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BIG NEWS

I wrote a book in the 4th grade. Technically, two because the first story didn’t fill all the blank pages Mrs. Eastman gave me. The tale of Sparky the Firedog paired with children’s poems felt like such a big, vulnerable undertaking that I did what many great authors do:

I took on the pen name of Renee’ Mctyre since I was nervous and also sure I’d be marrying Joey from New Kids on the Block someday (and learning to spell our last name correctly).

I remember finishing this book and wondering what authors who write books that are published on a wide scale feel like when they see their work in actual print.

“Someday, you could find out for yourself if you want. Just keep working,” Mrs. E told me.

I’m not sure she knew the power planting those words in me would have.

I moved schools after that school year and moved on with my fifth grade work as was expected, but the idea that I could share my words with the world continued to live in the back of my mind.

In fifth grade, Ms. Plomer pulled myself and a few other students aside to attend “Young Author Day” at Hope College. I arrived with a handwritten manuscript in hand, then spent the day learning about writing, storytelling, and the publishing process. I can’t even recall which author was there because my mind was too preoccupied with the idea of publishing a “real” book someday.

Now, nearly 32 years later, it’s finally happening. Thanks to seed planted and watered by teachers I found my voice. Thanks to the encouragement from many I was brave enough to use my real name. Thanks to my family and friends: I wrote a book that is being published.

Today, with an ever grateful heart and immense pride I am able to announce that my debut book, Sunday School Dropout, will be released on March 28, 2023.

I am excited, terrified, and proud of this book. I hope this message of struggling to live the faith you were raised in can help others to heal and grow. I know the process of writing this book and exploring my own faith has been an amazing experience for me. One of growth that never ends.

Thank you for your love,  prayers, and support so far – I wouldn’t be here without you either. As pre-orders open, I hope you’ll be moved to order and read more from me.

As always, stay tuned here (or subscribe below!) for up to date info. This is the start of something big, I’m so glad you’re here to do this with me.

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Why are People Leaving Church?

I read a lot and last week someone shared a wonderful post by John Pavlovitz that I feel everyone needs to read titled “Dear Church, Here’s why People are Leaving”.

After I read it, the words kept rattling around in my head. After reading and re-reading it a few times, I came to one simple conclusion:

He nailed it.

People are leaving the church because the church is leaving them.

Instead of being a welcoming place for all kinds of sinners to gather and learn about forgiveness and love, many churches are focusing on telling people who can or cannot worship with them. Instead of loving everyone they limit who can only partially participate in services and who cannot participate at all.

The “you can’t sit with us” attitude of the modern church has created a theological Mean Girls sequel many people do not want to be a part of. Pastor Regina George, anyone?

When people are openly told they are not welcome, of course they’re not going to stick around. https://johnpavlovitz.com/2019/05/14/dear-church-heres-why-people-are-leaving/Neither are the people who love them. We are told countless times in the Bible to love and welcome all – not just those who are like us. This seems even more obvious since we are all sinners. Who are we to decide who is better or worse? We are in no position to decide who is worthy of God’s love and who is not.

People aren’t just leaving because they don’t love God or find religion outdated. They are leaving because so many in religion are literally telling them they do not belong. Church leaders can act confused and continue scratching their heads in wonder all they want. They can blame it on Satan and host all the emergency meetings they want to try and fight this evil away, but until more churches start looking inward at their actions it’s not going to get any better.

When you side with oppression, promote omission, and continue to shame anyone different than you, you will end up losing every time.

Jesus didn’t ask us to judge and exclude. He asked us to follow him, then led us straight to the most marginalized people and embraced them. He told us to love them too.

We cannot hold others to our flawed human expectations and continue to wonder why people are leaving churches.

It’s not because of a lack of faith, it’s because of a lack of decency.

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3 Prayers for Your Hardest Times

A few years ago, I started saying 3 prayers for some of the hardest parts in my life. For me, at that time, they were specifically for 3 people in my life.

