We’ve just walked through the 18th anniversary of Victoria’s week with us on this earth (February 28–March 4, 2008). Our goodbye with her stands as a holy experience for us to this day at the intersection of heaven and earth. Our hope remains . . .

There are other goodbyes in our story to people and places that have shaped us as a family. One such goodbye was our family’s move to Pucallpa, Peru in 2014. We said goodbye to our Lancaster County family, church, and community, with a new life in Peru ahead of us. Little did we know that in 2019, we would say goodbye to our redemptive family, church, and community in Pucallpa, Peru to move to Valparaiso, Indiana. I still remember gathering in our living room with Kristin, Caleb, Jacob and Rachel to pray right before we left our Peruvian home. My prayer started with tears.

Tears accompanied these gut-wrenching departures, because the deep relationships, memories of life shared, hardships overcome, and goodness of hope experienced in each place overwhelmed us. In Acts 20, we read how Paul and the elders of Ephesus experienced such a tearful and agonizing goodbye (vv 36–38). I imagine the scene as the Ephesian leaders “were accompanying him to the ship,” remembering precious and personal moments for us shared with those who accompanied our family to our packed van or to an airport check in as we prepared to set off on our journey.

Leavings in life also shape our perspective. Where we now lack daily interaction with dear friends with whom we once shared life, we hold onto a vision of sharing together in His presence, a hope contained in the promise of a new heaven and new earth. It stands out to me that Paul’s letter to the Ephesians represents this grand vision of ultimate fulfillment, in both the cosmos and the community of Christ’s Body, the Church. Closely held community for Paul helped to cultivate the expansive vision that is his letter to the Ephesians. It raises the questions—How might lack of community hinder our perspective and lack of vision hinder our connection?

When we moved to Peru, the Lord put on my heart that Pucallpa was like an “Ephesus” for us. One expression of this is how it has shaped our perspective and hope for redemptive family. Twelve years since first moving there, a return visit is now on the horizon. This March 6–15, I am accompanying my son, Caleb, and his college soccer team on a trip to serve children in the region through soccer clinics. By God’s grace, upon returning from Peru, I look forward to exploring further Paul’s hope expressed in Ephesians. May we keep discovering together the hope of our cosmic calling as Christ’s Church.

Genesis 2:15 – “Then Yahweh God took the man and caused him to rest in the garden of Eden to cultivate it and keep it” (LSB, emphasis added).

From the beginning, rest has included good work. How can we experience rest while cultivating and keeping goodness in our Good Shepherd’s pasture?

The American Psychological Association has provided examples of seven types of rest, indicating that “a multi-faceted approach to rest is key to restoring energy levels and improving your ability to function.”*

Below I’m adapting and applying examples of these seven types of rest to redemptive family realities:

Physical rest: Keeping margin in our scheduling and not overscheduling.

Mental rest: Providing times for renewing our minds together by receiving the Word and wisdom through testimony, prayer, teaching, and reflection.

Emotional rest: Keeping our communication free of obligation that feels heavy, speaking right things at right times to right people.

Social rest: Kind interactions that focus on refreshing and encouraging one another in the Lord, even and especially when facing relational and life challenges.

Sensory rest: Tasting and seeing God’s goodness through the beauty of creation.

Creative rest: Connection and collaboration that features each one’s voice, and permissions that protect each one’s power.

Spiritual rest: Safe pasture that is secure attachment to our Good Shepherd.

May we continue in pasture living that reflects such holistic rest in these ways and many others!

*Seven types of rest to help restore your body’s energy by Ashley Abramson, based on the research of Saundra Dalton-Smith, MD

Our family dog, a beagle, specializes in smelling. I enjoy watching her walk around with her nose to the ground, completely focused on tracking a scent. When we lived in Indiana, I remember taking her on a walk, and she was tracking some deer who had crossed the path. Eventually we came upon a group of deer standing beside us, but our beagle did not see them because she would not lift her head, keeping her nose to the ground.

