Monthly Archives: August 2024

The Symphony of Family

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Every family is a symphony. Every member is a skilled musician with a unique instrument in hand. Every moment is a song, and every word is a note carrying its melody. Early last week, the Thoma family’s ensemble just grew by one performer. Preston Michael took his seat among us, and as you might imagine, for this grandpa, his promise is most rapturous.

I got to meet him the day after he was born. His dad—my son, Joshua—introduced us. I didn’t get to greet Preston properly, though. He’s currently in the NICU, and he’ll likely be there for a few more days. Nevertheless, at the time, his wriggling fingers, crinkly nose, and peeking glances were silent greetings that sang straight into my heart—a kind of resonance that only children and the angels who guard them can produce (Matthew 18:10). I finally got to hold him yesterday, and what a joy it was.

I can promise you that I intend to be the kind of grampa whose hug is felt long after I’ve let go.

With Preston’s birth came an in-rushing of familiar sensations. The day after he was born, Joshua and I talked about it while Jennifer and Lexi went down the hall for a turn with him. We spoke as only fathers can. I wondered aloud something like, “When you were born, I remember experiencing a particular sensation. It was a sudden awareness—almost a presence—something I felt like I could reach out and touch if I wanted to.” I told Joshua that when I first saw him, I knew everything in my life would be different, that nothing would ever be the same again, and that whatever happened from here on out, I was all in for him. I loved him. He was family.

Joshua confirmed the sensation. I’m not surprised. I imagine that, for most parents, the moment their child arrives—finally intersecting with the world in a touchable way—it is an event like none other. In a sense, even though the Earth still revolves around the sun, there’s a shift in gravity’s center. The child becomes the middle, a luminescent joy around which all other planets must spin. Indeed, as it was when I first became a father, it was the same for Joshua. Everything was different now, and no matter what the future held, trusting Christ, Josh knew it was going to be incredible.

We both admitted it wouldn’t be easy. In that moment, roles reverted. I was the dad again, and he was the son, with both of us recalling the challenges as we knew them. We acknowledged times when Josh made life more complicated and times when I wasn’t the best parent I could’ve been. Still, we returned to where we started.  There we were, acknowledging that the lack of ease doesn’t negate the joy of parenting. If anything, it serves to remind us even more of family’s wonderfulness.

I’ve always believed that while God has fashioned some indescribably splendid things, of them all, family is one of His best. He brings two very different people together, a man and a woman, and from their union, life! However, not just human life (which, of course, is the wonder above all others), but instead the actual experience of living—the lived reality of vocation and recreation and relationships and all the things that a human experiences. The thing about family, however, is that while we’re out and about in the world living, even as that same world will so often be vicious and unforgiving, there will always be a group of people—a place—where living assumes love and where the cardinal rule of governance is forgiveness. In other words, God has designed the human family to be reminiscent of Himself. When everything around you is coming undone, or when you’ve been as unlovable as you can be, there will be someone willing to take you in, forgive you, and continue to love you.

The writer George Bernard Shaw, while he was a philosophical and spiritual mess, managed to get something right when he wrote that “family is but an earlier heaven.” In a way, Christians know at least two deeper truths in this.

First, we know that marriage, the institution that establishes families, is a glorious image of the Gospel itself. Saint Paul described marriage as a mysterious representation of something much grander: the relationship between Christ and His bride, the Church (Ephesians 2:32). Go anywhere else in Paul’s writings, and you’ll see this relationship is what it is because of the forgiveness won and exacted by the Groom, Jesus.

Second, we know family can at least be an atom-sized glimpse of heaven because, as I mentioned before, love and forgiveness are a family’s glorious essentialities. This is to say, the Gospel of Christ’s life, death, and resurrection show us a family established by grace born from devoted love. Born into this by baptism into faith, heaven becomes our rightful home. As believers, we’re those whose robes have been washed and made white in the blood of the Lamb (Revelation 7:14). By this, we belong, not because of anything we’ve done, but because of what God has done for and to us.

In short, God adopted us as His children (Galatians 3:26, Romans 8:14-15). He made us family. And now, no matter where His believers are from or what scars their pasts inflicted, God always takes in His family.

