From SM Lockridge’s famous message…

It’s Friday. Jesus is praying. Peter’s a sleeping. Judas is betraying. But Sunday’s comin’.

It’s Friday. Pilate’s struggling. The council is conspiring. The crowd is vilifying. They don’t even know that Sunday’s comin’…

I've been reading through the table-turning, parable-telling Gospels and am sure I would have doubted Jesus as Messiah if I lived in His day. He wasn't the revolutionary warrior-Messiah people expected. He didn't come from high influence, and He never seemed to be in a hurry, no matter how hard-pressed things were.

Our autistic son is a noise-sensitive music lover. We gave him noice-canceling headphones and secondhand iPod shuffle. (We thought we were nailing it as parents.) Newsflash: Giving an mp3 player to a 4-year old who's never touched a device is a TERRIBLE idea.

It's been a regular week with regular highs and lows. I sat in traffic, made sandwiches, and went to parks. On Tuesday, an uninvited measure of dread crept into my spirit. I didn't want to face the normal, still-privileged problems that would present themselves that afternoon. I don't always remember to call my heart to worship during the monotonous moments. I don't often walk to the park with purpose and power.

A legislative bill aggressively moving forward mandates teachers to help students 12 years and older get abortions without telling their parents. Failure to assist a child's secret abortion results in jail time for the educator.

Moses was born into a death sentence. Through extraordinary circumstances, he was adopted into the same royal family that tried to kill him. Years later, that miracle baby became a murder and refugee. He fled from his identity. He was not a Hebrew slave nor deliverer. He was not Egyptian royalty. He became a foreign shepherd that didn't even have his own sheep. Still, God Almighty entrusted this miraculous, messy, murderous man of the fields to fulfill a 400 year prophecy.

We've received many heavy messages this week of loss, sickness, brokenness, financial need, loneliness and more. I want to shake my fists when seven-year olds are hospitalized, family members are gone too soon, businesses are closing, and fear is on the rise.

Today's Call to Worship is a call to action.

I boarded a South Africa-bound plane exactly 14 years ago today. I promised I'd be back in six months, although I hadn't purchased a return ticket. One year later, I returned briefly to raise missions support for a life I hadn't expected.

I have found myself in the beginning of my Bible at the beginning of a new year. The fall of man is the first account after creation, just three chapters in. Every page after is filled with God's pursuit of unbroken relationship with us, no matter the cost.