At our house, we call it “getting beautiful.”

It's the process of standing in front of the bathroom mirror, trying to make ourselves look presentable.

Ava and Emma (ages eight and five) have grown to love this time because Diana curls their hair and adorns their cherubic faces with a bit of blush or eye makeup. They like it so much that if my wife is running late (and they don't want to wait around), before running off to play, the girls will plead with Diana, “Don’t get beautiful without us!”

We all want to be lovely. But the ugly truth is, apart from Christ, we haven’t even a shred of beauty. However, because of Christ, we are fully “accepted in the beloved” (Ephesians 1:6). If you know Christ, you are at this moment, this age, this dress or waist size fully acceptable, fully pleasing in His sight. So, stop agonizing over the question, “Am I lovely?”

That said, you will never be lovelier than when you love the unlovely. And loving the unlovely is a powerful trait Christ seeks in our lives. In Matthew 5:44,45, Jesus declared, 

But I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may prove yourselves to be sons of your Father who is in heaven.

I don’t know about you, but I find it much easier to serve/assist/love people who talk, look, and live like me. But the homeless guy that wanders around our train station makes me uncomfortable. So does the lady who shouts profanity into her phone at 5:55 am. I haven't loved either of them very well.

The folks who seem determined to take away our freedoms, destroy the family, and relish likening Christians to the Taliban— these are the very people Christ calls us to love. So much for equating love with a rose bouquet or heart-shaped box of chocolates.

It’s great to be loved—and lovely. And because of Christ, we are both. But surely—surely—there is some unlovely person in your life who needs to see something of the beauty of Jesus in you.

Who are the unlovely people in your life? What could you do to enter into their world in a Jesus kind of way?

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Lying on a metal table while being slid into a claustrophobia-inducing tube is nobody’s idea of a fun time. But that’s where my wife, Diana, found herself recently.

As she tried not to think about how uncomfortable that cylindrical scanner made her feel, Diana noticed the MRI machine seemed to be tapping out a (loud!) rhythm pattern in 4/4. So, she decided to sing herself hymns and praise songs—to the rhythm of the machine. She recounts how that choice greatly impacted her ability to overcome the discomfort.

Difficult tests are nothing new. But Diana's strategy of praising in the middle of the discomfort is profoundly biblical.

Fleeing from his murder-minded son, Absalom, David wrote, "Many are rising up against me" (Psalm 3:2). But in the middle of this horrific family revolt, he ends his Psalm declaring, "Salvation belongs to the Lord; may Your blessing be upon Your people" (Psalm 3:8). But please note, the drama was still unfolding, and circumstances were still tense!

Consider Jonah’s declaration—while still sloshing in the belly of the whale: “But I will sacrifice to You with a voice of thanksgiving. That which I have vowed I will pay. Salvation is from the Lord.” (Jonah 2:9).

Then, ponder Paul and Silas. Their backs were still oozing with pus and blood while their legs ached from the chafing of chains. Yet Acts 16:25 records, “Now about midnight, Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns of praise to God, and the prisoners were listening to them.”

Hebrews 13:15 urges, “Let’s continually offer up a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips praising His name.” The thing about sacrifices is—they always cost.

Have you noticed how natural and easy it is to sing praise songs in church on Sundays? The lighting is perfect. The stage is perfect. The sound is perfect. So, praise flows normally and naturally. We love it! Let's be honest, though. As lovely as it may be, that kind of praise doesn't cost us much.

But offering God our praise from inside the prison, inside the whale, or the MRI machine—now that is a “praise of great price.” May God help us as we seek to give Him that praise of great price!

There’s something sick about a society that demands we prove our loyalty to some— by hating others. But in today's America, we seem to have lost our capacity to disagree without being ugly. Worse, we’re proud of it.

If you want to be "in" with Crowd A, you can't just prefer A or disagree with Crowd B; you must positively despise the other guys. And prove it with your poison-loaded posts! This, in an age of “inclusiveness” and “tolerance.” Beyond hubris, this is hogwash—not to mention harmful.

Though I'm no fan of rap music and don't endorse Snoop Dogg as a role model, I was intrigued by what happened when he agreed to sing at an inaugural event for President Trump. He was thoroughly trashed on social media. And much of the trash talk was predictably vulgar.

