Easter and Our Unanswered Questions

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media] 


Will I ever get better?

Why did my little sister have to die?

Which college should I choose?

Why do so many other people get to have happy marriages?

When will I finally get a job?

We all come to God with questions. Some of them are big and will seemingly never be answered in this lifetime; some are seemingly smaller, yet frustrating all the same. It’s tempting to approach Easter with its flowers and candy and Easter eggs and simply say, “Jesus rose from the dead! All is well!” And in a cosmic sense, Jesus’ resurrection makes that statement true, but in our day-to-day lives it often doesn’t seem that way. 

Photo Credit: Marko Horvat

Which is why we turn instead to a different resurrection--that of Lazarus. Because to get to a resurrection, first there must be a death. When Lazarus died, his sisters didn’t understand how this had happened. Their friend Jesus was the miracle-working Son of God, yet Lazarus not only fell terribly sick, but died and was buried for four days before Jesus himself finally arrived. It’s not surprising that Martha had a few choice words for Jesus when he arrived, starting out their conversation with, “‘Lord,’ Martha said to Jesus, ‘if you had been here, my brother would not have died.’” 

Martha’s actions here are a good example for us--she didn’t run away from Jesus with her questions, she ran to him with them. She was full of both anger and faith, but both of them were pointed in the right direction--directly toward Jesus. So when Jesus told her her brother would rise again, we can almost hear the resignation in her voice as she responded, “I know he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day.” Jesus didn’t leave it there though. He went on, telling her, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?” 

Even in the midst of her grief over the death of her beloved brother and the anger at Jesus over his refusal to step in and do something to stop it, Martha’s response was that yes, she believed Jesus is who he said he is--the Son of God. At this point in the story, Martha didn’t know what the ending would be. But whatever happened, she knew who Jesus was. Even her anger and frustration and confusion didn’t remove the true answer from her lips. 

Jesus’ question to Martha is the same one we have to answer today and each day we wake up to the brokenness, pain, and confusion we may face. “Whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?”

Jesus didn’t immediately tell Martha he was about to raise her brother from the dead. Martha had to live in the space of death and heartache for a little while longer, and perhaps we may have to as well--for another day, another month, or another lifetime. Yet, a few verses later, Jesus himself wept at seeing the tomb where Lazarus’ body was. Far from being a God who sees our pain and responds with a condescending pat on the head and “It’s all going to be okay,” our God is one who not only wipes the tears from our eyes but cries alongside us. Resurrection may not happen exactly when we think it should or how we think it should. It’s not always instantaneous and it’s certainly not always pain free. But the words to Elevation Worship’s song Resurrecting are, even in the midst of great difficulty, true: 

By Your spirit I will rise

From the ashes of defeat

The resurrected king

Is resurrecting me

In Your name I come alive

To declare your victory

The resurrected king

Is resurrecting me

The resurrecting in our own lives may not happen once and then never again, because God never promised life would be easy. Each time we end up in the ashes of defeat, the resurrecting can happen afresh. And each time, God is right there with us. 


[Brianna DeWitt believes in Jesus, surrounding yourself with good people, and that desserts are best when they involve chocolate and peanut butter. She writes about faith, growing up, and whatever else pops into her head on her own blog, and tweets (largely about food) at @bwitt722.]

Giving Your Google Calendar to God

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media] 

Google Calendar is one of my favorite inventions. Anytime I’m at a computer or have my phone with me (so, pretty much always) I can see my schedule for days, weeks, and months ahead and in the past. Thanks my calendar, I can tell you that on December 27, 2014, I saw the movie Into the Woods at 2 p.m., and that I have a gathering with my book club on January 3, 2017. It’s all in my control, and I can plan and schedule my days down to the minute. Yet I have friends who rarely use a formal system of keeping track of what they’re going to do, preferring to remember it in their head or to simply take days as they come, instead of scheduling out trips to the gym like I often do.

Photo Credit: Eric Rothermel

Obviously Google Calendars didn’t exist around the time of Jesus’ birth, yet the characters in the story are excellent examples of people who approached control of their lives in very different ways. In Matthew 2 we read the the story of King Herod, a man who was determined to do anything he had to in order to keep his throne. He controlled his people and his country and wouldn’t let anything change that. So when some wise men came along and started asking about a supposed “king of the Jews,” King Herod did not welcome this news with open arms. Instead, he ordered all baby boys in and near Bethlehem to be murdered, in hopes that this decree would eradicate the new king he had learned of. King Herod lived with a clenched fist, everything held so tightly in his grasp that he was concerned only with his own life and plan and never considered another way.

