One Quiet Life

To be a Christian is to be a thinking being and to think most deeply about the most profound things - the nature of God and the ways of God in the universe. - Thabiti Anyabwile ( source ) I've been thinking a lot lately. So much so that I often feels as if the majority of my conversations begin with the words, I think... Isn't that a dangerous business, to launch into discussion based on opinion rather than fact? It's the way of the world these days, particularly on social media. Truth seems to be a luxury that many people are quick to ignore. Emotions and obfuscation are prevalent in many online debates, which seems to make them more appealing to the masses as people hop on to the bandwagon du jour . This trend of valuing emotions over rational thought isn't limited to cyberspace; it is slowly - or not so slowly - invading everyday life. The church is not immune, and may be especially vulnerable to this pitfall. I've encountered plenty of believers who eleva

(source)  I rarely click on Twitter threads, but this one caught my eye because its subject was a beloved show. And there in the middle was a question, Wouldn’t it be beautiful if we cared for one another as if we were all midwives?  For weeks now I've been pondering the parallels between a midwife and a believer in Christ. The ladies at Nonnatus House are there for the best and worst of life. They care for expectant mothers and the least of these in their community. They offer genuine care and comfort during life's most precious and difficult moments. They hide their revulsion at the filth that so often surrounds them. They lend a handkerchief when needed, and are quick with their encouragement and humor. They tell hard truths with compassion, and cheer others on as they push through the pain. What would the church look like if believers did that for each other? If we offered to come alongside our sisters as they grieve, suffer, and rejoice? If we quit worrying