Here are a few lines from Denise Levertov’s poem, Overland to the Islands, describing a dog’s “intently haphazard” way of following a scent:

Under his feet

rocks and mud, his imagination, sniffing,

engaged in its perceptions—dancing

edgeways, there’s nothing

the dog disdains on his way,

nevertheless he

keeps moving, changing

pace and approach but

not direction—‘every step an arrival.’ (publisher: Jonathan Williams, 1958)

In Eugene Peterson’s biography, we learn how his life reflected this poem:

     “The imagery spoke to him so deeply because he had been that dog for decades.

     His life and work had been more like tracing a scent than following a map.

     Discovery, not direction . . . Eugene had never truly mapped his future, never

     tried to lay some ordered path toward a clear career goal. Intent? Sure. But

     haphazard too. The whole meandering journey had been a dog sniffing the wind,

     the next whiff being the only real clue. And what has been the scent? Holiness?

     The Presence?” (A Burning in My Bones by Winn Collier, 60).

This experience also describes our life and ministry, including joyful arrivals at discoveries in God’s victory by His grace from week to week and month to month. As we begin 2026, may we keep finding and following His scent of tov (Hebrew word for “good”).

Families that live together become familiar with another. Familiarity can mean joy, trust, and security, but it could also result in a casual or even unhealthy way of relating. Consider the behaviors of a household both with and then without the presence of visitors. If being on our best behavior with a guest then defaults to an ongoing disconnected, dismissive, or disrespectful pattern without, the familiarity of living together has become insecure.

Redemptive family of our Father consists of joy, trust, and security in living together. However, over time a very serious threat can develop for those living in the church—familiarity can become insecure. This may present itself in a range of behaviors and attitudes, including but not limited to a sense of entitlement, contempt, or irreverence. Where first love once flourished, bitterness can take root.

When the Word became flesh in the first century, the religious leaders of Yahweh’s people succumbed to their unhealthy familiarity instead of a hospitable welcome of the Messiah. Sadly, they cannot say they were not warned of this very serious threat.

Malachi had warned them. And Malachi still warns us today. I’ve been reading his oracle, or burden.

This Advent, let’s consider Malachi’s burden for the condition within the household of faith. Does our life in the church reflect joy, trust, and security, or has familiarity led us into something short of our Father’s first love for us in Jesus?

Malachi’s last word in the Old Testament prepares God’s people for the first Word revealed in the New Testament. Many living among and familiar with the family of God have missed the advent of Jesus then and now. Through Malachi, the Father calls for us to examine our shared presence to understand the true condition within. Through this Advent remembrance, let’s learn to return to Him from irreverence, treachery, and robbery. May we discover anew what it is to live with him . . . together.

Kristin and I recently met a new friend who shared with us her and her husband’s story, beginning from the brink of separation decades ago. But then they met Jesus, here in our Hershey area at a conference in the hotel where he worked. All these years later, their story tells of God’s faithfulness to and through them as He sent them to serve Him in distant lands. They had returned, and he has now entered the Lord’s presence after illness. She was by his side the whole way. After such a long obedience in marriage and mission, her gratitude radiated through her grief in sharing their story with us, anticipating what’s ahead with God’s anointing that remains on her. We delighted in Him together!

All those years ago, a now elderly neighbor on our street spiritually adopted them as a couple and nurtured them in their young faith. She had recently returned to visit this neighbor of ours, and through mutual friends from another town, learned that we lived on the same street as this neighbor. Our mutual friends came from out of town and picked her up at our neighbors and brought her up the street to our house!

So we found ourselves together at our table, and prompted by our mutual friend, Kristin and I then told our new friend our story of God’s victory by His grace in His beautiful servant and our daughter, Victoria Grace. After our sharing, our new friend summarized what she was hearing with what she and her husband heard from God many years ago in what Jesus said to Paul on the road to Damascus—He has appointed us as “servant and a witness” (Acts 26:16). A servant belongs to Him (being), and a witness is sent by Him (doing). Again, we delighted in Him together!

Lately, I’ve again sensed a kind of first-love stirring to be and to do as His sent ones (servant and witness) from our neighborhood to the nations. Some of the deepest delight I’ve experienced in this journey has surrounded the understanding and application of sending, both His and ours (consider the mutual delight of Jesus and His followers in the report they bring back after He sent out the 70 in Luke 10:17–21)!

May we delight in Him together, living as sent ones that “pray earnestly to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into His harvest” (Luke 10:2).

