Alan Fadling's Blog, page 7

UL #329: The Christian Life Simplified

 

What is the Christian life really about? Is it prayer, church involvement, ministry, justice, or evangelism? These are all meaningful aspects, but is there something deeper at the heart of it all? In this episode, I reflect on a question my mentor, Chuck Miller, often asked: “What is the Christian life?” His answer offers a profound simplicity—one that shifts our focus from what we do to who we are with. Together, we’ll explore how Jesus as our Good Shepherd transforms our faith from a list of tasks into an ongoing, intimate relationship.

If you’ve ever felt like the Christian life is overwhelming, like a growing list of commitments, this conversation is for you. We’ll look at Jesus’ words in John 10, where he calls his sheep by name and leads them out—not just in the past, but in the present moment. You are not alone in this journey of faith. Jesus invites you into his life, guiding you, speaking to you, and walking with you every step of the way.

 

In this episode, we discuss:

How shifting our focus from “what” to “who” can transform our faith.
The image of Jesus as the Good Shepherd and why it still matters today.
Practical ways to listen for and recognize the voice of Jesus in daily life.

Knowing by Unknowing: The Grace of Holy Subtraction

Blog by Alan Fadling

I love books. I don’t imagine that surprises you. I’m writing this little article in my home office, where most of the wall space is taken up with a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf. I’ve enjoyed reading for as long as I can remember. As a kid, I used to hang out for hours at our local library in Carmichael, California. My parents put books in my stocking in hopes that I’d read instead of pestering them too early on Christmas morning.

 

As a young pastor in the fall of 1994, I remember one of many bookstore visits. It was a Barnes & Noble in Pasadena, California, and I was browsing the faith section. There I saw a book by an author I’d heard of but never read. That author was Thomas Merton and the title was New Seeds of Contemplation. I’ve enjoyed reading portions of it many times since.

 

I’d been on a fresh spiritual formation journey for a few years by then, and Merton’s book felt like a divine appointment. For a long time, my way of engaging a meaningful book that meets me at just the right time has been to capture quotations from it and reflect on them in my journal. I’m drawing today’s article from a journal passage from that first reading of New Seeds over thirty years ago.

 

In his first chapter Merton posed a question I had found myself asking at the time: “What is contemplation?” There weren’t many among my fellow college pastors who were using that sort of language when talking about their spiritual lives, but I was finding it increasingly inviting in my own life with God. (I had been labeled a mystic in my previous college pastor role, and it wasn’t meant as an affirmation.)

 

One of Merton’s insights that spoke to me then was that “in contemplation...we know by ‘unknowing.’”* Up until then, my experience of growing in Christian knowledge had mostly involved learning more and more about God and God’s ways and God’s counsel. But I was coming to a place in which God was inviting me to unlearn a few things. I would grow by subtraction rather than addition.

 

I had some less than helpful assumptions about who God was and what God expected. I had some expectations about the nature of my ministry that weren’t serving me well. And I had some perspectives about myself that were doing more harm than good.

 

These ideas and perspectives that I needed to unlearn about God and myself weren’t nurturing my soul. I held expectations about my ministry that were subtly wearing me down rather than enabling me to live and serve sustainably. And the views I held about myself, though familiar, weren’t reflecting the truth of who I am in God’s eyes. These were the things God was inviting me to unlearn.

 

I had been reading other spiritual writers at the time who were speaking to the same places in my soul. It wasn’t so much that I needed to unlearn one set of ideas and replace them with another more accurate set of ideas. It was that I needed to unlearn my habit of settling for knowing about God rather than knowing God relationally in love.

 

God wasn’t inviting me to be an expert in God ideas. He was inviting me to grow deeper in communion.

 

God invites us into the knowledge of experiencing him rather than just knowing and reading about him. It is a knowing that encompasses not only my God-given mind but also my God-given heart, soul, and strength.

 

My experience of God through Jesus Christ that was growing in me at that time seemed to be increasingly hard to describe. There was an element of mystery in my experience of Christ in me. Knowing Christ more deeply was about more than just fine-tuning my doctrines, my devotions, or my theology. These had been important and valuable to me up until then. I was being invited into an encounter with God in Christ, experiencing his presence in me by his Holy Spirit. I was being drawn to gaze on him as David describes in Psalm 27:4:

 

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,

to gaze on the beauty of the Lord

and to seek him in his temple.

