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18 Faith | Works

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Beyond the Garden Gate

Moving past easy answers into unexpected growth

BY CHRISTIE PURIFOY ILLUSTRATION BY JOE McKENDRY

 WHEN I FIRST SKETCHED IT OUT on graph paper, my flower garden

was a neat and tidy thing: symmetrical, structured, basking in full (albeit
imagined) sun. There were perfect little squares for zinnias, perfect
little squares for dahlias, and a whole row of perfect squares for lilies.
On paper, I edged the entire garden with smooth stepping Continued on pg 10

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09 INTOUCH.ORG
 FA I T H | W O R K S
stones. Each stone was settled in
its own perfect square, and each
square led directly to the next.
I did not give my paper garden
squares for weeds or squares for
the groundhogs who love to eat
dahlias. My children would help
me weed. My cats would chase
away the groundhogs.
In earliest spring my gar-
den still resembled that paper
plan, but any vision of neat
grids and perfect squares was
soon blurred, then completely
obliterated by the living garden.
Zinnias flopped onto the roses.
Dahlias defied the sticks and
twine I used to cage them. And a
giant Norway maple cast shade
onto one quarter of the plot,
stunting growth and undermin-
ing my hopes for perfect sym-
metry. Between the weeds the
children failed to pull and the
floppy flowers I failed to trim,
the stepping stones disappeared
entirely, though I still managed
to find one or two from memory.
And the groundhogs? Every
morning for weeks, I woke to
find one more dahlia brought low
for a nighttime buffet.
FOR A LONG WHILE, my spiritual
life was a neat and tidy thing,
too. In this interior landscape,
every hard question had its cor-
responding easy answer, which
encircled my soul like stepping
stones. I went round and round
on those answers, feeling safe
and confident. But if we walk
with God long enough, some
of our questions will defy the
sticks and twine we use to cage
them. Some easy answers will
go missing beneath the weeds,
the drifting leaves, or the tur-
moil of a sin-soaked world.
T H O U G H T F U L FA I T H . D E V O T E D L I V I N G .
I am afraid of what
lurks in the world. I am
afraid of what lurks in my
heart. But I have recently
discovered something else:
I am afraid of God, too.
I was sometimes uneasy imag-
ining new questions for which I
had not yet prepared an answer,
but it is the old questions that
have proven to be the wildest,
perhaps because they have the
deepest roots. And no questions
are older than the questions
that first echoed in Eden after
Adam and Eve rejected God’s
good way.
Where are you? God asked
Adam and Eve (Gen. 3:9).
Where are you? God asks me
and you.
I was afraid because I was
naked; so I hid myself, Adam
said (v. 10).
10
And where am I? I have hid-
den myself away among these
familiar answers and known
paths because I am afraid. The
weeds of my own persistent
shortcomings have spread, and
I have heard the howls of hun-
gry animals just beyond the
stepping stones. Stealing, kill-
ing, and destroying, their deeds
fill newspaper headlines day by
day (John 10:10). I feel threat-
ened by the evil of a world that
has turned its back on love, but I
also feel implicated in it.
I am afraid of what lurks in the
world. I am afraid of what lurks
in my heart.
But I have recently discovered any other way? (Matt. 26:39). that God has not promised a life
something else: I am afraid of I am the way, Jesus says, and without suffering.
God, too. that may be the only answer we Can we love someone we fear?
absolutely need (John 14:6). I cannot love a garden snake,
IS IT POSSIBLE to fear God and to Walking on easy answers can but, then, that snake does not
love Him? I always believed this help us begin our journey, but love me. We love because the
was an easy question, and in the
first springtime of our faith, we
ultimately we must step out on
the Cornerstone Himself. This
mighty God we do fear loved us
first (1 John 4:19). We love, not
need ready answers. They are
our stepping stones, and I walked
is a scary thing to do, and fear
is precisely the right word for
because He helps us avoid death
and suffering, but because His
firmly on the knowledge that fear the experience. Fear isn’t merely comfort is real and solid beneath
of God is not like other kinds of
fear. It is a kind of awe. Yet the
a synonym for awe, as I once
claimed. Standing on the Corner-
our feet. And we love because
we believe His assurance that
day comes when we cannot find
that familiar solid ground. Our
stone of Christ, I have trembled
to acknowledge the One who
all these winters are leading us
to one eternal spring. I do not
foot hovers in air, and we trem-
ble to remember that “the Lord
holds the power of life and death
in His scarred hands. I have been
know what we will find beyond
the perceived safety of our gar-
kills and makes alive; He brings painfully aware of my own weak- den gates, but I know every step-
down to Sheol and raises up” ness. I have felt both great peace ping stone along this Jesus Way
(1 Sam. 2:6). He is God of the and the troubling recognition has been laid for us in love. 
killing frost as well as the God
of spring. I have only to imagine
some terrible loss or some awful
disappointment to recognize that
what I feel is not awe. I am afraid.
Can we really trust Him? This
world is choked with the bram-
bles of injustice, anguish, and
death, and God gives no guarantee
that our lives won’t be touched by
the same. My paper sketch was
no help against hungry ground-
Like Job and David,
hogs, and my easy answers are no we have questions
match for suffering. Like Job and
David, we have questions and we and we have God, but
have God, but we don’t necessar-
ily have answers. we don’t necessarily
EVERY EDEN has its crafty snake
have answers.
whispering questions laced with
fear and doubt, but unanswered
questions need not frighten us.
Truth suffered and died on a
cross that we might all conquer
death, and Truth has invited
us to walk with Him. But this
requires picking up our own
cross, and it is only reasonable
to ask, as Jesus once did, Is there
11 INTOUCH.ORG
 FA I T H | W O R K S
to be too cool this morning.
That’s right, I’m talking to you.
C’mon, put your hands together
and join in with everyone else!”
Every head in the room turned
to look at those of us stand-
ing in the back. And I confess,
I wasn’t clapping—but not out
of an attempt to be cool.
In the words of the Ira Stan-
phill hymn from my boyhood,
“There’s room at the cross for
you.” I believed that then. I
believe it still. But a question
has surfaced as I’ve grown older:
Is there room in the church for
me? That day in the sunlit room,
I felt the sting of that question,
along with the focused gaze of
a roomful of people. I did not
question anyone else’s sincerity
that morning, but I felt as if mine
was under scrutiny because I
couldn’t join in with everyone
else and that very summery
expression of faith.
Here’s the problem: I have a
wintry soul.
A summery faith is outwardly
enthusiastic and lends itself nat-
urally to hand-clapping—per-
haps even some foot-stomping.
This line from the Robert Love-
recognizable to anyone famil- less hymn sums it well: “Every
iar with the modern worship day with Jesus is sweeter than
world. They had come to usher the day before.” There are those
Seasoned Worship us into a corporate time of
praise. And so they did, begin-
I know and love who possess a
summery faith, and I will not
ning with a prayer extolling the dismiss their expressions of
There’s more than one way to approach the throne of God.
attributes of God, then quickly worship. I take them at their
transitioning to upbeat songs. word. But because they are dear
BY JOHN BLASE PHOTO-ILLUSTRATION BY MLC
Interwoven with the lyrics was to me, I do have questions about
testimony of answered prayer, what happens on the day Jesus
SOURCE PHOTO: GETTY IMAGES
and in no time most of the peo- comes along that isn’t sweeter
ple in the room were raising than the one before. What do
 EVERY SEAT IN THE ROOM WAS FILLED , so a handful of people, hands and voices. But suddenly you do with that day? Or week?
including me, had to stand against a back wall—a row of floor-to- the music stopped. One member That month? Or year?
ceiling windows, which bathed the room with the bright 8 a.m. of the duo said, “OK, we’ve got With each trip around the sun,
sunlight. Standing on a slightly raised platform were a couple some people in the back trying I find myself more and more at
T H O U G H T F U L FA I T H . D E V O T E D L I V I N G . 12
WHAT HAPPENS ON
THE DAY JESUS
COMES ALONG THAT
ISN’T SWEETER THAN
THE ONE BEFORE.
WHAT DO YOU DO WITH
THAT DAY? OR WEEK?
THAT MONTH? OR YEAR?
home in the hymns of David
and company. Yes, in that older
hymnal, the Psalms, with lines
like: “Hear my prayer, O Lord,
and give ear to my cry; do not
be silent at my tears; for I am a
stranger with You, a sojourner
like all my fathers. Turn Your
gaze away from me, that I may
smile again, before I depart
and am no more,” and “As for
the days of our life, they con-
tain seventy years, or if due to
strength, eighty years, yet their
pride is but labor and sorrow;
for soon it is gone and we fly
away” (Ps. 39:12-13; 90:10).
These aren’t exactly the go-to
verses to whip up a Sunday
crowd. But live in this Monday-
through-Friday world for very
long—love people and places
and things—and you have to
admit there are days when those
chilly lines hit the mark. Yes, we
are called to be singular in our
13 INTOUCH.ORG
devotion and commitment to
the Man from Galilee, but surely
that doesn’t mean our individual
expressions of faith will always
be identical to one another’s. I am
not trying to say one approach is
right and the other wrong. But I
am trying to say we worshippers
of God are varied—and that’s a
very good thing.
My plea is for more room in
the room. Mine is a request for
a more seasoned worship—for
exuberance when the Spirit is
near, but also space to admit the
absence of God, or more accu-
rately the feeling of absence. If
