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A therapist once pointedly suggested that I was experiencing shame. I promptly suggested she was wrong.

Right now the Internet is full of predictions, invitations to new year’s resolutions, and promises about what 2017 could be with the right [insert latest product/diet/happy thought here].

If I, a woman, were to write the gospel of the entry of God into the world as one of us, I’m pretty sure I would not start with his human genealogy, as Matthew does. 

Advent is a season of anticipation. Anticipation for a Savior to bring light into a dark world. But it has a melancholy tenor to it. It’s the time before the joyous celebration of Jesus’ birth that we remember at Christmas. A time of uncertainty.

The Nicene Council decided that the triune Godhead is fully present in Jesus, in whom the reality of God’s love for humanity is demonstrated. Furthermore, and most importantly for our understanding of missional Christianity, the incarnation implies our participation in this fallen world’s healing.

For the time being, I’m ignoring the toys and socks strewn across my living room to sit on my couch and drink tea. 

Sadly, we in the U.S. are not widely recognized as learners, as thoughtful disciples, as understanding people. We are still mostly known for our lack of language learning, our ethnocentricity, and our cultural imperialism, all understandably. But thankfully, we are growing.

Few things in life are as frustrating as a terrible job.

Reasons for our lack of lived-out unity are many. I offer four themes I’ve observed and questions to consider.

Love is a pretty big deal.