In contrast, the wise men, who were likely astrologers, were living in a far off land. When they saw the unusual star that eventually led them to Jesus, they set aside their entire lives to listen to the promptings in their hearts telling them to follow the star. They weren’t so set on their plans for the next week or next month that they were unwilling to deviate from their set schedule. Instead, they willingly tossed their plan aside to follow a new one. There was no guarantee of what they’d find on their trek, but they were eager to see if this star they had seen was of the importance they thought it was. Upon finding Jesus, they worshiped him and gladly offered their gifts.

Though we may not like to admit it, it’s easy to become like evil King Herod. I get so caught up in my planning and scheduling that I forget to see where God is breaking into my life and asking me to follow what he has for me instead of what I have for myself. Our culture feeds into this mentality, telling us to be true to ourselves, to do what feels right, and to do whatever it takes to be happy. The call of God is the opposite though. To follow Jesus is to hand over control of our lives because we acknowledge that God’s way is better, even in the times we may not understand his ways.

As we begin a new year, what would it look like to truly give God control of our lives? This idea is often difficult for me, because it sounds good as words we say and even pray, but what it looks like in my actual everyday life can be elusive. Instead of getting caught up in the big picture of what it means to “Give God control of our lives” though, what if we focused on the small, simple acts that make up our lives? How would the way we approach our jobs be different if we sought God’s will for what he wants for us in that place? How would our interactions with our family members, those we see every day and those we see less frequently, change if we committed to seeing them the way God sees them, as people who are deeply loved and valued? How would the way we talk, or the way we schedule our Google Calendar, or the way we shop, be changed if we truly looked for the ways God is present even in those seemingly mundane actions? If we live our lives with hands open to what God has in store, we may be surprised at what we find.


[Brianna DeWitt believes in Jesus, surrounding yourself with good people, and that desserts are best when they involve chocolate and peanut butter. She writes about faith, growing up, and whatever else pops into her head on her own blog, and tweets (largely about food) at @bwitt722.]

When It Seems Like God Lied

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]

There are many promises throughout the Bible.

The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. (Deuteronomy 31:8)

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. (Jeremiah 29:11) 

Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart. (Psalm 37:4)

In our best moments, these verses likely come as a source of deep comfort. When we’re in the middle of difficult times though, having these verses offered as solutions to our problems can be frustrating or even annoying. Does losing a job seem like a plan to prosper us? Do illnesses, failed classes, divorces, cruel bosses, or financial ruin seem like giving us a hope and a future? There are times when God’s promises feel more like lies than truth.

Photo Credit: Chelsea Francis

Isaiah was the prophet who spoke to King Ahaz when his country of Judah was in a messy situation, being attacked by various kingdoms. But instead of listening to Isaiah’s words from God and trusting God to provide, he took matters into his own hands. Ahaz used money set aside apart for God to strike a deal with another nation, even though he had specifically been told not to. His disobedience and lack of trust put in motion the events that would eventually lead to the nation of Judah being exiled. 

It’s easy to scoff at King Ahaz for not believing God would come through, but one of the things that’s difficult for me about the Bible is that all the stories are so close together. We read the story of Isaiah prophesying to King Ahaz about a baby who will set everything right, and we flip a few hundred pages later and read the story of the baby’s arrival. What we miss is all those years in between, when the world seemed to be crumbling and God seemed to be silent. Anyone who originally heard the prophecy, or heard about it from a family member or friend, was long dead by the time the prophecy was fulfilled. Entire generations lived and died in the 700 years between when Isaiah foretold the baby's coming and when the baby was actually born.

But just because the people couldn’t see it doesn’t mean God wasn’t working.

In the Christmas story we find the hope of God’s kept promises, despite what we may be seeing or feeling in our own lives right now. We might feel forsaken, or like God’s plans are actually harming us, or that he’s completely ignoring the desires of our heart despite our delighting in him. There is nothing easy or simple about feeling that way, and we don’t have to pretend like we’re not--God is big enough to handle our frustrations and angst about what’s happening in our lives. At the same time, we can trust his promises. They may not come true in any way we can see today or tomorrow or thirty years from now, but his vision extends far beyond the span of our lives. Henri Nouwen once wrote, “Hope is trusting that something will be fulfilled, but fulfilled according the promises and not just according to our wishes. Hope is always open-ended.” 

