Four Lifegiving Messages Following Four Sadness Journeys

One final takeaway from Richard Rohr’s The Tears of Things was this: Sadness is a journey to be embraced and valued.

Rohr’s connecting sadness as the avenue the prophets took to move from anger to compassion painted this reality. Sad is not something to “not be.” Instead, sadness is a normal, valid, and, therefore, valuable emotional journey to be completed, to be processed. If the journey isn’t taken, a compassionate life may never be found.

Following Rohr’s teaching, here are four lifegiving outcomes from the sadness journeys of four Old Testament prophets:

Isaiah wrote this after a sadness journey over social injustice:

But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. – Isaiah 40:31

Jeremiah shared this after his sadness journey over covenant breaking:

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” – Jeremiah 29:11

Habakkuk declared this after his sadness journey over suffering caused by evil:

The Sovereign Lord is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, he enables me to tread on the heights. – Habakkuk 3:19

Zephaniah promised this after a sadness journey over abandonment of God’s ways:

The Lord your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing. – Zephaniah 3:17

CHALLENGE: Think back to the completion of your sadness journey. What lifegiving message do you now have? Where could you share it? Who might be in need of it while they go through their sadness journey?

Photo by Ingo Doerrie on Unsplash

How Anger Can Lead to Compassion

My biggest takeaway from Richard Rohr’s The Tears of Things is an overall view of the Old Testament prophets that looks something like this:

Anger>Tears/Sadness>Compassion

Each prophet had a thing they were angry about, either themselves or on God’s behalf. Just that thought alone is oddly comforting. Anger is normal. No matter whose, mine or God’s. Being angry is part of being human. And for those who believe in being created in the image of God, that equates to it’s part of being God.

However, by the end of their writings, or at least woven in them, is a message of the loving nature of God. The prophet, speaking from their heart or God’s, shares the truth that their audience is loved. Somewhere along the way, anger has turned to compassion (more on that journey in the next post).

How? How does an angry person become compassionate?

One way the prophets do this is by letting truth step into the anger. Such as…

  • God’s heart is for all people, not just those that look or act like me (Jonah).
  • People’s actions don’t have to dictate my reactions to them or God (Jeremiah).
  • Disorder is normal. It’s in need of some holiness, which can start with me (Ezekiel).

Once the prophets embrace the truth of the situation from God’s viewpoint, they are moved to pursue the available redemption. They show compassion by…

  • Not withholding love from anyone (Jonah).
  • Forgiving and living peacefully with those who wrong them (Jeremiah).
  • Breathing life everywhere they go, even in places that appear lifeless (Ezekial).

Easy? No

Possible? Yes

If you’re stuck in anger, consider asking God for truth to enter your heart that could make way for redemption.

Photo by Trnava University on Unsplash

Hard, Shadowy Love

(A final word from Paul E. Miller’s book A Loving Life)

Part three, “Learning To Think in Love,” contains the most challenging yet helpful direction, particularly chapter 19. In describing discovering God on the journey of love, Miller digs into two main thoughts: the shadowy presence of God in our lives and the need to embrace the hard things in life to live out love.

God’s presence in the book of Ruth mirrors his presence in our lives. It is subtle. He doesn’t leap out like he did with Moses and the plagues in Egypt. If God regularly showed himself like he did at the Red Sea or the resurrection, there would be no room for relationship…By staying in the shadows, at the edge of the story, God creates the need for faith and thus intimacy. The hiddenness of God builds our faith muscles.

A practical illustration of how we live this out is in conversations. Living in the shadows looks like staying small, deliberately on the edge so others can emerge and come alive facilitated by our humility.

Not easy. Particularly in conflict or when things aren’t going as planned or expected. Ruth and Naomi’s journey was filled with hard.

Ruth discovers God and his blessing as she obeys, as she submits to the life circumstances that God has given her. So instead of running from the really hard thing in your life, embrace it as a gift from God to draw you into his life.

May we discover God on our 2026 journey of love.