I don’t know what Preston’s future holds. But I do know he’s been born into a family that loves him, one that knows its frailties, and because of those insufficiencies, things won’t always be easy. And yet, God stands at the podium. With baton in hand, He’s conducting with grace-filled movements, coaxing from His white-robed orchestra such lovely sounds. It’s a divine composition of His care, ringing out melodies that sound like “I love you,” and “I’m sorry,” and “I forgive you,” and “It’s good to see you,” and “I’m glad you’re home,” and so many more. Preston now has a seat on this stage, and like everybody else in the orchestra and audience, I can’t wait to hear him play.

Things Are Not Always As They Seem

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Grab your coffee. I have a lot to say.

I’m guessing you’ve heard the saying, “Things are not always as they seem.” Truer statements have been made throughout history. Still, this is one worth remembering, especially now that artificial intelligence (AI) has become so prominent.

Relative to images of people, to gauge their authenticity, I’ve learned to look at the hands. It seems AI has difficulty creating human hands. There was an image of Trump going around not that long ago that seemed quite real. He was on his knees in prayer in a dimly lit church. It was defended as authentic and promoted with the byline, “This is what we want in a president.” Agreed, a praying president would be nice. The only problem is that the man in the picture had twelve fingers. I’ve shaken hands with President Trump. If he had such alien-like hands, I’m sure I would’ve noticed. Although a twelve-fingered, non-woke, pro-life extraterrestrial that affirms two genders, believes in secure borders, promotes religious liberty, and understands Critical Race Theory and Socialism as the devilish ideas they are, well, I might actually vote for such a creature.

I read an article several months ago about how 20 million of the 200 million writing assignments submitted in schools last year were as much as 80% AI-generated. That’s not good, especially since many of the assignments were university and research-level work. With this as education’s trajectory, could it be that, as a society, we’re not progressing but regressing? I wonder how many of those assignments were submitted in Michigan. U.S. News & World Report shared that Michigan is currently number 41 in education in the United States. Florida is number 1. Go figure.

Within the last year, I’ve seen occasional Facebook advertisements for sermon-generating software from a company called SermonAI. I’ve started reporting it to the Facebook overlords as sexually offensive. Why? Because there isn’t a “perverse” option, and when it comes to perverted behavior, a pastor preaching a sermon written by a machine seems pretty weird. Even if the resulting sermon’s content is good, it certainly stirs concerns relative to a pastor’s call. I mean, Jesus didn’t call ChatGPT to stand in His stead and by His command. He called a human man. He called a pastor.

A few weeks back, Elon Musk shared an AI-generated video of Kamala Harris. I half-laughed and half-cried through the whole thing. With a near-perfectly generated voice, the machine said things most already knew to be true. It confessed to knowing about Biden’s cognitive decline for many years, admitting the debate in June as proof the charade was over. It admitted to being a woke DEI candidate, which, technically, Harris already admitted during a sit-down conference conversation in 2017, saying, “We have to stay woke. Like, everybody needs to be woke. And you can talk about if you’re the wokest or woker, but just stay more woke than less woke.”

For clarification, woke means things like accepting that men can get pregnant, that the only way to conquer racism is with more racism, and that it’s reasonable to put people in jail for thought crimes. If you don’t know what thought crimes are, you should look up the term, especially if you have plans to travel to England.

The AI software even mimicked Harris’ word salad tendencies, which are the rambling go-nowhere speech patterns she often falls into during unscripted Q and A sessions. I looked up “word salad” to see if it had any clinical references. It does. It’s sometimes referred to as jargon aphasia, and across multiple sources, it appears to happen for one of three reasons. First, it’s an actual disorder, and the person speaking cannot communicate sensibly. Second, it can result from anxiety medication usage. Third, it’s a narcissistic defense mechanism. People in positions of authority who don’t know what they’re talking about will do it to make their listeners think they do. There’s no question Harris is a top chef when it comes to word salads. I’ll leave it to you to decide which of the three reasons fits.

While you’re deciding, one of my favorite Harris word salads involved an attempt at off-script intellectualism during a speech at Howard University. After some toothy cackling, Harris turned solemn, attempting intellectual eloquence, “So, I think it’s very important, as you have heard from so many incredible leaders, for us at every moment in time, and certainly this one, to see the moment in time in which we exist and are present, and to be able to contextualize it, to understand where we exist in the history and in the moment as it relates not only to the past but the future.”

What? That demonstrated genuine cognitive depth akin to a twelve-fingered Trump.

