Encourage-[en-kur-ij] to inspire with courage, spirit, or confidence.
The enCourage Blog is weekly dose of encouragement in a world that is often filled with bad news. We offer life-giving entries each Monday and Thursday written by gifted women from across our denomination, the Presbyterian Church in America (PCA). You can subscribe below to have them delivered to your inbox. With hundreds of blog pieces, you can search on a variety of topics in the search bar above to read and share with friends. Christina Fox, a gifted author, serves as our enCourage General Editor. If you are interested in submitting a piece, you can contact her at cfox@pcanet.org.
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The Object of Our Thanksgiving
KERRY ANDERSON | GUEST Thank you note season is here. Though a waning tradition, I’m still a sucker for nice stationery, cute note cards, and handwritten thank you’s. And while we didn’t always nail the follow through (more than once I’ve found one of those unstamped, unmailed letters months later), we really did try to have our kids and ourselves write thank you notes for the gifts received on birthdays and holidays. The content was rarely substantial or original. Most started with the expected, “Dear Grandma, Thank you for the….” But, they were something. They acknowledged receipt of the gift and expressed gratitude for it. With pressing, my children would expand a bit more about the gift and its utility or their enthusiasm for it. It was progress in gratitude, at least in practice. But something was missing As I reflect now, generating enthusiasm for the gift falls short of the goal. Maybe rather than piling up attributes toward the thing received, perhaps the first two words of a thank you note are the ones that really matter. It’s the “Dear Grandma (or whoever),” the person opening and reading that note that is critical. We could all write lengthy, detailed thank you notes for gifts we receive, but if we don’t address and give them to someone, and the giver never actually sees or hears our words of thanks, our gratitude is lacking, empty, and misplaced. It becomes merely an advertisement for a product. The Object of our Thanks A sermon on this from years ago stuck with me (bringing in grammar concepts always perks my ears up) when my pastor explained that our thanks must have an object. There must be a receiver (God) of our expressions of thanks. We aren’t to be just thankful for something we’ve received. We’re to be thankful TO God for giving it to us. As believers, the object of our thanksgiving is not the gift; it is the giver...
Gethsemane Glasses
LAURA PATTERSON | GUEST I awoke that Friday morning in May to the same white walls and sterile smell for the twenty-second day in a row. The same dingy blinds covered the same window. The birthday cards I’d received the week prior were still taped up on the mirror on the far wall. The now familiar white blanket engulfed my legs and torso. The sense of familiarity I’d come to find in my surroundings was suddenly arrested that morning as feelings of shock, dread, and numbness flooded my body and left me wondering if I was truly awake. I’d just given birth during the wee hours of the morning and, after being returned to my antepartum room without my baby, I had somehow managed to sleep for an hour or two. Doctors, nurses, and a lactation consultant visited me in my haze, and I eventually got the news that I could go meet my child. My nurse assisted me into a wheelchair, and I took the longest ride of my life to the adjoining children’s hospital. I knew I was headed to meet my baby in the neonatal intensive care unit, but no amount of exposure or information could have prepared me for the shock of meeting my two-and-a-half-pound infant covered in tubes, lines, and bruises. The well-intentioned nurse assigned to my son that day noticed my tears, came to the bedside, and said gently, “it’s ok, mom.” “NO, IT’S NOT!” I yelled deep within my soul. From Demanding to Entrusting My internal cry that morning was full of truth. My baby was not ‘ok’. The neonatologist sat my husband and I down in a private room only hours later to help us understand that we should expect our son to die within a couple of days’ time. I felt the very visceral reality of life in a sin-sick, disease-laden, death-cursed world. Crying, ‘It’s not ok!’ wasn’t wrong. But it was incomplete...
A Book for All Seasons
CHRISTINE GORDON | CONTRIBUTOR Everyone has a water bottle nowadays. They come in every size and color, with a variety of price points and mechanisms. You can find them in the hands of schoolchildren, construction workers, bank tellers, and everyone in between—and that’s a good thing. We’ve learned that an appropriate amount of water in specific body systems can make or break our health. According to the Harvard T.H. Chan School of Public Health, proper hydration regulates body temperature, keeps joints lubricated, prevents infections, delivers nutrients to cells, helps organs function properly, improves sleep quality, helps cognition, and regulates mood.[1] While most of us forget to drink as much as we should, most Americans now understand at least some of hydration’s benefits and try to get their glasses in every day. We know water will help us to function and even thrive, so we make sure to have it with us, no matter what we’re doing. What if we thought about Scripture like water? Oh, I know the messages that are out there. There are enough “shoulds” about Scripture reading in the Christian world to choke us, which is what they normally do. We’re told we should read the Bible for lots of reasons, many of which involve some sort of shame spiral if we don’t. They can sound like this: “How will your children learn to love the Bible if they don’t see you loving it?” “How will you know Jesus if you don’t read his Word?” “If you have time to watch TV, you have time to read the Word.” These may be true, but I don’t know that they’re the best motivators for a joyous occasion of intimacy with our Lord. What if you thought about the Bible like you do your water bottle—something your soul needs to survive and thrive, that can refresh and reset, regulate and help you to function, even prosper? Believe it or not, this is what the Bible says about itself...
The Assumptions We Make
LISA UPDIKE | GUEST We were getting pedicures—a splurge! Two women sat at our feet, trimming our nails, and chatting. One of them said something and they both began giggling. My daughter and I exchanged glances. We couldn’t speak their language and the first thing we assumed was that they were laughing at one of our feet. Haven’t you made those types of assumptions? Conversation is flowing, you hear it down the hall…you walk in…things fall silent. “Were they talking about me?” Someone looks up and then away. “Are they trying to avoid me?” You send a text with cute emojis, get a one-word response, and immediately think, “Is she mad at me?” The Danger with Assumptions Ugh! Soon we’re enslaved by our assumptions. Our concern over what someone might be thinking robs us of freedom while our inner middle-school girl begins to run our life. We avoid relationships, assuming that others will judge us for our struggles. We might dodge the put-together woman at church because, juice on our blouse, we’re worried she’ll critique our disheveled appearance. Meanwhile, she is desperately lonely, and misses being with children. We move through our lives, thinking we know the hearts and minds of others, behaving as if our assumptions are actually facts. How careful we must be, for it is from the well of such assumptions that we are prone to draw insecurity—a poisonous drink...
