Alan Fadling's Blog, page 7

3 Invitations to a Deeper Connection with God

Blog by Gem Fadling

Many years ago, a friend of mine (Gem) was going through a very uncertain and difficult time. Life was pressing in and she was losing hope. As she shared her story with me, an image of a long, dark train tunnel emerged in my mind. In the distance was a pinhole of light.

 

I shared this image with her, and in that moment, it gave her hope in God. Even though the tunnel was long and dark, the light was a small ray of hope in an otherwise heavy time.

 

The truth of Psalm 27:1 came bursting forth from that tiny light: “The Lord is my light and my salvation—whom shall I fear?” That is the power of the reality of God’s love and care.

 

Many years later I briefly reconnected with my friend. I had long forgotten this conversation, but she reminded me and mentioned how much it meant to her. She still carried the memory of God meeting her in that tunnel and journeying with her along the way.

 

This is our God. And this is how I know a connection with the Holy Spirit was made: The sacred imprint lasted.

 

We may not know the whole path ahead, but God’s presence illuminates enough for us to take the next step in faith. It’s a comforting reminder that, while we may not have all the answers, God walks with us in the dark.

 

One of my favorite verses is 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.”

 

That pinhole of light in the tunnel is like the “one thing” the psalmist speaks of here. The tunnel’s darkness blocks out…and guides our view in a single important direction. The darkness blocks out all other situations and distractions and guides our view in one important direction.

 

I still remember the first time I read that verse and was struck by the singular focus of God only. This is such a welcome example and invitation when I am so often distracted.

 

I also think it’s a bit funny when David says “one thing I ask” and then goes on to list three things. Though I suppose they do combine into one thought, as tucked inside one thing are some really important verbs: dwell, gaze, and seek.

 

Let’s spend some time with each of these invitations.

 

DWELL

Psalm 139:7-10 says:

 7 Where can I go from your Spirit?

Where can I flee from your presence?

8  If I go up to the heavens, you are there;

if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.

9  If I rise on the wings of the dawn,

if I settle on the far side of the sea,

10  even there your hand will guide me,

your right hand will hold me fast.

 

Dwelling isn’t so much a choice as it is a realizing and remembering my location. Like a fish dwells in water, we dwell in God. There is no place we can go that is separate from God. God is not elsewhere.

 

The dictionary definition of the verb dwell is “to live as a resident.” So dwelling in God means we are making our home in him. Even just a few moments of remembering this reality can bring a bit of peace to an otherwise stressful day.

 

Acts 17:28 says, “In him we live and move and have our being.”  You live in God. And even more amazingly, God lives in you.

 

What would it look like to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of your life? Ponder this and see what ideas emerge.

 

GAZE

Marina Abramović is a Serbian artist whose living art piece, The Artist Is Present, deeply affected me many years ago.

 

The following description is from the Museum of Modern Art website:

“Day after day, Marina Abramović sat motionless for eight hours in the Museum’s central atrium as members of the public took turns sitting across from her and gazing silently into her eyes. Could a simpler performance be imagined? It entailed nothing other than the artist’s presence, without action or words—and yet it was nothing short of a spectacle. Visitors laughed, cried, and attested to spiritual experiences. Thousands waited in line for their moment with Abramović, and thousands more watched the live stream online. The most mundane act of human contact had been turned, as if by magic, into an irresistible catalyst for emotion.”

 

You can see the power of Marina’s gaze in this brief clip.

 

Gazing is a lost art because it relies on a quietness of spirit and a determination to sink into an unhurried moment. Like a sharp knife, the act of gazing can penetrate into the heart of a person. No words are needed. The loving, present gaze is enough.

 

What would it look like to pause for a moment and “gaze upon the beauty of the Lord”? What might emerge from such an encounter? Try it and see…

 

SEEK

When I think of the word seek, the childhood game of hide and seek immediately jumps to mind. I picture the expectancy and joy of a little one seeking her parent as she races through the house or around the back yard.

 

It can be easy to think of seeking as some kind of assignment or drudgery. It takes energy to go on a search, to intentionally try to find something or someone. But inviting the vitality of delight into your search just might change everything.

 

What would it look like to seek God in his temple? How might a childlike inner stance help guide you into this seeking?

 

Dwell, gaze, and seek all combine into the one thing our true self desires most—God himself. When might you give yourself the gift of a little time spent experimenting with this one, most important invitation?

