KyKingdomKum

A modern parable about love, lessons, letting go, and recognizing what is suitable. What if the person who wasn't right for you was still part of your preparation? What if the relationships that ended weren't necessarily mistakes? What if some encounters were lessons? Some endings were protection? What if even the experiences that hurt were doing a work in us—and for us? The Heifer, the Chickenhead, and the Serpent was born from looking at the familiar creation story through the lens of process. Before the man recognized the one who was suitable for him, God brought every living creature before him to see what he would call them. He encountered. He observed. He named. And then, at last, he recognized. Maybe there is something in that for us. Maybe understanding process gives us permission to let go. To stop carrying the bitterness of an experience and receive the betterness of the work it produced. To appreciate what an encounter taught us without needing to hold onto the per...

There is a difference between doing something in order to become something and doing something because of who you already are. Religion often teaches us to do. Do better. Pray more. Believe harder. Get it right. Be more obedient. Produce more fruit. Have more faith. And maybe then we will be blessed. Maybe then we will be accepted. Maybe then we will become who God wants us to be. But the revelation of God through Jesus Christ invites us into something entirely different. Being. Before man ever did anything, God said: “Let Us make man in Our image, according to Our likeness; and let them have dominion.” God's intention was established before man ever took a breath. Image. Dominion. Man did not have to work his way into the image of God. He was created in it. He did not have to chase dominion. God gave it to him. He did not even have to subdue the earth in order to obtain dominion. He subdued because dominion had already been given to him. What he did was supposed to come from who h...

As Father's Day approaches, I find myself thinking about one of the most beautiful pictures of God in all of Scripture: "The LORD thy God in the midst of thee is mighty; he will save, he will rejoice over thee with joy; he will rest in his love, he will joy over thee with singing." — Zephaniah 3:17 For many of us, our understanding of God has been shaped by performance. We wonder if we've done enough. Prayed enough. Believed enough. Obeyed enough. We imagine God watching us with crossed arms, waiting to see whether we'll get it right. Yet Zephaniah paints a very different picture. The image is not of a disappointed judge. The image is of a Father. I picture a frightened child being picked up and held close. The child is anxious, uncertain, overwhelmed by what he sees and feels. The father doesn't begin with a lecture. He doesn't explain every circumstance. He simply holds the child until the child realizes everything is going to be okay. Then something rem...

For much of my life, when I heard that God judges with righteousness, I understood it to mean that God gives people what they deserve. If He punished evil, that was righteous. If He judged sin, that was righteous. If He struck down the wicked, that was righteous. Certainly, God is just. Scripture never portrays Him as indifferent toward evil. Yet the more I read, the more I found myself wrestling with a question: If righteousness is primarily punitive, how do we reconcile it with the God who describes Himself as gracious, merciful, slow to anger, abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness? At times, those ideas seem to pull against each other. Then Jesus arrives. And suddenly everything starts making sense. The righteousness of God doesn't compete with His mercy. The righteousness of God expresses His mercy. The righteousness of God doesn't oppose His love. The righteousness of God fulfills His love. The righteousness of God doesn't contradict His faithfulness. The righte...