The same God who sent his own son as the fulfillment of a 700-year-old promise is working now to fulfill the promises he’s made to us in his word. While not a traditional Christmas song, the words to Elevation Worship’s “Your Promises” are so fitting:

Doesn’t matter what I feelDoesn’t matter what I seeMy hope will always beIn your promises to me

In whatever situations we find ourselves in this Christmas season, may the story of God’s kept promises provide hope we can cling to when we need it most, and eyes to see the ways he is already at work. 

[Brianna DeWitt is a Christmas enthusiast. She believes in Jesus, surrounding yourself with good people, and that desserts are best when they involve chocolate and peanut butter. She writes about faith, growing up, and whatever else pops into her head on her own blog, and tweets (largely about food) at @bwitt722.]

Why God is Better Than Oprah

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]

I’ve sometimes wondered what it would be like to win a massive giveaway, like the kind TV shows do. One of the most iconic giveaways is when Oprah Winfrey gave everyone in the audience their own brand new car, shouting “You get a car, you get a car, you get a car, everybody gets a car!” Recently, John Oliver bought and then forgave almost $15 million of medical debt on his show Last Week Tonight, breaking the formerly Oprah-owned record of World’s Largest On-Air Giveaway. While I don’t know the details of how the attendees for Oprah’s show were picked, I’d guess it wasn’t through a carefully vetted process to make sure each person there had a perfect driving record and could be trusted to take excellent care of the car they were given. From what I can tell, John Oliver and his team didn’t know anything about the people whose medical debt they forgave, whether they were kind and trustworthy people who would appreciate the gift. 

Photo Credit: Hans M

When Jesus picked his disciples, his process was rather unorthodox as well. Instead of scholars or students of religion, he picked ordinary people like a tax collector and fishermen like Peter. These disciples followed Jesus for his three years of ministry on earth.  Traveling together that long, it only seems natural that it became more than just students learning from their Lord and teacher, but friends. Peter, one of those ordinary fishermen, was committed to Jesus, dedicated to sticking with him no matter what happened, and Peter told Jesus as much. It can’t have been completely easy being a disciple though. Many people, especially the religious leaders, didn’t like Jesus much. As his arrest, trial, and eventual crucifixion drew nearer, Peter’s dedication was going to be put to the test.

When Jesus was taken away for trial, Peter began separating himself from the crowd by following at a distance. Had something changed so quickly, and Peter now doubted the true identity of this man he had been following for years? Unlikely. But all of a sudden, associating closely with Jesus would come with a higher cost attached to it than anything Peter had experienced before. To know Jesus was to be consorting with a suspected criminal. When the first person recognized Peter, he backed away from Jesus again, closer to the exit for a quick escape. Yet two more people questioned him, and finally, Peter couldn't handle it anymore, swearing adamantly that he did not know Jesus. Almost immediately, he recognized the severity of what he had done. What kind of sinking, gnawing, pain must that have been, to realize he had denounced his Lord and friend? 

Maybe we don't go so far as to completely renounce knowing Jesus, at least through our words, but if we were to examine our thoughts and actions for the past weeks and months, I suspect we'd find times when we might as well have renounced him. Often following Jesus looks like knowing what we’re supposed to do, but consciously choosing to ignore it or actively making another decision when we find ourselves in the heat of the moment. Realization of our wrongness may strike instantly, or may settle in over time as we think more about what we’ve done. As that happens, it can feel like we’ve disqualified ourselves from loving and serving God. Would he even want us after we’ve messed up so badly? 

God doesn’t work like humans do though. When we hurt our human friends, they may not be so quick to forgive us, but Jesus, fully human and fully God, gave Peter a gift greater than any TV show offering could ever be. Earlier on in his ministry, Jesus tells Peter, “And I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it” (Matthew 16:18). Even after Peter denied Jesus three times, Jesus knew Peter was so much more than his mistake. God never wants to leave us in our mess, but to redeem it. After the resurrection, Jesus asks Peter three times to feed his sheep, and the rest of Peter’s life became an outworking of that as Peter went on to become one of the most instrumental figures in the early church. It was the grace of a second chance, and it completely changed Peter’s life. 

The gift God has given us is worth more than a brand new car or the forgiveness of all our financial debts. He endlessly says to us, “You get a second chance, you get a second chance, you get a second chance!” His second chances never run out, he never gets tired of us and casts us away from him, he never holds our past against us. God still offers the same kind of second chances to us. We are never “so far gone” that God can’t break in and redeem our choices and our circumstances to turn them into something much more beautiful than we could have imagined. 