 

Seeking. Dwelling. Gazing. These are a little different from talking about, thinking about, believing about. And it is this contemplative vision that has refined my knowledge of God, grown wisdom in me, and deepened my confidence in God. It has been the engine of necessary and holy unlearning for me.

 

For Reflection:

What might God be inviting you to unlearn about him, yourself, or your life today?
How might your spiritual life deepen if you focused less on knowing about God and more on encountering and experiencing God?
What does it look like for you to seek, dwell, and gaze on the beauty of the Lord in this season of your life?

 

(Purchases made via the links may provide an Amazon Affiliate commission fee to Unhurried Living. This adds nothing to the cost of your purchase).

 

*Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation (New Directions Books, 1961), 1-2.

UL #328: Finding God’s Presence in Grief and Loss

 

Have you ever found yourself in a dark, overwhelming season, wondering if God could hear you? We explore the healing power of lament as a way to express grief, open to God’s presence, and find rest for your soul. Lament isn't about having all the answers; it’s about allowing space for God to meet you where you are.

What to Expect as you Listen:

How lament can deepen your connection with God during times of grief.
Practical steps to process loss through honesty, community, and restorative practices.
Reflection questions to help you engage with lament in your own life and leadership.

 

Recommended Resources:

Psalm 116 Scripture Reference

Resources from Unhurried Living - Explore more resources on spiritual practices and personal growth at Unhurried Living: Unhurried Living Resources

Prophetic Lament by Soong Chan Rah

From Worn Out to Refreshed: How to Escape the Weight of Hurry

Blog by Matt Fogle, Unhurried Living Associate

Have you ever woken up with a strange question on your mind? Just recently, I (Matt) woke up at two in the morning wondering, “Why did ancient Near Eastern fishermen have to dry out their nets?”

 

Perhaps you’re chuckling at that like I did. I tried going back to sleep, only to wake up again a half hour later with that same question on my mind.

 

For the record, I had never thought about this before. I had never heard anyone teach on it. I didn’t even know if fishermen actually did need to dry out their nets. But it turns out they do. So, I decided to ask perplexity.ai, which informed me of the following consequences if fishermen left their nets in the water all the time:

 

The nets would grow bacteria that would carry diseases.
The fibers that the nets were made from would start to fray and break.
The nets would become unbearably heavy.

 

As I spent time praying through all this, I was drawn back to Matthew 11:28-30 and Jesus’s invitation to rest:

 

“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.” (The Message)

 

Like me, are you in a season where you could use a real rest?

 

When I had that thought during the night and then prayed the next morning, it was obvious that the Spirit was grabbing my attention.  I need to dry out my nets.

 

If we don’t learn to dry our nets, our lack of rest will affect those around us. Hurry sickness is contagious. If we’re doing the work of God anxiously, our anxiety will spread to the people we’re serving. 

 

If we don’t learn to dry out our nets, our lives will become frayed and we will burn out. We all have limits. We need sleep. We must have margin. And this won’t happen without fierce intentionality and accountability.

 

If we don’t learn to dry out our nets, our souls will become waterlogged and all our work will be heavy. The joy and wonder of being co-laborers with God will be lost.

 

Take a few minutes and prayerfully journal through this one question:

 Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, what does it look like to get my nets out of the water in this season?

 

Remember, just as ancient fishermen knew the importance of drying their nets to prevent disease, maintain their equipment, and lighten their load, we too need to regularly “dry out.” This isn’t just about personal refreshment; it’s about being better equipped to serve others and live out our calling. To bear fruit that lasts we must learn to rest.

 

As leaders, we have the opportunity to model this “real rest” for others. By creating a culture that values rest and renewal, we can help those around us experience the “unforced rhythms of grace” that Jesus promises.

 

So today I encourage you to get your net out of the water. Find your drying spots. Allow Jesus to show you what real rest looks like. It’s in this place of rest that we often find ourselves most ready for the work God has for us.

UL #327: How to Recognize God's Voice (Tyler Staton)

 

Who is the Holy Spirit to you—an intimate friend or a mysterious stranger? In this episode, Alan Fadling speaks with Tyler Staton, lead pastor of Bridgetown Church and author of The Familiar Stranger, about rediscovering the Holy Spirit and stepping into a more experiential, Spirit-led life. Tyler shares practical insights and biblical metaphors that invite us into deeper intimacy with the Spirit and a greater awareness of His presence and power.