The Apostle John was considered “the disciple whom Jesus loved” (John 13:23; 19:26; 20:2; 21:7; 21:20). His Epistles of 1, 2 and 3 John each emphasize walking like Jesus walked (1 Jn 1:6–7; 2:5–6; 2 Jn 6; 3 Jn 3–4). To walk like Him is to love like Him, and His walk of love differs from other ways of walking in love.

First, the love John teaches connects to “the beginning,” a repeated reference in his letters (1 Jn 1:1; 2:7; 2:13–14, 24; 3:11; 2 Jn 5–6). Interestingly, the beginning is also a reference to wisdom in Hebraic thought in the time leading up to and during the NT (Kugel, Traditions of the Bible). John draws on themes from the opening chapters of Genesis as a beginning (light vs. darkness; obedience vs. the sin of the devil; and Cain vs. Abel). Even more, he anchors to the beginning of Jesus the Word in the flesh, who walked among them, and obedience to His commands. Any walk of love that boasts a different beginning than Christ Himself leads down a deceptive path.

Further, the love that John teaches never walks alone. We often recite John’s identification that God is love (1 Jn 4:8,16), and that’s not all—John also adds that He is life (1 Jn 1:1–2); He is light (1:5); and He is truth (2 Jn 1–2; see also Jn 14:6). Walking in love also means the life of walking in the light and the truth. If we wander off in love without light and without truth, we’ll get lost without life.

May we always aim to walk in love through our service to others. This means walking in love that is tethered to Jesus, the beginning and true wisdom, which also means never walking in love alone without also walking in life, light and truth. For God is life, light, truth, and love.

Wisdom is He.

This statement stumbles grammatically, but it speaks of revelation that human wisdom cannot achieve or understand. Human-developed artificial intelligence generates this evaluation of the statement: “The phrase ‘wisdom is he’ is not grammatically correct in modern English. ‘Wisdom’ is an abstract noun, not a person, so it cannot serve as the subject of a sentence in this way. The correct pronoun . . . is ‘it.’”

However, the Old Testament and its related writings shaped the Hebrew community’s imagination of wisdom personified. Wisdom appears before creation, by the Creator’s side, and works with Him (see Proverbs 8:22–31). Wisdom keeps, guards, exalts, honors, and is life for those who love and prize her (Prov. 4:4–13). Wisdom invites seekers to come to her, carry her yoke, and receive the rest she gives (Sirach 6:23–31; see also 24:19–21; 51:23–27).

The imagination of wisdom meets its incarnation when the Word who was in the beginning, was with God, was God—became flesh and pitched His tent among us (John 1:1,14). Unlike seekers and teachers in Israel’s history, Jesus did not invite people to come to wisdom, carry her yoke, or receive her rest. Rather, He said:

  “Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Take

  My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and

  you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.”

  (Matthew 11:28–30, LSB, emphasis added)

Wisdom is He.

A stumbling block and foolishness to many, “but to those who are the called . . . Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God” (1 Corinthians 1:18–25).

Let’s continue to learn from Him together. There is much learning, counsel, and intelligence in the world, but much of it does not come to wisdom. Wisdom is He, who says to us: Come to Me . . . take My yoke . . . learn from Me (Matthew 11:28–30).

Years ago, I taught what I was taught about believing and behaving—that our beliefs drive our behaviors. Yet if it was that simple, why did I see so many who seemed to believe rightly but behaved badly?

Years later, based on more learning about formation from biblical theology, neurotheology, and experience, I now teach from what I also see of how our sense of belonging shapes our believing and behaving.

To the point, consider how people around the world subscribe to the particular religion of their people group and place. Belonging to a people and place shapes beliefs and behaviors. The concept of culture expresses this. One’s tribe constitutes its cultural norms, like values, communication processes, language, societal structures, meaning, play, and purpose. In other words, which tribe a person belongs to shapes which beliefs and behaviors develop.

There is a wisdom of belonging that manifests throughout creation, from the one flesh of the man and woman to the various kinds of animals, fish, birds, and plants. As Solomon directed hearers to observe the ants in order to gain wisdom (Proverbs 6:6–11), we can also observe other groups in creation for insight.