someone like David, that man
after God’s heart, can express
such wintry proclamations,
shouldn’t we try to live and wor-
ship as spaciously as well?
Hear me: I will not dismiss
sunny morning worship. I
need it, in fact. If I’m not care-
ful, I can allow my wintriness
to cause me to withdraw from
the congregation, and the life of
faith was never intended to be a
solo endeavor. But in return, I
ask that you please not cast off
my God-given affinity for win-
ter—that instead of clapping
my hands I prefer to quietly rub
them before faith’s embers.
Just as the winter needs sum-
mer, the summer needs winter—
and, for that matter, spring and
autumn, too. The gifts of a win-
try soul to the body of Christ
are the much-needed reminder
that our God of glorious light is
also the Man of Sorrows, very
well acquainted with life’s chill.
In other words, if we’re going to
chase hard after the God who
is our hearts’ strength and our
portion forever, I need you—and
you need me, too.  
 FA I T H | W O R K S
ONE QUESTION, FOUR ANSWERS
HOW HAS YOUR VISION OF GOD
CHANGED AS YOU’VE GROWN IN YOUR FAITH?
I’VE BEEN A CHRISTIAN for nearly 40 years
now, and to speak frankly, I am often disap-
pointed by how little, over those decades, I
have grown in holiness. My teenage self
would have expected me to be much more
Christlike by now! But while I may be disap-
pointed in myself, I am not discouraged. My
shortcomings have made me more aware,
day by day and year by year, of how patient
God is with me, how forbearing, how full of
kindness and grace. Like the father of the
Prodigal Son, He waits for me when I stray
from Him and comes to meet me when I
turn back to Him. It is therefore fitting that
even in the book of Lamentations, we hear:
“The Lord’s lovingkindnesses indeed never
cease, for His compassions never fail. They
are new every morning; great is Your faith-
fulness” (3:22-23).
—Alan Jacobs, Distinguished Professor of
Humanities in the Honors Program of Baylor
University and author of How to Think: A
Survival Guide for a World at Odds
T H O U G H T F U L FA I T H . D E V O T E D L I V I N G .
IN RECENT MONTHS I have begun to feel a
shift in my vision of God. It has always been
easier for me to relate to Jesus and to the
Holy Spirit, but recently I have felt God
pursuing me as a loving father does his
daughter. My view of God as Father has
always led me to see Him as a disciplinarian
who is impossible to please and will spank
me when I mess up. But as I have pro-
gressed in my faith, God is showing me
that while any good father disciplines
those he loves, our heavenly Father also
delights in seeing His children smile, laugh,
and enjoy being with Him. I want to
become that little girl who curls up in her
Daddy’s lap, asks Him for the desires of her
heart, full of faith, and accepts that He
knows best. How interesting it is to grow
in maturity while regressing to childlike-
ness at the same time!
—Mandisa, Grammy Award-winning
recording artist. Her latest album is
Out of the Dark.
14
HOW TO BUILD AN UNMOVABLE FOUNDATION FOR YOUR LIFE.
I WAS RAISED with an understanding that the The storms of adversity are a part of life. It’s not a question of if they’ll
good news of Jesus is personal salvation come, but when. When you’re blindsided, are you sure your anchor
and individual reconciliation to God, but as will hold fast? In Standing Strong, Dr. Stanley identifies the most
I’ve grown in my faith, my understanding
foundational truths about God and His Word, and reminds us that our
of the good news has encompassed a
essential beliefs about life issues will make all the difference. When
broader vision of God’s kingdom here on
earth. God desires not just our repentance our convictions are based on the rock-solid foundation of God’s
and relationship to Him; He also invites us enduring promises, we can stand strong with unwavering confidence
into the work of restoration. Our individual no matter the circumstances.
relationship to God should have commu-
nity impact, which involves seeking justice
$19 usd
to correct systems and structures that per-
petuate oppression and marginalize people
made in the image of God. For followers of
Christ, loving our neighbor means engag-
ing the systems and structures in which our
neighbors live. Jesus cared not just about
people’s spiritual condition but about their
physical and social needs as well, and we
have the privilege to continue that work as
the church.
—Jenny Yang, VP of Advocacy and Policy
at World Relief and co-author of Welcoming
the Stranger: Justice, Compassion & Truth
in the Immigration Debate
I HAVE FOUND GOD to become more familiar
and more strange at the same time. I get
now, in my mid-40s, more than I did as a teen
what it means to be a friend of God. It’s a
wonderful feeling: that relaxed sense of
being at home with someone. But I also find
myself equally at home with the mystery of
God, with the things that exceed my capac-
ity to comprehend. I understand more fully
that this mystery is something to be entered
into deeply rather than mastered. It makes
me think of what Bonhoeffer once said, that
“[the] more we come to know a thing, the
more mysterious it becomes for us. Not the
person who is furthest away from us is the
biggest mystery, but rather the nearest
one.” His observation makes sense of my
experience of God—and gives me peace.
ILLUSTRATION BY ELTIPO
—W. David O. Taylor, Assistant Professor
of Theology and Culture at Fuller
Theological Seminary, and author of The
Theater of God’s Glory: Calvin, Creation,
and the Liturgical Arts
1-800-980-0020 | INTOUCH.ORG/STANDINGSTRONG
 FA I T H | W O R K S
A Simple
Refrain
What I learned by incorporating
thoughtful repetition into my prayer life
BY ALINE MELLO 
PHOTOGRAPH BY
DARREN BRAUN
 I DON’T KNOW GOD as well as
I think I do.
This devastating revelation
came after several heartbreak-
ing disappointments in my life,
which made me doubt every-
thing—especially how to inter-
act with God. Questions poured
out of the darker, hidden part
of my brain like ants fleeing a
damaged anthill.
Do I even know how to pray?
Why do I keep asking Him
for the same things? Is there
even a point?
To address my doubt, I decided
to look into what the first Chris-
tians did after Jesus ascended. I
figured His disappearance into
heaven must have been a big
enough event to make at least
some of them feel as lost as I
did. Were they disappointed?
Did they feel abandoned? These
people could, only a month
prior, hear and hug Jesus. But
now they had to communicate
with Him somehow through the
Holy Spirit. How odd that must
T H O U G H T F U L FA I T H . D E V O T E D L I V I N G .
DAY 7
I find myself saying the prayer
to myself as I get the mail or
when I am picking up clothes
from my bedroom floor—when
it’s quiet.
I’m realizing there isn’t much
silence in my life. When I’m not
listening to music, I’m listening
to a podcast or watching a video What if, like holding
on my phone. These can deepen
my understanding of life and eye contact with someone
relationships or offer relief to
the daily anxiety that consumes for too long, silence
my mind. So maybe filling up
silence isn’t such a bad thing—
requires confrontation?
but I wonder.
What if, like holding eye con-
tact with someone for too long,
silence requires confrontation?
What if it asks me to stay exactly
where I am, as I am, in the real-
ity of my life—alone with the
stinging disappointment and
the monotony of every day, the
deeper questions pushing their
way up toward light? groups makes me uncomfortable. out on the floor. They brought
Perhaps that’s why silence Those who know me have heard large plate after large plate—of
draws me to prayer, to God. my disclaimers about my own chicken and beef and vegetables
It creates room to reflect. The group: I change “Brazilians eat a and herbs—and placed them
deeper I think, the more ques- lot of corn” to “Well, the Brazil- on the sheet. There were clear,
tions I ask, the closer I get to the ians from my town, and my fam- small rice wraps and bowls with
answer—and it’s always Jesus. ily—actually, just the ones I’ve water. Our hosts taught us how
Even in the midst of pain, of hard met—seem to me like they eat to dip our fingers in the bowls,
questions, it comes back to Him. more corn than non-Brazilians.” and dab the sides of the wraps so
have felt. Yet the early Christians not only persisted but flourished. I Silence invites me there sooner. But how do I know when my ten- that when we stuffed and folded
discovered that praying at fixed hours throughout the day was among dency has gone too far? them, they’d stay sealed.
their spiritual disciplines. DAY 15 When I was a teenager, my We sat cross-legged around
Though I was afraid it would become another item on a to-do list, The Lord’s Prayer uses the plu- father’s soccer team played the sheet and began the dance of
I determined to incorporate praying Matthew 6:9-13 into my daily ral. It trips me up. Our Father in against a majority Vietnamese reaching and passing plates. We
habits. I did so three times a day, hoping it would help me overcome heaven. Give us today our daily team every Sunday. So after a ate for hours—soccer rivalry,
the emptiness that had become all too common. I decided I’d try it bread. I consider changing it to game, when one of the players language barriers, cultural dif-
for three weeks. singular, but I can’t bring myself invited my family to eat at his ferences put aside.
to change Jesus’ prayer. home, we said yes. That night, we wouldn’t have
DAY 1 The plural makes me think I’ve We arrived at the apartment, eaten, had we not passed the
When I remembered to pray today, I was already walking my dog ignored the importance of groups and the couple led us to the liv- plates. The community in that
for the night. It was too late to space the prayers out. Isn’t the point in Christianity. Our society is ing room. The couches and cof- room wasn’t just enjoyable—it
of praying three times supposed to be about an all-day awareness of obsessed with individuality, fee table were against the wall, was needed.
