Jennifer L. Wright's Blog, page 6

Denying Joy

I love guinea pigs.

If you’ve followed me for any amount of time, you won’t be surprised by this. These little half-pound meat potatoes bring so much joy to my life, and I’ve had to exercise an insane amount of self-control to limit myself to only three. My retirement goal is to open a guinea pig rescue sanctuary where I can take in every sweet piggy desperate for a home. Until then, I have to shower all my affection on these three:

I mean, come on. Look at them!

My kids are just as crazy about them (although they leave the poop cleaning to me most of the time). They love to snuggle and play with them, and I can often hear them giggling as watch them “popcorn” around the floor (if you don’t know what popcorning is, please google it–you won’t be disappointed). In fact, my daughter asked me the other day, “Mom, why do you think God made guinea pigs?” She recognized the little rodents had very little practical use; they pretty much just lay around and eat all day. But, tongue in cheek, I simply smiled and said, “I think God created them to make us happy.”

Now, I realize that probably isn’t true. I’m sure guinea pigs serve SOME purpose in God’s infinitely complex ecosystem. But I believe there might be some truth in the sentiment, too. I think there’s a big misconception that God expects our lives here on earth to be somber ones. Many people view Him as some harsh dictator in the sky hanging a long list of impossible rules over our heads, rules specifically designed to keep us in line and straight-faced.

But that’s simply not true.

Scripture tells us that not only is God our joy (Psalm 16:11) but that joy can be found in His creation. He created it–and He enjoys it (see Genesis 1). There are a myriad of things here on this earth that God created for our enjoyment–beautiful scenery, delicious food, loving relationships. On top of that, we would not feel the delight such things bring if we humans were not created that way. We possess the compacity to experience joy because that’s how the Creator made us–since that’s who He Himself is: our joy!

Sadly, however, there’s a catch.

Not everything that brings us joy is joyful to God. That’s because, with the fall, our sinful nature corrupted the very thing God instilled in us to be able to enjoy the world He created. Because of this, the old adage of “if it feels good, do it” or “follow your heart” is no longer a reliable signifier of God’s approval.

John Wesley, the famous English theologian, wrote that one should “deny yourself every pleasure that you are not divinely conscious brings you nearer to God.” There are many things in this world that may bring us momentary happiness or joy—but do they bring us closer to God?

That relationship with a certain person may FEEL good–but does it bring you closer to God?

That drink or drug may bring you pleasure–but does it bring you closer to God?

Watching a certain TV show or reading a certain book may entertain you–but does it bring you closer to God?

Wesley encouraged everyone to examine all their sources of joy against Scripture. Even if it brought you what you believed was happiness, if there was a rebuke against it in the pages of God’s Word, then the pleasure it brought about was not from God, but from their sinful nature and, as such, should be discouraged.

Yes, God wants us to experience joy. But, more importantly, He wants us to be holy. And sometimes, that means denying the things that our sin nature say can bring us happiness. As Wesley said, “Steadily resolve to seek happiness where it may be found; where it cannot be sought in vain. Resolve to seek it in the true God, the fountain of all blessedness…acquaint thyself now with him, and be at peace.”

And go ahead and enjoy His creation. Especially guinea pigs.

Prinsengracht 263

Anneleis Marie Frank was born in Frankfurt, Germany in 1929, the second of two daughters born to Otto and Edith Frank. Life in post-World War I Germany was rough, not only because unemployment was high and poverty was severe, but also because Adolf Hitler and his Nazi party, seizing on the country’s growing anger, were gaining more and more supporters. His blaming of Jews for Germany’s ills struck a chord with the already rampant antisemitic sentiments infesting the country, and it wasn’t long before Anne’s parents began to fear the changing winds. Hoping to escape the rapidly intensifying persecution, Otto moved his family to Amsterdam in 1934, where he founded a company that traded in pectin, a gelling agent for making jam.

But the Nazi party’s hatred could not be confined within Germany’s borders. On 1 September 1939, the Nazis invaded of Poland. World War II had begun.