So let’s consider the wisdom to be gained by observing a beehive. The whole hive belongs to a single queen, with each bee behaving (i.e. working) in all ways loyal and coordinated. And how do new hives form? When a queen and her bees leave the old for the new.

Wisdom from the beehive metaphor rings true for our belonging and behaving in alignment with true believing. May we so discover how to believe in Him together—belonging to one Lord, practicing one faith, and leaving the old for the new through one baptism.

There is one body and one Spirit, just as also you were called in one hope of your calling; one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all who is over all and through all and in all.

(Ephesians 4:4–6, LSB)

It’s the season of fireworks! Fireworks shine brilliantly in the skies, with spectacular colors and combinations—but then disappear with only smoke remaining, until that too fades away. No matter how long the show, and how great the finale, it comes to an end. In contrast, let’s look at the continuous light from the stars of the sky along with the sun and the moon, which God created on Day 4 to “give light on the earth, and to rule the day and the night, and to separate the light from the darkness” (Gen. 1:14–19, LSB).

Fireworks fade, and stars remain. Human-made lights come to an end while God-made lights keep shining. Here are just a few scriptural references to experiences and expectations of human image bearers compared to stars:

• Abraham looks at the stars to believe the promise of Yahweh, “So shall your seed be” (Gen. 15:5).
• Daniel received word that in the resurrection “those who have insight will shine brightly like the brightness of the expanse of heaven, and those who lead the many to righteousness, like the stars forever and ever” (Dan. 12:3).
• John sees the Son of Man holding seven stars (the angels of the seven churches) in His right hand and standing in the middle of the seven lampstands (the seven churches; Rev. 1:9–20).
• Paul instructs the Philippians how to “shine . . . as stars in the sky” (2:15).

On the last point, how is it that they can shine like stars? Simply put, Paul directs them in the preceding verse, “Do all things without grumbling or disputing” (v 14). Consider the opportunities we have to wisely accompany others, especially in the midst of complaints over relational, organizational, and societal fireworks. How can we come alongside others and aim towards righteousness (see the Daniel reference above)? In so doing, may we ourselves and those we serve shine like stars in the sky, reflecting the Light that both precedes and outlasts the stars!

“I don’t really have a testimony”—I’ve heard this sentiment from many, but the truth is that each person’s life represents a unique story of image bearing. Some stories include a turning point, a before and after line in following Jesus. Other stories reflect a consistent growth of believing in Jesus from a young age. Sadly, some stories still do not acknowledge Jesus. Yet each person reflects a particular, by-name story. Even more, every redemptive family collectively testifies of Him together!

Many testimonies feature one of the big six emotions: sadness, anger, fear, shame, disgust, and despair (Jim Wilder, The Other Half of Church, 66). When hearing of another’s weakness and Christ-led correction, like a life turning to joy from such burdensome emotion, we learn from example and strengthen connection (147). Wilder emphasizes the importance of testifying together: “stories have the effect of treading a path between a big emotion and joy . . . connecting all our emotions to joy is done primarily by storytelling, not by teaching” (190–191).

Moses represents one of the greatest teachers in the story of God’s people, being responsible for the first five books of the Old Testament. Beyond his teachings, His example through the story testifies of strength . . . but also weakness. His last teaching before dying, in the form of a song that he proclaimed to Israel (Deuteronomy 32), features a remarkable revelation tied to his moment of great weakness with the big emotion of anger.

In Numbers 20:1–13, Israel again found themselves without water in the wilderness, and like they did around 40 years earlier (Exodus 17:1–7), they contended with Yahweh. Though Moses was instructed by Yahweh to speak to the rock to bring forth water, Moses struck it twice with the rod, speaking to the people instead. Water did indeed flow, but Moses’ failure to treat Yahweh as holy at the rock meant he himself would not enter the promised land. In Moses’ last song, what metaphor does he employ to testify of Yahweh and “what I have learned”?—”The Rock!” (Deut. 32:2,4). After stumbling at the rock, he reveals Yahweh as the Rock throughout his final song (Deut. 32:4,13,15,18, 30–31,37).

We all have experiences of weakness in stumbling over the rocks of big emotions. Through repentance, how might we testify together not of ourselves but of turning to Jesus, the one Paul identifies who “was the rock” in Moses and Israel’s story (1 Corinthians 10:4)?