Unspeakable violence is all around us. Many times, we treat it like an unsettling scene in a movie. Some of us fast-forward. We skip a disturbing moment to mitigate the psychological alarm. Other times, we just watch it, and over time, become less and less alarmed or more and more angry. Or we just stop watching scary movies.

Praying to our Father is powerful. We touched on this in Sunday's sermon. When we begin to pray as Jesus taught us, we're telling a story. The 20th-century author and pastor Jerry Bridges calls this preaching the gospel to yourself. In this way, prayer isn't just where we make our requests known to God, but it’s how we remember that we are already known by him.

Chicago is expensive. Have you noticed? From routine rental hikes and relentless property tax increases, to climbing gas and grocery prices, to the always-unwelcome photo-enforced traffic ticket that just shows up in the mailbox, it's hard to keep up. And even when we do keep up, many of us develop a guarded, self-protective relationship with money. After all, you never know when the next hit is coming.

My two older children have started taking public transit to school. High school and an early seventh-grade math class have upset our historic routine of all piling into the car together for one big school drop off. And so, around 7 a.m. I walk them to the bus stop with our dog, and away they go. But, of course, that doesn't mean I stop watching them.

When my family and I first moved to Chicago, we knew nothing about Chicago. Like most people who've only visited the city, we knew it was cold, the hotdogs were delicious, and Michael Jordan was the mayor (only recently did we all learn at what cost). Despite our limited knowledge and even less experience, we came to this city and fell in love. Now, having lived here over a decade, everything we knew about the city has almost nothing to do with our life in the city. I don't eat a lot of hot dogs. I've only been to two Bulls games. And I've come to realize I had no idea how cold "cold" can be.

I've been reading Psalm 37 a lot lately. A couple of weeks ago, it was simply the next psalm on the list. But since then … as I've been meeting with many of you in various seasons and carrying life's burdens … the words have come alive. "Fret not" has been a hopeful encouragement (v.1) "Trust in the Lord" has been a grounding practice (v.3). "Delight yourself in the Lord," has been a timely invitation to grace (v.4). "Take refuge in him," has be a clarifying call (v.40). It's been a joy to watch God's word at work in your lives.

Mid term primaries are in full swing. This is a time in our country when open seats create a deep sense of scarcity. Alaska, Wyoming, and Florida all have open governor seats. Others (including Illinois) have open seats in the House and Senate to fill in November. The scarcity of these positions of power feel even more important when considering the scarcity many Americas are feeling in everyday life.

Have you ever wondered why we pray in Jesus' name? I was thinking about this the other day. After all, there's no prayer recorded in the Bible that ends in his name. And when Jesus teaches his disciples to pray, he doesn't say, Now, make sure you mention my name when you talk to God. This is by design. Jesus' name isn't some magical code that unlocks God's ears or coerces his powers.

A couple weeks ago I came across a helpful framework for Scripture reading and prayer. If you're like me, then likely your daily"quiet time" turns into monthly with frightening ease. Sometimes it's our schedule that seems unmanageable and opening the Word and prayer are, regretfully, two of the first things we forgo to make our lives work. However, sometimes it's not a lack of time, it's a lack of a plan.

Language is developed through relationship. Early in life, we don't enroll in a class on speaking. Instead, "We are plunged at birth into a sea of language," (Working the Angles, 49). We simply go about our lives, soaking in words, tone, inflection, and dialect from everyone around us. And then, usually shortly after our first birthday, we speak.

Billie Jean King once said that sports are a microcosm of society. Regardless of whether or not you're an athlete or a fan, we learn a lot about ourselves by tuning in to ESPN or going to Wrigley. What we deem to be fair, celebratory, and courageous on a court or field demonstrates what we value in all of life.

Walking through our Jesus + Sexuality formation class has me thinking a lot about where we've gone wrong. It’s prompted me to reflect on my own story and pastoral experiences. In particular, I keep returning to a question I've heard many times over the past 20 years of ministry: Why does Jesus care so much about sex?