In this episode, you’ll hear about:

How the Holy Spirit is like a tabernacle, a river, and living water.
The dangers of over-intellectualizing or misusing the Spirit, with lessons from Nicodemus and Simon the Sorcerer.
The power of discernment as a gift of recognizing God’s voice amid the noise.
A practical, grounded approach to prophecy and speaking on behalf of God.

 

💡 Guest Bio: Tyler Staton is the lead pastor of Bridgetown Church in Portland, Oregon, and a passionate advocate for prayer and honest spiritual exploration. He’s the author of The Familiar Stranger as well as Praying Like Monks, Living Like Fools and Searching for Enough. Tyler lives with his wife, Kirsten, and their three sons, Hank, Simon, and Amos.

Tune in to explore how growing in intimacy with the Spirit can transform your faith and life.

 

Resources:

The Familiar Stranger by Tyler Staton
Tyler Staton website

Worship as a Refuge in a Noisy World

Blog by Alan Fadling

In my reading and research, I always appreciate when I find a warning about hurry from a previous generation. Consider these words that Elton Trueblood, a philosopher and spiritual writer in the twentieth century, wrote nearly ninety years ago:

 

"Our lives are, for the most part, full of noise and bustle and hurry, and it is certainly clear that our service of worship should be remarkable by contrast. The ‘snappy’ service in which ‘something is doing every moment’ is too much like the great noisy world outside.”*

 

Reading his reflections, I can’t help but think how much truer they feel today. Life has only grown noisier, more hurried, and more distracted. We live in a world of notifications and multitasking, a constant hum of productivity and entertainment. And, sadly, sometimes our worship gatherings echo that tendency rather than combat it.

 

Trueblood’s insight reminds us that the church doesn’t need to mirror the culture’s frenetic pace. Instead, our gatherings for worship can be a sanctuary for stillness, reflection, and renewal.

 

Worship as a Sacred Contrast 

Trueblood critiques the idea of a “snappy service,” where every moment is packed with activity and spectacle. Such a service, he argues, risks becoming indistinguishable from the rest of the busy, noisy world.

 

Instead, the church is called to offer something both deeper and slower—an encounter with the God who is among us. In this way worship becomes a countercultural act, a deliberate pause to seek God’s presence and realign our hearts to his purposes.

 

This resonates with me deeply. One of the reasons I love our worship service in the Anglican tradition is the way it gently invites us into rhythms of stillness and sacred space. There is space to hear scripture read aloud. There is space for quiet reflection. The goal of worship is not to give us yet another self-improvement task for our already too long to-do list. Instead, we are invited to seek God’s kingdom and his righteousness, trusting that the fruit of such a pursuit will overflow into every area of life.

 

Seeking First Things 

Jesus’s words in his Sermon on the Mount remind us of what matters most: “Seek first God’s kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well” (Matthew 6:33).

 

When we gather for worship, the focus is not mainly on practical takeaways to better manage our lives or solve our problems. While God’s wisdom does, of course, bear fruit in our lived experience day to day, the higher purpose of worship is to seek God himself. The focus of worship is God.

 

It’s a shift in priorities. We don’t gather to first ask “What can I get out of this?” but “How can I realign my life with God’s purposes?” The church is at its best when it helps form us spiritually, equipping us to live as disciples of Jesus in a noisy, chaotic world. It’s less about quick fixes and more about deep, transformative growth. We learn to live and work at the pace of Jesus.

 

Growth Beyond Measurement 

This kind of growth—seeking God’s kingdom first—is often not immediately tangible or measurable. Trueblood asks, “Will this have tangible results? More than can be measured … but not directly.”

 

Spiritual growth is not easy to assess by quantitative measures. Instead, it unfolds subtly over time. The fruit of a life centered on God’s kingdom shows up in patience, peace, humility, and love—qualities that transform how we live, work, and relate to others.

 

The unhurried rhythms of worship, prayer, and reflection invite us into this kind of slow, lasting transformation. Growth at the pace of grace, as I like to call it, is both freeing and deeply hopeful.

