Originally posted on Facebook on Thursday, January 29, 2026.
In Week 5 of 52 Weeks of Gratefulness, I give thanks to God for Mary's daughters.
What you see in this picture is who I'm married to—a woman who is fearless, independent, and able to do anything.
When we were in college, even before we were dating, I remember Melissa asking me if I would help her with a blown taillight. I had never been so excited to do manual labor in all my life!
Because I knew that she didn't *need* me to do it, but she wanted me to. It was a privilege.
She could have definitely done it on her own. She can do anything.
And, she's largely that way because of her mother, Mary Harris, who wouldn't let anything get between her and getting it done. I see that in all of the Harris women—a quiet fierceness, a strength and beauty that evokes awe and respect.
I count myself privileged to be married to one of Mary's daughters.
I'm grateful.
In loving memory of Mrs. Harris whose birthday is this Sunday, February 1st.
Originally posted on Facebook on Sunday, January 25, 2026.
To those who call themselves Christians and consent to the deaths of Renée Good and Alex Pretti, and argue that the agents acted within the law, to decide the taking of a life on the basis of what is permissible by law is a woefully low bar.
That is not the standard of the Kingdom.
Jesus is the standard.
He was sent in love and came that we may have life, not to destroy it (John 3:16, 10:10, Luke 9:56).
It is important to note that America is not the Kingdom and it is important not to conflate the two. Notwithstanding, the Kingdom operates within every place that disciples of Christ are, and those places should be healthier as a result.
That is not what happened in the killing of Renée Good and Alex Pretti.
I will resist you doing what is counter to Christ in Christ's name. Fruit is how we discern (Luke 6:44).
Originally posted on Facebook on Friday, January 16, 2026.
In Week 2 of 52 Weeks Of Gratefulness, I give thanks to God for a pause.
We're on a four lane highway and traffic comes to a stand still on both sides as far as the eye can see. But this wasn't because of an accident or construction. It was voluntary—a statement of solemn solidarity as our funeral procession made its way to the cemetery.
I've always appreciated this courtesy, but even moreso today.
When someone loses a loved one, especially someone that was a key fixture in their life, their world stops.
I liken it to a bustling city with thousands of people busy going in different directions carried about by the varying business of the day. In the middle of that mass, someone's suffering a crisis—someone's dying, but no one takes notice, no one stops, and everyone keeps moving on.
I was talking about this with my Dad at the funeral. We were discussing the sort of paralysis, a state of denial, and another kind of death that loss of a loved one can bring to those left behind. But, as my Dad said, "The reality is the birds keep singing, time keeps passing, and the world moves on. It doesn't stop."
And that is cruel.
But we can change that.
We can transform an otherwise bleak reality by bringing kindness and compassion into it.
We can help someone shoulder the soul-crushing weight of the world by embodying four simple words:
"You are not alone."
And this can be conveyed by a gesture as simple as acknowledging that someone's world has stopped and taking a pause to stop with them.
In doing so, we become a kind of bridge—the way back from the dead to the land of the living.
That's what these people on the highway did for our family. It inspires me to be that for others.
Originally posted on Facebook on Monday, January 12, 2026.
The worst thing you can do when you find yourself in the court room being cross-examined by Satan is to start competing in the my-good-outweighs-my-bad game, spelling out all the "good" I've done that proves I'm not as bad a person as the current circumstances suggest.
The Accuser will eat you alive because he's cool, calm, collected and has receipts, while you have your memory that you're struggling to recall as you're being emotionally hijacked by the attack, a memory that's being picked apart, challenged and whose credibility is being called into question. It's a losing proposition.
The only move is to run out of the courtroom and come before the King. To appeal that I am not here as a defendant but as a dependent. I am not here as a random citizen but as His child who needs compassionate correction.
Oh, what amazing grace!
God, already achieving justice through His Son (2 Corinthians 5:21), has made it so my failures are not fatal (Romans 8:1). I can come boldly (Hebrews 4:16), being completely honest, confronting everything that I ever did (John 4:29, 1 John 1:9) because the Father is committed to my well-being as His child (John 10:10, Philippians 1:6).
