I lived on Nicollet Ave. in a city that's been ablaze with rage, but I was too tiny to know anything but the security of arms cradling me. Minneapolis, MN was simply home. My birthplace. My nativity.

This morning a candle wafts rich vanilla into my chilly basement and my Bible is open to the book of Jeremiah. Jeremiah's intensity seems fitting for the fractures dividing our country. "There is no cure for my grief," he writes. "My heart breaks for what I see and hear" (Jeremiah 8:18, The Voice).

Maybe that's what you feel too. The heaviness. The defeat. The grief.

As I read Jeremiah 9:23-24, I wonder what breakthrough might happen if we spent less time drawing conclusions and more time drawing close to God. Less time taking sides and more time by His side.

Links mentioned:

1. To get a short, doable tip in your inbox every week to help you get to know your neighbors, sign up HERE.

2. Read the written version of this episode HERE.