“Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, treat each other with humility and honor.” – Philippians 2:5

Something was growing in my body that did not belong there. Not only that, but it could spread, and eventually could kill me. It was the dreaded “C” word, the one that had claimed my mother and my friends, Marilyn, Susan, and Jane – among others.

My prognosis was good; surgical removal of my reproductive organs and associated lymph nodes should completely take care of it. That was good news, but I mourned the loss of the parts of my body that helped define me as female, wife, and mother.

I experienced Philippians 2:5 as I approached family friends and co-workers with my diagnosis. I was treated with humility and honor as others shared their, often similar, experiences. My sons and their families all came to visit on Christmas before the surgery. Members of St. Paul’s created a prayer quilt and prayers for my recovery were tied into the quilt. Medical professionals helped me understand the various options that were available and listened to my concerns and fears.

At the hospital, while waiting for my surgery, I sat with my prayer quilt and several of the medical workers stopped to ask about it and to wish me well. As I waited for the appointed time, I was apprehensive but calm. I could feel the prayers surrounding me and upholding me. All was well with my soul.

After the successful surgery, friends and coworkers continued to provide prayers and support with food, texts, cards, and messages. The community lived out the mind of Christ in treating me, and one another, with humility and honor.

Dear God, help us to have the mind of Christ and to treat one another with humility and honor. Bless all those who are ill and be with their families and caregivers. Give us grateful hearts, for we pray in your most holy name. Amen.
-Cathey Frederick

“…at the name of Jesus every knee should bow…” – Philippians 2:10b

Every morning, and again every evening, I genuflect at the foot of my bed, saying the simple prayer, “Bless us, Lord, this day we pray/Bless us, Lord, this night we pray.” I have been doing this since I was a young girl. It reminds me, the first thing each morning and the last thing each night, to bend my knee in adoration and confession and thankfulness and supplication in Jesus’ name.

And here, today! The Prince of Peace rides in again into our hearts and our lives, atop a donkey. If I were to line that palm-strewn path, my eyes moist and hands uplifted, I would sink to my knees at the sight of Him. “Hosanna!” I would cry out in the humid air, my robe puddled at my bare feet, my tongue parched.

Picturing history is easy; I’m a historical novelist. But my books are filled primarily with fictional characters who live and laugh and love and lose, a mirror of readers’ lives. Placing ourselves in history is different, and radically intimate. Today, I see Him, I hear Him, I reach out to Him, reflecting on His Holiness as He rides toward His death for you and me.

Dear Lord, I bend my knee to you today and every day. Amen.
-Ashley Sweeney

“I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his sufferings by becoming like him in his death…” – Philippians 3:10

Many travels have led to this town, to this road; rough, steep, all uphill. Arrogance, stiff necks, ignorance have brought this about. People line the road crying, laughing. Why are they milling around? What have they come to see? Wild eyes look expectantly, then turn away. The human river pulses as it stares. Horror truly is fascinating. Could they walk this road? Can I? I press on.

Clamoring voices, strident demands, churning fears swirl by their own energy, going nowhere. Arguments are countered, fists are held higher and higher, faces contort into ugliness, molded by hate and fear. But still, I press on, dragging a burden forced on me, but shouldered by my own will. No matter the lies, the temptations, the derision, I press on. This is too hard a thing to do! This is too great a thing not to do. And so I press on. Surely, there will never be another time when one person sacrifices another for their own sake! So I press on. The noise of the crowd fades. Tears and blood blind my sight, the burden crushes me and I fall. A face, a cloth, the tears of another offered to me, so I can press on. Sound diminishes, feeling is numbed, spirit surrenders utterly to final blows. I am lifted, and all is dark.

Resting peacefully in the arms of the One, all fear and pain subside. There are no sounds now but that of gentle breaths, no motion but the heart softly beating.

Blessed One, “help me press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus.” Amen.
-Carol Treston

“…this one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus.” – Philippians 3:13b-14

Every now and then, there’s that unhappy 3 a.m. awakening with my mind spinning over past occasions in my life where I was rude, or cruel, or insensitive, or thoughtless, and there’s nothing I can do to fix it now: recipients of my worst self’s thoughts and behaviors are not available for my apologies, confession, correcting, reconciliation.

So, what can I do at 3 a.m.? I think my choices are limited. But I can confess my failures to God. I can ask for forgiveness. That’s a start. And if I print out this excerpt from Philippians and tuck it near my pillow, I can practice “forgetting what lies behind” and press on toward the goal, trusting God (see above). In the morning all things can be new.

Dear Lord, help us to press on, despite our past shortcomings, as we are moving toward the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus. Amen.
-Tom Worrell