Slowly, Adolf Hitler’s war machine began making its way across Europe. On 10 May 1940, the Nazis invaded the Netherlands. The Dutch army surrendered after only five days.. As they had done in other conquered lands, the Nazis began to introduce more and more laws and regulations that made the lives of Jews as difficult as possible. For instance, Jews could no longer visit parks, cinemas, or non-Jewish shops. Anne’s father lost his company, since Jews were no longer allowed to run their own businesses. All Jewish children, including Anne, had to go to separate Jewish schools.

Yet these injustices were only a taste of what was to come.

It wasn’t long before Jews, like their counterparts in other countries, had to start wearing a Star of David on their clothes, identifying themselves. Worse, however, was the rumor that all Jews would soon be forced to leave the Netherlands. When Margot, Anne’s sister, received a call-up to report for a so-called ‘labor camp’ in Germany on 5 July 1942, her parents were suspicious. Fearing the worst, they decided it was time to act on a plan Otto had already put into motion several months before.

In the spring of 1942, Anne’s father, with the help of several of his colleagues, had started furnishing a hiding place in the annex of his business premises at Prinsengracht 263. In July of that same year, the Franks moved into the annex. The Van Pels family, business associates of Otto, followed a week later. Eventually, they were joined by Fritz Pfeffer, another acquaintance of the Frank family.

For two years, assisted by outside help, the Frank family and their friends hid inside the Secret Annex. It was cramped and overcrowded, the atmosphere often tense. The threat of discovery was constant. Anne’s one escape was a diary, presented to her just before the family went into hiding, in which she wrote about her thoughts, feelings, and daily life inside the Annex.

Only nine months before the war’s end, in August 1944, the Frank family was discovered when police raided the house on Prisengracht. All those hiding inside were immediately sent to concentration camps. Otto Frank was the only member of the family to survive the war. And, although Anne’s diary had been miraculously preserved and would soon become the definitive account of Jewish life during Nazi occupation, the Secret Annex and all of its memories soon fell into disrepair.

In 1950, the Berghaus textile factory wanted to buy the houses on the corner of the Prinsengracht and the Westermarkt, including Prinsengracht 263, in hopes of demolishing them for the construction of a new factory building. Although the building contained only ghosts and pain, Otto still struggled when the demolition was announced. It felt wrong to see it razed to the ground. Lacking funds for proper restoration work, however, Otto reluctantly sold the building to Berghaus in 1954.

But Anne’s legacy would not be silenced.

Inspired by the young girl’s words, a committee of prominent Amsterdam citizens took the initiative to save the building from demolition and, in 1957, the Berghaus company abandoned its plans for a new factory building, instead donating the former hiding place at Prinsengracht 263 to the Anne Frank House Organization. Eventually, the Secret Annex was restored to its World War II appearance and opened to the public as a museum on this day in 1960. To this day, it remains one of Amsterdam’s biggest draws, attracting 1.2 million visitors every year.

Book News!

I’ve had a lot of people asking me when my next book is coming out. So, here’s the deal:

Due to circumstances beyond my control, I will NOT have a book releasing in 2024.

I know. I’m bummed about it, too.

There are a lot of circumstances that played into this but I can tell you one that absolutely DID NOT factor into this was me not writing.

In fact, I have been working overtime and just submitted a new manuscript TODAY that *fingers crossed* should be coming your way in 2025!

Want proof?

This the face of an exhausted writer who just wrote and re-wrote…and re-wrote…and re-wrote…95,000 words over the past six months. Look at those red eyes. That flyaway gray hair. Those wrinkles and vacant expression.

I don’t normally look this haggard, folks. ; )

Stay tuned for more book news! I’ll share as soon as I am able!

I Am No Painter

Lewis Smedes, the renowned Christian author, tells a remarkable story about Michelangelo in his book Standing on the Promises: “One early evening, as dusk darkened the Sistine Chapel, Michelangelo, weary, sore, and doubtful, climbed down the ladder from his scaffolding where he had been lying on his back since dawn painting the chapel ceiling. After eating a lonely supper, he wrote a sonnet to his aching body.” The last line? “I am no painter.”

Smedes was astonished to learn this, and rightly so. Michelangelo? The same man whose magnificent visions on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel have inspired awe and wonder within the masses for generations—this man believed himself to be “no painter”?!?

As shocking as these words might be, I find them to be a comforting reminder:

We all have, at one time or another, suffered from self-doubt.