God? I pray only once—before bed—and I hope it counts. and so am I—fitting people into and there was a bed sheet spread Even when we’re Continued on pg 18
16 17 INTOUCH.ORG
 FA I T H | W O R K S
eating alone, we can still remem-
ber we are part of a greater
group—along with the peo-
ple who picked and packaged
the vegetables, the person who
cooked them. Maybe that’s why
Jesus instructed His disciples
to pray in the plural, rather than
the singular. He said it as if He
wanted us to remember that even
when we’re alone, we’re not—we
remain members of a larger body.
DAY 22
Yesterday was the last day of
my prayer experiment. Tonight,
when I was walking out of the
store, I saw a group of four
women and three children sit-
ting on the ground. They were
brown-skinned like me, and one
woman said “Please,” hand out-
stretched. Startled, I looked at
her and said, “Oh, I’m so sorry!”
and kept walking.
I almost turned around. I
almost put my groceries in my
car and went back. But I didn’t.
What could I have done? Fear
made my heart pound heavy. I
was one woman. It was dark.
Should I have invited them into
the store and bought them neces-
sities? Should I have given them
the milk from my bag? The cash
in my wallet? Maybe yes. Maybe
I should’ve done all of it. I am
tired of those of us who offer
prayer but not bread. But tonight
that’s all I did.
I prayed out loud. Our Father
in heaven, have mercy on them.
I stood outside my car, hand on
the handle. Forgive me. I felt the
shame, the regret of it. Forgive
me. May Your name be kept holy.
May Your kingdom come soon.
May Your will be done in their
lives, as it is in heaven. Give them
T H O U G H T F U L FA I T H . D E V O T E D L I V I N G .
Jesus instructed His
disciples to pray in the plural.
He wanted us to remember
that even when we’re alone,
we’re not—we remain
members of a larger body.
today their daily bread, all the
food they need. I had to believe
that my failure wasn’t enough
to deter God from helping fam-
ilies like them. Have mercy on
them. Have mercy on me. I had to
believe that God doesn’t choose
between us. That He doesn’t
give me cereal and soy milk but
ignores them. Forgive us our
sins as we forgive those who
have sinned against us. I had to
know that it doesn’t all depend
on my efforts, my prayers. And I
had to remember that just as they
lacked God’s mercy and needed it,
so did I. The plural in the prayer
included them, too. Don’t let us
yield to temptation, but save all
of us from the evil one. Amen.
18
I USED TO THINK prayer needed
to be felt first, then practiced. It
sounds silly in hindsight, but I
thought God would hear me bet-
ter if I spoke with more emotion.
I’ve learned that He is always
attuned to me, even when I am
careless with my time and atten-
tion. Prayer is there to make me
remember God, not make God
remember me. So when I slow
down to pray each morning, after-
noon, and night, I draw closer to
my Father in heaven. And, though
I may still not yet know Him as
well as I once thought I did, I can
reserve time to connect with Him
even in my confusion, failure, and
apathy—to turn my face toward
Him and begin again.  same old heaviness and continuing to fall.
LYRIC ESSAY
PLUMAGE by Cameron Lawrence
“
WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME, I’m so lazy,” my accomplished
friend says one afternoon, and I know what he means
is help me hate myself less, because for as long as we’ve
known each other, there’s been an invisible mouth he’s trying to feed,
a mythical beast with an unquenchable hankering for the impos-
sible—a requirement that lives somewhere between hell and the
stubble on his chin. I know by “lazy” he means that he has willingly
climbed inside inaction as if a plush casket, and every moment
without completing a task is another feather in the funeral pillow.
To be worthy of this body—these days spent lengthening grocery
lines and adding congestion to highways—my friend believes there
should be perpetual evidence of his being here, preferably in the
form of something a person can praise or spend. His moments in
time collecting hair-like on the slender rachis of a quill, dipped into
the marrow of existence to write again and again the line I am here.
Because my friend has confused life with its doings, as if someday
he will arrive on a mountaintop, where all the self-possessed sec-
onds of his striving will coalesce into a beautiful pair of wings, capa-
ble of sending him soaring above the trees, free from the shadows of
self-loathing. I say to my friend, “I’m sorry, I understand,” but what
I mean to tell him is the basis of worth-ship is not accomplishment
but worship, in rising each morning to stretch one’s empty hands
upward and say thank you—a burden so light you might be forgiven
for thinking it doesn’t weigh enough, for once again picking up the
19 INTOUCH.ORG
 FA I T H | W O R K S
We’ve been using a prayer
book to guide us through these
times. It is a liturgy of sorts,
The Little Church with an order of songs, psalms,
Scripture readings, and scripted
prayers, along with space
When it comes to forming healthy habits of worship, don’t
underestimate the role your home can play.
for silence and free-flowing
intercession.
The words reflect and lit-
BY LIUAN HUSKA ILLUSTRATION BY MICHAEL KIRKHAM
urgy combined with 3-year-old
might seem incongruous. Maybe
you think of splattered candle
wax, wiggly legs making unholy
 FIRST, we light the candle. The flame is a physical hallowing of bumps in the silence, and rushed
our living room space, where we hold weekly family worship. As readings. That is sometimes
we’ve transitioned from our previous church and not yet started the case. More often than not,
attending a new church regularly, these times serve as a spiritual though, I’ve been pleasantly sur-
huddle for my husband, our 3-year-old son, and me (and the baby, if prised by how much Oliver has
he’s not napping). taken to the liturgy, and by his
T H O U G H T F U L FA I T H . D E V O T E D L I V I N G . 20
innate attraction to holy things.
“It’s shivering,” Oliver says,
as the flickering candle holds
our gaze. The tiny flame creates
a hush, a set-apartness, which
immediately slows our pace and
makes us take notice. The first
item in the liturgy is a song, which
Oliver selects at random from a
tattered red songbook. The songs
in the book are simple and repeti-
tive, which gives him a chance to
join in after a couple rounds.
“Our soul is waiting for God.
Our hearts find joy in the Lord.”
We sing this slowly, eight or
nine or 10 times. The words etch
grooves on our hearts, which we
can return to at other times of
the day to touch wonderingly.
I’ve found Oliver humming the
tunes we have sung, or mutter-
ing snippets of songs before fall-
ing asleep, “Jesus, remember
me [when you come into your
kingdom] …”
A psalm is next—Psalm 71. I
explain what refuge means—a
shack, say, in a thunderstorm.
Later, Oliver interrupts, “What
is ‘awe’?” We go back to the
thunderstorm example: “Some-
thing that makes you go, ‘Wow!’”
Then come readings—one from
the Old Testament and one from
the Gospels, followed by another
song, then a time of silence.
Sometimes we set a timer to help
contain the minutes for Oliver.
Today we play it by ear, moving
on when he gets too fidgety.
Next are “Intercessions.” We
take turns bringing up people
we know—my parents, whose
house was flooded in Hurricane
Harvey, for example. When
nobody says anything for a
while, Oliver (who has inher-
ited my type A personality),
LIKE THE PARALYTIC IN
THE GOSPELS, WHOSE
FRIENDS CARRY HIM TO
JESUS, THE LITURGY
CARRIES ME, IN MY
SPIRITUALLY INJURED
STATE, TO THE ALTAR.
THERE, I SIT WITH GOD
IN SILENCE.
prompts, “Baba, it’s your turn.
Mama, do you have anybody
else?” We move on to some
scripted prayers, including the
Lord’s Prayer, and end with a
song. Most importantly for him,
Oliver gets to blow out the can-
dle to signal the end of “church
time.” His desire to participate
in whatever small ways he can
reassures us that what we are
doing is sinking beneath the sur-
face level and into his heart.
My husband and I are coming
out of a season where we have
been burnt out by church—by
expectations of a certain level of
involvement, by the pressure to
appear pious. What I appreciate
about this prayer book are the
reasonable expectations. You
show up, even if you don’t have
anything particularly poignant
to say. The psalms, readings,
and prayers shared by others
near and far, living and now
dead, carry you along. Like the
paralytic in the Gospels, whose
friends carry him to Jesus, the
21 INTOUCH.ORG
liturgy carries me, in my spiri-
tually injured state, to the altar.
There, I sit with God in silence.
Children, too, require carry-
ing. “In His arm He will gather
the lambs and carry them in
His bosom,” says Isaiah of our
Shepherd God (40:11). Liturgies,
through their ritual nature, also
serve our young ones, forming
a worship “habit.” The order of
songs, readings, prayers, and
even the uncomfortable minutes
of silence create a shape for our
hearts, helpful especially for
those of us (me included) who
find ourselves in a time of tran-
sition. For children, the liturgy
holds a sacred space in which to
explore and wonder.
We might not come from litur-
gical traditions, but most Chris-
tians have some form of public
worship that includes prayers,
responses, and orderly progres-
sion—what some people call an
order of worship. What this does
is make clear that our worship is
not something we created our-
selves but rather something we
receive from those who came
before us (though we have the
freedom to make adjustments,
as our family does to include our
children). These ties ground my
generation and the ones to follow
by reminding us we are part of
something deeper and broader
than the present moment. You
might call this Church with a
big C, Church at its best. I think
that this sense of belonging to
the Church, of touching a current
steadier than the ebbs and flows
of our own short lives, is part
of what Oliver is responding to
when he joins in. It is something
to look for in the new church
we’ll call home.  
 Dive Deeper. Soar Higher. 07
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I was stunned. Though Pas-