I could go on, showing how this message’s first premise haunts us. Indeed, things are not always as they seem. Knowing this, discernment is necessary. However, to get there, study is required. For example, did Trump really say that there’d be a bloodbath if he didn’t win the forthcoming election in November? Yes, he did. But what did he mean by it? Was he talking about a violent uprising, as the Democrats and media keep insisting, or was he referring specifically to the economy and the effects of certain trade agreements relative to American auto manufacturers? For the proper context, skip the baiting headlines and find the actual speech. You’ll have everything you need to decide.

How about the plot to kidnap Michigan’s Governor Whitmer? Was it really the brainchild of right-wing extremists? Look into it. Having graduated from the FBI Citizen’s Academy in June and experienced first-hand the Bureau’s prejudice against conservatives, I found it interesting that many in the extremist group were actually FBI informants or agents. The others were mostly exonerated. Those who weren’t—the handful who pled guilty—also pled entrapment, insisting they never would have come up with the idea, let alone acted on it, had it not been for the government’s influence. In other words, they were set up. Considering the timeline and its significance, the notably stalwart-against-right-wing extremism, Gretchen Whitmer, was handily re-elected, and both legislative chambers flipped from Republican to Democrat. A massive shift like that hasn’t happened in Michigan since 1983. It seems awfully Reichstag-like. What do I mean by that? Search “Reichstag Fire.” Even the first few paragraphs of the Wikipedia article will tell you everything you need to know.

How about the inconceivable idea that Planned Parenthood, as a commercial gimmick, might provide free abortions during the Democratic National Convention in Chicago next week? “That’s blatantly untrue,” were one friend’s stern online words. “That’s spreading misinformation!” Except, it isn’t. A Planned Parenthood branch—Green Rivers in Saint Louis—announced they’re taking their mobile clinic to Chicago, where they’ll park during the convention. “Here we come, Chicago!” they tweeted joyfully. “Our mobile health clinic will be in the West Loop… Aug 19-20, providing FREE vasectomies & medication abortion. EC [emergency contraception] will also be available for free without an appointment.” The post included a link for online reservations.

How about an easier one—a question that requires no investigation but instead begins with mere sensibility?

Should I trust the science? Should I get this vaccine and take that pill and wear this mask and have that procedure performed simply because the doctors and scientists—the experts—said I should? I wouldn’t even buy shoes without doing some research. I certainly wouldn’t do it simply because the shoe salesman—the product expert—said so.

In all things, investigate, discern, and then act. For Christians, the ultimate motivation for this is faithfulness to and alignment with God’s will. That’s the Bible’s uncomplicated direction. And why? Well, for one, only God truly has our best interest at heart. Therefore, we ought not to prefer above God those who can kill the body but cannot kill the soul (Matthew 10:28). We ought not to live in alignment with the world in ways that contradict His Word and trade away our eternal future (Mark 8:34-38). We must be “wise as to what is good and innocent as to what is evil” (Romans 16:19). Indeed, in all things, “we must obey God rather than men” (Acts 5:29).

Knowing this, we dig deeper. Inspired by the Holy Spirit, King Solomon urged, “The heart of him who has understanding seeks knowledge, but the mouths of fools feed on folly” (Proverbs 15:14). Fools post images of 12-fingered Trumps, vehemently arguing the image is real. Hosea insisted, “Whoever is wise, let him understand these things; whoever is discerning, let him know them; for the ways of the Lord are right, and the upright walk in them, but transgressors stumble in them” (Hosea 14:9). Saint John warned that Christians ought to test each spirit before believing it (1 John 4:1). Still, people blanketly believe that as an ELCA Lutheran, Tim Walz is a genuine Lutheran Christian. ELCA Lutheranism is more cult than Christian. It is in no way Lutheran. Genuine Lutheranism does not deny God’s Word is inspired, inerrant, and immutable. Genuine Lutheranism does not support nor promote abortion, transgenderism, social causes that fundamentally reject the Gospel while allowing cities to burn, and all the other leftist ideologies Walz and his beloved ELCA endorse.

The writer to the Hebrews described mature Christianity as the kind with “powers of discernment trained by constant practice to distinguish good from evil” (Hebrews 5:14). Saint Paul reminded the Church in Philippi to pursue the kind of love for God and one another that abounds in “knowledge and all discernment, so that you may approve what is excellent, and so be pure and blameless for the day of Christ” (Philippians 1:9-10). He said the same thing with fewer words in 1 Thessalonians 5:21, writing, “But test everything; hold fast what is good.”