 

For Reflection: 

What would it look like to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of your life? Ponder this and see what ideas emerge.
What would it look like to pause for a moment and “gaze upon the beauty of the Lord”? What might emerge from such an encounter? Try it and see…
What would it look like to seek God in his temple? How might a childlike inner stance help guide you in this seeking?

UL #341: What Does It Really Mean to “Go Deeper” in Faith?

 

Have you ever stood at the edge of the ocean and been struck by its vastness—its depth? That sense of something greater calling to us? Today, Alan Fadling invites us into a reflection on the spiritual hunger so many of us carry: a longing not just to know about God, but to be deeply rooted in God.

In this episode, Alan explores what it means to cultivate a life of soul-depth, spiritual depth, and heart depth. Drawing from his book An Unhurried Life, the writings of J.I. Packer and Hans Urs von Balthasar, and his own pastoral journey, Alan encourages us to move beyond surface-level faith toward a life shaped by love, receptivity, and transformation.

📖 Topics we’ll explore:

Why knowing about God isn’t the same as being deeply formed by God

The difference between wide spiritual knowledge and rooted spiritual maturity

How slowing down can open us to a more contemplative, relational depth with God

 

This is a conversation for anyone who feels the ache of a shallow faith and longs for something more enduring, more transformative, and more deeply connected.

 

🎧 Mentioned in this episode:

An Unhurried Life (Revised Audiobook, narrated by Alan)

Prayer by Hans Urs von Balthasar

Living as God’s Beloved, Not a Programmed Machine

Blog by Alan Fadling

One of the most powerful truths we can embrace is this: We are not machines—we are God’s beloved children. Our culture tells us that our worth is measured by our output, but God’s economy is different. His love for us is not transactional. It’s based not on what we accomplish but on who we are.

 

Love Over Labor

If we see ourselves as machines, we may believe we must earn love through productivity. But Scripture reminds us that God loved us before we did anything for him. We are made to abide in that love, not to strive endlessly for approval. We work from love rather than for love.

 

When Paul wrote to the church in Corinth, he reminded them that while we may plant and water, it is God who makes things grow (1 Cor. 3:5-9). We are invited to participate in God’s work, but we are not ultimately responsible for making things happen. That’s God’s job. And he’s very good at what he does!

 

Rest as an Act of Trust

 Sometimes we’re tempted to treat rest like a luxury. But it isn’t. It is an act of faith. When we step away from work, we acknowledge that the world doesn’t revolve around our efforts. It keeps turning because God sustains it—even when we are resting. Choosing to rest is choosing to trust that God’s provision is enough.

 

Jesus modeled this rhythm in his own life. He worked, but he also withdrew. He served, but he also rested. If the Son of God saw rest as essential, why do we so often resist it?

 

A Life of Grace and Growth

 What would it look like for you to live as God’s beloved rather than a machine driven by the need to produce? It might mean:

 

Beginning your day by remembering you are already loved before doing anything.
Letting go of the need to measure your worth by what you accomplish.
Practicing rest not as an afterthought but as a core part of your life.

 

You are not a machine. You are a deeply loved child of God. When you live from that truth, you experience life as it was meant to be—abundant, free, and deeply rooted in God’s grace.

 

For Reflection:

In what ways have you let your worth become tied to your productivity?
In one practical way, how might resting become an act of trust in God?
What would change if you truly believed you are already loved?

UL #340: Willpower Isn't Enough with Ian Morgan Cron

 

Have you ever found yourself grasping for a quick fix—work, food, social media, or endless productivity—to ease the discomfort of life? What if true healing and freedom don't come from trying harder, but from surrendering more deeply?

In this episode of the Unhurried Living Podcast, host Gem Fadling sits down with Ian Morgan Cron—bestselling author, psychotherapist, Enneagram teacher, and Episcopal priest—to talk about his new book, The Fix. This fresh and deeply personal exploration of the Twelve Steps goes far beyond addiction recovery. It's an invitation for all of us to embrace a more honest, grace-filled, and spiritually awake life.

Whether you’re feeling stuck, tired of surface-level fixes, or longing for true transformation, this conversation will meet you right where you are—and gently invite you to something deeper.

🌿 Key Topics Include:

Uncovering our hidden addictions and coping mechanisms

Why surrender—not willpower—is the true beginning of change

The wisdom and grace of the Twelve Steps

How shame gets in the way of healing, and how grace restores

Building spiritual "muscle memory" through daily practices

A path to healing that integrates therapy, spirituality, and real-life transformation

🎧 Listen in for a conversation that might just be the invitation your soul has been waiting for.