That is what Jesus achieved for everyone who will accept it.
Remember that next time you find yourself in the courtroom.
"Let us therefore come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need."
— Hebrews 4:16
"Behold what manner of love the Father has bestowed on us, that we should be called children of God! …"
— 1 John 3:1
Originally posted on Facebook on Sunday, January 11, 2026.
Earlier this week, we put my dear Aunt Lesley to rest. During the proceedings, there were a lot of overly religious platitudes that rang especially hollow.
I guess that's partly because Aunt Lesley wasn't overly religious, but it was mostly because I know I hadn't loved my Aunt, Uncle and Cousin like I should.
It's been more than 10 years since I've seen them and they're just on the coast (fewer than 300 miles away). As my cousin and I were catching up, I was saddened to hear how they had been struggling alone.
I can talk about the Light all day, but I need to do a better job of carrying it. What good is talking about the Light, if the hearers are left sitting in the dark?
Light exposes. It allows us to see things for what they are. However, that alone can leave us jaded and cynical. This is so common that we have a euphemism for it: "the ugly truth".
But there's something more to the light that Christ claimed to be and that we as Christians are called to carry. It is a key distinction between other variants of "light" or "truth".
The Light of the Son not only exposes, it gives life.
"In Him was life, and the life was the light of men."
— John 1:4
So, we not only see things for what they are, we carry capacity to bring life to it—a whole other dimension of dynamism, potential and hope. That's the "beautiful Truth" and is exactly what I received when the Light was carried to me.
Light is received when photons move. We are the photons of Christ, and His love propels us.
"For the love of Christ compels us…"
— 2 Corinthians 5:14
Funerals are always sobering. This one exposed how I could do a better job being present for people I say I love.
I repent.
By God's grace I will do a better job of carrying the light to my sphere—what has been given into my care—to nurture life and health in it. It starts where I am, my household, and works its way outward.
Then the words are not hollow, they're given flesh, made substantive, and have real meaning.
Originally posted on Facebook on Tuesday, January 6, 2026.
Today I was reading the passage in Acts where Peter encounters the beggar outside the temple. What struck me was that Peter looks at the man, sees his need, and begins with, “Silver and gold I do not have…” Then he said, “but what I have I give you…”
Acts 3:6
Then Peter said, “Silver and gold I do not have, but what I do have I give you: In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk.”
Peter doesn’t stop with religious words or posture. He lifts him. Peter engages the man in a tangible, experiential way.
Acts 3:7
And he took him by the right hand and lifted him up, and immediately his feet and ankle bones received strength.
It formed a picture for me of how we are meant to engage: not merely through religious gestures or declarations (thoughts and prayers), but by meeting need with what we have, in the name of Jesus, and then lifting—putting material effort behind what we say we believe. The question this leaves me with is simple: when we pray, or do any other religious thing, do we lift?
Peter then responds to the people who witness this miracle by directing their focus to Christ.
Acts 3:12
So when Peter saw it, he responded to the people: “Men of Israel, why do you marvel at this? Or why look so intently at us, as though by our own power or godliness we had made this man walk?”
He names Jesus as the Prince of Life and is careful not to embezzle any of the glory. It made me wonder whether this is why God honored the gesture, why power was given in the moment, not to elevate Peter, but to affirm Christ.
Acts 3:15–16
and killed the Prince of life, whom God raised from the dead, of which we are witnesses. And His name, through faith in His name, has made this man strong, whom you see and know; yes, the faith which comes through Him has given him this perfect soundness in the presence of you all.
That phrase, “perfect soundness”, followed by the title of the Prince of Life, connected something for me. Ministering life is about making whole. This is certainly what Christ does for me, and to have faith in Him is to have faith that lifts.
Originally posted on Facebook on Sunday, January 4, 2026.
The way we sometimes pray can be like setting the GPS and then laying down, hoping to wake up where we're supposed to be.