Photo by Semyon Borisov on Unsplash

The Other Side of Waiting

Alone in the flames

Looking only at the blaze

I wished to just burn

You stayed, shielded, healed, heard, forgave, whispered

“You will rise from the ashes

Smile again

Stand without shame

Sing again

Look back in wonder

Run again

Raise your head toward heaven

Praise again

Remember who you are

Believe again

Forgive your oppressors

Trust again

Gaze with compassion

Love again

Speak words of peace

Bless again

Serve your neighbor

Breathe again”

This is resurrection

This is abiding

This is the other side of waiting

Photo by Elisabeth Arnold on Unsplash

Have Mercy

In the same podcast episode mentioned in “How Long,” the speaker’s second focus on praying the Psalms was confession.

He mentioned the few occasions that the Psalmist penned the phrase, “Have Mercy, O God.” The most familiar of these is Psalm 51 by David.

This song is my effort to capture these eight verses:

Have mercy on me, O God,
    according to your unfailing love;
according to your great compassion
    blot out my transgressions.
Wash away all my iniquity
    and cleanse me from my sin.

Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean;
    wash me, and I will be whiter than snow.
Let me hear joy and gladness;
    let the bones you have crushed rejoice.
Hide your face from my sins
    and blot out all my iniquity.

10 Create in me a pure heart, O God,
    and renew a steadfast spirit within me.
11 Do not cast me from your presence
    or take your Holy Spirit from me.
12 Restore to me the joy of your salvation
    and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me.

Who Else

This is a newer worship song by Gateway Worship

Lyrics

I am an instrument of exaltation
And I was born to lift Your name above all names
You hear the melody of all creation
But there’s a song of praise that only I can bring

Who else is worthy? Who else is worthy?
There is no one, only You, Jesus
Who else is worthy? Who else is worthy?
There is no one, only You, Jesus

You are the infinite God of the ages
Yet You chose to make my heart Your dwelling place
You healed my brokenness, showed me Your glory
So I have songs of thanks not even angels sing

Lamb of God, anointed one
Who was and is and is to come
Seated on the throne above
Holy, Holy
Righteous one who shed His blood
You proved to us the Father’s love
Jesus Christ be lifted up
Holy, Holy

Source: LyricFind

Songwriters: Abbie Gamboa / Josiah Funderburk / Zac Rowe

Who Else lyrics © Capitol CMG Publishing

The Wisdom of Stability, Part 1-Roots of Love (book review)

Reading while traveling last weekend I gained a broader definition for stability thanks to Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove. His book, The Wisdom of Stability, affirmed and challenged me, leaving me with this evaluation-I’m decently stable, but there’s always need for growth.

It’s important to point out what Hartgrove is addressing. He’s not talking about the need for emotional regulation or mental wellness. In simple terms, he shares a message of valuing staying put, committing to less wandering, and acknowledging “there comes a time to set seeking aside,” as Kathleen Norris states in her foreword.

Example: I overheard someone this morning describing the makeup of three fantasy football leagues they’re active in. One is made up of college friends; another is made up of childhood friends. Possibly without intention, this person is practicing stability in a way that many of us aren’t.

To practice stability is to learn to love both a place and its people. -Chapter 4, “Roots of Love”

Hartgrove uses trees to explain in chapter four. His analogy rings true, especially for those living where I do. Last year’s hurricane season wreaked havoc. Ask those who live where I moved in April. The community lost over a third of its trees. Why? Their roots couldn’t withstand the winds.

The chapter title, “Roots of Love,” comes from a thought by Benedictine Anselm of Canterbury, a twelfth-century monk who compared a restless monk to a tree. “If he often moves from place to place at his own whim, or remaining in one place is frequently agitated by hatred of it, he never achieves stability with roots of love.”

One temptation in the face of agitation is to flee (more about temptations in part two). Hartgrove challenges us to accept this goes against one reason we were made-to intimately share life with our landscape and its people.

How else can we learn the attention that is needed to really know a community? How else would we ever gain the patience that is required to care for a place over time?

Friday, I chose to go inside Chick-fil-A for lunch rather than hurry through the drivethrough. Not many other customers made the same choice, so the hostess had few people to chat up. She chose me as her customer to get to know. She asked a pretty standard question for non-Floridians, “Did you grow up in Florida?” I have to honestly answer that with a no. But when I say I’ve lived in Florida since 1986 and in this area since 2002, the reply is usually something like, “Well, you might as well have.”

