to embody the fundamental character of God while we live in a broken and fallen world? 

If we truly believe that God is equally loving and just … then there is nothing wrong with feeling anger towards evil and injustice. We are taught to hold these two seemingly opposite thoughts and feelings in balance.

Not an easy thing to do.

God hates evil. That’s a fact. He knows it destroys his creation … that Evil acts diametrically opposed to his Will.

Evil is “grooming” children by telling them it’s just fine if they want to mutilate themselves because they think and feel that they were born into the wrong body.

Evil says unborn human beings are just clumps of cells and tissue with no intrinsic value.

Evil says that those who prey on the weak in our society through acts of violence are just “misguided” and are merely “misunderstood.” They are the true victims and don’t deserve justice and punishment. That their victims are actually oppressors and “deserve” what they get.

Evil says it’s ok to celebrate the brazen and public murder of a kind and loving husband and father who just asked questions about principles and sought civil discussion. Evil makes up lies about things he said because it is afraid of the truth. Evil laughs at such a life because it has no other defense.

Those that follow such evil are like water descending in a sink, circling the drain. There is nothing left but the darkness of the hole they have dug for themselves.

That is the ultimate reality. The nature of Evil is to deceive. To lie. To draw our focus away from Truth itself, our Creator, in whose image we are made, even as we are free to choose its opposite. 

I know this with every fiber of my being, although it took five decades to get there and it’s only been two decades since. I always knew that evil was an actual thing, but I could never point to its origin. It all makes sense now.

Wrath can be defined as extreme anger. How could God not “feel” extreme anger at the force that sets out to destroy the beauty of his creation?

Yes, there is a supernatural battle going on that is far greater and in more vivid detail than we can possibly see. I shared this perspective this morning in a group prayer setting: The Enemy sees us as pawns to play in its demonic battle against Good. However, God sees us as his sons and daughters, adopted into the family business of restoring that broken creation. We are kings and queens on that cosmic chess board, make no mistake. He has, via love and grace, adorned us with the royal robe of righteousness and put on our fingers the signet rings that demonstrate we will inherit his Kingdom. (Luke 15:22). 

Surely, there has been rejoicing in heaven that we can only imagine, now that Charlie is welcomed there in glory. Yes, a life was snuffed out by evil. But let the Enemy learn that, from such unspeakable event, the army of God has only been strengthened.

Save me a place at the banquet table, Charlie, for that time I can meet you face to face and say thank you.

Lord, please give me the strength and wisdom to carry out your Will. Please guard my heart that is really angry right now … so that it does not turn hard and into contempt, for that is not loving. I know that anger is completely justified when its object is evil. You have called me to be your son but, also, a member of your army. Help me to find my role in all of that when the pathway can seem cloudy. Let your truth break into me with the help of the Holy Spirit. Let me never forget that you are equally Love and Justice and that both will prevail. Nothing, absolutely nothing, can stand against that. And nothing can separate me from you. Thank you, Jesus. Amen.

Attached: An AI depiction of the Great Battle. Archangel vs. the Demonic. This is real.

Good vs. Evil and Martyrdom

What a difference a day can make. At this time yesterday, my heart was pretty light, although the last week has been difficult due to some significant challenges facing people I deeply care for. I’d just posted a couple of reflections on compassion and empathy, purpose and mission. I was planning a camping trip up into Idaho next spring.

Not today.

Today, I am angry, grieving, raw.

Twenty-four years ago, today, a number of fanatical Islamic jihadists (Warriors for Allah) attacked our country, our way of life, our fundamental values. They were considered martyrs, dying for a cause they felt as just.

Yesterday, a man whom I admire deeply for his commitment to those fundamental values was assassinated and I am not a little bereft.

Yes, my faith and trust in God is as firm as ever. I have no doubts in that regard. However, I’m struggling to comprehend what is happening in our country and around the world.

Charlie Kirk had the audacity to publicly state his bedrock values … including the importance of free speech and open debate. He decried the insipid movement to tear down the key principles on which our country was founded and for which countless Americans have given their lives to protect. He was a kind and loving man, a devoted husband and father, a humble and faithful friend who seemingly had time to connect with thousands. He did not apologize for his core beliefs, including his overtly Christian views.