Snoop—who currently has 88.1 million Instagram followers — lost more than 570,000 after his performance. But his response is noteworthy. He said, "For all the hate, I'm going to answer with love. We gotta learn how to pick each other up rather than put each other down."

Snoop Dogg, it should be noted, has his own history of caustic comments (as does President Trump). Yet his point is valid. More than that, Snoop is right.

Whether it's Democrats versus Republicans, union workers versus non-union, American citizens versus illegal aliens, how can we call ourselves Christ-followers if we engage in conversations that:

• Soak in sarcasm…
• Bake in bitterness…
• Pickle with poison...

By contrast, Colossians 4:6 demands of us, "Your speech must always be with grace, as though seasoned with salt so that you will know how you should respond to each person."

Yes, we have opinions. Yes, there are issues and people that “get our goat.” But shouldn’t we be different? Shouldn’t we be better?

Stop the hate! That’s more than a slogan on the back of an NFL helmet.

It’s the JESUS way—and we had better find that way and live that way.

“See that no one repays another with evil for evil but always seek what is good for one another and for all people.”

-1Thessalonians 5:15

Are you robbing God?

“What kind of ridiculous question is that?” you reply.

It’s a legitimate question, that’s what kind.

For many years, I've designated my time on the train ride into Chicago for Bible reading and prayer. Nothing else is supposed to infringe. It's a simple commitment, and this habit has significantly blessed me. What could be a better start to the day?

But for some reason, lately, I've struggled. My phone routinely buzzes with an "urgent" text from a family member or an "essential" email from a guest we will interview. Then, there's that task I forgot to put on the calendar and must do before I forget again. And—really—could it possibly be a sin to check on the latest NFL standings briefly?

I recall opening my Bible on more than one occasion but then getting lost in so many of my phone's pings, dings, and rings, I was jolted back to consciousness only by the train conductor's announcement that we were approaching our last stop—the Chicago train station. In other words, I'd completely missed my time with God.

Knowing you've frittered away an exclusive audience with the King of the universe for tasks and people who could have waited makes for a rotten feeling. How sickening to ponder I've given everything and everyone priority over God.

The only honest label for this is—robbing God. 

You ask, “But can’t you make that time up later?” Not really. Once I arrive at the office, it’s time to get cracking on all the scripts, recordings, and editing that await. In essence, I've managed to start—and finish—an entire workday without the blessing that comes from being with God. And yes, I could recreate that time with the Lord on the ride home or later in the evening. But it’s just not the same.

It’s like setting up a special date with a friend or spouse, forgetting about it, and then promising to make up the time. You can do it. But it’s still not the same.

When someone is a priority, you know it. And they know it.

Not by our words but by our actions.

So—are you robbing God?

“But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness…”

—Matthew 6:33

Unless you are Danielle Steele, Dean Koontz, J.K. Rowling, or Stephen King, you probably need coaching with your writing. Being in great need, I’m greatly helped by an online grammar checker. It sniffs out sentences written in the passive voice, adjectives whose modified nouns are unclear, commas that have been misplaced or misused—and many other writing sins.

Though I tend to accept most suggestions, I was bemused by a message that popped up in a recent critique of something I’d written (screenshot below):

"The word Jesus appears repeatedly in this text. Consider changing it or rewriting the sentence to avoid the repetition.”

Obviously, that assessment is the product of an algorithm, not the expression of a real person. Nevertheless, a large and growing segment of Americans share that precise sentiment.

We’re okay with God. Or gods. We are not okay with Jesus.

Our culture now dictates, "Pray, privately, if you must--and in public very rarely. Above all, never pray in Jesus’ name." Because the truth is, for some, any mention of Jesus is too many.

In case you’re wondering, my response to that online critique was to ignore it. I did not remove or replace a single reference to Jesus. And neither should you.

This world has never been a friend to Jesus or His followers. And things are about to get a lot more “un-chummier.” But let’s not change our love or our loyalty. Let’s not avoid Jesus. Let’s cling to Him all the more.

 “For whoever is ashamed of Me and My words, the Son of Man will be ashamed of him when He comes in His glory and the glory of the Father and the holy angels.

Luke 9:26