“Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? As it is written, ‘For your sake we are being killed all day long; we are accounted as sheep to be slaughtered.’ No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” -Romans 8:35-39

I don’t feel much like a conqueror. I feel lucky if I’ve made it through the day without killing myself or someone else. I realize the Bible tells us nothing can separate us from the love of God, or the love of Christ, and I guess it’s true – or they wouldn’t have said it. Still, I know myself well enough I have to at least stop and ask the question: Is it true? Is it really true? And if it is, what should I do?

My go-to answer is simply this. I shall arise each morning and thank God for a new day. I shall do what needs doing throughout the day to the best of my ability, and when the day is done, I shall go to bed thanking God for the day now ended. I think if I focus more on giving thanks as the parentheses that encapsulate each day, God will take these virtual grammatical marks (…) and convert them into genuine hugs. That which God embraces will NOT come unhugged by any force we will ever face – and for that, I give thanks.

God, I know within my head that your love passes all understanding, and I know that whatever I may do or fail to do will not cause you to drop me like a hot rock from your cupped hands. You hold me tight. You always have and you always will. We have your word on it, and that’s really all we need. Thank you. Amen.
-Keith Axberg

“For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”
-John 3:16-17

The Gospel of John, verses 16-17 are well-known in the New Testament.

For Christian believers, this scripture brings joy and peace for we know there is something better to look forward to when we cease to exist on this earth.

For the nonbeliever, you live this life, and when you die, that is all there is.

Other religions believe you have to strive to be perfect in order to be acceptable to God.

In the Old Testament, the Jews sacrificed animals to have their sins covered (not forgiven) by the blood of animals.

Jesus Christ sacrificed Himself on the cross that when we sin, God the Father only sees the blood sacrifice of His son Jesus Christ which makes us acceptable to Him.

Our sins are forgiven, not covered.

John 3:16-17 does not teach “universalism”: that all people will be saved.

Thank you, Father, for sending your son to die on the Cross so that we might live eternally with you. Amen.
-Bob Johnson

My earliest childhood memories do not include having a father. My parents divorced when I was a baby, and I’ve often said that if I ran into my biological father on the street, I wouldn’t know him. Sadly, he wouldn’t know me either. As a father myself, I find this a disorienting concept — as though you are forever disassociated from some part of yourself.

I believe that as a child, that sense of disassociation was at the core of my anxieties. I do know that throughout my life the feeling of abandonment has loomed large — even when surrounded by people who love me. It wasn’t until I became a parent, however, that I really ran up against the barrier that chronic anxiety can place in the way of the joy we should all feel as the creations of a loving God. Just as any disability teaches us coping skills, mine were typically expressed as brazen self-confidence and extroversion. That’s more than just an imminent front, as I’m a pretty optimistic person by nature, but anxiety still rears its ugly head, and I sometimes find it hard to summon the energy to push back on it.

What becoming a Christian has done for how I cope with anxiety has been to remind me that there is a difference between walking a tightrope 30 feet above the ground with no net, and knowing that should you fall there will always be something to catch you. That something is God’s love, as revealed by Jesus. The ever-present proof of God’s love in the world takes a lot of pressure off me and my ego.

Lord, thank you for your love, and for being the net we can fall into when our fears and anxieties disrupt our balance. Your grace is proof that although we can never be assured we will not suffer, we know we will never be abandoned. Amen.
-Michael Boss

“For the mountains may depart and the hills be removed, but my steadfast love shall not depart from you, and my covenant of peace shall not be removed, says the Lord, who has compassion on you.” -Isaiah 54:10

Almost 40 years ago, an earthquake below Mount St. Helens triggered the largest landslide in recorded history and a massive eruption that deposited ash over several U.S. states. The lateral blast removed 1,300 feet from the top of the volcano and triggered shockwaves and pyroclastic flows that choked the Toutle River, blanketed a large area with ash, and killed 57 people. I was born the day after the eruption, so I have a vial of the ash sitting on the bookcase a few feet of me that was given to me by my parents after they visited the area in 2005, and relatives in other parts of Washington saved newspapers from that week to give to my twin brother and me when we were older.

I always think of the eruption when I read passages like this about the face of the earth being physically altered because it has been described as cataclysmic. Part of the mountain literally departed, and the debris from the lahars choked the Columbia River and reduced the capacity of the Toutle River by 90%. Something that significant happened, and yet the more important thing is that God loves us and has compassion on us.

How amazing is that!

Gracious God, thank you for the assurance that parts of the earth could give way and yet your love for us surpasses the amazingness of that. Amen.
-Jen McCabe

“Because you are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you, I give people in return for you, nations in exchange for your life.” -Isaiah 43:4

When I was in seminary, there was a retreat day during my birthday weekend. My (now former) husband was going to be gone on a camping trip with the Boy Scouts, so I decided to treat myself and signed up. A fellow classmate gave me a ride to the church where it was being held, and this verse was part of a larger passage we were given to contemplate when we arrived. Termed “A Love Letter from God”, the passage comprised the first seven verses of Isaiah 43, and I ended up swinging for a while on the church’s swing set along with one of my classmates as we thought about and prayed through the passage. (Yes, I was almost 22 and playing on the swings. It was a nice stress release as I was a newlywed at the time and in that adjustment period in which one learns to live with one’s spouse 24/7.)

This part of Isaiah takes place after the Babylonian Captivity when Cyrus had conquered the Babylonians and God was using him to return the captives after the Exile. This particular section tells Israel not to fear and that God is returning them home, giving other nations as a ransom to secure their release. Promises of being with them through various trials are given, and the larger message is that of restoration because God loves us so much. As much as it is a bit troubling to me that other nations and people groups should be captured and taken to secure my freedom, it is comforting to hear that I am precious in God’s sight and loved.

Thank you, Lord, for the promises of restoration and your presence with us in times of trial. Amen.
-Jen McCabe

What wondrous love is this, O my soul, O my soul!
What wondrous love is this, O my soul!
What wondrous love is this,
That caused the Lord of bliss,
To bear the dreadful curse,
For my soul, for my soul,
To bear the dreadful curse for my soul.

To God and to the Lamb, I will sing, I will sing!
To God and to the Lamb, I will sing, I will sing!
To God and to the Lamb, Who is the great “I AM, ”
While millions join the theme, I will sing, I will sing!
While millions join the theme, I will sing.

And when from death I’m free, I’ll sing on, I’ll sing on!
And when from death I’m free, I’ll sing on,
And when from death I’m free, I’ll sing and joyful be,
And thro’ eternity, I’ll sing on, I’ll sing on,
And thro’ eternity, I’ll sing on.
-The Hymnal 1982, #439