He saw our society at a crossroads. He saw and called out organized attacks against family, free speech, and the Judeo-Christian beliefs that led to concepts like liberty, freedom, and common-sense truths.

For this, he was martyred.

And, just as the organization he built is named Turning Point, I think this is a turning point. A watershed moment. A defining moment.

Others may disagree but I see this as a battle of good and evil. Build up or tear down.

Evil says it’s ok for adults to countenance the mutilation of children and even give those children permission to permanently damage themselves so as to march lock step with a brutal and insane ideology. And some of those children are not even old enough to drive a car. Evil says it’s ok to light cities on fire, burn down businesses, attack people at random and espouse philosophies of nihilism and communism, both of which have led to the deaths of hundreds of millions. Evil says it’s ok for ideologies that espouse genital mutilation of young girls and the subjugation of women to bloom and grow in our midst. Evil says it’s ok to silence the voices of high school and college students who have the audacity to disagree with the tyrannical authorities in many of our schools and universities.

All martyrdom is not equal. The Islamic fundamentalists adhere to a core belief that it is their duty to subjugate all humans and to kill those who resist. Theirs is a holy war to push back civilization to the dark ages, before the welling up of concepts such as freedom and individual liberty.

All martyrdom is not equal.

Nathan Hale had one regret … that he had but one life to give for his country. And, it wasn’t just a country, it was an idea that all men and women are created equal in the eyes of God, that we have a right to live free. Patrick Henry famously stated, “Give me liberty or give me death.”

John the Baptist. Jesus. Stephen, the first Christan martyr. Many thousands of early Christians crucified, fed to the lions. Deitrich Bonhoeffer, who famously wrote Cost of Discipleship.

Charlie Kirk, Christian martyr. A good man who gave his life to defend the principles that unapologetically made this country great.

I am not afraid of dying. I know that we humans can be seen as bit players in the vast conflict between supernatural good and evil, while each of us is completely invaluable in the eyes of God. Jesus not only preached peace but he also preached war. In this war, we are called to put on metaphorical armor as the apostle Paul declares in his letter to the church in Ephesus.

Right now, I am hurting for Charlie’s family and for his large circle of friends and the millions of young people who he has energized in this battle between good and evil. Eventually, my anger and grief may diminish but it will take time. I am not complacent nor fatalistic. 

I was on the phone last evening with a close friend and a remarkable educator who is also one of the strongest Christians I know. He is facing an extremely tough challenge right now and shared with me that he is continuing to pray Psalm 27 as he has it memorized.

I slept little last night but when I got up well before dawn, I committed to opening my bible to that psalm as I knew its basis. When I picked up my phone to read the daily scripture, as I do first thing, out of thousands of possibilities, I stared at a verse from Psalm 27.

You can’t make this up.

As David wrote three thousand years ago:

The Lord is my light and my salvation – whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life – of whom shall I be afraid? One thing I ask from the Lord, this only do I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life and to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord. I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.”

Charlie arrived in heaven yesterday and there was a mighty banquet and celebration in that other reality. He died as he lived. Engaged. Kind. Purposeful. Loving.

May we honor his legacy by carrying on his mission.

See you on the other side, brother.

Purpose and Mission

Sometimes, I just have to start laughing at the absurdity of it all.

While I grew up from early teen years with the sense of finding purpose and meaning in my life … something that many of my age-group peers were not particularly interested in considering … the target remained allusive.

In other words, the voice in my head was persistent in the background that I was destined to some kind of journey of discovery. (This was the basis of my thematic autobiography, written three years ago.) But I constantly ran into kinds of roadblocks when what I thought was the target of this compulsion proved ephemeral.

I have written extensively on purpose and meaning … the corner stones of all human endeavors. Even people who do not reflect on these things do, in fact, live by them. For me and for many whom I know well, these concepts are fundamental and openly considered and discussed.

But what’s the point?

For purpose and meaning without action are mere philosophy.

One can gaze at one’s navel or try to unwrap the Zen koan of one hand clapping or meditate upon a candle with the mere objective of losing oneself in the great and vast universe. But, to what end?

