The last month of the year has begun, and for a while now I have been contemplating some goals for the new year. I’m realizing—hopefully not too late in life—that I’ve never really been great at setting and pursuing annual goals.   As I finish another year of singleness, it suddenly occurs to me to ask, Can I make marriage a goal for the new year?   Obviously, the answer is No. A goal has to be something that I can control. Marriage classifies as a desire.   But is it a desire I can pursue? If so, what does that mean?   And in light of God’s sovereignty, should it be something that...

Wind.   It swirls around me tonight, with November’s brittle leaves. It stirs mystery within me—the unanswered questions, the life my mother now lives in heaven, things out of my control. Things that might or might not happen.   Its mystery always seems more enhanced, more noticeable, in night’s darkness, in the gaps between seasons.   Wind, how it takes me places, places both dark and bright:   Mystery—that of faith, of beauty in this world, of friendship. Of Christ’s cross.   Wind and Mystery, the voice and the nature of the Holy Spirit, the pain and joy of letting go and...

Last Saturday I spent some quality time with the mountains—the Rocky Mountains, to be specific. All I had to do to see them was sit on the balcony of my lovely hotel room. The sun was warm, the air just cool enough, the sky flawless. The afternoon, perfect.   And the mountains, green-orange-gold with white dots of autumn snow, like sheep.         As I sat on the plane traveling back to Nashville after a wonderful four days in Colorado Springs, I wrote about the spiritual inspiration and refreshment of my trip. Here’s my concluding paragraph, and I hope it encourages and...

I like old poetry and hymns and texts with ancient, mysterious words—as long as I know what those words mean. Knowing the meaning of old, complicated words makes them more beautiful. Here are a few examples of archaic yet lovely language:   From the hymn, “At the Cross,” by Isaac Watts:   Alas! and did my Savior bleed and did my Sovereign die? Would he devote that sacred head for sinners such as I?   A few stanzas from the poem “Light Shining out of Darkness” by William Cowper:   God moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform; He plants his footsteps in the sea, And rides...

By Rachel Empey   A few weeks ago, I sat in the room with one of my sweet sisters while she was laboring to give birth to her first child. Thankful to be by her side, I quietly prayed for God’s grace, and thanked Him for His unfailing faithfulness. This wasn’t the first time I had the incredible privilege of being there when one of my nieces or nephews took their first breath – I hoped it wouldn’t be the last. Being an aunt is one of my favorite roles in life; being a sister is the only thing that compares.   Beneath the soft sounds of heart monitors and hushed voices, however, came the...