I’ve already gone on long enough, and I think you get the point. So, how about I close with this?

Things are not always as they seem. Therefore, investigate. Become familiar with the characters’ names and the mechanisms’ histories. Read a transcript on occasion. Watch a congressional hearing. Read a little about the actual differences between LCMS and ELCA Lutheranism. Consider the various details you just can’t get in a two-paragraph article or a 30-second news clip. Finally, make sure you’ve answered your own nagging questions about whatever it is you’re investigating. Those questions may actually be unspoken warnings to keep digging.

When you’re finally ready, act. Put your knowledge to work. I’ve heard it said that knowledge must be put where people will trip over it. The Bible speaks similarly, noting that those who have the Word of God and the knowledge it gives will practice it. Those who do not ultimately deceive themselves in ways that could result in their unfortunate judgment (James 1:22, 2 Peter 2:21-22, Hebrews 10:26-30).

Investigate, discern, and then put your knowledge to work. Start tripping people with knowledge. And not only the identifiable (and beneficial) boundaries of right and wrong, truth and untruth, but also the better facts of sin and grace—namely, the life, death, and resurrection of Christ for the world’s rescue. As a Christian who knows stuff, you may only be working part-time if that’s missing from your efforts.

Fake Palm Trees

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If you’ve ever been to my office, then you know I have a palm tree. Jennifer bought it for me as a Christmas gift last year. It’s fake, of course, mainly because I’m no horticulturist. Even a cactus will see me coming and take its own life. Nevertheless, real or fake, the tree rises from my office’s corner, a few of its frons reaching toward and over my desk. I like it. It looks real enough for its purpose, which is to help with the winter doldrums.

I wrote a few years ago in an AngelsPortion.com post about wanting to grow a live palm tree here in Michigan. If you’re interested, you can read about it here. I researched the different kinds, eventually learning there is one capable of withstanding occasionally colder climates. Unfortunately, in this case, natural law reestablished itself. For starters, a palm tree that can withstand occasionally colder climates is not the same as one that can withstand cold climates. Occasionally colder and regularly cold are two very different things. The former assumes more warmth than chill. The latter understands the opposite. Michigan is not just occasionally colder than places like Florida. It’s cold, and it can be so for long periods—as many as eight months. I think the way I described it in the post was that snow does not exist in Michigan; instead, Michigan exists in snow.

I grew up in central Illinois. It gets cold there. It has snow, too. I read C.S. Lewis’ The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe as a kid, and I’ve since reread it to my children as an adult in Michigan. There is the following moment in the volume between Mr. Tumnus and Lucy, which reads:

“It is winter in Narnia,” said Mr. Tumnus, “and has been for ever so long….”

As a kid, I don’t remember reading that line and thinking, “Ugh, just like Illinois.” Maybe that’s because I thought a lot differently about winter as a child. I can assure you I absolutely do remember reading the story to my son, Joshua, and thinking, “Narnia must be located somewhere here in Michigan.”

I won’t drone on about this anymore. You already know my love affair with summer. Relative to real and fake palm trees, however, there is at least something to be mined from my complaint. Maybe think of it this relatively simple way.

A human with XY chromosomes, even as he may suffer characteristics or physical abnormalities that make him appear feminine, is a male, and as is usually the case, his baseline capabilities native to his chromosomal standard, if left to develop, will prove predominant. In the same way, a human with XX chromosomes, while she may suffer from abnormal masculine attributes, is a female, and her developmental trajectory will inevitably prove it.

Lin Yu-ting and Imane Khelif, two individuals with XY chromosomes who unsurprisingly dominated the female Olympic boxing scene and ultimately fought one another for the gold, are artificial palm trees in Michigan. To this very day, even after suffering the typical progressive rhetoric, the International Boxing Association (IBA) insists they are men, having disqualified them from participating in IBA-sanctioned bouts. Yu-ting and Khelif were tested chromosomally, and the results were unquestionable. They are men. Both were given the opportunity to appeal the results. Yu-ting did not. Khelif did at first but then withdrew the appeal.

Why? Because a second test, like the first, would have doubly certified both are artificial palm trees—fake women—and they do not belong in women’s sports.

“Then why were they allowed to compete in the Olympics?”