I did not pray for God to change them into who I thought they should be. I did not ask him to prove I was right or to open their eyes to how wrong they were.

I asked God to change me.

I prayed three simple prayers: I wanted the wisdom and grace to talk to them without hurt feelings, leeriness, and past conflicts running the show. I wanted to see things from their point-of-view and I wanted to not just assume I was always right.

Some stay, some go

Within a few months, the first person walked away. Sometimes in life that happens. The second person unexpectedly started to meet me where I was in our conversations. We were able to approach past hurts and figure out a good path forward from a place of peace, love, forgiveness, and respect. We’re doing fine and piecing ourselves back together to this day.


The third was trickier. We’d met each other with distrust and overtly aggressive words for so long I wasn’t sure things could ever improve. However, two years ago things started to shift. Our conversations stopped becoming arguments. Even when we didn’t agree, attacks weren’t thrown out. Our last email exchange in the Spring of 2020 contained an apology, best wishes, and an optimistic plan for moving forward.

As the world shut down, life happened and we lost touch. There was no screaming fall out or Real Housewives worthy blow up, things just kind of stopped. Sometimes that happens in life. I meant every word when I wished him well and kept him in my prayers.

Sadly, he passed away last month. I was shocked. And I’m kind of mad. Just when things were finally getting to a good place, the rug was pulled out from underneath us. Nothing about this seems right or fair.

Pain is an unavoidable part of life. No matter your religious beliefs, practices, or non-beliefs we all deal with pain in our lives. Faith doesn’t promise a pain-free life (if you hear otherwise, run away – they’re lying).

Beauty from Pain

When we begin the painful process of picking up the shattered pieces of our broken hearts we have no choice but to try our best to put it back together. If you’ve ever broken something fragile, you know how difficult this is. In the end, even if you find every piece, things never fit back together the same.

We have two choices then. We can be ashamed of and hardened by the scars our hearts carry, or we can be proud of how we grew through hard times. There is beauty found in the scars of our broken hearts.


The Japanese practice of kintsugi is the best representation I’ve ever seen. This practice involves taking beautiful, but broken, items and putting them back together with shimmering gold among the cracks. The new-old piece resembles its former self, but with more beauty and value than before. It’s the best reminder I’ve ever seen of how pain can bring beauty into life.

It also reminds me of one of my favorite verses I lean on when the pain is too much, Psalm 34:18:

“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.”

You’re Not Alone

Even in our pain, we are not alone. Even in our broken places there is love and beauty waiting for us. Gathering the pieces and putting them back together takes time, but in the end we will become who we are meant to be if we do the work.

Asking for God’s help in becoming who you are meant to be in times of pain or struggle is not always easy, but it is always worth it. I am grateful for the peace it brought to my life and the beauty I see now in the broken places.

I hope you find peace in your struggles today.

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Be Curious

If you live with a child, or have spent any time with one, you have to admit this is pretty true. Kids see more, ask more questions, and seek more information about the world than adults do. 


Just a few weeks back, my niece pointed to a small sapling peeking out of the ground. It was barely six inches tall and resembled Charlie Brown’s Christmas tree more than the old mighty trees around it. She pointed at it and asked me what it was. Honestly, if she hadn’t asked about it I probably wouldn’t have noticed it. 


“That’s a baby tree. It’s just starting but it will grow tall like all these trees. They were this small a long time ago too.” I answered, sure that I nailed it.


“Oh. Then it gets big and can be a rainbow tree!” 


My inflated sense of scientific pride deflated a bit. Clearly SOME of what I said made sense but I obviously hadn’t been clear enough. So I tried again.


“Kind of. It’ll get big and then it’ll be just like these trees by it.” I wisely touch a broad trunk nearby to reinforce that trees are trees, not rainbows. Miss Frizzle herself couldn’t have better at this point.


“And then a rainbow tree. I like the rainbow trees.” She looked slightly frustrated with my answer.