 

Guest Bio:  Ian Morgan Cron is a bestselling author, psychotherapist, Enneagram teacher, and Episcopal priest. He’s widely known for his work integrating psychology and spirituality, especially through the lens of the Enneagram. Ian is the author of The Road Back to You and his latest book, The Fix, offers a transformative look at the Twelve Steps as a spiritual path for everyone. With warmth, humor, and vulnerability, Ian invites readers and listeners alike to a life of deeper honesty, healing, and grace.

How to Express Your True Voice

Blog by Gem Fadling

When I was in my twenties, working in the corporate world, I once took a Social Styles test that was supposed to help me better understand myself and my work relationships.

 

This test categorizes a person as Analytical, Expressive, Amiable, or Driver according to where they fall on a scale of being less or more assertive and either more task-oriented or more people-oriented. The results are based not on feelings but on actions and how others perceive you. In fact, part of the test involves your coworkers also taking a test on how they view you.

 

I was under 25 at the time, so I wasn’t even fully baked yet as a human. All my flaws were in high command, to say the least, and I did not have full use of my own voice or my agency in the world.

 

When my test results came back I was categorized as Amiable. This meant I was more people-oriented and less assertive. At face value, there’s no problem there. There was no “right” or “best” type; it was simply information. But I distinctly remember feeling upset with that word amiable. I wanted to be labeled Expressive because it sounded much more interesting.

 

To me, being called amiable was the same as being labeled a doormat. Sure, whatever you want. No worries, I can handle it. I’ll just adjust to whatever comes up. Again, there is nothing wrong with being compliant and friendly; it’s just that for me at that time, these sentiments highlighted my perceived lack of spine. Remember, I was in my twenties, so even my analysis of myself had its own shortcomings.

 

This amiable tendency followed me further into adulthood and showed up in various ways over the years, until I finally awoke to the unhealthy version of this dynamic during midlife. I began to equate my less-assertive ways with a lack of a strong and healthy inner and outer voice.

 

There were at least three ways I exhibited this lack of voice:

 

I apologized for taking up space.

 

When I was part of the leadership team of another nonprofit, I had the honor of opening some of our training sessions with a spiritual practice. I distinctly remember feeling rushed inside. There was a sense in which I believed my part of the meeting had lower priority. I felt the need to hurry up and get through my part so the important things could begin. No one made me feel this way. It was simply an interior dynamic that I noticed. In a way, I was apologizing for taking up space. I’m so sorry, I’ll be out of your way in a minute. I’ll just hurry up and finish here so we can get to the good stuff.

 

I rarely said “I.”

 

For my entire first half of life, I rarely said “I.” I mostly said “we.” The we being Alan and me. I met Alan when I was 17, began dating him at 19, and was married at 21. We grew up together and had a very strong connection. There’s nothing wrong with having a good marriage and a vital friendship, but we both were lacking a healthy version of self. And so I said “we” whenever I was sharing a story, especially one about my past. Yes, most things happened to both of us together, but each story also has a version that happened to just me. At the time I was unaware or unable to differentiate that.

 

I couldn’t say “I deserve…”

 

This one is the most embarrassing. During a memorable therapy appointment, my therapist and I stumbled upon this dynamic—I couldn’t say “I deserve...” My description of this was so noticeable that we paused and my therapist walked me through a very specific list in which every sentence began with those two words: “I deserve…” As we went down the list, I said no to every single one. Most disturbing was when we came to the final statement: “I deserve to be loved.”

 

This was a tremendous wake-up call. It’s one thing to be humble, but not having enough sense of self that I could believe the idea that I deserve to be loved was so sad.

 

There were many reasons I ended up with that mindset, but one of the most insidious ones came from my own faith journey. I somehow believed in “worm theology.” That is, I was so sinful and bad, and there was nothing good in my heart, so I must be undeserving. What other reason could there be for needing grace? Eventually, I would come to see how this is a twisted version of God’s goodness and mercy. But there I was, unable to accept that I deserved anything.

 

God’s Healing Grace

 Thanks to the consistent and loving transformational presence of God, as well as many years working with a skilled therapist, I did find my agency and voice, and now I know how to tell a story using the word I. I also have a healthy sense of self in Christ and a greater understanding of what I do and do not deserve.

 

There were many reasons why I did not have a strong voice for many years, including enmeshment, self-doubt, insecurity, and anxiety. God has been very gracious to grow me up into the truer version of who he made me to be, and I am so grateful.