tor Mike knew my story, which
I’d shared with people over the
Without Condemnation years in private settings, I’d
never imagined telling it to our
I knew God had forgiven me for my abortion, but could my fellow Christians? entire congregation. The pros-
pect paralyzed me. Like Adam
BY LYNN D. MORRISSEY PHOTOGRAPH BY RYAN HAYSLIP and Eve, who’d sinned and sewn
fig leaves together to cover their
nakedness, I scrambled to stitch
my own flimsy camouflage. I
made excuses: Three days were
 COMBING THROUGH the 40 million emails that had accumulated not enough time for thoughtful
in my inbox overnight, I gasped when I read one from my pastor: prayer. Mike’s four-minute testi-
“Lynn, would you be willing to give a four-minute testimony during mony request was cavalier. How
our worship service, about how God healed you after your abortion?” could I convey such Continued on pg 10
1-800-980-0020 | INTOUCH.ORG/BIBLES

09 INTOUCH.ORG

ITM-124_08_FaithWorks_FINAL2.indd 8-9 5/18/18 10:10 AM

 FA I T H | W O R K S
deep grief and deeper healing in
a Sunday morning sound bite?
And how could I share about my
past sin in a holy worship ser-
vice, especially with men and
children present?
As a new Christian in my early
20s, I’d had an abortion. I was
young, confused, petrified of
childbirth, and overwhelmed by
the thought of raising a child. I
felt trapped. Immediately after
the procedure had taken place, I
was relieved, with no real aware-
ness of my sin or empathy for my
child. I’d bought the abortionist’s
“blob of tissue” lie.
Over the years, however, my
decision haunted me. As God
convicted me through Scripture
and others’ testimonies, I real-
ized the grave sin I’d committed
and grieved my child’s death.
Though I confessed my guilt
and begged God’s forgiveness,
I couldn’t receive it because of
the alienation my shame caused.
For 18 years I would agonize—
unable to feel God’s forgiveness
and unable to absolve myself.
I absorbed the harsh condem-
nation Christians spewed at
women like me without ever
understanding our desperation
or knowing our stories. I hid
my sin because many people I
knew hated abortion and failed
to show a shred of compassion,
love, or grace.
But God knew how much
I needed such kindness and
bestowed it at a secular journ-
aling retreat. As I responded to
a writing prompt about a deep
emotional injury that had never
healed, God used my pen to lance
that festering wound. Writing
allowed me to give voice to my
anguish for the first time.
T H O U G H T F U L FA I T H . D E V O T E D L I V I N G .
ITM-124_08_FaithWorks_FINAL2.indd 10-11
I hid my sin because
many people I knew hated
abortion and failed to
show a shred of compassion,
love, or grace.
When I finished reading, each
participant came forward and
cradled me in tenderness and
love. Their actions reminded me
of our loving Lord, who showed
heartfelt compassion to the
woman caught in the shame of
adultery. Rather than hurling
stones her way, He confronted
the judgmental hypocrisy of her
accusers, and they left in shame
and silence. But Jesus remained.
Just as God had covered Adam
and Eve’s nakedness with gar-
ments made from the skin of sac-
rificial animals, Jesus—the One
who would someday sacrifice His
life for the adulteress’s—draped
her in His robe of righteousness
and declared, “I do not condemn
you, either. Go. From now on sin
no more” (John 8:11).
Jesus hadn’t condemned me,
nor had these retreat partici-
pants. I hoped I would receive
such a caring response if Chris-
tians heard my story, so I
began telling it to small groups
of women. Not one stone was
thrown. So why was this hideous
10
shame suddenly overtaking me
again at the thought of speak-
ing to our congregation? Then
it came to me: Six months ear-
lier I’d had a talk with an older
woman at church. Not knowing
my past, she asked, “Lynn, how
can women murder their own
children? They are the coldest,
most callous creatures imag-
inable. They are detestable.” I
stayed silent.
As I prayed now whether to
share my testimony, God spoke.
He impressed upon me these
thoughts: Fix your eyes on Jesus.
He endured the cross and scorned
its shame and pardoned yours.
Tell your story. Share His grace.
I said yes to God and to Pastor
Mike, telling my story on a sunny
Sunday morning. And I hid noth-
ing—my sin, His forgiveness;
my shame, His atonement; my
self-condemnation, His Self-
giving grace. Oh, how I shared
His grace through joyful tears
as I read the prayer I had written
in my journal on the day Christ
set me free from abortion’s guilt:
Oh, God! Your grace is fluid,
flowing, flooding, unleashed,
unlimited, unmeasured,
undeserved—a gift bestowed
without merit, without cost
to me, free. It is a ceiling-
less sky, a relentless riot of
rain, a shoreless, bottomless
ocean, there for the taking
by the teaspoonful, cupful,
bucketful, basinful, what-
ever amount for whatever
need. And, with the taking,
no diminishing supply—
unending, unfathomable.
For almost 20 years, I’ve
sandbagged the flow of Your
grace and lay dying in the
sand—parched and shriv-
eled like snakeskin, thick-
tongued, cotton-eyed, unable
to see or speak or receive
forgiveness, unable to walk
to the water to plunge my fes-
tering heart into Your ocean’s
depths. I’m Bethesda Pool’s
paralytic—immobile—wait-
ing for You to stir the waters,
lift me up, and put me in to
baptize my wound in the sea
of Your grace, to bury my sin
in the depths of the ocean.
With Your help, I would be
satisfied now to swallow even
the tiniest raindrop of grace.
I’m dying of thirst for Your
love, thirst for Your pardon.
Your love flows freely. I’m
ready to receive the forgive-
ness You gave me when You
opened wide Your arms on
Calvary’s cross, when You
died for my sin of abortion.
When I finished reading my
prayer, just as I had so many
ye a rs a go , I ex p e r i e n c e d
complete release, the weight-
lessness in my chest, the peace
opening up in my heart like a
fluttering of wings.
After the worship service,
many men, women, and teens
stepped up to offer love, thanks,
encouragement, and tears. One
woman held me close, whisper-
ing in my ear, “I understand your
pain personally. Please, may we
talk later?” Several others did the
same. Then an elderly man said
in quavering voice, “I’ve never
told anyone, but my mother had
an abortion out of desperation
during the Depression, because
my parents couldn’t feed another
child. She regretted her decision
for the rest of her life, and so did
we. I long to see my sibling in
heaven.” Another man admitted,
“I never knew until recently that
the reason my mother divorced
my father and landed in a psych
ward was because she’d had two
abortions. He couldn’t help her
because she could never forgive
herself. I wish she could have
heard your story.”
Fix your eyes on Jesus.
He endured the cross and
scorned its shame and
pardoned yours. Tell your
story. Share His grace.
11 INTOUCH.ORG
After the last person spoke
to me, I saw the woman who’d
unknowingly called me a mur-
deress, standing at a distance. I
saw her hiding behind her own
fig leaf of remorse. I walked
over to her, arms outstretched.
She leaned forward, press-
ing her face into my shoulder.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m
so sorry,” her words a sweet
refrain. “I just didn’t under-
stand,” she said. “Can you ever
forgive me?”
Author Max Lucado said of
God, “We hide. He seeks. We
bring sin. He brings a sacrifice.
We try fig leaves. He brings the
robe of righteousness.” That day
I saw fig leaves falling down at the
foot of the cross and hearts lifted
up to the throne of God. Wor-
shippers who’d had abortions
and those who had judged them,
all were draped in the righteous
robes of Christ’s grace, compas-
sion, and love—garments He had
purchased with His blood, robes
that had expunged their shame
and mine. 
5/18/18 10:10 AM
 FA I T H | W O R K S
more levelheaded of us, deter-
mined our most immediate need,
beyond proximity to scones and
Let Us Reason Together a pot of Earl Grey, was a church.
Shortly after our arrival, we
Why we must do the hard work of testing our faith
visited a local congregation and
immediately felt as if we’d come
BY KIMBERLY COYLE ILLUSTRATION BY PETER GREENWOOD
home. The worship stirred us,
and the people, unlike the Brit-
ish weather, were warm and
welcoming. However, I had the
immediate impression I was in
 WHEN MY HUSBAND and I learned he was being transferred to over my head with the preaching.
central London for his job, we felt overwhelmed with the prospect Our pastor, John, who had been
of choosing a home in the right location. Being in my 20s and an educated at both St. Andrew’s
Anglophile of ridiculous proportions, I was interested in the beauty and Ridley Hall in Cambridge,
of the surrounding villages, tea shops, and museums. Michael, the taught with a fierce intellect. He
T H O U G H T F U L FA I T H . D E V O T E D L I V I N G . 12
ITM-124_08_FaithWorks_FINAL2.indd 12-13
made his messages accessible