 

An Invitation to Rest 

If our lives are marked by noise, hurry, and busyness, how might that impact our experience of worship? What if our gatherings became spaces of rest and renewal rather than just another engagement in my already-too-busy week?

 

In a world that constantly pulls us to achieve and produce, the church reminds us of our truest identity: we are beloved children of God. Worship becomes not just a duty but a refuge, a place where we can rest in God’s presence and be reminded of what matters most.

 

As we embrace this vision for worship, we’re reminded that spiritual formation is not about keeping up with the demands of life but about slowing down enough to meet God in the midst of our life.

 

For Reflection:

How might your worship practices become a space for slowing down and reconnecting with God’s presence?
In what ways are you seeking God’s kingdom first in your life right now? What might need to shift?
How could your weekly rhythm include moments of stillness and sacred rest?

 

UL #326: Living into the Answers- Formational Power of Soulful Questions

 

key to spiritual growth isn’t rushing to answers but learning to ask deeper, slower, and more transformational questions? In this episode, we explore how formational questions can shape your journey with God. You’ll hear examples of questions that unlock insight, guidance on crafting your own soulful questions, and encouragement to hold these questions as prayers in your heart.

Be patient. Live the questions now. And trust that, in time, the answers will come.

Join Gem and Brenda as they reflect on the creativity, patience, and grace required to live the questions God places in our hearts.

 

Resources Mentioned:

“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.” Rainer Maria Rilke

How to Find Contentment Right Where You Are

Blog by Gem Fadling

 

As I was scrolling through my 2024 journal looking for inspiration on what I might share with you today, I realized that I'd been journaling about contentment for most of the year. Contentment has shown up in my praying and processing with God and in my conversations with my spiritual director, and it is an ongoing process that I am still working on.

 

Something within me is consistently not at ease with who I am, what I am, or where I am. If you're familiar with the Enneagram, you may know that Types One, Four, and Seven are in a triad called “The Frustrated Idealists.” Of course, each type has a different reason for being frustrated and a different view of what the ideal would be, but the term still applies to all three.

 

When I first heard the term Frustrated Idealist, I felt an internal yell: “That's me!” It described an undercurrent that I feel most of the time as it hums along just beneath the surface.

 

I appear to have an unspoken sensation that my situation should be different from what it is. Like antennae, my Frustrated Idealist is always reaching out for that unreachable thing that will propel me into satisfaction.

 

But the thing about the adage “The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence” is that there are always more fences and more yards to compare myself with.

 

As I perused through my journal, I noticed that my contentment processing has followed me all the way up to the present. And this is not the first year I've spent working on this dynamic within myself. But this past year I have made some significant movement forward. I consider this to be pure grace—a gift from God who is patient as he trains my heart toward the contentment I desire.

 

Today I'm going to share a little bit from insights I gained from Brian Zahnd’s book The Wood Between the Worlds.

 

In a chapter titled “One Ring to Rule Them All,” Zahnd talks about J. R. R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings and connects it to the power and control of the religious and political leaders at the time of the crucifixion. Ultimately, it is an invitation not to grasp for the one ring of power.

 

There were a few lines he shared from Tolkien’s book that pierced my heart. The ring of power shows up for me these days as a search to be more than I am, to be larger than the small, routine life I lead. Discontent certainly is the engine behind that reach.

 

The ring of power turned Saruman into a cruel monster. Gandalf and Galadriel knew this, and they chose not to touch it and become seduced by its whims. In Zahnd’s book he recounts these conversations. Here’s what they had to say:

 

Gandalf: 

“No!” cried Gandalf, springing to his feet. “With that power I should have power too great and terrible. And over me the ring would gain a power still greater and more deadly. … Do not tempt me! I dare not take it, not even to keep it safe, unused. The wish to wield it would be too great for my strength.”

 

Galadriel: 

“And now at last it comes. You will give me the ring freely! In place of the Dark Lord you will set up a queen. And I shall not be dark, but beautiful and terrible as the Morning and the Night! ... All shall love me and despair!”

 

She stood before Frodo seeming now tall beyond measurement, and beautiful beyond enduring, terrible and worshipful. Then she let her hand fall, and the light faded, and suddenly she laughed again, and lo! she was shrunken: a slender elf-woman, clad in simple white, whose gentle voice was soft and sad. “I pass the test,” she said. “I will diminish, and go into the west, and remain Galadriel.”