At this point, I was cold, my knees hurt from being crouched to her level that long, and I was lost. I sheepishly admitted I didn’t know what a rainbow tree was and asked for an explanation. 


She sighed (in fairness, I probably had that coming) and came next to me, then pointed up at the colorful canopy of fall colors over our heads and in a tiny awe-filled whisper of a voice told me,


“I like it when the trees are rainbows.” 


For the first time in my life, I looked at the leaves not as a sign of impending winter or of football season, but simply as the sparkling colors dancing over our heads. 


Red, orange, yellow, and green leaves danced against the blue sky among shadows of indigo and violet. The trees really do become rainbows. 


I couldn’t help but wonder what other things I am missing in life just because I don’t look closer or ask many questions. 


In adulthood, I think it’s safe to say that we’re so worried about knowing everything that we often overlook the importance of asking questions. It’s ok not to know. It’s even better to seek knowledge from those around us and to question the world. 


It’s true in all aspects of life, but it’s been feeling especially true to me in my faith. I read the Bible, hear the verses, and listen to sermons without stopping to ask about parts I don’t understand. I take what is presented to me without digging deeper. 


I tend to forget what God told Jeremiah in Jeremiah 33:3, “call to me and I will answer you and tell you great unreachable things you do not know.” I know I’m not the only one.


God wants us to ask questions. To wrestle with His word. To seek more than what we see. 



“It is the glory of God to conceal things,  but the glory of kings is to search things out.” Proverbs 25:5


Do you know the history of what was going on when the Bible was being written? Why do you worship how you do? Who decreed the changes? How do we decide what parts of the Bible to follow and what parts do not apply to us? 


What can we do with this ancient text in our modern world to actually live like Christ? 


I don’t have the answers. I may never. Maybe no one does. But no matter what, we need to keep asking questions, seeking information, and embracing the curiosity of children in our faith. 

And also enjoy the rainbow trees.

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Missing Pieces

This is part 2 of the October Pregnant and Infant Loss Series – please read Part 1 HERE if you haven’t already. 

**********************

All I wanted to do when I got home was sleep. I blamed it on the leftover anesthesia still flowing through my body but truthfully, I was just trying to escape the reality of the day. I stayed in bed for nearly 24 hours until the following afternoon when I decided it was time to “get over it”. 

“Everyone will think I am crazy,” I kept telling myself, “They weren’t real babies, right? I didn’t hold them, I didn’t name them, I didn’t even ask any questions about them so obviously I just need to move on from this mess.” 

I was living on pain meds and still feeling a terrible ache as I fumbled through the day. I got my basic Saturday routine of cleaning and shopping done before falling back into my bed that evening. I thought once my body was only mine once again, things would go back to normal but I was wrong. Instead of feeling like my normal self in a bit of pain, the hollow aching left me feeling more empty than I’d ever been before. 

I was sure people were going to think I was crazy for not getting over this faster. 

Martin Hudáček’s sculpture entitled “Memorial for Unborn Children

The next evening, we had floor seats for a concert we’d been looking forward to for almost a year. We talked about skipping it, but I was determined to show the world (and myself) that I was not crazy. I was fine because “these things happen” and I couldn’t mope forever. I had planned to go to the concert with my babies in my belly, so I certainly wasn’t skipping it just because they were gone. 

It was the worst concert of my life. I’m not sure if it is because of who I was with (we divorced 2 years later), the fact that the band’s new album sucked (it really did), or that I spent half the concert running to the restroom to change another soaked pad all night. I just remember sitting in my seat and looking around at the arena packed with thousands of people wondering to myself if they could tell the pain I was in. I wondered if anyone else in that arena was feeling the same way. Had anyone else there ever felt that way? The feeling didn’t subside until I crawled into bed and drifted to sleep that night. 

When I went to work Monday morning there were flowers and a card on my desk. The moment I walked in and saw them, I turned on my heel and walked back out the door. I had said it was not to be talked about. Not acknowledged or implied or anything. I told them I’d be back Tuesday and I expected my desk cleaned and everyone else over this by then. 