for the average congregant, but
it was clear his knowledge sur-
passed that of many pastors I’d
previously heard.
One of the first sermons we
listened to John preach made
a lasting impression on us
and helped me settle into the
weekly rhythm of expanding
and stretching both my critical
reasoning and my convictions.
In the sermon, he said that being
a Christian does not require you
to “check your brain at the door,”
but, rather, faith is meant to be
mulled over, wrestled with, and
thoughtfully examined. True
faith can stand up to intellectual
rigor. While I had not engaged in
anything of the sort until then,
John gave me a glimpse of what
my faith could look like.
His sermon was an invitation
to use all parts of me, includ-
ing my intellect, as a means of
worshipping and knowing God.
It was an invitation to explo-
ration, critical thinking, and a
faith based on more than gen-
eralizations and good feelings.
I began examining my beliefs by
listening to voices of those who
disagreed with me, beginning
with my church small group,
who gave me the immediate
opportunity to put this into
practice.
For the first time in my life,
I found myself surrounded by
believers who practiced their
faith differently than I prac-
ticed mine. They welcomed
non-Christians into intimate
faith experiences, held mini-
services in pubs, and prayed for
strangers. Some of them had
divorced, some were in recovery,
and some were walking a fine line
FAITH IS MEANT TO BE
MULLED OVER, WRESTLED
WITH, AND THOUGHTFULLY
EXAMINED. TRUE FAITH
CAN STAND UP TO
INTELLECTUAL RIGOR.
between doubt and belief. When
I realized they had something
to teach me about faithfulness
by virtue of their faithful lives,
it helped me begin to embrace
other voices too—those who
were marginalized, those who
came from different traditions,
and those new to faith. In my
friends, I saw an example of
how to still one’s heart and lis-
ten without an agenda or instant
rebuttal—how to take questions
to Scripture and to God in prayer.
One of the challenges of
becoming a Christian as a child is
that we can become stuck in the
developmental phase and partic-
ularities of the church culture in
which we came to know Christ.
We often adopt the tenets of our
parents or our denomination
with little wrestling—which
is good and right when we are
childlike in our reasoning. We
memorize Scripture and learn
the stories, but many of us carry
this no further. Allowing a pas-
tor or teacher to do our thinking
for us, we sit as if empty vessels
waiting to be filled with knowl-
edge on a Sunday morning.
Christians need to become
questioners, lifelong learners,
13 INTOUCH.ORG
open-minded, well-reasoned
individuals who enter into a
conversation with our faith. We
need to hold nuance in one hand
and moral absolutes in the other,
asking how they balance. To
study the Word of God through
the lens of history, church tra-
dition, communities of color,
theologians, and nonbelievers
can lead us to a greater under-
standing of the true source.
After listening to voices within
the church, I expanded to areas
beyond the Christian experi-
ence. I looked to scientists, doc-
tors, and artists and asked what I
could learn about God from their
work. We understand the Bible
better when we study how others
interact with it—even those who
don’t believe exactly as we do.
This practice of “examin[ing]
everything carefully” and
“hold[ing] fast to that which is
good” (1 Thess. 5:21) has helped
me realize when I’m being sold a
version of Christianity that has
nothing to do with Christ. Asking
questions of our religious tradi-
tions doesn’t change the nature
of God, but it does change us.
Given today’s political and social
climate, we need deep-thinking,
curious Christians—people who
are well studied, imaginative,
and intuitive.
Approaching faith in a more
robust way has done more than
simply increase my empathy
and compassion; it has removed
the fear that my faith will col-
lapse under scrutiny. When I
approach the church door, I do
so with every part of me. I’m no
longer an empty vessel waiting
to be filled, but rather a person
who enters into glorious mys-
tery with hope. 
5/18/18 10:10 AM
 FA I T H | W O R K S
ONE QUESTION, FOUR ANSWERS
WHAT IS ONE ISSUE YOU WISH THE CHURCH
WOULD ADDRESS DIFFERENTLY?
I WISH THE CHURCH would address mental
illness differently. By conflating neuro-
chemical issues with spiritual ones, the
church harms people. Those with bipolar
disorder desperately need a mood stabilizer
but have been told they’ll get better if only
they will pray more, have more faith, and
read their Bible more often. That is spiritual
abuse at worst and spiritual malpractice at
best. Of course, everyone is well served by
praying more and being in the Word. But we
wouldn’t tell a cancer patient to do those
things alone in order to be cured. We should
likewise stop doing so to people with serious
mental illness. It’s dangerous and harmful.
These precious suffering individuals need
the love and wisdom of Christ manifested
to them. The time has come. We can and
must do better.
—Kelly M. Rosati, CEO of KMR Consulting
and former V.P., Advocacy for Children for
Focus on the Family
T H O U G H T F U L FA I T H . D E V O T E D L I V I N G .
ITM-124_08_FaithWorks_FINAL2.indd 14-15
GENESIS 1 TELLS US we are created in the very
likeness and image of God. The social con-
struct of race, however, was engineered to
communicate a very different agenda: that
human value is determined by where a per-
son falls on the racial hierarchy. Certain
races in our nation have been deemed bet-
ter than others, allowing evils such as slav-
ery and white supremacy to thrive. The
racial narrative that some humans are more
worthy than others is wrong, but it is more
than that: It is a mockery of God.
Despite constantly being reminded of
our history of racial brokenness, Christians
nonetheless hear their churches classify
racial issues as “social” issues that take a
backseat to the core work of proclaiming
the gospel. I wish the church would call out
the sin of racial injustice with clear convic-
tion, pointing us to the Christ, whose pur-
pose was to create one new humanity.
—Daniel Hill, Founding and Senior Pastor of
14
HOW TO BUILD AN UNMOVABLE FOUNDATION FOR YOUR LIFE.
River City Community Church and author of The storms of adversity are a part of life. It’s not a question of if they’ll
White Awake: An Honest Look at What come, but when. When you’re blindsided, are you sure your anchor
It Means to Be White will hold fast? In Standing Strong, Dr. Stanley identifies the most
foundational truths about God and His Word, and reminds us that our
THE OPIOID CRISIS IN AMERICA is a troubling
essential beliefs about life issues will make all the difference. When
pro-life issue nobody’s talking about. If we
care about unborn babies and seeing lives our convictions are based on the rock-solid foundation of God’s
saved, we must also care for children enduring promises, we can stand strong with unwavering confidence
affected by drugs. Likewise, increasing no matter the circumstances.
numbers of kids have entered foster care
because they’ve suffered abuse at the hands
$19 usd
of their parents, many of whom are dealing
with addiction. So if we’re going to say we’re
pro-adoption and pro-foster care but are
not dealing with some of the underlying
issues, we’re missing an opportunity. Drug
addiction affects our communities. Every-
one can tell you a story about families that
have been ripped apart because of it, so if
we want to uphold human dignity, we can’t
neglect this issue. It affects our broken
world in more ways than we realize.
—Phillip Bethancourt, Executive V.P. of the
Ethics and Religious Liberty Commission and
Assistant Professor of Christian Theology at
The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary
I DON’T LIKE BEING CRITICAL of the church,
because there are many congregations out
there that are hitting on all cylinders. How-
ever, I think all believers need to do a bet-
ter job of engaging with Scripture. William
Lane, the man who discipled me, talked
about the disciplined use of the imagina-
tion. What he meant was that we should do
our homework and understand the cul-
tures, history, geography, and languages
used in the Bible. But we need to use that
knowledge in a way that empowers people
to engage with Scripture on their own. We
try to cross all the T’s and dot all the I’s
ourselves rather than trust the power of
God’s Word to do the work. Jesus is a very
ILLUSTRATION BY DAN FORSTER
compelling person, and if we do our best
to present who He really is, people are
going to respond.
—Michael Card, award-winning
singer-songwriter and author of John:
The Gospel of Wisdom
1-800-980-0020 | INTOUCH.ORG/STANDINGSTRONG
5/18/18 10:10 AM
 FA I T H | W O R K S
Dangerous Places
I thought all the spiritual minefields were outside of me. I was wrong.
BY JAMIE A. HUGHES ILLUSTRATION BY JOHN HENDRIX