[Brianna DeWitt believes in Jesus, surrounding yourself with good people, and that desserts are best when they involve chocolate and peanut butter. She writes about faith, growing up, and whatever else pops into her head on her own blog, and tweets (largely about food) at @bwitt722.]

Getting Uncomfortable

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]

High school probably went one of two ways for you. Perhaps those years were gold-tinged glory days that you smile back on with your friends over coffee, or maybe for you, it was the equivalent of being trapped in a den of wolves for four years. Like so many unfortunate others, the latter experience was mine. As an introverted freshman, I had trouble making friends, preferring to curl up with a book while everyone else did whatever it is “normal” teenagers do on Saturday nights. My sophomore year and onward I was seduced into a dark dance with anorexia, and my senior year contained the emergence of Major Depressive Disorder. By the time I reached college, I would look to the heavens and ask if enough was enough. After all of the suffering I had been through, didn't I deserve a break? Hadn't I earned the comfort of a smooth college career and a tranquil “happily ever after?” 

Photo Credit: F Romero

Everyone yearns for comfort, whether it is of a mental, physical, or materialistic nature; it is an instinctual human reflex to avoid pain and seek pleasure. When we are not challenged, however, we have a way of being lulled into complacency, and become numb to God's urging for us to venture out of our safe havens.

Revelation 3:14-22 is a letter from God to the church of Laodicea, with the apostle John as the middle-man. Historically, Laodicea was one of the most comfortable cities in Asia Minor, known for its financial prosperity, luxurious fashions, and excellent medicine. Ironically enough, the city did not possess the most basic of all human needs: a water source. When we slip into the apathy of worldly comforts, we may have an abundance of food and a secure job and a house in a safe neighborhood, but if we do not seek Christ, the living water and indeed, the most basic and crucial of human needs, what good is our cushy lifestyle?

God tells the church of Laodicea: “So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you from my mouth. You say, 'I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.' But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked.” (Rev. 3:16-17). This might seem harsh at first glance, but our God always speaks in a perfect balance of grace and truth: “For those whom I love, I rebuke and discipline.” (Rev. 3:19). While God certainly hates to see any of us miserable, the Scripture warns us of how physical comfort can breed spiritual stagnation. Perhaps in our own eyes we are prosperous and knowledgeable, but spiritually we are stumbling fools, naked and blind.

If Christ were to walk into our church today, undoubtedly the assessment would be that we are mirroring the mistakes our brothers and sisters in Laodicea made centuries ago. We are far too comfortable: in our material situations, in our interactions with each other, and in our deeply entrenched beliefs. Our financial security hinders us from taking unnecessary risks. In an attempt to keep the peace with others, we sacrifice opportunities to nudge each other toward Christ. When we are put in a position that challenges our beliefs, we shrink from the chance to grow, and we hide in the safety of the status quo.

Personally, the moments that I felt God's presence the strongest were during my most uncomfortable moments. The turbulent years of high school are behind me. Medication, therapy, and support from family and friends has helped me to better control my mental illness. I found my way back to God, was baptized, and go to church nearly every Sunday. My grades are good. I have a promising job. I have made many wonderful friends. I have finally acquired the comfort that I so desperately yearned for years ago. I am grateful, certainly, but I will admit to you that I cling to these comforts too tightly.

It is so easy to kneel in prayer when it is the world that drives you to your knees. We go to God so willingly when we are afraid, when we are weak, when we are depressed, when we are lonely. In our suffering, we are closer to God because we are actively seeking our Heavenly Father out. Why isn't this desire as strong when we are content and life is being kind? I often am guilty of saying something along these lines: “Okay God, thank you so much for getting me here, but I don't really need anything right now. I'm all good. Talk to you later.”

Our thirst is so falsely quenched by earthly comforts that we do not notice our souls are running dry; we need the living water of Christ to be truly nourished. This doesn't mean that we should actively seek discomfort. We don't have to give away all of our material possessions or force ourselves to suffer. Instead, we should remember the desperation for God we felt when we were suffering, and pursue God with equal fervor even when we are not. We should live each day as if we have never tasted the living water before.


[Abby Hocking is a senior at Calvin College, where she studies psychology and writing. She is employed at Pine Rest Christian Mental Services and plans to become a therapist. Abby is a proud literature nerd, running addict, and puppy enthusiast. She thanks God daily for her wonderful family, her loving friends, and for 21 Pilots.]