How could I move on if the people around me were insisting on dragging me back into it. 

That’s the part no one tells you in the cheap pamphlet the doctor hands you when you lose a baby. For every person who tells you “these things happen” or “God works in mysterious ways” there are just as many people who want you to grieve and go through the emotions of losing someone you love. 

Both sides surround you and you’re never sure which way to go. You will alternate between both camps as you sort out the mess of emotions and hormones that come with losing a baby. You will hate your body for failing you while gingerly caring for it as it slowly heals from the physical trauma. You will feel like you’re losing your mind and not doing it “right” when really, there is no single right way to deal with this pain. You only need to do what is right for you. Lean into the feelings when they overcome and keep living your normal life when they go. How you react does not change how deep your loss was.

My babies should be turning 16 in the next few weeks. Their due date was November 11, 2005. For anyone who thinks things like this go away over time, I think about them every year on that date, even though I know as twins they likely would have come sooner. 

I think about how badly I wanted to hold them and hug them on November 11. How I had planned to cover them with kisses, breathe in their essence, and tell them they were loved as they took their first breaths. I hope they felt loved every second of their short lives with me. More than anything, I’m so grateful they had each other. Whether they knew what was happening, felt any discomfort, or worried for even a second about what was happening they were not alone. 

They had each other then and they have each other now in heaven. Someday, I know I will hold them and I will remind them they were loved for every second of their lives – and mine. They were loved like only a mother can love.

I am a mother four, who only got to hold two. 

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Life Created and Lost

This post is part one of an October pregnancy loss series.

“We can’t find the heartbeats, but that’s not uncommon. We’ll do an ultrasound and get them that way. Plus the first look at your babies.”

I was just excited as the doctor when she offered me a first look at the two sweet babies growing in my womb. They’d seen two sacs early on and my blood work numbers were off the chart; they told me there were two babies weeks before. I was equal parts scared and excited. 

Turning the corner into the second trimester had felt like a giant weight was lifted off me. I’d seen friends lose babies before and knew getting to the second trimester was a major milestone. One not to be taken for granted and one I thanked God for every night. I did it. I was in the clear. My first major responsibility as a mom and I had nailed it. 

I went to my check up that day alone, an ultrasound before 18-20 weeks hadn’t crossed my mind! The books I was absorbing every night didn’t say anything about ultrasounds earlier and I was over the moon to think I could see my little babies sooner than I ever imagined. I knew they’d look like little dough ball people, but they’d be my little dough balls and that was all I cared about. 

The next 30 minutes are still a blur in my mind, more than 15 years later. The dim room, the crinkly table, my paper gown, and the cool gooey gel started me on my happy adventure. The stark silence, the slight squint of the eyes, moving the screen from my view, then the tech leaving to get my doctor ushered me into a journey of loss unlike any I had been on before. 

I heard words like empty, nothing, lost, and gone mixed in with medical words. They asked if I could call someone for a ride. If I needed to go to work. If there was anything they could to help me then. I think I shook my head. I know I cried and slowly pulled on the maternity pants I had already needed once I was alone in the cozy ultrasound room. I walked into the room pregnant and loving my babies, I would be walking out broken and alone. Finding the courage to open that door and leave my hopes for them behind was hard. 

I went to my car, I called my husband to tell him what happened then I called work. I did not have an ounce of tact or decorum left when I spoke to my boss. 

“My babies are dead. I am not coming back to work today, I am not coming in tomorrow. I do not want to talk about it ever. Please tell everyone so I do not have to talk about it. I will be back Monday. I do not want to talk about it.”

I hung up, I drove home, I crawled into bed, and I cried until every inch of my body ached just as badly as my empty womb and heart did. 

