In Sweden there’s a concept known as döstädning. It literally means “death cleaning.” The idea is that as we grow older, we should stop accumulating “stuff” and begin to cut out the clutter we have amassed throughout our lives. “Swedish death cleaning” is actually a gift of love to children and friends, for it simplifies for them the task of wading through what we leave behind.

As believers in Jesus, at a certain age we think about our legacy—what survives us. This is often framed in terms of money, inheritance, or charitable giving—and there’s much to be said for that. But it might be helpful to look at Jesus in His final hours with His disciples: “Where I am going, you cannot follow now, but you will follow later” (John 13:36). In In a brief two verses (vv. 34-35), He uses the word love four times—His legacy was love. He told them: “As I have loved you, so you must love one another” (v. 34).

It may be good to do some “Swedish death cleaning” in our lives, removing clutter to leave behind only the most important things. But it really isn’t about things or money. The most important legacy you can leave behind is your love for Jesus. When children and friends remember you as one who loved Jesus, that is the best gift of all. It gives new meaning to the phrase “left behind.”

One of the great hymn writers of all time, Isaac Watts, wrote “When I Survey the Wondrous Cross.” In penning its lyrics, he used the poetic device of paradox to show a contrast in themes: “my richest gain I count but loss” and “pour contempt on all my pride.” We sometimes call these “oxymorons,” words used in seeming contradiction to themselves—like “awfully good” and “jumbo shrimp.” In the case of Watts’s lyrics, this device is far more profound.

Jesus used paradox often. “Blessed are the poor in spirit” (Matthew 5:3), He said, suggesting that those who have no hope will receive more than they could ever hope for. Jesus speaks to you and me who’ve lost someone dear (v. 4), assuring us that those who are sad “will be comforted.” Later in His ministry Jesus says, “Many who are first will be last, and many who are last will be first” (19:30). Jesus was showing how in God’s kingdom the common rules of religion don’t apply.

These paradoxes tell us that life in Christ defies all expectations: we who are nobodies are cherished as somebodies. It was on the cross that Jesus bore a visual paradox—a crown of thorns. Isaac Watts took this symbol of ridicule and, paradoxically, gave it soaring beauty: “Did e’er such love and sorrow meet, / or thorns compose so rich a crown?” In this we thrill yet are mindful of the final line of the hymn: “Love so amazing, so divine, / demands my soul, my life, my all.” 

Most have never heard of Kate Hankey, but she was a remarkable woman. A teacher, evangelist, school organizer, missionary, and poet, she faithfully served Jesus in 1800s England. In 1867, Kate contracted a serious illness. During her recovery, she penned a lengthy poem in two parts “The Story Wanted” and “The Story Told.” The poem expresses in a very personal way her relationship with Jesus and the events of his life.

All of Scripture points to Jesus and tells His story. John begins his epistle reminding readers how they had personally experienced Jesus: “That which . . . we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked at and our hands have touched” (1 John 1:1). Because of our experience of Him, the apostle writes, we’re telling the Jesus story: “The life appeared; we have seen it and testify to it” (v. 2). Later, John makes the fascinating comment, “The word of God lives in you” (2:14). In other words, the Jesus story is our story too. We’re called to tell the story of Jesus in light of our own experience with Him. 

This is what Kate Hankey did in her poem. Eventually, the two parts of her poem became these beloved hymns: “I Love to Tell the Story” and “Tell Me the Old, Old Story.” Perhaps we might, like Kate, find our own words and share our story with Jesus—the unique way in which he loved us, came to us, and rescued us.

It was 1968, and America was mired in a war with Vietnam, racial violence was exploding in cities, and two public figures had been assassinated. A year before, fire had taken the lives of three astronauts on the launchpad, and the idea of going to the moon seemed like a pipe dream. Nonetheless, Apollo 8 managed to launch a few days before Christmas.

It became the first manned mission to orbit the moon. The flight crew, Borman, Anders, and Lovell—all men of faith—broadcast a Christmas Eve message: “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth” (Genesis 1:1). At the time, it was the most watched TV event in the world, and millions shared the God’s-eye view of Earth in a now iconic photo. Frank Borman finished the reading: “And God saw that it was good” (v. 10).

Sometimes it’s hard to look at ourselves, all the hardships we’re mired in, and see anything that’s good. But we might return to the story of creation and see God’s view of us: “In the image of God he created them” (v. 27). Let’s pair that with another divine-eye view: “For God so loved the world” (John 3:16). Today, remember that God created you, sees the good despite the sin, and loves the you He created.

A man in court filed a restraining order against God. He claimed God had been “particularly unkind” to him and had exhibited a “seriously negative attitude.” The presiding judge dismissed the suit, saying the man needed help not from the court but from other sources. A true story: humorous, but also sad—the man needed mental help.

But are we so different? Don’t we sometimes want to say, “Stop, God, please, I’ve had enough!” Job did. The book of Job is very much a story of God on trial. After enduring unspeakable personal tragedies, Job says, “I want to argue my case with God himself” (Job 13:3, nlt). Job speaks of “taking God to court” (9:3 nlt), and he and his friends debate God’s purposes. Job even puts forth a restraining order: “Withdraw your hand far from me and stop frightening me” (13:21). Job’s prosecution argument wasn’t his own innocence but God’s unreasonable harshness: “Does it please you to oppress me?” (10:3).

Sometimes we feel God is unfair. In truth, the story of Job is complex, not providing easy answers. God restores Job’s physical fortunes in the end, but that isn’t always His plan for us. Perhaps we find something of a verdict in Job’s final admission: “I was talking about things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know” (42:3). The point is, God has reasons we know nothing of, and there is wonderful hope in that.