Giving Up Religion

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]

I was raised in a Christian home and attended Christian schools, so religion has been woven into my entire life. For a long time though, and even at times today, I thought religion was the point of it all. The first time I heard someone say that Jesus hadn’t come to earth to create a new religion, I had to ponder it a bit. Divorcing the concept of religion from our relationship with God is a complicated process, because it’s not that religion itself, or the practices we engage in because of religion, are inherently bad or wrong. The problem comes in when religion becomes our aim instead of God--because Jesus didn’t come to bring us religion. He came to bring us himself. 

Photo Credit: Flickr User Paul Trafford, Creative Commons

When it’s wrongly understood, religion tells us there are a certain set of rules we have to follow, and if we follow them well enough, God will be happy with us and love us. The problem is, we don’t have the capability to follow the rules well enough to earn God’s love, and that’s where basing our lives on religion falls apart. It’s a game with no winners, ever.

Galatians 4:6-7 tells us how relationship with God is really supposed to be:

Because you are his sons, God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, the Spirit who calls out, “Abba, Father.” So you are no longer a slave, but God’s child; and since you are his child, God has made you also an heir.

It’s not based on something we do; “God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts.” That’s the key right there--on our own, we’re never enough, but God says we’re already enough. We’re his children, dearly loved because of who we are and not because of what we do.

All of this is well and good; it’s certainly important to be reminded that we’re deeply valued and loved by God. But why does this really matter in our everyday lives? What difference does it make? Intellectually I know I’m loved by God and don’t need to try to meet some unattainable standard, but it doesn’t always feel that way. What can bridge the gap?

The answer is the Holy Spirit. The rituals and beliefs of religion can’t, on their own, save us or move us any closer to God. Only the Holy Spirit can do that. To break free from the idea that religion is the point instead of God, we have to believe and let the Holy Spirit do his work.

This is a difficult concept for me. For all my religious knowledge, pointing to the Holy Spirit’s actual work in my life would be a lot harder for me. There’s something about the idea of letting the Holy Spirit work in my life that unnerves me a bit, and I think it’s because I’d much prefer for the Spirit to work within the limits I put on him. A prayer as I brush my teeth, a few minutes of silence on my drive to work, a bit of Bible reading before bed, and I feel like I should be set. All of those activities tend to be rushed though, like I’m expecting God to work himself into my schedule. 

When we really desire to put a relationship with God first instead of getting caught up in the rules of religion, we can’t expect the Spirit to only work through the spare snippets of time we give him in the midst of a chaotic life. It’s not that the Holy Spirit can’t or won’t work through those circumstances, because he can work anywhere and through anything, but to truly grasp the significance of our relationship with God as his children, we have to commit to dwell on it, soak it in, not rush to get to the next thing. The significance and responsibility of being a child of God can’t be crammed into the corners of our lives--it has to become a priority.


Over the next few weeks, what would it look like to set aside intentional time to dwell on our identity as children of God and to ask the Holy Spirit to meet us in that place?


[Brianna DeWitt believes in Jesus, surrounding yourself with good people, and that desserts are best when they involve chocolate and peanut butter. She writes about faith, growing up, and whatever else pops into her head on her own blog, and tweets (largely about food) at @bwitt722.]

Why Easter Matters on Wednesday

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]


When Easter rolls around, we break out the spring clothes, hunt some eggs, eat some ham and maybe a chocolate bunny (or two). We celebrate at church with joyful cries of “He is risen!” and hopefully enjoy some time with family or friends. The joyful tone lasts into Monday, or maybe a day or two beyond that, but pretty much by Wednesday it’s back to regular life as we know it. Bills have to be paid, homework has to be done, trash has to be taken out, and all the regular activities of life have to continue. Eventually, we end up carrying on as though Easter never happened, until next January when the stores start getting out the Peeps again.

Photo Credit: Flickr User USACE Europe District, Creative Commons

If we truly believe that Easter changes everything though, Easter should affect every single day of our lives. It should affect how we pay our bills, how we do our homework, how we take out our trash, how we treat our coworkers, how we love our family and friends and strangers we meet on the street. Jesus came to earth, fully human and fully God, and he became the be-all-end-all sacrifice for our sins when he died on the cross. 

And then he came back to life.

He died, but he didn’t stay that way.

In Luke 24, Jesus walked along the road with two of his followers. They were kept from recognizing him as they told Jesus about the recent events surrounding Jesus’ death, but later, as they shared a meal together, their eyes were opened and they realized who Jesus was. The very man they had been walking with was the same guy they thought was dead and stuck in a tomb! Everything they thought they knew about the natural laws of death was overturned, and everything they thought to maybe be true about Jesus’ identity was proven correct. A guy who was dead had come back to life and was confirming for them that he was the Savior of the world. The fulfillment of all the prophecies they had grown up hearing was sitting at the table having dinner with them. There’s no way their lives could have been the same from that day on--Jesus truly changed everything for them. If we let it, Easter can change everything for us, too. 

