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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God is Our Helper in Suffering
My Help Comes from the Lord A Song of Ascents. Psalm 121 1 I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come? 2 My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth. 3 He will not let your foot be moved; he who keeps you will not slumber. 4 Behold, he who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep. 5 The Lord is your keeper; the Lord is your shade on your right hand. 6 The sun shall not strike you by day, nor the moon by night. 7 The Lord will keep you from all evil; he will keep your life. 8 The Lord will keep your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forevermore. A few weeks ago, my family and I joyfully approached the end of my husband’s nine-week assignment away from us. He was set to fly home from a base near Montgomery, Alabama, but as the day approached, we realized that Hurricane Helene was the last obstacle between us. As we watched the weather coverage, we recalled our own experience of Hurricane Ian when it came ashore in south Florida. As we remembered visiting our neighbors' soggy homes and apartments, washing their laundry, and sorting through their belongings hoping to find a starting place to rebuild, we now prayed for many friends whose lives would be impacted by another great storm. Encouragement from Psalm 121 Psalm 121, a song of ascents, played in the background of my thoughts as I texted and messaged our PCA family. These fifteen psalms are a familiar text that I use to ponder our pilgrim life lived in community. But these last difficult days, this psalm has been a prayer for our sisters, scattered throughout Florida and the southeast. The psalmist knew his vulnerability as he scrambled up the hillside toward Jerusalem. He was not alone, but still, the pilgrims who ascended this trail were susceptible to falling, scorching sun in the day, bandits, flash floods, wild animals, dehydration, and sheer exhaustion. Without a GPS, map, or compass, there may have been moments on the path when one would wonder if they had lost the way. Something about this climb made the pilgrims’ vulnerability more obvious...
Pray for Your Pastor
BARBARANNE KELLY | CONTRIBUTOR “[Pray] also for me” —Ephesians 6:19 How do you pray for your pastor? Some of the most beautiful, personal, and instructive prayers in the New Testament are written by the Apostle Paul, expressing his own prayers for his beloved readers. But when he sprinkles prayer requests for himself into his letters, these too are instructive. Paul’s prayers are notable not only for what he requests, but also for what he doesn’t. When writing from prison, Paul doesn’t ask that his prayer warriors seek God for his release, personal comfort, or vengeance against his captors. These would have been merely temporary goals after all, and Paul’s eyes were fixed on a farther horizon. In one instance he does ask for a warm cloak and his books (2 Tim. 4:13), but as he closes his letter to the Ephesian churches, he asks for words and boldness to preach the gospel. Paul’s priorities for prayer are centered upon his calling as a minister of the Word. Taking our cue from Paul, what does your pastor need most? Words If anyone had words at his disposal, it was the Apostle Paul. Prior to his arrest and imprisonment, his ministry focused on the verbal proclamation—oftentimes spontaneously—of the gospel of Jesus Christ. He spoke before Jews and Gentiles, servants, philosophers, and kings. The words he wrote in letters to churches and his friends and proteges fill the New Testament, revealing the mystery of the gospel and the transcendent God of heaven. And yet he knew he needed Holy Spirit-inspired words with which to deliver his life-giving and Christ-centered message. He didn’t want his own words; he wanted God’s words. The reason Paul had words to communicate the message of salvation at all was because he had the help of the Spirit of Jesus Christ and a growing army of prayer warriors pleading for the gospel to flourish under his ministry (Phil. 1:19). Pray that your pastor would have Spirit-empowered words to preach the gospel in season and out....
The Gift of Crisis
LYNNE RIENSTRA | GUEST I was at our denomination’s General Assembly when I received the call from my radiologist: “Mrs. Rienstra, your tests reveal that you have breast cancer.” Fast forward to six weeks later. As my husband was driving me home from the surgery that removed my cancer, a car ran a stop sign and slammed into us, right in front of where I was sitting. Within minutes I found myself in an ambulance on my way to yet another hospital. Crisis. It’s the gift none of us wants. Because when crisis comes, it broadsides us. It reminds us that in spite of our best efforts, we are ultimately out of control. Crisis exposes us as those who are in deep need and unable to help ourselves. It causes us to cry out to God. But what if at that very point, crisis turned out to be a gift? Crisis Reveals More of God to Us When crisis hit the family of Mary and Martha of Bethany (John 11:1-44), they never dreamed that embedded in the sickness of their brother Lazarus was the extraordinary opportunity to experience Jesus in a whole new way. The sisters knew two things: Jesus loved them and their brother (vv. 3; 5), and Jesus had the power to heal. So, when their brother Lazarus fell ill, they did what any of us would have done: they asked Jesus for help. Having sent for Jesus, the sisters expected to see Him arrive quickly and save the day. Only He didn’t. One day passed, and Lazarus worsened. Another day passed, and their worst fears were realized. Lazarus died. Lazarus was buried. And still no sign of Jesus…. When Jesus finally did come, Martha ran out to meet Him, saying, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died” (v. 21). With Lazarus’s body decaying in a nearby tomb, Jesus made the stunning revelation that He is “resurrection and the life” (v. 25). And in faith-filled response, Martha proclaimed, “Yes, Lord; I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God…” (v. 27). Here’s my question: Would this essential truth have been revealed to Martha apart from the wrenching loss of her brother? Let’s also consider her sister, Mary, still back at the house, suffering in deep grief. This is the Mary whom Jesus had invited to sit at His feet. She had chosen the better part. Mary knew Jesus loved her and her brother. But the crisis of Lazarus’s death may have caused her to wonder (as we often do in our own crises): “Why didn’t Jesus come? I thought I knew Him. I must have lost His love.”...
Christian Love in Times of Political Division
AMANDA DUVALL | GUEST Among the cute photos of babies, puppies, and family vacations on social media— you see it. A friend from church posts a political message, and you cannot believe they vote for that person. Or support that cause. Or believe that news story. Maybe you reach for the quick “unfollow” button so you don’t have to see their posts anymore. Now, what happens when we walk into church and run into that person? We want to do the real world equivalent of an “unfollow.” Remove that person from our lives— if not entirely, at least put some distance between us. On the outside, everything probably looks the same, but the communion once shared has shifted, maybe even broken. This is not to downplay the real hurt we can experience in our relationships as the world becomes more politicized. It’s not just the election—there is almost no part of our society, public or private, untouched by politics. Maybe because of this, we tend to think our divisiveness today is so uniquely difficult for the Church to navigate. But then we read the New Testament. The first Christians hailed from every walk of life, and so, it was not uncommon to find a rich and educated individual, who just last month was participating in pagan rituals, right alongside a poor Jew, who had no power or property and adhered to some very strict personal ethics. Imagine for a second with me, then, what these relationships might have looked like— so easily laced with misunderstanding and awkwardness, offense, hurt, and downright rudeness. There was no earthly reason for these people to share anything in common. But in telling the Colossians about their new community, Paul says this, “Here there is not Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave, free; but Christ is all, and in all” (3:11)...