First, you’re asking why the same organization that gave us an opening ceremony awash in transgenders with uncovered genitalia parodying Da Vinci’s “The Last Supper” would allow men pretending to be women to compete in female sports. That alone should answer your question. The International Olympic Committee (IOC) was infected by the woke mind virus years ago, and gender has long since lost its meaning among its members. Second, while the IBA determines gender through testing, the IOC’s only gender determination comes from what’s printed on an athlete’s passport.

“But it’s not that simple, Pastor Thoma. These athletes are human beings suffering from a rare condition.”

And yet, strangely, these poor, marginalized human beings suffering from a rare condition handily destroyed every female boxer from every other country, eventually competing for gold in their individual weight divisions. What an underdog story this is. Or isn’t.

With respect, I’m not buying that argument. I’m convinced the “rare condition” discussion was popularized and used as a pity-generating excuse to make more room for gender confusion, especially since it didn’t emerge until much later in the controversy—and it was never fully substantiated. In addition, the IBA and its doctors—collectively, the recognized worldwide boxing authority—outright rejected the premise relative to women’s sports. Instead, they insisted XY boxers would always put XX boxers in danger. That’s no small thing.

Still, as blurry or unsubstantiated as the excuse may be, let’s say these men actually do have an abnormal condition. My response would not change, except maybe to say their condition saddens me. Such is sin’s dreadful fingerprint upon human flesh. Nevertheless, a person with no arms, for as unfortunate as his condition might be, cannot participate in an arm-wrestling competition. That is his lot. I have a terrible back. There are things I cannot do that others can. This is a thorn for me. I plead daily for relief. And yet, Saint Paul teaches: “I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness’” (2 Corinthians 12:7-9). Paul carried on in his lot, unable to be or do anything other than what he was.

If Lin Yu-ting’s and Imane Khelif’s conditions prevent them from competing, then so be it. It’s tragic, but it’s a tragedy that exists within reality, and we all bear thorns that prevent us from one thing or another in that sphere.

And so, yes, it really is that simple. Behold the XY’s innate advantage over its XX counterpart. Blow after blow, it asserts its natural physical dominance over its female opponents, and it does so to the women’s danger. To micromanage and ultimately convolute the issue through supposed transgender or intersex equality excuse-making only demonstrates a cultural infection that threatens to uproot far more than women’s sports. It threatens humanity’s future.

A real palm tree will not grow in a Michigander’s front yard. If you see one, it’s fake. It does not belong.

Vacation’s End

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Last week, more than one person asked me about my vacation. Some wondered aloud if it had been sufficiently refreshing, asking if I felt rejuvenated. In most instances, I gave the same answer. It was usually something like, “Vacation is always nice, of course, but the first week back in the office is like drinking from a firehose.” That is a less descriptive but congenial way of saying two things I’m really thinking.

The first of my two thoughts, if fully extrapolated, would probably sound like, “To understand what I mean by firehose, imagine you’re getting a cool drink from a water fountain when, suddenly, the water pressure explodes into your mouth with such force that it knocks you to the floor. Imagine further, after managing to get back to your feet, you lean into the Niagara-like stream, intent on reaching the valve to lessen the pressure, but you can only slip and slide backward, unable to make any progress.”

That’s what the first week back from vacation is like. Last week, I described the allure of “home.” It seems almost bi-polar to admit there’s a dread that palls the return, too. It rides in on the realization that summer’s pace is still only a fraction of the forthcoming autumn’s pace. In other words, it’s tough now, and in a few weeks, it’s only going to get worse.

My second thought is a newly realized but somewhat altered version of something I heard Jennifer say. The night we returned, I overheard from the closet Jennifer comforting Madeline in her post-vacation blues, saying, “I’ve never heard anyone say with glee after vacation, ‘Well, I feel fully rejuvenated and ready to get back to work.’” I realized she was right. I’ve never heard anyone say that, either. If I did, I don’t think I believed them. When I return from vacation, while I may feel partially rested, I do discover wondering thoughts like, ‘Why can’t life remain at this pace all the time?”

I’ve confessed here before to self-diagnosing Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD), which is a depression that sets in during certain seasons of the year. Autumn and winter are very hard on me. Shorter days mean leaving home and returning home in the darkness, with barely a hello from the sun along the way. I don’t enjoy those seasons. I endure them. If there’s something called Vacation Affective Disorder (VAD), I probably have it, too. In fact, the day before returning home from vacation is so powerfully threatening for me that I’ve noticed I don’t feel much like eating. I have to make myself do it. It’s a bizarre sensation. It’s also very real.