But GPS works when I receive the directions it gives and I move based on the information it provides.
The GPS of prayer has only one destination: Christ, reflected in us individually and collectively—the coming of God's Kingdom. (Luke 11:2-4)
When His Kingdom comes and His will is done on earth as it is in heaven, we have arrived.
I'll have a much more productive prayer life when I approach it for what it is, move as it guides me and accept the destination: Christ. (Romans 8:29-30)
"Not that I have already attained, or am already perfected; but I press on, that I may lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus has also laid hold of me. […] I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus."
— Philippians 3:12,14
Originally posted on Facebook on Friday, January 2, 2026.
A dear friend of mine, who is an unbeliever, shared an observation of how Christians seem to respond to the problems facing our world.
She said,
"The problem is all people want to do is pray…"
She's not wrong.
Now, before we start attempting to rationalize and absolve ourselves of guilt, it was obvious to me that this was a generalization and not an absolute. Clearly there are many Christians that do much more than "just pray" and dutifully serve our community.
The fact remains however, that there are so many instances of this being true that it gives reason for the generalization to even exist. Christians collectively bear a responsibility, we should hold each other accountable, and I'm exclusively dealing with instances when the claim is true.
Too often it IS true that all people want to do is "pray" which reveals two key failures:
– a fundamental misunderstanding of the nature of prayer
– and an abdication of Christ's endowment and the purposes for which it was given.
We are called to rule well. We were put in the garden of the nations of the world to care for it. As the Father sent Jesus because He loves the world, Jesus sends us (John 20:21). We were given power for the world to encounter the Kingdom, not to sit in a pew.
Prayer is not a shopping list to get what I want. It is a strategic alignment session so His Kingdom will come, that His will may be done—not ours. Prayer is a meeting where I should be seeking God, what He is doing, and how He wants to use me. If nothing changes after a meeting, it was a wasted meeting.
The problems the world faces are because the thief comes to steal, kill and destroy, but Christ came that they may have life and have it more abundantly (John 10:10), and we are His vessels.
Prayer puts us on the same page and prepares us to perform His good pleasure.
Originally posted on Facebook on Sunday, December 28, 2025.
Every so often I find myself in the wilderness, in difficult spots where things are not going the way I would like, and there I'm being asked whether I'd switch up on God (forsaking everything I accept as right and good) to get my way.
The wilderness is inevitable. Everyone is either going into it, in it, or coming out of it. Understanding this helps us to avoid getting stuck there by answering the actual question at hand: "Will I forsake God?"
Never forget that when you overcome such a temptation Satan only departs "until an opportune time". (Luke 4:13)
So, be sober and vigilant, beloved. Because our adversary walks about as a lion, seeking whom he may devour. (1 Peter 5:8)
Originally posted on Facebook on Sunday, December 28, 2025.
An inheritance is something you receive after someone has died. Asking for it beforehand is not only reckless, it suggests, "I wish you were dead".
Before the son even engaged in prodigal living, he was guilty of offense against the father by demanding his inheritance.
However the father did not curse his son out or condemn him, but he allows his son his choice.
Why?
Could it be what the Father did was in hope?
Could it be that in his loving wisdom he looked many steps ahead and did the only thing that would allow his beloved son to truly come home?
What a master class in parenting and love.
It challenges me to expand my view of parenting and correction beyond coercing them to conform but to create the conditions necessary for me to receive them.
This begins with righteousness, love, and mercy at home.
Without righteousness there is no way for the son to recognize, "I have sinned **against heaven** AND before you." (Luke 15:18)
Without love there is no way for the son to recognize that people are treated well and nurtured there, "[Even] my father's hired servants have bread enough and to spare…" (Luke 15:17)
Without mercy there is no way for him to expect to be received, "I will arise and go to my father…" (Luke 15:18)
The father does this not once, but twice. He shepherds another son who is just as astray as his brother though he never left the house. He ministers to him in a different way that reaches him and meets him where he is. (Luke 15:28)
What's clear for both however, is that the father wants them both together with him (Luke 15:31-32).