And me? Well, it happens to me all the time.

Every time I start a new novel, I believe I’m going to fail. I think there is no possible way I will be able to get the story I have inside my head down on paper. Trust me, there is nothing more intimidating than a blank Word document! I believed this self-doubt would lessen with each published book but, honestly, it’s only gotten worse. I start to worry there is no way I can top what I last wrote. Worse is the fear that I will disappoint my readers, my publisher, and myself.

And, of course, self-doubt isn’t just limited to my work. At times, I doubt myself as a mother, as a wife, as a friend. In my darkest moments, I doubt myself as a Christian, dwelling on all my sins and failures, agonizing over just how little I deserve God’s love and how big of a hypocrite people would think me to be if they saw the contents of my heart.

How could God ever use a person like me?

The irony is that, in these moments where I feel the least deserving of God’s presence is precisely the time I need to be in it the most. Because only in His presence can I find the hope I need to overcome the paralyzing effects of self-doubt. In Him, I find my worth regardless of my fears and feelings, a worth not determined by how “good” or “bad” I am, but one that is steadfast and unwavering simply because of WHOSE I AM.

I am not the sum of my insecurities or failures. I am a dearly beloved child of God. One for whom He has a plan and a purpose, regardless of the worries and self-doubts plaguing my sinful heart.

Friends, when those moments of anxiety make you begin to question your significance, lean into the One who created you and called you by name. In Him, you will always find yourself…and His ultimate victory.

Shots Fired

By 1775, tensions between the American colonies and the British government were reaching a breaking point.

Although the Declaration of Independence was still over a year away, preparations were already being made for what many colonists viewed as an inevitable conflict. In Massachusetts, for example, Patriots had formed a “shadow” government and were training militias to fight the British troops currently occupying Boston–and they weren’t being secretive about it. Word–and a growing sense of anxiety–made its way across stretched the Atlantic and, in the spring of 1775, General Thomas Gage, the British governor of Massachusetts, received instructions from England to seize all stores of weapons and gunpowder accessible to the American insurgents. On April 18, he ordered 700 British troops to march from Boston to Concord, a distance of about 20 miles, commandeer the arsenal there, and then capture Patriot leaders Samuel Adams and John Hancock, who were known to be residing in Lexington.

But this was exactly what the Patriots had been training for.

Cue your fifth grade history lesson on the famous “midnight ride.”

The weekend before, as if warned by some uncanny sixth sense, Patriot Paul Revere had arranged for a lantern to be displayed in the steeple of Boston’s Christ Church, which could be used to warn the militia of the British’s approach. According to Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s poem “The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere,” the alarm would go as follows:

“One if by land, and two if by sea;

And I on the opposite shore will be,

Ready to ride and spread the alarm

Through every Middlesex, village and farm,

For the country folk to be up and to arm.”

Seeing the lanterns and learning of the British plan, Paul Revere and William Dawes set out to rouse the militiamen and warn Adams and Hancock. Along the way, the men stopped at each house, alerting the countrymen to the coming invasion. The story goes, as he approached the house where Adams and Hancock were staying, a sentry asked that he not make so much noise. “Noise!” said Revere, “You’ll have noise enough before long. The regulars are coming out!”

When the British troops arrived at Lexington at around 5 a.m. on the morning of April 19, a group of about 80 militiamen were waiting. British Major John Pitcairn ordered the outnumbered Patriots to disperse, and after a moment’s hesitation, the Americans began to drift off the green. Suddenly, a shot was fired from an undetermined gun, and a cloud of musket smoke soon covered the green. When the brief Battle of Lexington ended just minutes later, eight Americans lay dead or dying and 10 others were wounded. Only one British soldier was injured.

The Patriots had been routed. But Revere and Dawes’s warning–as well as the pandemonium caused by the short battle–had awakened Massachusetts.

The first battle was over. But the Revolutionary War was only just beginning.