 

Why is it important to have a strong and healthy sense of self and of one’s own voice? Because this is evidence that our true self is sitting at the head of the table. We don’t need a young, traumatized, unhealthy version of ourselves running the show.

 

We aren’t trying to be more than we are, we are simply working to be all that we are. As the old saying goes, “God don’t make no junk.”

 

I share this story with the hope that you will see yourself somewhere in it. Maybe you have had a similar journey in connecting with your truest self, or maybe you are in the middle of the path. Either way, I hope you will take heart and continue on, with Jesus accompanying you along the way.

 

No matter where you are in your own initiative, here are three ideas to help you continue on your way:

 

Reflect on your unique story.

 Ask yourself, What moments in my life have deeply shaped my perspective? Where have I learned compassion, resilience, or courage? By recognizing the power in your journey, you’ll begin to honor your voice as something of value to share with others.

 

Identify what stirs your heart.

 Your voice often emerges most authentically when you speak from what genuinely moves you. Pay attention to what lights you up or where you find yourself feeling a strong urge to make a difference. This doesn’t need to be grand or world-changing. It could be as simple as a passion for kindness, a longing for justice, or a desire to create peace. As you lean into these areas, you might find the threads of your voice woven with purpose and direction.

 

Begin small and speak gently but boldly.

 Practice using your voice in safe and supportive relationships. This might be through conversations with a trusted friend or spiritual director, journaling, or prayer. Speak even if it feels small or vulnerable at first. Your voice doesn’t have to be loud to make an impact. What matters is that it’s true to you. Each time you share, you’re building confidence and clarity in expressing what’s on your heart.

 

Let these steps unfold gently, knowing that your voice will strengthen and become a gift not just for you but for those who need to hear it.

UL 339: When God Feels Distant: Expectations, Disappointment, and Hope (Steve Cuss)

 

Have you ever felt the ache of unmet expectations in your relationship with God? Does the faith you imagined seem different from the reality you’re living? In this episode, I sit down with Steve Cuss, author of The Expectation Gap, to explore the space between what we believe about God and how we experience Him in our everyday lives. Steve invites us to dive into the gaps that often hold our assumptions, fears, and doubts—and shows us how transformation can happen right there.

Through our conversation, we will learn:

How to identify the stories we tell ourselves about God and why they matter.
Practical ways to shift our perspective and experience greater freedom, trust, and intimacy with God.
The three common gaps that can create frustration in our faith journey: God’s particular love, God’s visceral presence, and our spiritual progress.
Insights from systems theory that can help us navigate the complexities of faith and leadership.
Simple, yet powerful practices like reflection and adding ourselves to our conscious list of relationships to foster growth and wholeness.

If you’re wrestling with disappointment, control, or longing for a deeper connection with God, this episode is for you.

Steve, a pastor, author, and sought-after speaker, also shares insights from his book Managing Leadership Anxiety and how systems theory has shaped his approach to faith and leadership.

Join us as we unpack practical tools and meaningful shifts to help you navigate the complexities of faith and deepen your walk with God.

Don’t forget to subscribe and share this podcast with your friends and colleagues!

About Steve Cuss:

Steve Cuss is a pastor, author, and speaker who is passionate about helping people navigate the complexities of faith, leadership, and relationships. He is the author of The Expectation Gap and Managing Leadership Anxiety: Yours and Theirs. Steve is known for his practical approach to faith and leadership, using tools from systems theory to guide individuals and organizations toward greater health and transformation.

The Gift of Seasons and Rhythms

Blog by Alan Fadling

Trees don’t produce fruit year-round, do they? They follow rhythms—seasons of growth, rest, fruitfulness, and renewal. Jesus used this imagery when he called himself the true vine and us the branches. He invites us not to strive endlessly but to abide—to stay rooted in him and trust the natural rhythms God has designed.

 

Living as a Tree, Not a Machine

 Unlike circuits that are wired for constant performance, we are created to flourish in cycles and seasons. We don’t operate best under nonstop pressure; we thrive when we work in alignment with the rhythms God has set. There are times of productivity and times of dormancy. There are seasons of fruitfulness and seasons of preparation. There are times for work and times for rest. All of this is the gift of God.

 

Ignoring these rhythms leads to exhaustion. But honoring them brings freedom. Just as a tree doesn’t panic when winter comes, we can learn to trust the times when we are called to slow down. True fruitfulness isn’t about constant production—it’s about growth that is healthy and sustainable. Fruit that lasts is measured in the long-term.

