Right now, something I’ve been hearing for ages is turning out to be more shallow than I had previously believed. We’ve all probably heard at some point that we live in a time where we are more connected than ever. But now that it’s recommended that we socially distance ourselves from one another to prevent the spread of COVID-19, we can feel how devastating and lonely it is when we are not physically interacting with others in community.

We are always our own worst critic. When it comes to our job, our roles in life, or our appearance, we always find something to critique.

Imagine you're meeting someone new for the first time. You are having a conversation and getting to know one another. You may say something the other person does not agree with or may find odd. They may be secretly judging you, or worse, they are judging not so silently.

Arch Books, The Story Bible, Follow and Do, Growing in Faith, and Portals of Prayer for Kids—all of these titles are children’s books and resources that are used to foster the knowledge of Christ in children twelve and under. Maybe you’ve bought some of these books for your own children. Maybe it was just last week. Or maybe it’s been a long time since you’ve had little ones in need of spiritual nourishment. So, what do you do with books you no longer need? Or with books you simply no longer need to hold onto? Below are a few ideas to consider.

“I want to do something that matters,” Jack said as we were having coffee at the local shop. Jack is a twenty-year-old college student who began to attend our church recently. I hosted a college meet-up in our local coffee shop, and we were talking about what we were looking forward to in the coming year. Our group almost collectively, as if on cue, lowered their gaze and nodded almost imperceptibly in acknowledgment of Jack’s comment. I asked the small group if they felt like they had done something meaningful in their lives so far. At first, there was silence, which rang so loudly in my head. Then, Corinne said the classes she was taking were somewhat meaningful, but she felt an itch to do something deeper that excited her.

As our group talked through their hopes and dreams for the new year, it was tough to let go of Jack’s comment. Each of the young adults agreed on some level—almost as though each of them was hoping for a significance that they felt they lacked. I prayed a quiet prayer.

Friday, January 24, 2020, marked the 47th annual March for Life in Washington, DC. Each year, hundreds of thousands of men, women, and children walk in protest through Capitol Hill on the anniversary of Roe v. Wade, the Supreme Court decision that legalized abortions across America. This year’s march theme focused on the 19th Amendment, which gave women the right to vote in 1920.

My husband and I have been married for 19.5 years. That .5 is worth noting, based on the shape of our last year.

The truth is, while the lyrics are terrible, Pat Benatar got pretty close—love (in marriage) is a battlefield.

For me, 2019 brought nearly every major life change a person can encounter condensed into a short amount of time. We moved, bought a house, my husband began his first call, we had a baby. In the midst of those big things, I was surviving by abiding. I was learning what it meant to abide in Jesus when I felt as if I couldn’t string two coherent thoughts together at any given moment. I was learning to accept and extend more grace for myself than I ever thought possible. It was Gospel living at its most extreme. Now, we are done moving, the baby is six months old somehow, and we are settling into a new routine. It’s good. This new routine brings with it some breathing room, some space to not just survive but to strive.

His heart was racing, beating like a rabbit running for its very life. His mind was like a browser with too many tabs open, and he couldn’t seem to focus on anything. He knew he was overwhelmed, and the thought of doing one more thing was literally terrifying. How had it come to this? Wasn’t this stage of his life supposed to be the best yet? He was beginning to think life was full of lies and competing messages, each louder than the one before. He felt incredibly alone and sad. The only option seemed like sleep, or at the very least, Netflix or YouTube—anything to escape his own head for a while.

Dating is tricky and very complicated. There are a lot of factors to take into consideration. There are so many ways to meet someone these days: online, through an app, by speed dating, being set up on a blind date, and more. From there, though, you are talking to a complete stranger. Many people gauge dating potential by physical looks, charming character, or a great sense of humor. But what about the person’s religion? Does that have any effect on your dating decisions?

About a month ago, my husband and I were talking after our post-dinner devotions. I was telling him how I felt like I was lacking in my faith walk—like I was going through the motions, saying that things between God and myself were good when in reality, I was treating Him more like a friend who I’d lost touch with (but still loved very much).