More than once my seeking has tempted me to move on.

More than once, I’m reminded that God is wiser than me. With his wisdom comes stability, and with that stability comes wisdom.

Keep Looking

Father

I looked for you today

In the drizzling rain

In the psalmist’s lyrics

In a believer’s curiosity

In a mourner’s heartbreak

Son

I looked for you today

In a partner’s forgiveness

In an artist’s healing

In a woman’s pain

In a dreamer’s frustration

Spirit

I looked for you today

In a grandpa’s tears

In a friend’s question

In a pastor’s story

In a buyer’s decision

There you were

Everywhere saying, “Keep Looking”

Photo by Erik Mclean on Unsplash

Monks, Nuns, and Celibacy

I listened to Kathleen Norris’s book The Cloister Walk this week. Fascinating.

A highlight was Chapter 13, an honest look at her 10 years of relationships with celibate men and women.

In them the strengths of celibacy have somehow been transformed into an openness that attracts people of all ages, all social classes. They exude a sense of freedom.

She acknowledges her own struggle to understand how this can be, yet rejects culture’s prejudice take on reasons for celibacy.

As celibacy takes hold in a person over the years, as monastic values supersede the values of the culture outside the monastery, celibates become people who can radically assess those of us out in the world, if only because they’ve learned how to listen without possessiveness, without imposing themselves. With someone who is practicing celibacy well, we may sense that we are being listened to in a refreshingly deep way. And this is the purpose of celibacy. Not to obtain an impossibly cerebral goal mistakenly conceived as holiness, but to make oneself available to others, body and soul. Celibacy, simply put, is a form of ministry.

Natural tendency is to reject what we don’t understand or aren’t willing to be open to accept as necessary.

Ministry is a choice.

Availability is a choice.

Listening is a choice.

Our obedience to God’s choices for us won’t always be understood or accepted by others. Jesus actually told us to expect this to happen, to follow calling, to be about the Father’s work.

It’s necessary for transformation, for freedom.

Be strong in your obedience. Your body and soul will thank you. So will other’s.

Photo by Nikhil Singh on Unsplash

Attached to God (book review)

Last Fall I read Krispin Mayfield’s Attached to God.

I wrote one post about a lament exercise he outlined, but I never offered my thoughts about the whole book once I finished. Today, I finished rereading it. Time to share.

I’m a little obsessed.

My hunch is that anyone wishing to understand or improve their relationships with humans and with God would also believe Mayfield delivers on the subtitle’s promise of a practical guide. His effort to breakdown attachment science then connect it to one’s relational experience with God produces clarity and hope for any breakdown to be restored.

Of all my highlights, here are three to whet your appetite.

Distance happens in all relationships. (Chapter 1, “The Still Face of God”)

A friend of mine recently made a self awareness by saying, “I guess I live in a fantasy world.” I’d say that’s true for many professing Christians in regards to their beliefs about how close they are expected to feel to God at all times. Mayfield argues human relationship with God is like our other relationships-distance happens.

I was in my 30s before I fully accepting this truth. Many close friends moved and distance happened. It’s normal. That doesn’t provide comfort or easy acceptance, just normalcy. Learning how to respond to distance in a secure way is worth the effort, for you and for the relationship.

Information doesn’t change your beliefs, experience does. (Chapter 4, “Shutdown Spirituality”)

When religious folks get their head around this one, attachment shifts. And it’s a struggle. Why? We are programmed that attending church or a study group is the sole means of establishing beliefs. Any transparent pastor or counselor would most likely agree with Mayfield. They’ve seen how experiences affirm or alter beliefs, in their own lives and in those they serve.

From my experience, this has definitely played out the last 15 years for me. Traveling to other countries, visiting other denominational churches, and dialoguing with Christians on the other side of all kinds of aisles has made me check my beliefs. And yes, some have changed.

In any authentic relationship, there’s room for real talk. (Chapter 10, “The Risk of Trust”)

When people describe what the younger generations are looking for in their attachment to religion and God, the word authentic comes up regularly. I believe age doesn’t matter; we all hunger for it. This 57-year-old does.

RECOMMENDATION: For all your attachment seasons, secure or insecure in any relationships including God, this book deserves space in your library.