 

Recalibrating for Health, Not Just Efficiency

 The world values speed and efficiency, but God values depth, wholeness, and health. If we want to bear good fruit in our lives and work, we need to prioritize practices that nourish us. Jesus came that we might live life abundantly. He grieves when we try to live at a frantic, unsustainable pace.

 

So, what does it look like to recalibrate? It might mean:

 

Setting boundaries around work and rest.
Embracing Sabbath as a weekly rhythm of renewal.
Listening to your body and soul when they signal exhaustion.
Trusting that productivity flourishes in healthy habits, not in more and more work.

 

The Invitation to Flourish

 We are called to be fruitful, not just busy. When we learn to embrace the seasons God gives us, we can move from constant striving to a life that is rooted, steady, and full of peace. How might you begin to align your life with the rhythms God has designed?

 

For Reflection:

What season of life do you find yourself in right now?
Where have you been resisting God-given rhythms of work and rest?
What is one small way you can embrace sustainable fruitfulness?

 

UL 338: Untangling Your Emotions: A Gentle 3-Step Path from Overwhelm to Freedom (Alison Cook)

 

In this episode, Gem talks with Dr. Alison Cook, a renowned expert at the intersection of faith and psychology, to discuss her groundbreaking 3-step process for finding the freedom we crave. Many of us struggle with complex emotions and feelings that seem impossible to untangle. Instead of addressing these emotions with care, we often fall into the trap of guilt-tripping or gaslighting ourselves. Dr. Cook shares a powerful approach to breaking this cycle—offering practical tools and insight for embracing your emotions and moving toward healing. Together, we explore the importance of self-awareness, how to stop dismissing your feelings, and the transformative process of naming, framing, and braving your emotions.

In this episode, you’ll learn:

How to Stop Gaslighting Yourself – Learn why so many of us dismiss our own feelings and how to move past the cycle of self-doubt.

The Power of the 3-Step Process: Naming, Framing, Braving – Discover Dr. Cook’s transformative approach to understanding and healing complex emotions.

Creating Space for Healing – Understand the importance of slowing down, reflecting, and embracing both/and thinking to move forward with clarity and courage.

Guest Bio:

Dr. Alison Cook is a trusted psychologist, author, and speaker known for her expertise in integrating faith and psychology. Her latest book, I Shouldn’t Feel This Way, offers a compassionate and practical framework for navigating complex emotions. With years of experience helping individuals discover emotional freedom, Dr. Cook is a sought-after guide for those looking to understand and heal from within.

The Transformative Power of Lament

Blog by Gem Fadling

I am in the stage of life when many of my friends are in the “sandwich generation.” These are people who give care to their children and to their aging parents at the same time. While it can be a time of great joy, it can also carry with it an exhaustion from the number of relational dynamics at play on any given day.

 

Alan and I are not sharing in this season with our peers for two reasons: (1) Alan’s parents are thriving and actually are more physically fit than us, and (2) my parents both passed when I was quite young. So I’ve already been through the traumatic deaths of both my dad and my mom.

 

I was only 26 when my dad was diagnosed with cancer of the spine. From the time of his diagnosis to his passing was only six months. My dad and I had a special bond. He was an older dad and was 52 when I was born, but I never felt that. He was the one who taught me how to do cartwheels, crafted at least three tree swings in our yard, and built multiple house additions while holding down a full-time job.

 

My dad singlehandedly cared for our small, six-acre homestead in rural Washington. Yes, I helped him garden, but only the kind of help an elementary-aged child can offer. I would accompany him on his fishing adventures in the local river and rode along to the dump in an old jalopy truck he purchased, much to my mom’s chagrin. I have more memories than I can share here.

 

So when Dad passed, it was a great loss to my heart and soul. For almost a year, I had nightmares about how frail he looked during his end days. It was in my nighttime dream life that I would process his death. One time, in the middle of the night, I awoke screaming from a frightening dream. Alan leapt up and turned on the lights. I was crying and trying to describe the terrifying imagery.

 

As he comforted me, in typical Alan form, he turned to the scriptures, found Psalm 116, and began to read it aloud over me:

 

3  The cords of death entangled me,
    the anguish of the grave came over me;
    I was overcome by distress and sorrow.
4 Then I called on the name of the Lord:
    “Lord, save me!”

5  The Lord is gracious and righteous;
    our God is full of compassion.
6 The Lord protects the unwary;
    when I was brought low, he saved me.