When the British troops reached Concord at about 7 a.m. on the morning of April 19, they found themselves encircled by hundreds of armed Patriots. Although managing to destroy the military cache stored there, the British suffered numerous casualties at the hands of the militiamen. The commander of the British force, Lt. Col. Francis Smith, ordered his men to return to Boston without directly engaging the Americans. As the British retraced their 16-mile journey, their lines were constantly beset by Patriot marksmen firing at them from behind trees, rocks, and stone walls. At Lexington, Captain Parker’s militia had its revenge, killing several British soldiers as the Red Coats hastily marched through his town. By the time the British finally reached the safety of Boston, nearly 300 British soldiers had been killed, wounded or were missing in action. The Patriots suffered fewer than 100 casualties.

It would take seven years, 10,000 deaths, and a tangent of soldiers from all over Europe, but on April 19, 1775, the birth pangs first began in what would ultimately result in a free, independent United State of America.

Who Are You?

Who are you?

This used to be a simple question.

But “identity” has become such a complex flashpoint in our culture that this once seemingly innocuous question has now become much more loaded.

Who are you?

Culture will try to give us many answers to this question. You are your name, your age, your social status, your job, your family situation, your sexual preference. It will try to get us to define ourselves in terms of our feelings, our medical conditions, our strengths and weaknesses. It will spell out our identity based on what we have or what we don’t, the way we vote, and what we believe about certain issues.

And, can I be honest? It. is. EXHAUSTING.

Because, based on culture’s constantly-shifting standards, I can never be sure which identity is “right.” I can believe an identity based on one of these qualifiers is good one day only to be told it’s bad the next. What I’ve come to accept as an integral part of who I am can suddenly be something the world demands I change. Is it any wonder rates of depression and anxiety have skyrocketed over the past few years? Finding our identity in the world’s fluid measurements leads to nothing but doubt, insecurity, and confusion.

But there is a better way.

One of my favorite passages in Scripture comes in the book of Matthew 3, when Jesus comes to John on the banks of the Jordan River, asking to be baptized. Although John at first refuses, saying “I need to be baptized by you, and yet you come to me?” (verse 14, emphasis mine), eventually he relents. We pick up in verse 16:

“When Jesus was baptized, he went up immediately from the water. The heavens opened for him, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and coming down on him. And a voice from heaven said: ‘This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well-pleased'” (verses 16-17).

Keep in mind, this episode occurs before Jesus begins His earthly ministry. He hasn’t begun preaching, teaching, or healing. He is still years away from His ultimate work on the cross. And yet, in this moment, Jesus is reminded in a meaningful way about His true identity. About who He really is.

He is beloved.

He is not where He was born. He is not His job. He is not His social class, the amount of money in His pocket, or the clothes on His back. And He is certainly not the sum of His feelings.

He is the beloved Son of God.

Because Jesus understood this deeply, others’ opinions of Him didn’t matter so much. Security in God’s unchanging love for Him allowed Him to boldly step out into His earthly duty and fulfill God’s purpose for Him on earth. He never had to sway from side to side, trying to change His identity to meet the expectations of the world around Him. He was who He was, comfortable and confident because of His trust in His Father.

And, did you know that when you put your faith in Jesus, YOU become a beloved son or daughter of God, too?

John 1:12 says “But to all who did receive him [Jesus], he gave them the right to be children of God, to those who believe in his name…“

Paul says it like this in Romans 8: “For all those led by God’s spirit are God’s sons…you received a spirit of adoption, by whom we cry out ‘Abba, Father!’ The Spirit himself testifies together with our spirit that we are God’s children…” (Romans 8:14-16).

And just in case you didn’t get it, he writes again in Galatians 3:26: “…for through faith you are all sons of God in Christ Jesus.”

Friend, please don’t miss this point: YOU ARE GOD’S BELOVED CHILD.

And this is an identity that will not change because it is not an identity based on your job, your economic position, or your social clout. It isn’t based on whether you are single, married, widowed, or divorced. It isn’t based on what you do or how you feel each day.

It is based on who are you IN CHRIST JESUS.

Jesus HIMSELF has already given you your identity. So you don’t need to look to the world–or anything in it–to define you. And, unlike the world’s constant fluctuation, Jesus’s opinion of you WILL NEVER CHANGE.

You are His BELOVED.

Friends, I pray today that you live from a place of that knowledge, understanding at your deepest level just how very much you are loved by the One who gave you breath. Let His opinions and standards be the only benchmark you set for your life. Because, truly, in the end, they are the only ones that will ever matter.

