In Spirit and Truth

"My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me." —John 10:27 Last week, we spoke about the place God's voice takes in our lives. It is a topic that has stuck with me all week, perhaps more than any previous article topic. As I reflected on last week’s homework, Examine the voices in your day, both the voices of people, and of habits (e.g. How loud is the voice of your computer or TV compared to the voice of God?). Examine and set priorities based on your desire for the Shepherd’s voice in your life, the question that embedded itself in my mind was, "Where is your pasture?" It's such a simple question, yet it is heavy with connotation. The first question it raises is one of shepherds. Who or what am I letting shepherd me? Is it the TV Guide? Is it the Blogosphere or Facebook? Is it my favorite author? When I have a moment of free time, whose is the first voice I seek to help me fill it? I find myself, too often, following a different shepherd. To cl

"He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice. They will not follow a stranger, but they will run from him because they do not know the voice of strangers." —John 10:3b-5 There are those people who call us — our parents, spouse, children, friends — whose voices we instantly recognize. I answered the phone this past week and heard a familiar "hey friend," on the other end. It was the voice of one of my best friends. I recognized her voice, because I have heard that voice countless times over the last 13 years. That phone conversation started me thinking about the voices we recognize, and are comfortable with. There are those voices, like the voice of my friend, that you may go months without hearing, but are somehow able to instantly reconnect. There are the voices, like the voice of my parents, that you hear a couple of times a week. Then there are

"Sing praises to God, sing praises; sing praises to our King, sing praises. For God is the king of all the earth; sing praises with a psalm." —Psalm 47:6-7 I have some fairly lofty ideas. At 6:00 p.m. On the evening of December 20th, I want to see the choir loft full! I want to see 50 people between the ages of 13 and 113, who are willing to offer their voices in praise to God at Christmas. I understand that the thought of singing in a choir can be a little intimidating. After all, you get all dressed up and sit with a large group of people, maybe next to someone that you don’t know, and then you have to sing. But allow me to give you a different perspective. Every Sunday, you are a choir from my perspective. I look out and see a large group of people, all dressed up, sitting next to people they may not know and singing. The only difference is location! Some think that since they can’t read music, they can’t be in choir. I’d say, if they can’t read music, they’ll be in good c

"I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another." —John 13:34-35 My son Israel looks just like his mother (I tell people, it's ok, because I was partial to her looks to begin with). Israel got my eyelashes, and I'm pretty sure that's it. In fact, I saw a t-shirt a couple of years ago that I've been tempted to buy for him because of its message: "I look like my mom, but I act like my dad." I eagerly anticipated Naomi's arrival, wondering if maybe this time my image would be reflected in her little face. No such luck. Naomi got my fingers, and not much else. She looks just like her brother. You can tell that those two are siblings. They could be twins if they were a little closer in age. I have this mental image of God in a maternity ward. Looking over his children, trying to see if any look li