Relative to these burdens, I do have two things going for me. First, I don’t like to lose. This means that once I conceptualize SAD and VAD as the imposing specters they are, I begin laboring toward their defeat. It’s then I stop wondering if I can make it through and start thinking about how I’ll make it through and what it’ll be like on the other side. Second, I’m not a quitter. Whatever I start, I finish. I’ve always been that way, especially when facing adversity. In a strictly human sense, it’s probably one of the only reasons I’m still a pastor. The harder Satan (and certain people) push to drive me out, the more I find myself leaning into the attempts with a concrete-like unwillingness to budge. Of course, as I do this, I remain in constant prayer that the instinct is not pride-driven. It certainly has that potential. Looking backward with humble honesty, I can see times when I stood my ground for foolish reasons. Conversely, I can also see plenty of times when God weaponized these personality traits, ultimately using them for His glory and the good of His people.

I’m not a subscriber to the weird world of psychophysiology (sometimes called biopsychology), which is the field of study devoted to the interconnectedness of the mind and body. I don’t dig all that deeply into it because its two-fold perspective excludes the spiritual dimension. Still, I had a conversation this past week with someone I care about, and it got me thinking about the basic premise. Truly, there’s something to be said in a cursory sense about the mind/body connection. For example, I mentioned during the conversation General George Patton’s insistence that “to win any battle, you have to do one thing. You have to make the mind run the body. Never let the body tell the mind what to do.” His wartime record proved his words true. But regardless, the Bible speaks on occasion about the connection. Saint Paul writes in Colossians 3:2, “Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth.” In Romans 12:2, he writes, “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.”

In both texts, Paul pits the mind against what’s physical. It isn’t a Gnostic thing he’s doing. Instead, he’s simply acknowledging the importance of what Christians know by faith to be the better rudder for navigating what we experience with our physical senses. Digging deeper, that’s more or less epicentral to his words in 2 Corinthians 4:7-9, where he writes:

“But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.”

In other words, even as we see and experience the world churning around and against us, there’s something else we know: we are not inheritors of this world but of the world to come. And so, Paul continues:

“We know that the one who raised the Lord Jesus from the dead will also raise us with Jesus…. Therefore, we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So, we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal” (vv. 14, 16-18).

I mentioned before that psychophysiology does not calculate for the spirit. It certainly doesn’t account for the work of the Holy Spirit. The Bible doesn’t make that mistake. It makes sure we understand each facet of body, mind, and spirit relative to the Holy Spirit’s work to instill faith. Chapter 8 in Paul’s Epistle to the Romans is a great place to see this. It’s there Paul refers to believers as those “who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit” (v. 4). In other words, the Holy Spirit empowers Christians to yield their fleshly bodies to God in faith. Paul describes the Christian mind in the same way, reminding the reader that “those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh, but those who live according to the Spirit set their minds on the things of the Spirit” (v. 5). Following some elaboration, he eventually brings the body and mind together with the spirit—all beneath the banner of the Holy Spirit’s work. He writes:

“You, however, are not in the flesh but in the Spirit if, in fact, the Spirit of God dwells in you. Anyone who does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him. But if Christ is in you, although the body is dead because of sin, the Spirit is life because of righteousness. If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ Jesus from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through his Spirit who dwells in you” (vv. 9-11).

The first few weeks after returning from vacation are hard on me. They’re an existential wrestling match between body and mind, presence and purpose. I’m guessing it’s the same for many of you. But there’s something else happening there, too. The Holy Spirit is at work. By His might, I can shift my perspective away from these things toward the Gospel of Christ’s life, death, and resurrection. It’s by this Gospel I am thoroughly sustained. This isn’t to say that the challenges suddenly disappear or that the frustration is magically lifted. But I do discover I have the bodily strength to endure and the mental clarity to sort through and eventually understand beyond the immediate discomforts.

So, even as the first week back may feel like drinking from a firehose, and life’s pace may continue to increase, I am reminded that my truest rejuvenation doesn’t come from a vacation. Only by the Holy Spirit at work through the Gospel am I renewed and sustained, not only for whatever this life might send my way but for the life to come. Such knowledge makes even the busiest seasons bearable and ultimately purposeful.

One more thing. While I may take vacations, God doesn’t. He’s ever-vigilant and always working, ready to give what we need the most. As a result, His life-sustaining Gospel remains here at Our Savior in Hartland, Michigan, season after season.