Reds, Greens, and Rosenbergs

SPOILER ALERT: If you haven’t read my novel Come Down Somewhere, please do not read this week’s “History Friday” post as it contains potential spoilers about the content of the story.

In a subtle hint of things to come, Jo, one of the main characters in Come Down Somewhere, picks up a newspaper in a local diner and glances over the day’s headlines:

“Most of it was about the war in Korea, reminding people of the importance of a United States victory–even though it had been locked in a stalemate for months–in order to stem the threat of Communist spread. A smaller blurb underneath told of a protest in New York City, demanding clemency for the convicted Soviet spies, the Rosenbergs. It was inconsequential, the article said; their execution would likely proceed next June. Americans had little sympathy for ‘Reds.'” (page 249)

This, of course, was a clue to the Soviet espionage that would be revealed later in the book, but it also reflected a real news story from March 1952. The Rosenbergs were real people convicted of spying in the early 1950’s. And they really were executed, despite occasional protests about their sentence.

So….who were the Rosenbergs?

Julius Rosenberg was the son of Jewish immigrants from Russia. Although he and his family struggled during the Great Depression, he still managed to graduate with a degree in electrical engineering from City College New York. In addition to his studies, however, Julius also found a sense of purpose in the growing Communist movement. In 1936, while attending a meeting of the Young Communists League, he met a woman by the name of Ethel Greenglass, and the two were wed in 1939.

Rosenberg joined the Army Signal Corps Engineering Laboratories at Fort Monmouth, New Jersey, in 1940, where he worked as an engineer-inspector. According to documents released by his former handler Alexander Feklisov, Rosenberg was originally recruited to spy for the interior ministry of the Soviet Union, NKVD, on Labor Day 1942 by former spymaster Semyon Semyonov, whom he had met through a high-ranking member of the Communist Party USA.

In addition to supplying thousands of classified reports from his own job, Rosenberg also recruited sympathetic individuals into NKVD service, including a man named William Perl, who provided Feklisov, Rosenberg’s handler, thousands of documents from the National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics, including a complete set of design and production drawings for Lockheed’s P-80 Shooting Star, the first U.S. operational jet fighter. Rosenberg also managed to recruit his brother-in-law, David Greenglass, who was working on the top-secret Manhattan Project at Los Alamos. Greenglass began passing atomic secrets via courier Harry Gold directly to Soviet officials. Rosenburg also managed to recruit a second atomic spy, engineer Russell McNutt, who worked on designs for the plants at Oak Ridge National Laboratory in Tennessee.

Although the U.S. long suspected Soviet espionage, it wasn’t until January 1950 that their speculation found solid footing. It was then that they discovered Klaus Fuchs, a German refugee theoretical physicist working for the British mission in the Manhattan Project, had given key documents to the Soviets throughout the war. Fuchs identified his courier as American Harry Gold, who was arrested on May 23, 1950. Gold soon gave up Greenglass, who was arrested on June 15, 1950, who, in turn, gave up Rosenberg. Initially, it was only Julius who was arrested. However, during testimony before a grand jury, Greenglass admitted he had passed information to Julius inside their New York City apartment and Ethel, at Julius’s request, had read over Greenglass’s notes and typed them up. Ethel, for her part, invoked the Fifth Amendment during his testimony and refused to answer any of the grand jury’s questions. She was arrested as she left the courthouse.

The Rosenbergs’ trial began on March 6, 1951, in the U.S. District Court for the Southern District of New York. The prosecution’s primary witness, David Greenglass–Ethel’s own brother–claimed he turned over to Julius Rosenberg a sketch of the cross-section of an implosion-type atom bomb identical to the “Fat Man” bomb dropped on Nagasaki, Japan. Other testimony convinced both judge and jury that Rosenberg was the “king pin” of a large espionage ring and that his wife was a knowing and willing accomplice. On March 29, 1951, both Rosenbergs were convicted and seventy-three years ago today, on April 5, 1951, they were both sentenced to death under Section 2 of the Espionage Act of 1917.

Not everyone, however, was convinced of their guilt.