When the doctor “catches” a miscarriage before your body does, you’re left with a terrible choice. You can walk around and wait for your body to start the painful process of expelling your sweet baby or you can go to the doctor for a D&C procedure to remove everything and start healing your body. Make no mistake, it is the same painful awful procedure as an abortion but they call is something kinder when you’re at lowest. I’m not sure why they change the name. 

I chose the D&C. Early the next morning, without eating anything, I crawled out of bed and called the doctor’s office right at 8am like I’d been told to do. They gave me a long list of things to do and don’t do before my assigned time to report to the hospital for the procedure. I walked through the house in a zombie-like state gathering comfy clothes, maxi pads, and doing a few chores I likely wouldn’t have energy for later in the day. Then we headed to the hospital. 

I recall nothing of arriving or going into the room. I do recall waking up next to my doctor in the recovery room. Visitors were not allowed back there, but doctors were. She sat by side so I wouldn’t wake up alone and empty in a strange place. Her kind blue eyes and the warm laugh lines on her face were the first thing I saw.

Immediately, I broke into the biggest, ugliest, most incoherent tears of my life. She leaned in and held me and let me cry. Everything hurt. My body was sore and I could feel it bleeding. I was woozy and dizzy coming out of the anesthesia and feeling ready to puke from the meds in my system. Nothing felt good or pleasant in that moment. From the very bottom of my soul to every corner of my body I hurt. 

My doctor remembering I was a grieving mother in a lot of pain meant the world to me. Her kindness and love got me through the few hours of recovery before I headed home for a miserable weekend of recovery.

I thought I left the hard part of the trauma at the hospital but I was wrong. 

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Broken Prayers?

Are my prayers broken?


When I pray, I find myself often asking God to make things go how I want them to. When I hear others pray, it seems like they’re doing the same thing too – so I guess somewhere along the way we must have all picked up that that’s how we pray. 


But is it how we’re supposed to pray?


Because lately, it’s started to feel like I’m a kid begging for changes because I don’t like what’s going on. Please make Covid go away, help happen, let me get this thing I want…I’m praying to Him but I’m heavily focused on me. 


It makes sense, I suppose, when you look at human nature that prayer would also fall into this me-centric way of thinking. We’re hard wired back to fight or flight to look out for ourselves and survive. I wonder if it’s possible those instincts still have more daily control over us than we realize and have now made their way into prayer. 


Instead of asking God to make things go our way, shouldn’t we be asking him to help us be who He wants us to be in a situation? Even if we don’t like it, if He put us in it there must be a reason behind it. Maybe it’s an opportunity for growth, there’s a lesson to learn, or we’re playing a role in someone else’s lesson.


Instead of asking God to improve every situation for us, maybe we should be asking God to improve us for every situation. 


This one has me really thinking about how I’m approaching my day and situations. It’s got me rethinking how I approach God. He isn’t a genie meant to bend the world to my liking – not at all. Somewhere, I seem to have borderline confused him as such. 


I’d really like to hear your thoughts and feedback on this. Anyone know of any books or podcasts about this? I could be way off base, but I feel like there is a lot of peace we’re denying ourselves here.

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Tales of a Messy Christian

I’m a Chistian. And I am far from perfect. I do not claim to be perfect – in fact, my imperfections are exactly why I need Jesus in my life so much. 


I am a Christian and I swear. Like, regularly. Momma, I’m sorry – but I have talked with pastors and while it doesn’t sound the nicest, Jesus didn’t say shit or damn or the occasional F bomb would lead to our eternal damnation. I’m doing my best. 


I am a Christian and I drink. Jesus was fine with wine – which gives me headaches – so I’d like to thank heaven beer was invented for people like me. Also, I’d love to tip back a cold one with Jesus because I do some of my best talking around fires with good people and good drinks. 


I am a Christian and I am ok if you are not. My job is not to convince you I am right or get you to drink the “Jesus kool-aid”. I’m here to love you (and everyone), help you (and everyone), and do my best to do good things. I respect and support you doing God your way and will love you along the way. Even if that means you don’t do God at all. We don’t need to agree for us to still love each other.