 RAISING ADOPTED CHILDREN
can sometimes feel like walking
across a minefield. The sun may
be shining and the grass verdant,
but beneath the surface there
are hazards beyond number.
Seemingly mundane things—a
certain brand of candy, a famil-
iar place, a song on the radio—
can trigger memories in our
boys, and these recollections
must be safely “detonated”
through conversation and active
listening. There is no skirting
these dangerous places; the
hurt only grows worse through
avoidance. As parents, we have
T H O U G H T F U L FA I T H . D E V O T E D L I V I N G .
ITM-124_08_FaithWorks_FINAL2.indd 16-17
the sacred task of helping them
process their loss and come to
terms with what they suffered
at the hands of those previously
charged with their care, people
they love and miss despite many
grievous failures.
We knew a challenge like this
was coming weeks before they
moved in, the first time we read
their adoption dossier, in fact. It
was, to say the least, spiritually
and emotionally taxing. Dos-
siers contain the notes of every
case manager who has over-
seen a child’s care (often sev-
eral individuals, since burnout
16
is common and turnover high).
They include a family history as
well as reports and evaluations
by law enforcement officials and
medical experts. All the details
are filed away in tidy columns
and checklists, and the clinical
nature of such documents has
a way of sanitizing things, mak-
ing it easy to overlook phrases
like “suspected drug abuse” and
“chronic homelessness.” But
each phrase is explosive, and the
shock waves continue to ripple
outwards—even into the lives
of people who become a part of
their story after the fact. That is
certainly true for me.
Our sons’ dossier is ripped
and crinkled in various places
where I read something that
compelled my hands into fists.
I’ve read certain sentences
aloud, hoping for some reason
that they would become less
awful in the hearing. They
rarely did. And the dismay
didn’t fade after multiple read-
ings, either. I even highlighted
passages, transforming them
into kaleidoscopic scars on the
page, and the marker in my hand
became as malicious and dan-
gerous as a Pharisee’s stone.
(See John 8:1-11.)
Every story has to have an
antagonist—a villain, the person
on whom blame rests—and in
the tale I was weaving, the boys’
birth mom fit the role perfectly.
What kind of woman could
neglect her child’s medical needs
like this? I would ask myself.
Who could continue making
such awful choices, knowing
she was hurting her kids? Over
the next few months, my anger
crystallized into a spear, and I
aimed it directly at her heart,
this woman I did not know.
When the boys arrived, they
came with a colorful assortment
of challenges and developmen-
tal delays, some of which were
unavoidable challenges of biol-
ogy. But far more were caused
by poor medical care, sporadic
school attendance, and a lack of
My anger crystallized
into a spear, and I aimed
it directly at her heart,
this woman I did not know.
safety and structure. The sheer
amount of work before us was
staggering, and though I’m not
proud to admit it, my anger
turned to wrath. I wanted to
ride into the story like an Ama-
zon warrior from Themyscira,
decked out in gleaming armor,
sword drawn and eyes blazing.
This kind of failure, this sin,
required justice, and I was more
than willing to dole it out. Christ’s
admonition—“Do not judge so
that you will not be judged. For
in the way you judge, you will be
judged; and by your standard of
measure, it will be measured to
you” (Matt. 7:1-2)—was nowhere
17 INTOUCH.ORG
on my self-righteous radar.
And then came “The Day.”
My older child’s left hearing
aid was broken, and I had no idea
where to get it fixed. My younger
son had had a particularly rough
day at school, causing the prin-
cipal to call me in for a confer-
ence. Our case manager had
dropped in for a visit and stayed
so long waiting for me to fill out
the paperwork I’d forgotten that
I was late getting dinner on the
table. We were all tired, hungry,
and at the end of our rope. In one
day, the well-oiled machine that
was our life exploded, sending
parts flying in all directions and
filling the house with smoke.
I lost it. I screamed, slammed
things, railed, and shut myself
away in a closet to sob.
Even with all the Continued on pg 18
5/18/18 10:11 AM
 FA I T H | W O R K S
resources I have—an education,
employment, reliable transpor-
tation, a house in a good neigh-
borhood, food on the table,
medical insurance, friends to
lend a hand—it is still challenging
to care for our boys. How had she
managed it for a few months, let
alone years? I wondered, wiping
my nose with a shirtsleeve. Sure,
my family had been poor when
I was growing up, but I’d had a
mother and father who loved one
another, a stable home life, and a
safety net.
When my husband and I were
first married and struggling to
make ends meet, my grand-
mother told me, “Baby, we won’t
let you get in a mess. If I have to
scrape the bottom of the bar-
rel, I’ll split it with you.” It had
always been that way. When
trouble came knocking, my fam-
ily went to the front door to
answer it together. That kind of
certitude has a way of shaping
a person. It undoubtedly gave
me a different perspective and
helped me to make decisions
with the long game in mind. My
boys’ birth mother had few or
none of those advantages. Sure,
she’d made poor choices—I’m
not trying to excuse her by any
means—but ignorance and des-
peration, rather than malice,
accounted for many of them.
In the opening lines of The
Great Gatsby, narrator Nick
Carraway says, “In my younger
and more vulnerable years my
father gave me some advice that
I’ve been turning over in my
mind ever since. ‘Whenever you
feel like criticizing any one,’ he
told me, ‘just remember that all
the people in this world haven’t
had the advantages that you’ve
T H O U G H T F U L FA I T H . D E V O T E D L I V I N G .
ITM-124_08_FaithWorks_FINAL2.indd 18-19
I was holding my sons’
birth mother accountable
for not being me, for not
making the choices I’d been
taught were right.
had.’” Nick heeds this wise coun-
sel, but until I got knocked in the
dirt, metaphorically speaking,
I’d forgotten it. So much of my
highbrow morality wasn’t the
product of amazing virtue or
Christian character, but divine
providence. I was holding my
sons’ birth mother accountable
for not being me, for not mak-
ing the choices I’d been taught
were right. But how could she
have known without someone to
guide her, to help her get ready
for adulthood the way my par-
ents had done for me?
As I sat in a dark closet in a
puddle of self-pity, an even more
surprising truth finally dawned
on me. My anger had really been
some pathetic attempt to erect
18
a wall, a flimsy paper privacy
screen between me and the fact
that, with a few changes to our
respective situations, she and I
weren’t so different. And with
that realization, my anger evap-
orated, and it became impossible
for me to hate her any longer.
Am I still exasperated at
times? Certainly. Is she the
source of my frustration? Often,
without a doubt. But I’ve crossed
the battle line to stand with her,
this woman I may never meet but
who gave me two of the greatest
joys of my life. We’re still walk-
ing that minefield, but we’re
making progress. And thankfully
a bomb in my heart—perhaps
one of many—has been disarmed
for good.   inthedim.
LYRIC ESSAY
IN THE DIM by John VandenOever
T
HE MOON HANGS LOW as the sun sleeps, my teen-
age son due at work in 10 minutes. But the engine
doesn’t sound when I turn the key, only a patch-
work of lights on the instrument panel. I crank again
into another failure. So we ferry our things to my
wife’s car, and drive away as the cost of repair settles on me.
When we arrive where my son works, he opens his door and
the December air bites—just as I was warming up. “Lord, help
me,” I say, as my son walks past. The world in hibernation as
I bullet along quiet roads. God, look at me, I think, a doubt-
ing fool, acting as though You hibernate, too. So I pray, “Help
my unbelief” and troll the downtown streets, squinting at the
dim parking lots. An odd little spot behind the Marriott with
a self-service box and an early-bird rate. Then a mistake—a
man I think is the lot attendant. “Help me,” he says, just out of
jail and homeless, in need of only nine dollars. A simple story,
and yet I don’t understand. From his back pocket he unfolds an
official-looking document, but I’m not reading, only consider-
ing the words, Give to everyone who asks. And since I’m asking,
seeking, knocking, trying to believe, I retrieve my
wallet and he takes the cash. Where the money
will go, who knows, but in the dark morning I
AU DIO
Listen to the writer
think about my lack and this man who lacks more.
read his lyric essay So before he goes, I put my hand on his shoulder. I
at intouch.org/
bow and say, “Lord, help us both.”
19 INTOUCH.ORG
5/18/18 10:11 AM
 FA I T H | W O R K S