Some Americans believed the pair to be innocent, the victim of a “witch hunt” or even antisemitism, while others maintained their punishment, particularly Ethel’s, too harsh. A campaign was started to try to prevent the couple’s execution. Tellingly, though, the Rosenbergs did not receive support from mainstream Jewish organizations nor did the American Civil Liberties Union acknowledge any violations of civil liberties in the case. In a time of rapid, rampant fear, support for anything “Red” was dangerous.

On June 19, 1953, both Julius and Ethel Rosenberg were executed at Sing Sing Prison in New York, becoming the first American civilians to be executed for such charges and the first to receive that penalty during peacetime.

Debate still rages about the severity of their crimes and if death was an appropriate punishment. Their former handler, Alexander Feklisov, maintained that Rosenbergs did not provide the Soviet Union with any useful material about the atomic bomb, especially the notes supposedly typed by Ethel. On the other hand, in 1995, the U.S. government made public many documents decoded by the Venona project, which was a counterintelligence program used by the United States to decrypt messages transmitted by the intelligence agencies of the Soviet Union. Included in the documents was a 1944 cable that clearly stated that David Greenglass was being recruited as a spy by his sister (that is, Ethel Rosenberg) and her husband. Another cable revealed that both Ethel and Julius had regular contact with at least two KGB agents.

Their children, among others, still continue to maintain their innocence, however.

Is God Really Good?

Is God really good?

Chances are, if you’re a Christian, you had a knee-jerk reaction to this question.

Of course God is good. It says so in Scripture. We sing about it in multiple songs during worship time. Many of us even us it as our “battle cries.” (Say it with me if you know it: “God is good….” “….all of the time!”)

I’ve been walking with God for several years, and I, too, would answer this question in the affirmative. I can look back over my life and see ways in which God’s goodness and faithfulness came through. So, yes, much like you, my immediate response to the question of ‘Is God good?’ would be yes.

But I’m also the first to admit that perhaps one of the reasons I think God is good is because right now, at this moment, my life feels pretty good. I have a beautiful home; plenty of food in my pantry; joyful, healthy children; a steady job; a loving husband. It’s quite easy to be happy with God when I’m, well, happy.

What about those times when things aren’t so shiny though? Maybe it’s the death of a family member, an unexpected diagnosis, the disintegration of a marriage, the loss of a job. Maybe–God forbid–it’s all those things at once.

What about then? Is God still good even when my circumstances are not?

You see, even though we may not FEEL like God is good in those moments, God still calls us to a posture of worship and praise even when our circumstances are less than ideal. The prophet Habakkuk said:

“Though the fig tree does not bud
and there are no grapes on the vines,
though the olive crop fails
and the fields produce no food,
though there are no sheep in the pen
and no cattle in the stalls,
yet I will rejoice in the Lord,
I will be joyful in God my Savior.
The Sovereign Lord is my strength;
he makes my feet like the feet of a deer,
he enables me to tread on the heights.” (3:17-19)

Paul put it even more succinctly in his first letter to the Thessalonians:

“Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.“(5:16-18)

Rejoice always? Give thanks in all circumstances?

That’s a hefty command, especially in those seasons where life seems determined to defeat you. In those darkest moments, it may not only feel like the act of worship is too hard; it might actually make you begin to question if the cost of following God is too high. I mean, who wants to offer a sacrifice of praise (because, let’s be honest, in those times, praise IS a sacrifice) to a God who has allowed these negative, hurtful, or seemingly soul-crushing events to happen? Who wants to even follow a God like that?

Friend, if that is you, may I speak something into your heart right now? It’s okay to feel that way. God understands the grief and heartbreak that come along with obedience.

Because He gave His Son.

Not only did Christ endure heartache, rejection, suffering, and ultimately a painful but willing death during His time on earth, His Father experienced the grief and agony of that loss. Both God the Son and God the Father experienced the agony that can come with obedience.

He understands.

But also, friends, we have to remember in those moments of deepest hurts, when confusion sets in and we begin to wonder if God truly is good, that our expectations of God are not always equal to the promises of God.

The Christian life is indeed full of much joy and light, happiness and content. But it is not always. Just like unbelievers, we have moments of darkness and depression, fear and anxiety, grief and heartbreak. And that is something we have to remember:

God never promised us a life free of those things.