I am a Christian and my kids can’t recite a single Bible verse. They do, however, set up tables for services, help with food for the congregation, assist in the nursery, and love the people around them. They help the people they love and speak up for justice whenever they see wrongs happening. They have big hearts and do good things. I’ll take that over a memory verse any day. 

I am a Christian and I believe in Science. God put brains in our heads so we can use them. He gave us tools to live longer, so use them. He gave us each other to work together for the betterment of us all, so lean in to each other. Like a parent watching their child learn a new skill, I believe he cheers for us with every new discovery we make.


I am Chrstian and I will not be judging you. If your kid is throwing a fit in the store – know that mine did too. Bless your heart. If your landscape isn’t Better Homes and Gardens ready – know that I cannot keep any plants alive. Bless both our hearts. And if your life looks messy  – know that I am sure its no worse the shit show my life regularly is. Bless us all. 


I am Christian and I have gossiped, lied, and cheated. I have been divorced, bankrupt, and through the ringer of a custody war. I have cursed God and praised Him – sometimes all in the same day. I have been rich and I have been poor in more things than just money. I eat too many chips, do not pray every day, and we would eat cereal daily if it were up to me. 


I am Christian and I am flawed beyond belief but forgiven without fail.

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Covid-19 Questions

Covid-19 questions still rattle around in my mind.

I thought as we approached a year since our lock downs, things might be better, but I think that was too optimistic of me because I got Covid-19, in February of 2021. I was really excited that our house, with two essential workers and two kids attending in-person school, might make it to the vaccine finish line without bringing the vile germ into our house. That’ll teach me to count my eggs before they’ve hatched, right? 

I went through every symptom with textbook precision, right down the list. Congestion, fatigue, trouble breathing, fever, body aches, loss of taste and smell all came on like clockwork. Thankfully, twenty-five days after my runny nose began, the worst of it seems to be fading away finally. The loss of smell and taste are still with me, along with lots of aches, fatigue, and Covid-19 questions. 

This is kicking my butt – and I’m an otherwise healthy person.

By now I am sure you know someone directly who has had it. If not, I will be that person for you. As I have been sitting in my house – first in isolation, now in quarantine with my family – I am struggling more than ever with people choosing to ignore precautions for their own convenience. It’s not a great testament to you defending your rights, it’s a selfish assault on everyone else’s. 

Mask up for everyone.

Also, if you didn’t wear a mask and were around me, you owe me a casserole. If you’re going to make people sick, at least do the decent thing and drop off a meal. That is just Midwest living 101, for crying out loud.

When did we become such a fractured world? When did everyone start putting the preferences of “me” in front of the basic needs of “we”. Illness aside, I think this is the saddest commentary on the state of the world I have seen in a long time. We have finally fallen to a disgusting level where people are willing to pass an illness, allow others to suffer, and some to die because they are annoyed by a mask or canceled vacation plans. Instead of asking Covid-19 questions and listening to the facts, many people still refuse to love their neighbor and put a piece of fabric on. It’s disgusting behavior.

Sheep and Goats

Instead of debating who is acting like a sheep and who is the G.O.A.T in our nation, we need to step back and remember we will be asked about actions one day. When we are separated like sheep and goats as Matthew 25:31-46 tells us. It’s worth refreshing your memory if it’s been awhile. Those who stay with our shepherd and care for the flock, will be rewarded. Those who were too stubborn will have to answer some very difficult questions.

Will you be a sheep or goat?

Laugh at my mask wearing and rule following but my answer will be that I did all I could to protect all of the people. I put “we” ahead of “me”. When the world around me didn’t do the same, I pulled back from being around my own family to further protect the “we” from what was ravaging me. As much as it hurt to not touch or hug my family, to hear them laughing while I laid in bed sick – it was nothing compared to what I would have felt if they got sick. The same goes for everyone around me. 

Who are you living for?

