Spiritual Formation

Now that I’m in midlife, I find Sabbaths all the more important.

As a creative person, my Sabbath involves items that draw me closer to the presence of God in creative ways.

The greatest challenge to our evangelism isn’t a hedonistic culture or a relativistic worldview. Nor is it scientific reasoning or religious pluralism. It’s our own faithless witness.

What do we do with disappointment? What do we do when there’s a gap between what we wanted or expected and what actually happens? Even more, what do we do with God in the face of disappointment?

Bulging biceps. Watermelon-sized shoulders. Abs so defined you could see them from outer space. No, I’m not describing myself. Well, I guess I sort of am. I’m trying to describe the image in my head of the “ideal me.”

A healthy Seven is an amazing force for good. But we have to get serious about entering into the real world, having real conversations, and pursuing real joy. 

When I am healthy, I find that I am not only able to remain faithful to the people and communities around me, but I am also able to easily build trust that pushes the whole team/community forward. 

As a Five on the Enneagram, I love to learn and want to be competent. But my desire to observe and learn also has a major drawback: it’s hard for me to actually act on things.

My parents didn’t know about the Enneagram back in 1989. If they had, it would have been pretty clear to them what was up: I was a Four. My flagship quote could be this bit of dialogue from Doctor Who: “What’s good about sad?” “It’s happy, for deep people.”

When I heard about a Christian group on campus, I knew it was something I didn’t want to just join—it was an opportunity for me to step up and lead. I was driven, ambitious, and a little too eager to shine. I was, in short, a young Three on the Enneagram.