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How do we know if we are serving for our own benefit or truly serving as Jesus commanded?

“How long have you been working here?” I tried to make small talk with the technician.

“Almost 20 years, ever since this place opened,” responded the man.

“Wow, that’s quite a while,” I commented. “Do you enjoy your job?”

There was a slight pause. He turned and sighed. “Not anymore, but it’s what I know.”

“If we never experience conflict in our relationship with God, the chances are we have replaced the real God with a substitute god made in our image.”

Have you ever felt guilty, foolish, or ashamed because you had doubts and questions about God? Have you ever been afraid to ask those questions because you didn’t want your friends—who you’re positive are all put-together, with-it Bible experts—to know that you didn’t have the answers?

I had just walked into Chipotle when one of my Asian American colleagues pulled me aside.

We unintentionally believe a lot of lies about our bodies. The lies fall to both extremes: on the one hand, that the human body is an object of worship, and on the other, that it’s a pointless vessel.

You have your diploma in hand. You’ve packed up your college apartment. You’ve said goodbye (for now) to some of your closest friends. Maybe you’ve even squeezed in a fun road trip or jaunt across Europe.

Now what?

One of the exciting things about summer is that it always offers something of a spiritual growth blank canvas. Vacations get planned, daylight comes sooner and lasts longer, and visions of golf courses, ice cream stands, and picnics begin to dance in my head! May has become an annual alarm to start dreaming about the book list I’m going to conquer, the state parks I’m going to hike through, and the new spiritual disciplines I’m going to begin.

Congratulations! You’ve found someone you want to date who wants to date you back! They’re cute, funny, and sincere with similar interests and values. They’re the whole package—and then, bonus points! They’re a different skin color from you!

I caught myself scrunching my nose. I was chatting on the phone with a friend when I told him I needed to get back to work, and he said, half jokingly, that work is a result of the Fall.We laughed it off, but something just didn’t sit right with me. I began wondering, If that is true and if God is trying to heal the world, why do we still have to work so hard?

About nine months ago, at the age of 36, with the majority of my friends married and owning houses and raising kids, I moved in with a family to rent a room from them. It’s not what I envisioned for 36, but it’s great.