7  Return to your rest, my soul,
    for the Lord has been good to you.

 

At age 27, this was my first real encounter with lament.

 

Have you ever found yourself in a place so deep and dark that you wondered if God could hear you? Maybe it was a season of loss, an unexpected failure, or a quiet despair that only grew as time passed. Psalm 116 begins with words like cords of death, anguish, overcome, distress, and sorrow. The situation is dire.

 

It’s easy to think that we need to hold everything together, but when we open to the practice of lament, we might find ourselves opening more fully to God’s love and care.

 

Psalm 116 gave voice to what I was feeling at the time but didn’t know how to express. I could only groan in sadness. I just kept saying, “I don’t want to see my dad like this anymore!”

 

In times of lament, we often feel like we’re sitting in the dark, waiting for some hint of light to break through. But in this waiting, we open to God’s presence in new ways. I have to admit, my memory of that night is patchy. I don’t remember how long I was awake or how long I cried. I’m not sure how many times Alan read the psalm, but gradually it began to soothe my soul. At some point, Alan’s prayers and my crying had the desired effect so that I was able to return to sleep and carry on the next day.

 

My dreams began to morph over time, and within about a year, my dad was showing up in my dreams just like he was in his prime. He was wearing his 1970s green plaid suit with his fedora hat cocked to the side just so. My heart, soul, and body had spent a year processing his death, and I was now able to remember him as he was.

 

I’m sure many of you have endured or are enduring great loss. I offer a few ideas as you move through your grieving process.

 

Allow Space for Honest Lament

 Grief needs room to breathe. It has its own timetable. Don’t try to rush it or push through it. Allow grief to move with you at its own pace. The Psalms show that raw honesty with God and yourself can be profoundly healing.

 

You might begin by setting aside intentional time to name your loss. Write or speak aloud any feelings that arise, even if they’re painful, confusing, or angry. This kind of honesty can help you feel more connected to what you’re experiencing without needing to rush through it or deny it.

 

Seek Out Comforting Presence

 Grief is often best processed in the company of others. Just as Alan accompanied me, it’s important to reach out to people who can listen without judgment—whether friends, family, or a spiritual director, pastor, or therapist. Another person’s presence can provide a sense of grounding and comfort. Support groups can also offer a community of understanding, reminding you that you’re not alone in what you feel.

 

Embrace Simple, Restorative Practices

 In grief, taking care of your physical and emotional needs is a form of self-compassion. Engage in gentle practices that allow you to express and hold your grief in a manageable way. This could be as simple as journaling, engaging in creative expressions like drawing or music, or spending time in nature. Embodied practices like taking short walks, deep breathing, or even lighting a candle can serve as small yet meaningful ways to honor your grief and remind yourself of life’s ongoing rhythms.

 

I do pray that you will sense God’s presence with you in your time of grief. And if you aren’t currently processing a time like this, I hope you will share this post with a friend or loved one who might find it helpful. You can be a light who stands with them in the darkness.

 

For Reflection:

 As you think about this practice of lament, consider these questions as a way to deepen your own reflection:

 

How do I typically handle grief or disappointment? Do I allow myself to be honest with God and others, or do I tend to hold back?

 

How is God inviting me to express myself in his presence? Take a few moments to be still and notice any areas in your life where God might want to meet with you in grief.

 

How might lament open new pathways for connection and compassion in your life and leadership? Consider how embracing lament in your own life could make you a more compassionate and understanding leader for those around you.

 

Remember this from Psalm 116:

 

5  The Lord is gracious and righteous;
    our God is full of compassion.
6 The Lord protects the unwary;
    when I was brought low, he saved me.

7  Return to your rest, my soul,
    for the Lord has been good to you.

 

May you find rest for your soul…in God.

UL 337: Stop Worrying About the Future

 

Anxiety has a way of driving us—pushing us into constant busyness and keeping us stuck in worry about the future. But living in a non-anxious way isn’t about ignoring our problems—it’s about trusting a deeper reality that surrounds us.

In this episode, we reflect on the journey with anxiety and how Jesus' words in Matthew 6 continue to shape our understanding of peace. Together, we’ll explore:

🌱 The difference between wise preparation and anxious striving
🌱 How to break free from worry about tomorrow and stay present today
🌱 What it truly means to seek first God’s kingdom and righteousness

If you’ve ever found yourself caught in cycles of worry, this episode is for you. Jesus is not laying down the law about your anxiety—He’s inviting you into the peace of His presence.