the catechisms developed by the His providence, birthed us into

Reformers and subsequent tradi- unique families and communities.
INSTEAD OF FAITH to better embed themselves in
our lives. We need newer and
tions. But catechism can refer to But there is also a way in which SHAPING OUR WORLDVIEW, deeper rhythms of prayer and
anything that smacks of formal the rituals and habits that form OUR WORLDVIEW OFTEN meditation. We need better
training. It’s what we are doing our hearts can be harmful—a
when we teach the Bible to our way in which the fallenness of our
SHAPES OUR FAITH. questions to help us participate
in the Spirit’s renewal of our
children, take them to Sunday influences shapes our thinking souls. We might ask: What does
school, or enroll them in Awana and behavior. this Bible passage say about the
or other methodical Christian Perhaps this happens most way I see the world? What are
instruction. It’s what we are acutely in how we are tempted to how formative this is? That potential blind spots, shaped by
doing when we encourage them idolize, rather than respect, our every hour we are being shaped my culture and tribe that this
to establish a quiet time of prayer heritage and use it as a kind of by reports of current events and scripture might expose? What
and Bible study. secular creed. An unhealthy nos- immediately begin sequester- friendships can I cultivate to
As adults, we (hopefully) con- talgia can overcome us, making ing ourselves into tribes based help me gain a more expansive
tinue to seek formation through us long for eras and days much on how we see and hear that view of the world?
weekly sermons, small groups, rosier in hindsight than in real- information? Of course, these are not ques-
Bible studies, online courses, ity. For Christians, this in many This catechesis is happening tions to ask ourselves just once.
books, and podcasts. And we ways goes against how God to Christians who regularly go to Realize there is a daily fight for
are also catechized in other less forms His followers into a new church and who likely consider our souls and our minds: The
visible, but no less formative, family with a new creed. themselves constant students of pull of digital distraction and the
ways. James K. A. Smith refers Or sometimes it’s not mis- the Word. We don’t even realize strong temptation to be yanked
to this as a “secular liturgy”—the placed nostalgia but the comfort that the daily reading, process- away from the gospel toward
rhythms, habits, and relation- of our tribal preferences—ways ing, and commenting on the news tribalism will never fully go
ships that subconsciously form of thinking and believing that is, in and of itself, a kind of reli- away until Jesus returns.
us: what we consume, where we might be antithetical to how gious exercise. This is why there But this is the life of a Christian
live, how we’re brought up. For God seeks to form us through can be such a striking disconnect in the world. We are sojourn-
example, I was born a plumber’s His Spirit. Adopted and learned between what we say we believe ers and strangers in a strange
son in Chicago, which means habits subconsciously work on Sunday and what we confess land. We will always be tempted
my personality and view of the against our Christian sanctifica- on Facebook on Monday. This to accommodate ourselves to
world were formed by the cul- tion. Perhaps this is most obvi- is why, instead of faith shaping earthly movements. But sojourn-
ture of the Midwest (not overtly ous in the way we process the our worldview, our worldview ers and strangers should be a lit-
Invisible Teachers friendly, but loyal and nice). As a
result, I admire blue-collar work
daily news, especially in this era
where content is so deregulated
often shapes our faith. The lit-
urgy of cable news or Twitter is
tle uncomfortable in any earthly
movement. Wherever you land
and have a Midwest vibe, even and ubiquitous. We’ve always more powerful than the broken on the political and social spec-
The forces that shape—and reshape—our faith though I now live in the South. been influenced by prominent rhythms of our religious life. trum, you should not feel at
Or consider the way our musical voices, but today it seems eas- So how do we remedy this? home in your party. You should
BY DANIEL DARLING PHOTO-ILLUSTRATION BY MLC preferences were formed by the ier to adopt a worldview that The first and simplest answer always guard against ways you
era in which we lived or the par- conforms to whatever makes is to both limit and diversify are tempted to press your faith,
tialities of those around us. We us comfortable. Plus, we are our media consumption. That’s like Play-Doh, into the image of
either conform to our parents’ inundated with news at a fre- easy for me to write on paper. It’s the cultural movement you most
 GROWING UP , I rarely heard the word catechism. If it was used, it opinions, beliefs, and taste, or we quency unseen in any other era much harder to break away from easily identify with.
was likely dismissed as “something Catholics do.” Once, during some- rebel against them. Either way, of history. Every second, if we my digital shackles. After all, we are Jesus people,
one’s testimony about coming to faith, I remember hearing the state- we are being formed by what choose (and sometimes if we First, to be intentional about kingdom people. We don’t look
PHOTOGRAPH BY RYAN HAYSLIP