Jesus became the ultimate victor over all our sin and shame, everything we’ve already done and everything we will do. Because of Jesus and what he accomplished by becoming human and dying for us, we never need to face any part of life alone or without hope. He is ever-present with us, always good, always loving, always working things in ways we may not see or understand. 

Which isn’t to say that “Easter changes everything” means life won’t still be hard. Jesus’ death and resurrection don’t protect us from the trials and tragedies of being human. People still get sick, relationships still get fractured, temptations still bombard us from every side. The power of Easter isn’t a shield to block us from difficulties; the power of Easter is a new perspective on those difficulties. Easter gives us hope that life on this earth is not the end, for us and for everyone who is in Christ. Jesus’ own disciples were living examples of this. As they set out to spread the word of Jesus around the world, they encountered opposition, persecution, and death. Jesus completely changed their lives, but it didn’t mean they became easier. 

The disciples knew what counted though. Instead of striving to get ahead in their jobs, or chasing after relationships, or trying to build a bigger house, they knew it was worth it to follow Jesus, even if it meant they never achieved things they maybe really wanted. Life with Jesus can, and should, look radically different than life without him. As we empty our fridges of Easter ham and the chocolate bunnies begin to go stale, let's not forget the changes that Easter should bring to our Wednesdays, our Thursdays, and every other day.


[Brianna DeWitt believes in Jesus, surrounding yourself with good people, and that desserts are best when they involve chocolate and peanut butter. She writes about faith, growing up, and whatever else pops into her head on her own blog, and tweets (largely about food) at @bwitt722.]

Saying Yes to Jesus

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]

When I hear stories of people selling all their stuff and moving to another country to become missionaries, I want to like them. I really do. I want to be able to applaud their sacrifice, their willingness to give up all they’ve known, their dedication to following Jesus even though it seems so extreme. Except most of the time when I hear those stories, I get kind of annoyed at these other people’s piety, and then feel kind of ashamed that I’ve never done anything so extreme for Jesus. Almost every time I’ve gone to another country, it’s been for a vacation, not to serve Jesus.

There are two rather different stories of Jesus calling his first disciples. In the book of Matthew, it takes all of two verses (Matthew 4:18-20):

As Jesus was walking beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon called Peter and his brother Andrew. They were casting a net into the lake, for they were fishermen. “Come, follow me,” Jesus said, “and I will send you out to fish for people.” At once they left their nets and followed him.

Photo Credit: Flickr User SteFou!, Creative Commons

The book of Luke records things differently, and I appreciate the perspective it offers. Instead of instantaneously dropping everything to follow Jesus, Luke 5 shows that it takes a bit for Simon Peter to come around to the idea. First Jesus asks to borrow his boat, which Simon Peter agrees to. Next, Jesus, a non-fisherman, gives Simon Peter, a professional fisherman, unsolicited advice about how to catch more fish. I love Simon Peter’s response in verse 5--it comes across almost a bit sassy.

Master, we’ve worked hard all night and haven’t caught anything. But because you say so, I will let down the nets.

This fuller version of the story from Luke is easier for me to relate to. While Simon Peter's willingness to follow Jesus is still quite abrupt (it's not like he had time to get his affairs in order), it was a bit more gradual than Matthew’s telling of the story records it to be. The task Jesus called him to--leaving everything he knew to literally follow Jesus and learn from him--was drastic, but Simon Peter sensed that this rabbi he had agreed to follow wasn’t just any old good teacher; he was signing up to follow God.

When we agree to follow God, it’s possible he’ll call us to move to another country to become missionaries, but he doesn’t call everyone to do that. Not everyone should do that. Sometimes I feel like my own life, which is full of ordinary things like going to work, spending time with friends, volunteering at church, etc., can’t possibly bring as much glory to God as a missionary’s life.

It’s not about the actions though, it’s about the heart behind it. I don’t freely submit my life to God’s will perfectly by any means, but just because my life looks different than other people’s lives doesn’t mean I’m not still glorifying God when I allow him to be in control.  First I might say yes to God in small ways, like agreeing to lend him my boat and rowing into the shallow water like Simon Peter first did. As I learn more about him and fall more in love with him though, hopefully I’ll be able to hand over more and more of my life, bits and pieces at a time--my plans for how I thought my life would go, the relationships that have become unhealthy, the comfort I thought I was promised.