 

Gandalf and Galadriel remained pure by resisting the ring. They said no to it and therefore it had no power over them.

 

Samwise Gamgee, however, took another route (or was gifted this route from within). He was simply so content with his simple life that the ring inherently had no power over him. This is the posture I desire. I want to be so content that the temptation doesn’t even reach me.

 

Samwise:

In that hour of trial it was the love of his master that helped him most to hold him firm; but also deep down in him lived still unconquered his plain Hobbit-sense: he knew in the core of his heart that he was not large enough to bear such a burden, even if such visions were not a mere cheat to betray him. The one small garden of a free gardener was all his need and due, not a garden swollen to a realm; his own hands to use, not the hands of others to command.

 

Zahnd goes on to say, “That Samwise Gamgee was content with his garden and didn't lust after an empire is what saved him from the lure of the Ring, and it's what makes him the true hero of The Lord of the Rings.”

 

Samwise had the good sense to know that the battle over power wasn’t even his to try on. He was “not large enough to bear such a burden.” This is true of me as well. My one small garden of a life is enough. I don’t need “a garden swollen to a realm.”

 

We weren’t created to withstand the pressures of the planet. Even though we can see and know what’s happening worldwide, our souls and hearts cannot bear up under the weight.

 

Our invitation is to love our neighbor—the ones we can see and touch. Our bodies, minds, hearts, and souls can, in fact, care for those around us. Planet-wide care is not ours to bear.

 

So this is my prayer: God, may my heart become more humble and my mind put at ease. I need not grasp for power or prestige, fame or fortune, or anything larger than what and who you’ve made me. Power and fame are cruel masters that torment the mind and body. May I become more and more content with what I have and who I am. Thank you for your care and help.

 

For Reflection: 

What is it you are reaching for that moves you into discontent?
If you achieved the thing about which you are discontented, what value would it add to your life?
Bring your own heartfelt prayer to God, asking God to grant you contentment.

 

_________________________________

J. R. R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring, part 1 of The Lord of the Rings (Houghton Mifflin, 2002), 60.

Tolkien, Fellowship of the Ring, 368.

J. R. R. Tolkien, The Return of the King, part 3 of The Lord of the Rings (Houghton Mifflin, 2002), 911.

Brian Zahnd, The Wood Between the Worlds (InterVarsity Press, 2024), 96.

UL #325: What Does it Mean to Be Secure in God? (Michael John Cusick)

 

What does it mean to truly abide in God? How do we move beyond merely knowing about God to experiencing deep communion with Him? In this episode, I sit down with Michael John Cusick, author of Sacred Attachment, to explore the life-changing power of living in loving connection with God.

Michael, a licensed professional counselor, spiritual director, and founder of Restoring the Soul, shares how our core needs—being seen, soothed, safe, and secure—are met in Christ. We also discuss the barriers that prevent us from experiencing intimacy with God, from false beliefs to misguided attempts to ease our pain.

Together, we unpack practical insights like:

The difference between accurate knowledge about God and communing with Him.
Why our struggles often stem from mishandled pain.
How imagination can open the door to experiencing God more fully.
And how mysticism invites us to spiritual oneness with God.

Join us for a conversation that will deepen your understanding of God’s invitation to abide and inspire you to take your next step toward living in sacred attachment.

💡 Guest Bio: Michael John Cusick is the founder of Restoring the Soul, author of Surfing for God, and a trusted voice in the integration of faith and counseling. His work has been featured in Relevant, HuffPost, and Red-Letter Christians. He lives in Littleton, Colorado, with his wife, Julianne.

👉 Tune in and discover how to abide in God’s presence today.

 

 

At the Pace of Grace: There Are No Instant Saints

Blog by Alan Fadling

Welcome to a new year. It’s often a time when I make new intentions and revise my rhythms of life and work. What challenges are you finding in your own spiritual journey? Spiritual development just doesn’t happen fast, no matter what any online expert says.

 

Our journey toward spiritual maturity is rarely straightforward, and the culture we live in doesn’t make it any easier. We’re conditioned to crave quick fixes and instant results, but true growth—especially in our spiritual lives—is a slow and intentional process, much like the way things grow in creation.