In fact, Jesus Himself promises in John 16:33 that “in this world, [we] will have trouble.”

But those troubles do not change the unchangeable nature of God. And God, in His very nature, IS good. We simply have to be careful about putting an expectation on what that “goodness” looks like. That goodness does not equal a life full of ease and comfort. But it does ensure a lifetime of walking side by side with our Creator. Because although we may not have the promise of an easy life, we DO have the promise of His presence. And it is in God’s presence alone that we truly discover His goodness, no matter our external circumstances.

So spend some time with God today. No matter your circumstance or stress, talk with Him. Walk with Him. Listen to His voice.

And then come back to that question again:

Is God good?

When The Waters Ran Dry

If I were to say the words “Niagra Falls,” what would be the first thing that came to your mind?

Can I venture a guess? If the word “water” wasn’t your first choice, I think it’s pretty safe to assume it was a close second.

That’s because, even if you’ve never been in person, Niagra Falls hails as one of the most famous (and, according to its website, “most Instagrammed”) landmarks in the United States. And, if you know nothing else about it, you still more than likely know that it’s a large waterfall.

In fact, what we know as Niagra Falls is actually three waterfalls: the largest and most famous Horseshoe Falls, which straddles the international border between United States and Canada; American Falls; and Bridal Veil Falls, both of which lie within the United States. Created by the Niagara River, a body of water which formed over 12,000 years ago when Lake Erie carved a channel into Lake Ontario, and so-named from the word “Onguiaahra,” from the Iroquois people who originally settled there, the combined falls have the highest flow rate of any waterfall in North America. In fact, more than 5.9 million cubic feet of water goes over the crest of the falls every minute.

Its magnificence and power is well-known through the world. “When I felt how near to my Creator I was standing,” Charles Dickens wrote in 1842, “the first effect, and the enduring one—instant lasting—of the tremendous spectacle, was Peace.” Visits are often touted as religious or spiritual experiences, so awesome is the raw power of God’s creation on display in the rushing, roaring falls. It seems indestructible. Immovable. Unstoppable.

Until, shockingly, on this day back in 1903 when it just…wasn’t.

Now, the falls had stopped before. Sometime around midnight on March 30, 1848, the Niagara River “ran dry from lake to lake.” For more than a day, no water flowed over the Falls. Work ceased at factories and mills along the river. Churches were crowded with penitents who feared the world was coming to an end.

It wasn’t of course. Millions of tons of ice had simply become lodged at the mouth of the Niagara River at Lake Erie, blocking the channel completely. The dam held the water for approximately thirty hours until the wind shifted and the pent-up weight of the water broke, forcing the Niagara River to flow again.

But on March 22, 1903, there was no ice. There was no dam.

And yet still, there was no water.

The most powerful waterfall in the United States was nothing more than a trickle.

The cause?

Drought.

As powerful as water was, the strength of the sun and lack of precipitation was stronger. And the falls that had seemed at once so powerful withered under their strain.

Eventually, rain began to fall and water began to flow again, returning the falls to its magnificent state. But seeing these mighty waters stopped for a time is a humbling reminder of just how small we are relative to creation and how even the most seemingly steadfast and immovable forces around us are still no match for the purpose and direction of their Creator.

The Choice of the Yoke

We’ve all been there.

Your alarm goes off, and an immediate sense of dread overtakes you. Or maybe even tears. The thought of getting out of bed sends an ache into your stomach. You are exhausted. You are fed up. You simply can’t do life today. You feel as if you have absolutely nothing left.

Psychologists have a word for this feeling. It’s called “burnout.”

And it’s infecting our world at at a rapid pace.

According to the National Library of Medicine:

“Burnout is a psychological syndrome emerging as a prolonged response to chronic interpersonal stressors on the job. The three key dimensions of this response are an overwhelming exhaustion, feelings of cynicism and detachment from the job, and a sense of ineffectiveness and lack of accomplishment. The significance of this three‐dimensional model is that it clearly places the individual stress experience within a social context and involves the person’s conception of both self and others.”