ment “I learned my catechism wouldn’t save me.” In one way, she was we’re exposed to. don’t), we’re alerted to some kind guarding our hearts means we back at some mythical golden era
right. Rote memorization of doctrine doesn’t get anyone into God’s Much of our cultural catechesis of brokenness somewhere in deliberately seek to break the or forward to some movement
kingdom. But there is a way in which such practices do redeem us. consists of traditions worth cele- the world, and then are barraged ingrained habits warring against we believe will save us. No, we
Catechism is a fancy word for “formal instruction.” Specifically, brating. These are a beautiful part with the corresponding range of our souls. Second, and perhaps look upward and onward, antic-
catechisms are a series of questions and answers about core doctrinal of the diverse tapestry of human- opinions that follow. even more importantly, we must ipating that city whose builder
issues. If you have any familiarity with them, it might be from some of ity, a product of how God has, in Have we stopped to consider allow Scripture and theology and maker is God.  

T H O U G H T F U L FA I T H . D E V O T E D L I V I N G . 20 21 INTOUCH.ORG

ITM-124_08_FaithWorks_FINAL2.indd 20-21 5/18/18 10:11 AM

 FA I T H | W O R K S
Say It,
Show It
A conversation with Paul Borthwick
on being a true witness
BY JAMIE A. HUGHES  see a live report from a village
PHOTOGRAPH BY
MATT KALINOWSKI
 THE BIBLE HAS MUCH to say
about the importance of giving
generously, caring for people
in need, and defending the vul-
nerable. The Christian faith
isn’t one that can be lived at
arm’s length, but in our mod-
ern culture, it’s easy to detach
from the sufferings of others—
consciously or unconsciously.
We spoke with Paul Borthwick,
co-author of The Fellowship of
the Suffering: How Hardship
Shapes Us for Ministry and Mis-
sion, to better understand how
exercising great compassion
helps us carry out the Great
Commission.
JAMIE A. HUGHES: You say that “Chris-
tians sometimes try to live
a one-handed lifestyle, but a
complete Christian lifestyle
requires both hands.” Could you
elaborate on this?
PAUL BORTHWICK: We are followers of
Jesus Christ, so our lives must
include the verbal sharing of
our love of Jesus, how we’ve
been forgiven and redeemed.
T H O U G H T F U L FA I T H . D E V O T E D L I V I N G .
ITM-124_08_FaithWorks_FINAL2.indd 22-23
But we also have to live it
out. Jesus shows us what this
looks like. He preached the
gospel but also demonstrated
it by His healings, by the way
He touched poor people. He
reached out to Samaritans or
Gentiles. His demonstrated life
was actually the foundation for
His preached life. Lesslie New-
bigin said, “Do your work in
22
such a way so as to stimulate
questions for which Jesus is the
answer.” In other words, your
non-verbal witness is part of
your overall witness. The way
you treat people in poverty, the
way you treat your neighbor,
the way you look out for some-
body’s concerns beyond just
yourself—that has great poten-
tial to point people to Christ.
You admonish people to
JAMIE :
“stay soft.” People can be soft for
a season, but how can we stay
this way? Practically speaking,
what does this look like, and
what’s the value of it?
PAUL : It’s a great challenge
because, in many respects, we
are deluged with needs. We don’t
just hear about a hurricane; we
being destroyed. So it’s easy for
us to get apathetic. The word
apathy doesn’t mean you don’t
care. It means you don’t feel.
We get so desensitized to seeing
this flood, or this earthquake,
or this refugee camp that even-
tually it doesn’t bother us any-
more. And so the challenge is to
try to stay soft. For me, it means
praying, “Lord, help me to see
people in front of me, whether
it’s on TV or in my daily life. Help
me to see them the way You see
them” every day. Most of us are
exposed to way more needs than
we can possibly answer, but we
do have an avenue to express our
concern by talking to God.
You say that the world
JA MIE :
isn’t made up of statistics—
but of people who have names.
How does knowing someone’s
name keep us from getting
desensitized?
PAUL:The Bible tells us that God
knows our names; it means we’re
not just some sort of unidenti-
fied statistic in the great mass
of humanity. So we should try
to emulate that great love. It’s
the reason I encourage Chris-
tians to “go into their closet and
pray the way Jesus commanded”
because on almost every piece
THE WORD APATHY
DOESN’T MEAN YOU
DON’T CARE. IT MEANS
YOU DON’T FEEL.
of clothing, a tag tells us where
it was made or assembled. Chi-
na’s in your closet; India’s in your
closet. Buddhist countries, Hindi
countries are there. When you
realize that that shirt or those
slacks or that blouse was made
by another human being, it
becomes your connection point
to him or her. You can stop and
pray for the person who made
your shirt. We have to take a
very depersonalized world and
make it more personal.
You’re a proponent of
J A MIE :
maintaining an ongoing pos-
ture of learning and discovery.
How does this help us be more
compassionate?
PAUL: We get global news in 20
minutes, and as a result, every-
thing is oversimplified. Going
a little bit deeper into an issue
helps us understand more. The
word disciple actually means
“student.” The world is vast. The
world is complicated. And there
are a lot of things that tend to
divide us. The only way we can
bring those things together is
to do our research and strive to
understand both sides of stories.
JAMIE: Our society is focused on
getting more. However, you
23 INTOUCH.ORG
believe that we should simplify
our lifestyles instead. How can
we, as you put it, “live more
simply so that others can sim-
ply live”?
PAUL :In Proverbs 30:8-9, the
writer says, “Give me neither
poverty nor riches; feed me with
the food that is my portion, that I
not be full and deny You and say,
‘Who is the Lord?’ Or that I not
be in want and steal, and profane
the name of my God.” In other
words, he’s praying for a sense
of balance. If your credit card
has mastery over you, if your
addiction to Starbucks has mas-
tery over you, something needs
to change.
JAMIE:Christians serve out of a
desire to do good in the world,
but if we aren’t careful, we can
do great harm. What do we need
to know in order to avoid hurting
those we’re trying to aid?
PAUL: Americans tend to be very
generous sometimes without
thinking. We’re what Robert-
son McQuilkin calls “Zacchaeus
givers.” We give impulsively,
without asking, “Is this the
wisest way to do it? The most
efficient way? Will it be sus-
tainable?” Those are questions
that need to be voiced. Also, we
need to make sure we’re giving
out of compassion rather than
sympathy or pity. Compas-
sion literally means “to come
alongside of; to suffer together
with someone.” When you give
compassionately, you join with
people because you realize that
except by the grace of God, you
might be in the same situation
they’re in.  
5/18/18 10:11 AM