If anyone and everyone is our neighbor to be beloved as self and for good to be done to, then how much more should we love, value for care for the heavenly family?   

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Culturally, our perception of the house of the Lord is predisposed to lofty visions of giant steeples, padded pews and wooden pulpits sparkling in a religious palace where those who enter are dressed like lawyers and senators.  And yet, all the church has ever needed is bread, a cup and the words and Spirit of Jesus filling every soul as we worship His Lordship with one heart and voice.  Everything else is expendable.

If Abraham, the disciples and John the Baptist wrestled with doubt thousands of years ago as the things we read about were happening right before their eyes, how much more will those of us who have not seen His face doubt today?  Doubt has it's place along the journey.

As broken vessels, when we find ourselves running out of hope and peace, there's only one who can fill our cup with the best spiritual wine.

After 168 hours of eerie, deafening silence, Job's carefully-chosen first words back aren't snazzy, feel-good religious confetti.  But they are so real, so raw and so brutally honest.  A question we should not be too afraid to ask or to ponder ourselves.

Far too often, we as people jump to reckless and judgmental conclusions as to why tragedy is occurring in somebody else's life.  What we learn from Job is that tribulation doesn't automatically come to us because of what horrible sinners we were who got what was coming to us all along.  But what's far more important than speculating on the "why" is our attitude in reply.

It's perhaps THE #1 question that is voiced by an unbelieving world.  But it is also a very human thought.  One every believer should also ponder with a certain regularity.

3 extremely strange and unusual Sabbaths to remember and to learn from on this extremely strange and unusual Easter.  

In their song book, the ancient Israelites mentally stepped out of the chaos of an ominous world and were reminded, emboldened and empowered by a sacred, silent process of being still while the storm raged on.