And it doesn’t just have to be a “job” in the sense of working outside of the home. Stay-at-home caregivers, especially those for the very old or the very young, are just as susceptible to burnout as those who commute to outside jobs. And the statistics behind this burnout epidemic are sobering:

According to the American Psychological Association:

“As in 2020, American workers across the board saw heightened rates of burnout in 2021, and according to APA’s 2021 Work and Well-being Survey of 1,501 U.S. adult workers, 79% of employees had experienced work-related stress in the month before the survey. Nearly 3 in 5 employees reported negative impacts of work-related stress, including lack of interest, motivation, or energy (26%) and lack of effort at work (19%). Meanwhile, 36% reported cognitive weariness, 32% reported emotional exhaustion, and an astounding 44% reported physical fatigue—a 38% increase since 2019.”

That equates to a lot of stressed out, fed up, disinterested folks. Perhaps you’re one of them. If not, chances are, you know someone who is. Think about this for a moment: Based on these statistics, odds are pretty high that one of your neighbors is experiencing burnout. One of your friends. One of your coworkers.

Let’s take it a step further: One of your doctors. One of your child’s caregivers. One of the pastors on the staff of your church. One of those truckers you pass on the highway.

We all should seek to be healthy, happy, and whole, and we should want those things for others as well. But the situation becomes even more serious when we think of all the professions on which we depend on the workers to be at their best, not only for them, but for the safety and security of those around them.

Burnout is real. And it can have real, lasting, negative consequences.

“Adulting” carries with it a plethora of responsibilities and, with it, stressors we cannot ignore. Bills, deadlines, parenthood, medical issues, and economic uncertainty are unfortunate facts of life. And, over the last few years, the stress of the COVID-19 pandemic and its ensuing shut-downs and mandates added to the long-list of stressors already afflicting our world. But, even as the pandemic waned, burnout seemed to actually increase, at least according to studies.

So what gives?

Now, let me be 100% clear here: I am not a doctor. I’ve had no medical training, mental health or otherwise, whatsoever. But, I am a member of this “burnout generation,” and I have gone through my fair share of it. So, if I could be so bold as to propose as underlying cause no one wants to talk about?

Visit any therapist or mental health website for burnout-related issues, and they all tell you the same thing:

“focus on maintaining balance, taking things off the plate when [you] add something new”take “increased time off”utilize “services as after-school tutoring and childcare.”offer “resiliency training”

Don’t get me wrong; all of these things are well and good. Work/life balance is imperative when it comes to mental health. But if you’re looking to cure burnout? These things won’t come close.

That’s because burnout goes much deeper than physical or even mental fatigue. Burnout is, I believe, is an exhaustion of our souls. Vacations don’t fix burnout. Spa days don’t either.

The only thing that can truly cure this burnout epidemic is Jesus.

Our society is becoming increasingly secular. That means, any role God may have played in our lives in the past is now replaced by ourselves. Looking for wisdom? It’s found within ourselves. Peace? Happiness? Joy? Contentment? You don’t need to look to the outside, and especially not to some non-exist God. Our “truest selves” are the source of all those things.

Not only is the problem inside me, but I’m supposed to find the solution there too.

Is it any wonder we’re all exhausted?

Friends, although we are living in a unique time with its own unique stresses, so has every generation that has come before us. Troubles, uncertainty, and difficulties are all a part of this fallen world. As John Mark Comer once put it: “There is a weight to life.” Believer or non-believer, I think we can all agree this is true. And that’s why the words of Jesus are so comforting:

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” —Matthew 11:28-30

The question is never about whether or not our lives will have a yoke; they inevitably will. The choice, instead, is about whether we will shoulder a heavy one or a light one.

Will we be tied to the yoke of selves, constantly forced to provide the answer for every problem, changing our stripes with every whim of culture? Or will we accept the yoke of Jesus, surrendering to His sovereignty and unchanging Word?

This requires making a radical shift from leading our lives to being led. To ceding control, power, and our own god-of-selves to the One who already IS those things (whether we want to admit it or not).

I believe our society will never find an answer to the problem of burnout until we readily receive the yoke of Jesus. Only He can offer us true rest for our bodies and our souls–rest that goes deeper and lasts longer than any vacation or massage ever can. The act of surrender in itself releases the weight of a thousand stressors…and it only gets better from there.

So whose yoke will you carry?