My commitment to The Search clouded my perspective and confused the voices in my head. I did understand that I was called to service in the cause of improving the lives of children. And that service was built around a belief that good intentions by conscientious adults could make a lasting impression on soon-to-be adults.

I know many such adults who do not share my core beliefs as they’ve evolved over the last two decades who are wonderful examples of what I just described.

But something has changed and that is with respect to the fundamental target.

The laughing part is that, now, I believe I am a missionary.

At one level, this is not a surprise. I was on mission in a sense for all of those years when I taught in the classroom and led large educational institutions. (I’ve reflected more than a few times that I became the principal of a high school named Mission Hills.)

But the mission has shifted just as the target has shifted. Not by much but just enough. There is now a North Star that beckons like a tractor beam. Navigation is much clearer.

I don’t just have purpose and meaning in my life. I have, in addition, a “mission statement,” a constitution of sorts, a vision of how to live out purpose and meaning. The long march through searching has changed from shifting sands to a foundation of solid rock. 

In a loose sense, the job of a missionary is to be on constant mission. And, while non-Christians and even Christians may picture a missionary as someone engaged in the jungles of Borneo or in the hot and arid lands of Africa, seeking to convert lost souls, this isn’t the whole story.

As one who firmly believes the overarching Christian narrative to be completely true (the evidence of which I have repeatedly presented on this site), my “job” as a committed follower of the risen Lord, Jesus, is to partner with him to help restore a broken creation.

Many Christians will recognize one of my titles: The adopted son of the King. That means I’ve been admitted by grace into God’s family, and I get to participate in the family business.

That business is the basis of my mission and as one who should be on mission (living out purpose) each day, that makes me a missionary.

So, what does that even look like? Especially when I do not feel the call to travel overseas for lengths of time to seek out lost souls.

(For purpose of clarification, I have absolutely no problem with claiming that there are many billions of humans who possess lost souls. In fact, that’s the main reason Jesus arrived on the scene two millennia ago. Such a concept can be considered antagonistic in a society that defines freedom in terms of relative truth. How dare you say that I can be or will be “lost” for all of eternity? And, while this may not be my own overt form of dialogue with those who do not share my beliefs, it’s still a motivating factor, make no mistake. Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me! I once was lost and now am found, was blind but now I see.)

My mission is a product of God’s primary character: He is fully both Truth and Love. As a consequence, I need to boldly speak the truth and to act out of love.

These require risk as opposed to complacency. It is not for me to park myself on the sidelines. As this pathway has become clearer, I find myself reaching out to strangers in all sorts of places, seeking to find common ground and to let them know I “see” them. Affirm those who are typically invisible to most people, those who work in mundane jobs where they perform tasks for the general public and who receive very little authentic appreciation.

Also, many years ago, I realized I had been given several “spiritual gifts,” which are kind of like supernaturally charged innate skills. These are expressed as abilities that blossom out of deep places and are expressed through relationships with others. Two of mine are teaching and leadership, activities that I’m engaged in almost all of the time. I also relish the deep conversations with fellow believers as we walk hand-in-hand on a pilgrimage into eternity.

So, I pray nearly every day that God shows me someone whose life I can bless, especially those new to me. I also pray that God grants me the eyes to see others as he sees them, the heart to feel towards them as he does and the hands and feet to carry out his will, that they may flourish and live fully in the reality of his reign and rule.

All easier said than done. I always fall well short. However, at times I am stunned by his provision as opportunities abound that I would easily have missed a while back. 

So, whether based at home in San Diego … whether within a community of believers or out and about in all the grand diversity of humanity … whether while traveling through campgrounds or on ships of hundreds or thousands crossing vast oceans … I seek to be a missionary in God’s army … living boldly, speaking clearly, seeking redemption and renewal in the hearts and minds of others as I have received in ways beyond compare. May they all experience the love of Christ as something almost unimaginable in its boundless power and have eyes anew to see all of reality as it was originally intended.

For it is glorious.

For those of you reading this, I ask for your prayers that I can continue on mission, as a missionary helping to carry out God’s will. Thank you.

Blessings,

Brad