When Gratitude Is a Battle
It’s easy to be thankful when all is right with our world. But what about when life takes a turn for the worse?
Citizen Writers Fighting Censorship by Helping Americans Understand Issues Affecting the Republic.
It’s easy to be thankful when all is right with our world. But what about when life takes a turn for the worse?
If my brain were a school bus, all the nerdy thoughts would be sitting up front. These are the responsible, grown-up thoughts, wearing horn-rimmed glasses and neckties, performing important tasks on calculators, computing existentially vital equations such as, “Do BLTs actually need the L?”
Jesus told us not to worry. Scripture tells us over and over again to “fear not.” Yet, so many professing Christians have become professional worriers.
In Galatians 4:4, the apostle Paul makes a profound statement: Jesus came at the exact moment God had determined in eternity past. This wasn’t arbitrary.
Once upon a time in the sun-drenched hills of southern France, a group of spiritual minimalists called the Cathars decided to challenge the Catholic Church.
One can no longer even walk through a public shopping mall without seeing what would have once been considered X-rated material, now proudly displayed as advertising and window dressing.
Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven… Then I will tell them plainly, ‘I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers!’ — Matthew 7:21, 23
Being a Christian isn’t just believing Jesus existed—it’s living like He was right. Which means you might have to forgive your enemies, tell the truth, shut up sometimes, or put the cart back at the grocery store.
It was raining when we saw the big cross. In the distance. We’d been told about the cross. We knew it was near. Everyone on the trail had been talking about it.
Humanity has been sorted out. God’s ancient people, the Hebrews who are still on earth are all His.
The first big difference I noticed in America was that we move very fast. Everything we do is fast. We want our food fast. We want our news fast. We drive fast. We pump gas fast. We stand before a microwave and shout, “HURRY UP!!!!”
We entered Santiago de Compostela at 2:11 p.m. On foot. We’d been hiking since sunup. Our pace was slow. Our clothes, threadbare. I was muttering the 23rd Psalm—a kind of private meditation on the trail.
Sean and his Bride have completed their epic trek. Stay tuned for more commentary after his legs get a rest.
Are our thoughts, words, and deeds acceptable in God’s eyes? Or do we speak one way in public and another way in private?
Some of the most powerful lessons we pilgrims have learned on this proverbial Chisholm Trail have not been about life, or the nature of the universe. Our lessons have been in relation to each other.
Here are a few random things I have written in my journal throughout my time walking the Camino de Santiago.
Sean is back on the Camino! Here is a short video from him. Please pray for him and his wife.
I am standing at a bus stop in the unrelenting rain. Although to call this a “bus stop” is being generous. It’s just a highway guardrail. I am alone on this empty highway, waiting to catch a ride out of O Cebreiro.
Somewhere in the distant mountains, my wife is hiking the Camino. I should be with her, but I am here with shin-splinted legs and swollen calves.
My taxi arrived at Ponferrada after a long, twisty, pleasant ride through the mountains. And by “pleasant” I mean that only one of three taxi passengers actually vomited. I paid our driver, then found a nearby bush where I could double over.