Growing Together (Friday Devotional)

So Christ himself gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the pastors and teachers, to equip his people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ. 

- Ephesians 4:11-13

Periodically, Facebook will automatically generate a post from the “Memories” section at the top of my feed, ensuring that I see an old post from 2, 5, even 10 years ago. And given that a sizable majority of my posts feature family photos, that means the algorithm is usually reminding me of that unavoidable parental reality: my kids are getting older.

Faces once defined by chubby cheeks have thinned. Newborn and 18 month outfits have been donated or stored in the attic. My babies became toddlers, then became kids. And before I know it, they’ll be teenagers. That, as I often remind Lindsey when she despairs at how big they’re getting, is how time works.

Growth is a part of life—as nice as it might seem to remain in one stage of development, you have to progress to the next. And hopefully with age and its accompanying experiences comes maturity as well, growth that is spiritual, emotional, and intellectual, not just physical.

What is true for a person is true for the church too—a body of believers is intended to grow together in faith, in unity, and in knowledge of the Lord. When you worship, serve, evangelize, pray, and read the Bible with your fellow Christians, you are changed by the experience. As individuals and as one body, you mature in your faith together.

There’s a nostalgia that we all feel about certain stages of development, whether we’re looking at family photos or church directories. But even as we remember the good ol’ days with fondness, we can also rejoice at the ways we have grown. You’re more mature today than you were yesterday—and by the grace of God, you’ll be even better tomorrow.

Biography and Eulogy (Friday Devotional)

For consider your calling, brothers: not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God.

- 1 Corinthians 1:26-29

One genre of literature I enjoy reading is biographies. To write these, historians spend months, sometimes years, poring over primary sources and interviewing relevant figures to understand their subjects as fully as possible. Then, over a few hundred pages, they give readers the highlights of people’s lives: the biggest decisions and most important moments that explain who they were and why they matter.

An alternative way to synthesize someone’s life is through a eulogy, usually given at someone’s funeral. In some ways, eulogies are similar to biographies; both seek to sum up a life. But where biographies tend to focus on accomplishments, eulogies are more personal. Rather than pointing to the big moments that a biography would highlight, eulogies are all about little moments—small acts of kindness, meaningful points of connection, small stories that illustrate a larger narrative.

The world encourages you to find your identity in your biography: your achievements, your accolades, your moments in the sun. These, we are assured, are the things you will be remembered for. And maybe that’s true for the presidents, pro athletes, and business titans you find in the library’s Biography section.

But for most of us—those whose only published biographies will be the obituaries our families write—those biographical elements will be secondary. It’s the characteristics highlighted in the eulogy that will stick. Did people know you cared about them? Did you give of yourself to help others? Did you point people to Jesus?

In a world so focused on the biography, maybe Christians can be the ones focused on the eulogy. Following the lead of a Lord who spent most of his earthly ministry pouring into a mere 12 disciples, we could focus less on mass impact and more on the personal touch. Believers can be the ones with the perspective to know what matters in the end: not what you accomplished, but how you lived.

Chances are, none of what you do today will make your biography. But your eulogy is up for grabs—with every interaction you have today, what will you add to it?

Buttered Noodles and Kind Words (Friday Devotional)

Anxiety weighs down the human heart,

    but a good word cheers it up. 

- Proverbs 12:25

A few nights ago, Lindsey had plans with some friends, meaning I was responsible for making dinner for me and the kids. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea here—my “cooking” amounted to whipping up some buttered noodles for Katherine and Isaac and a few quesadillas for me and Andrew. Nobody was winning a Michelin star here.

Nevertheless, when Katherine took a bite of her dinner, her eyes lit up. “Daddy!” she exclaimed. “These are SO GOOD! You’re like an expert at buttered noodles!”

At first, my reaction was to brush off the compliment, to look at it as proof of just how low the expectations were for my cooking. But as I watched her happily gobble down her meal, I have to admit: I appreciated the praise. I hadn’t done anything big or special—but it was still nice to be appreciated.

Sometimes we underestimate the value of encouragement. We know to thank people when they do something really momentous. We set aside special occasions—anniversaries, birthdays, etc.—to recognize people for how they contribute to our lives. But in the day to day, the little things just go by without comment.

In the New Testament, we see how important it was for those in the early church to encourage one another. Facing everything from poverty to persecution, a spirit of brotherhood was crucial to maintain their gospel witness. Led by people like Barnabas, the so-called “son of encouragement,” they kept each other going not only with the strength of their conviction, but with consistent kindness.

It may feel silly to praise someone for doing what they always do, or to thank them for something that barely even qualifies as a favor. But don’t lose sight of what a blessing your encouragement can be to them in that moment. For someone you love, even buttered noodles are worthy of a kind word.