Maybe the question doesn’t start with, “Will you give God everything?” Maybe the question starts with, “Will you be obedient in this moment?” There are many different ways to follow Jesus, but they all start with saying Yes.

[Brianna DeWitt believes in Jesus, surrounding yourself with good people, and that desserts are best when they involve chocolate and peanut butter. She writes about faith, growing up, and whatever else pops into her head on her own blog, and tweets (largely about food) at @bwitt722.]

Why Do You Follow Jesus?

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]


I once overheard two women talking as they browsed in a store. They were looking at a book I couldn’t see, but I heard one say, “I love Jesus, but I hate Christians.” “Yea, they’re terrible,” the other agreed. Had I spoken to them, I couldn’t really have disagreed. A lot of people who call themselves Christians have done and said truly awful things, which can put other Christians in a tough spot. How do we explain murders committed and wars raged supposedly in the name of Christ? What about passages in the Bible where God commands his followers to wipe out entire people groups? Do we have to be able to explain these things to follow Jesus well?

Photo Credit: Flickr User gr33n3gg, Creative Commons

At first glance, 1 Peter 3:13-16 kind of makes it seem like we do. Verse 15 reads, “Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have.” This sentence is often used as rationale for making sure we can defend our faith with memorized answers and rationale for difficult questions people ask. Of course it’s good to study the Bible and know why we believe what we believe, but Peter isn’t telling us we have to be able to explain away all the tricky passages in the Bible and perfectly respond to the big questions of life. Instead, we’re invited to give people an answer for the reason we have hope.

Our hope should not be found in perfectly crafted arguments and in winning debates; our hope should be found in God. We have hope because Jesus became a man and came to earth to die for our sins, and because the Holy Spirit dwells within us and guides our steps. We can study all of this in the gift of God’s word as it’s revealed to us in the Bible, but we do so knowing that we won’t understand it all perfectly; and ultimately, we don’t have to.

Christians will do things that seem very un-Christlike, because Christians are just humans trying to follow Jesus, and humans can never be perfect. There will be sections of the Bible we don’t fully understand, questions about why God lets certain things happen, and wondering if it’s worth it when being a Christian means we have to give up what we desire. But Peter doesn’t tell us to convert everyone we meet through our perfect arguments, because that’s not our job. Only God can do the saving.

Instead, we can tell our stories for the hope that we have. We can tell about the grace and redemption we see woven through our lives, the overwhelming love that meets us in the darkest of times. Each of us has a different story about why we follow Jesus, a unique way that God reached into our life and revealed himself for who he is. Some of us may have been following Jesus for years and need to remind ourselves of why we do as much as we need to tell others about it. Some of us may be just getting to know Jesus and are trying to figure out what a life modeled after his really looks like. Some of us may be filled with joy for how God is working in our lives and in the people around us.

Wherever we’re at, it is valuable to be able to articulate why we are Christians. Not only does it remind us of why, it helps us share about his love and goodness with others as well. Had I talked to those women I heard in the store, I would have wanted to hear their stories of why they hate Christians, but also tell them why I call myself one--and how following the Jesus they said they love has given me hope.



*Note: I originally told the story of the women in the store in the post "I Love Jesus, But I Hate You." published on my personal blog.


[Brianna DeWitt believes in Jesus, surrounding yourself with good people, and that desserts are best when they involve chocolate and peanut butter. She writes about faith, growing up, and whatever else pops into her head on her own blog, and tweets (largely about food) at @bwitt722.]

Sitting at the Feet of Jesus

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]


If you ask my family or closest friends, they would love to tell you about all my control issues and constant need to plan everything. My life is organized by spreadsheets and to-do lists.

When my husband and I found out we were expecting our first baby (due in July!), it was no

Photo Credit: Flick User Butterfly Orbs, Creative Commons

surprise that I immediately went to Pinterest and started planning. My pregnancy board contains pins like “50 things to do while you nest & prep for a new baby,” “Weekly pregnancy to-do-list,” “8 tasks to prepare financially for your baby,” and “7 things I wish my husband knew before baby.” I went into planning mode and created at least three budget sheets for possible post-baby job situations, researched remedies for morning sickness before I even experienced it, and stocked up on pregnancy books and blogs. Before I knew it, my focus was on the giant to-do list and must-haves for our future life with this baby.

While these might all be good or useful things on their own—possibly even expected—I was putting my focus on controlling my future in any manner that I could. Planning for this baby was my everything. I lost sight of the bigger picture and the fact that God had created a sweet little miracle growing inside of my body. I forgot to make the connection between the Creator of life and His own creation. It was all about me and my life, and not about God and His plan for our lives and our new child.

