For most of my life, Easter has been loud. Growing up in church, Easter is like New Year’s Day for Christians. I have many fond memories of these times, and I think there is appropriateness to them. But as I read the Resurrection Sunday texts of Scripture, I cannot help but notice the absence of this loudness I have associated with it and come to expect.

‍In the Christian life, there are seasons where faith feels steady. There are also seasons where you realize that trust doesn’t come automatically. In some seasons, weights don’t ease overnight, and hard questions don’t resolve easily.

For every duty I do not face reflects an inner, hollow space. The unfinished becomes a thread unraveling the life I’ve led.

Recently, I have been looking at the book of John. These verses are uniquely fitting for my current situation.

Sometimes it's not anyone's fault. Sometimes suffering just IS. It exists and it's uncomfortable and, often, unimaginably difficult. But it is never, ever purposeless.

There is a lot of discussion these days about “biblical manhood.” However, the discussion seems to focus more on behavior and less on character. In this piece, I want to focus on character.

It is early morning, in fact, and my house is quiet. In this space, I am hoping to quiet my soul, too, hopefully long enough to reflect on Holy Saturday with you.

At the time of my last post, I was remarking on a mixture of joys and sorrows that had accompanied a season of change. Eleven months later, I am doing much of the same, but in a more significant way.

Let’s pick up where I left off in early April.

About two months ago, I quietly completed my final Sunday on staff at Grace Family Church after nearly nine years.

My wedding was supposed to be today — Saturday, September 4, 2021.