A star quarterback in American football stepped onto a stage that wasn’t a sports stadium. He spoke to three hundred inmates in the Everglades Correctional Facility in Miami, Florida, sharing with them words from Isaiah.

This moment, though, was not about the spectacle of a famous athlete but about a sea of souls broken and hurting. In this special time, God showed up behind bars. One observer tweeted that “the chapel began to erupt in worship and praise.” Men were weeping and praying together. In the end, some twenty-seven inmates gave their lives to Christ.

In a way, we are all in prisons of our own making, trapped behind bars of our greed, selfishness, and addiction. But amazingly, God shows up. In the prison that morning, the key verse was “I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?” (Isaiah 43:19). The passage encourages us to “forget the former things” and “do not dwell on the past” (v. 18) for God says, “I, even I, am he who . . . remembers your sins no more” (v. 25).

Yet God makes it clear: “Apart from me there is no savior” (v. 11). It is only by giving our lives to Christ that we are made free. Some of us need to do that; some of us have done that but need to be reminded of who the Lord of our life truly is. We are assured that, through Christ, God will indeed do “a new thing.” So let’s see what springs up!

On February 5, 2023, Christian Atsu kicked the winning goal for his football (soccer) team in a match in Turkey. A star international player, he learned to play the sport as a kid running barefoot in his home country of Ghana. Christian was a believer in Jesus: “Jesus is the best thing that ever happened in my life,” he said. Atsu posted Bible verses on social media, was outspoken about his faith, and put it into action by helping finance a school for orphans.

The day after his winning goal, a devastating earthquake shook the city of Antakya, once the biblical city of Antioch. Christian Atsu’s apartment building collapsed, and he went to be with his Savior.

Two thousand years ago, Antioch was the fountainhead of the early church: “The disciples were called Christians first at Antioch” (Acts 11:26). One apostle, Barnabas, said to be “a good man, full of the Holy Spirit” (v. 24), was instrumental in bringing people to Christ: “A great number of people believed and turned to the Lord” (v. 21).

We look to the life of Christian Atsu not to idolize him but to see in his example an opportunity. Whatever our circumstance in life, we don’t know when God will take us to be with Him. We do well to ask ourselves how we can be a Barnabas or a Christian Atsu in showing others the love of Christ. That, above all, is the winning goal.

A phobia is defined as the “irrational fear” of certain things or situations. Arachnophobia is a fear of spiders (though some might argue that’s a perfectly rational thing to be afraid of!). Then there’s globophobia and xocolatophobia. These and some four hundred other phobias are real and documented. It seems we can become afraid of most anything.

The Bible tells of the Israelites’ fear after receiving the Ten Commandments: “When the people saw the thunder and lightning . . . they trembled in fear” (Exodus 20:18). Moses comforted them, offering this most interesting statement: “Do not be afraid. God has come to test you, so that the fear of God will be with you” (v. 20). Moses seems to contradict himself: “Don’t be afraid but be afraid.” In fact, the Hebrew word for “fear” contains two meanings—a trembling terror of something or a reverent awe of God.

We may laugh to learn that globophobia is the fear of balloons and xocolatophobia is a fear of chocolate. The more serious bottom line about phobias is that we can be afraid of all kinds of things. Fears creep into our lives like spiders, and the world can be a scary place. As we struggle with phobias and fears, we do well to be reminded that our God is an awesome God, offering us his present comfort in the midst of darkness.

On July 12, 2022, scientists awaited the first images of deepest space from the new James Webb Space Telescope. The state-of-the-art telescope can look farther into the universe than mankind has ever looked before. Suddenly a breathtaking image emerges: a color space-scape of the Carina Nebula, never before seen like this. One NASA astronomer quoted Carl Sagan, a noted atheist: “Somewhere, something incredible is waiting.”

Sometimes people can look God in the eye and not see Him. But the psalmist David looked into the sky and knew exactly what he was seeing: “You have set your glory in the heavens” (Psalm 8:1). Sagan was right that “something incredible is waiting,” but he failed to acknowledge what David clearly perceived: “When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is mankind that you are mindful of them” (vv. 3-4).

When we see images of deepest space, we are amazed, not so much because of technology, but because we’re witnessing the handiwork of God. We marvel because in the vastness of creation God has made us “rulers over the works of [his] hands” (v. 8:6).  Indeed something “incredible is waiting”—God, waiting to bring believers in Jesus to Him. That’s the most breathtaking image of all.

The book Hidden Figures recounts preparations for John Glenn’s flight into space. Computers were new-fangled inventions in 1962, subject to glitches. Glenn didn’t trust them and worried about calculations for the launch. He knew one brainy woman in the back room could run the numbers. He trusted her. “If she says the numbers are good,” Glenn said, “I’m ready to go.”

Katherine Johnson was a teacher and mother of three. She loved Jesus and served in her church. God had blessed Katherine with a remarkable mind. NASA tapped her in the late 1950s to help with the space program. She was Glenn’s “brainy woman,” one of the “human computers” they hired at the time.

We may not be called to be brilliant mathematicians, but God calls us to other things: “To each one of us grace has been given as Christ apportioned it” (Ephesians 4:7).  We’re to ”live a life worthy of the calling” we’ve received (v. 1). We’re part of one body, in which “each part does its work” (v. 16).

Katherine Johnson’s calculations confirmed the course trajectory. Glenn’s launch into orbit was like “hitting a bull’s-eye.” But this was just one of Katherine’s callings. Remember, she was called also to be a mother, teacher, and church worker. We might ask ourselves what God has called us to, whether big or small. Are we “ready to go,” exercising the grace-gifts He’s bestowed, “living a life worthy of [our] calling” (v. 1)?