As we heard from Luke 10 this week, Martha had a very similar problem. She was concerned with what was expected of her as hostess to Jesus, and not very concerned with Jesus himself. She kept busy cooking and cleaning, preparing for Jesus’s stay. When her sister Mary failed to lend a hand, Martha was upset that she was doing all the work by herself. Jesus answered her with a gentle correction:

“Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “You are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her” (Luke 10:41-42).

Mary had chosen to sit at Jesus’s feet, to spend time in His presence and let her world revolve around His. So often we are like Martha, preparing and planning, only to miss what might be right in front of us. To become like Mary we cannot look toward simple “life hacks” or “50 ways to follow Jesus” in order to truly experience the fullness of God. Instead, we must spend time in relationship with the God who can satisfy our every need and accomplish true change in our lives.

2 Corinthians 5:17-19 says, “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation: that God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting people’s sins against them. And he has committed to us the message of reconciliation.”

When we become new in Christ and have a relationship with Him, true change starts to trickle out into every part of our lives. We no longer need Pinterest boards or life hacks to prepare us for what might come in the future. For me, I no longer need to hide behind my controlling ways and planning tendencies; I can simply bring my fears about being a mother to God. Only he can truly calm those fears and prepare my heart for the future.

What are you putting at the center of your life? What occupies most of your time, efforts, and thoughts? Redirect your focus this week and spend some time sitting at the feet of Jesus, the only One who never disappoints and always satisfies.


[Megan Stephenson is a recent graduate of Grand Valley State University and works for a private education group in Grand Rapids as an Assistant Registrar. She loves spending time with her husband, Ben, trying out new breweries, restaurants, and local attractions. She also self-identifies as a crazy cat lady, despite owning no cats of her own, thanks to her loving and allergic husband.]

Look Like Jesus

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]


A couple of years ago as I browsed in a store, I overheard two women who were standing a few feet away from me. The store had cards, knickknacks, and a wall full of books, mostly on spirituality and wellness. As one of the women looked through a book, she paused and made a comment.

The other woman replied, “I love Jesus, but I hate Christians.” “Yea, they’re terrible,” the first woman agreed. They both chuckled a bit and continued on with their browsing, soon moving to another section of the store.

Though I didn’t speak to them, I wondered what the stories were that led to these strong feelings about Christians. Was it the headlines about churches protesting funerals or comments by politicians they didn’t agree with? Was it specific moments, with words spoken in spite or malice by people they thought loved them? Or was it a combination of things, too varied to be counted, that led to sweeping statements about all people who identify themselves by that label of “Christian”?

While I’ll never know the reasons behind that specific instance of “I love Jesus, but I hate Christians,” it’s not an uncommon statement. It’s even a somewhat understandable one--I know I can certainly think of Christians I don’t really want to be associated with--or, more humblingly, times in my own life when I did not live up to the loving, merciful, grace-filledness that label should entail.

Yet, despite our inability to do it perfectly, Jesus has left us here on the earth as bearers of his name. Richard and Reneé Stearns wrote, “You just might be the only Jesus they will ever see.” Which begs the question: What kind of Jesus will people see when they look at our lives? Would they see the type of person who makes them say, “I hate Christians,” or the type of person who makes them curious about who this Jesus guy is and what a relationship with him could look like?

We don’t have to do too much guesswork to figure out what kind of things make us more like Jesus. In John 13:14-15, Jesus tells his disciples, “Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet. I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you.” It doesn’t meant we have to literally walk up to strangers and start washing their feet, but this humble, grace and love-filled, servant-like action--this is what Jesus does. This is what it looks like to be a follower of him, to imitate him so closely that when others look at us they see Jesus.

What could our homes, our workplaces, our schools, our communities, our world look like if everyone who professed to follow Jesus truly lived that out? Not in some fake, superficial way, but in a way that bore the inner transformation of hearts being conformed to Christ’s?

Maybe we’d hear people say, “I love Jesus...and his followers aren’t too bad either.”



*Note: A version of the story told here originally appeared in the post “I Love Jesus, But I Hate You,” published 5.19.2013 on Brianna’s personal blog.

[Brianna DeWitt believes in Jesus, surrounding yourself with good people, and that desserts are best when they involve chocolate and peanut butter. She loves Christmas and can be found spreading Christmas cheer by singing loud for all to hear. You can read more of her musings on her own blog or follow her on Twitter @bwitt722.]