 

In December each year, I spend time reflecting on spiritual growth in my own journey in preparation for this new year. I ask myself, “How is God inviting me to continue maturing as a follower of Jesus?”

 

Recently, I’ve been reading On Living Well, a collection of writings by Eugene Peterson. In it, Peterson shares this striking thought:

 

“Being human is not easy. Not at all easy. The seasons do not automatically develop us into maturity. Our instincts do not naturally guide us into a superior contentment. We falter and fail. We doubt and question. We work and learn. And just when we think we have it figured out, something else comes up that throws us for a loop.”*

 

I love the beautiful simplicity of Peterson’s insight. Spiritual growth has never happened on autopilot for me. Unlike a flower or a cat, which develop naturally according to their design, people don’t mature by default. Growing older doesn’t guarantee growing wiser or more Christlike. Real maturity requires intention, humility, and effort.

 

Growth at the Pace of Grace

 

In my book An Unhurried Life, I wrote a chapter titled “Maturity: Growing Up Takes Time.” In it, I quoted Brother Lawrence, who once observed of an overly enthusiastic sister, “She wants to advance faster than grace would allow. You don’t become a saint in a day!”†

 

Isn’t that the truth? In a world full of hacks, tricks, and shortcuts, we’re tempted to bring that same mindset to our spiritual lives. But there are no quick fixes for becoming more like Jesus. Real growth happens slowly—at the pace of grace. That’s good news! Unhurried growth is lasting growth.

 

The Bible invites us to grow, but it also reminds us that this growth is rooted in grace. Peter writes, “But grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. To him be glory both now and forever! Amen” (2 Peter 3:18).

 

Paul, too, urges Timothy, “Be strong in the grace that is in Christ Jesus” (2 Timothy 2:1).

 

Grace is the soil in which our spiritual lives grow. But what does it mean to “grow in grace”? What does it look like to become strong in the grace of Jesus?

 

Paul’s Journey of Grace

 

One of the most helpful glimpses of what it means to grow in grace comes from the life of Paul. We see in his letters a trajectory of maturity rooted in growing humility.

 

In one of his earlier letters, Paul writes to the Corinthians, “For I am the least of the apostles and do not even deserve to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God. But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace to me was not without effect” (1 Corinthians 15:9-10).

 

Paul acknowledges his past and recognizes that he owes everything to the generous grace of God. God’s grace is Paul’s identity. God’s grace is what empowers him. God’s grace is everything for him.

 

Later, in his letter to the Ephesians, Paul deepens his perspective: “Although I am less than the least of all the Lord’s people, this grace was given me: to preach to the Gentiles the boundless riches of Christ” (Ephesians 3:8).

 

Notice the shift? Paul’s sense of himself has become even more humble. He now considers himself less than even the least of all believers. It’s not that Paul is more of a nobody. It’s that his perspective is even more riveted to the generosity of God in his life. The trajectory continues in his first letter to Timothy, where he writes, “Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the worst” (1 Timothy 1:15).

 

From “least of the apostles” to “least of all believers” to “chief of sinners.” This isn’t false humility or self-loathing. It’s the perspective of someone who is growing in grace. The more Paul understood God’s love and holiness, the more he became aware of his own brokenness, his own shortcomings, his own need. And these are the places in our lives where God’s grace is drawn.

 

As we make our way into this new year, why not take a moment to reflect on the grace that meets you right where you are. Your own spiritual growth will not be about perfection or about how quickly you achieve certain milestones. It is about a loving journey with Jesus at a pace shaped by his love, wisdom, and grace. We can come to see our lives through the lens of grace, just like Paul did.

 

We can be honest about our need yet confident in God’s unrelenting generosity. So, let’s walk together into this season with open hands and open hearts, trusting that the One who began this good work in us will carry it to completion. May your growth this year be slow, steady, and rooted deeply in the soil of grace.

 

For Reflection:  

How do you sense God inviting you to embrace a slower, grace-filled pace of growth in this season?
Where in your life might you be trying to grow “faster than grace would allow”?
How might Paul’s journey of growing in grace encourage or challenge you today?

 

*Eugene Peterson, On Living Well (Waterbrook, 2021), 7.

† Quoted in Alan Fadling, An Unhurried Life, revised ed. (InterVarsity Press, 2020), 144.