It’s easier to ignore the needs of the world around you than it is to make sacrifices to help others. There is less planning and reworking of life when you live that way. But, are you really living a better life if you’re accomplishing it at the expense of others? If you are, I don’t think that could actually be called a “better life”.

He will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.’ – Matthew 25:45, NIV

Jesus doesn’t only want us living for ourselves or the “important” people in the world. Our thoughts need to go to the least of the people. The ones who are at risk, in need, or have no direct impact on our lives. The ones that a simple mask and spacing out in public can help the most. If you’re not living for everyone, you’re not living for Him. When they ask me the Covid-19 questions, I’ll be able to say I did what I could for everyone. I did my best to protect family, friends, strangers, and everyone in between. I protected the least of us.

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Faithful Resolutions are the Key to Success

Faithful resolutions are so much better than the others. The expectations for the year are realistic and basic. With the state of the world these days, I’m confident that was the right move heading into the New Year. While resolutions are hard to keep, we know looking for more happiness in our life is always a good undertaking. Some days will be more productive than others, but we’re making progress. Progress is more than enough. 

What about your faith this year? What are you doing to grow that? Faithful resolutions are my favorite. Unlike the crazy variables in our spastic world, our faith will never let us down. In fact, it’s the rock that we can firmly stand on amidst the chaos in the world and our life. Faith is life. 

All you really need to do in your faithful resolutions in 2021 is follow this lead from Jonathan Edwards:

Resolution One: I will live for God. Resolution Two: If no one else does, I still will. 

I love it. Sure it sounds basic and simple, but at the end of the day pure faith and love are basic and simple too. The beauty of God is that he doesn’t track how many times you read your Bible or how many daily devotionals you complete in your lifetime. Yes, they bring His words closer to us but if we aren’t letting them sink in to become the core of us, I don’t think He cares how much studying we do. Our faithful resolutions require more action from us.

God Loves Faithful Resolutions

He wants people who love Him. People who know how to ask for forgiveness for mistakes and gracefully give forgiveness to those who wrong us. People who not only read or speak his words, but actively live them out. Love each other, help each other, and worship Him.

Say your prayers. Use the canned ones if needed, but speak to God honestly and openly from your heart. Tell him your mistakes, worries, and fears. If you cannot be raw and vulnerable with Him, who can you? Ask him for his help and mean it. Sit in the stillness and keep your heart open as you move through your day. He’s there, you just need to let Him help. 

Resolving to be more faithful doesn’t require anything flashy or special to achieve. It doesn’t require perfection or daily tasks to be checked off. There is no required purchase or equipment and no mandatory meeting to attend. This resolution is the easiest and will change your life deeper than any other. 

Live like he wants. God loves justice, love, and helping others. Speak up for those who cannot and be there for them in their struggles – even while you’re dealing with your own. The best way to grow your personal faith is to look beyond yourself. Doing His work and living his words is worth more than being able to recite verses. 

Don’t Stop Believing

Finally, even when the world around us seems to be losing its faith everywhere we look – hold strong to yours. It’s easy to love God when life is full of rainbows and sunshine. Loving God during dark and stormy times is where faith grows. Keep walking with God, even if no one else is, and goodness will be restored around you. 

“Forget the former things;

    do not dwell on the past.

 See, I am doing a new thing!

    Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?

 I am making a way in the wilderness

    and streams in the wasteland.”

~ Isaiah 43:18-19

This year, I’m not focusing on the mistakes or shortcomings I had in 2020 to make resolutions I likely won’t keep. No one should. Every day is a chance to start something new, to do good things, and to improve ourselves. Take them one day at a time and give yourself grace throughout the year. It’s ok if you miss a Monday, eat that brownie, or forget to do a week’s worth of reading. Life happens. 

Just stay focused on the good stuff. Wake up daily full of gratefulness for another chance at life and do good things. No matter how big or small they may be, do them in love. They’re the key to successful resolutions for a righteous life.