"Show me your unfailing love in wonderful ways," David wrote in Psalm 17.

I stopped when I read that the other day. Because while I know God loves me and I've been overwhelmed by it at various times, when things are ordinary and simple and simply fine, it can be difficult to really understand, much less accept and appreciate, the immensity of God's love for me.

I find myself praying, over and over again, "God teach me how to love you more, how to love you better."
And that's part of it, but there's more to the equation than just me learning how to love him. There's another part: Letting him love me.

I don't know how to do that other than to ask him to do it, by repeating this verse from the Psalms and asking God to make his love for me not just some head knowledge but something real.

This is part of the premise of Joanna Weaver's latest book Lazarus Awakening, which I received from WaterBrook Press for review. (Weaver is most well-known for her book, Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World.) She attempts to help readers take this knowledge of God's extravagant love and learn to believe it, once and for all. She illustrates this message by looking to the story of Lazarus' death and how Jesus raised him from the dead.

She offers readers beautiful biblical insights into this oft glazed-over story and opened my eyes to new details that I'd never thought twice about. In that way, I felt like I gained a much deeper appreciation for this story.
The part of the book that really provided the most practical application regarding learning to live in God's love was from an example Weaver provided of two friends: "When she'd asked Joan how she finally became convinced of God's love, Ann had expected a dramatic story--something about how God had spared her friend from tragedy or brought her through a dark time. Instead, Joan described a simple decision to 'set aside one month in which to act as though God loved her.' All that month 'whenever she was tempted to doubt his love, she simply shifted her thoughts and then put the full force of her mind behind believing that God loved her. And that settled it for her--for good.'" (page 94)

It reminds me of the father who so eloquently and desperately said it best: "I believe, help my disbelief!" We believe, and yet we still have to continue asking God to help us remove those bits of doubt that keep us from fully living in the truth.

So for now, I keep repeating, "Show me your unfailing love in wonderful ways. Show me your unfailing love in wonderful ways. Show me your unfailing love in wonderful ways."

All I knew about St. Francis of Assisi was limited to a statue with his nameplate that stood on the edge of a San Diego garden that I visited a couple years ago. I even took a snapshot of the statue, as it stood strikingly against a breathtaking California backdrop. (At least, I think it was his statue...)

Then, I read Chasing Francis by debut author Ian Morgan Cron. It's in these pages that the author brings this 800-year-old Christian and his revolutionary insights and actions to life for the modern-day reader.

This is one of the best books I've read in quite a long time--especially because it's a fiction title. Oftentimes I feel that fiction titles can be a bit of a waste of time. Here, though the plot of this book is fictional, it is steeped in the historical and authentic--a genre called "wisdom literature." So while you get to read a beautifully, cleverly written and poignant plot, you actually end up learning a great deal about Francis.

Not only is it filled with rich storytelling that will teach you a thing or two about history, but this book will also make you think about what's next. The story is told through the eyes of a megachurch-pastor who is starting to wonder about the depth of the faith that he's grown up on--is there more to loving God and following Jesus than he's been fed?

As the pastor learns more about Francis (while visiting Assisi and living alongside Franciscan monks), Cron begins to unravel what we as modern-day Christians can learn from Francis, a man who cast off his riches, preached to crows, directed the first Christmas play and who revolutionized the floundering faith of his day. What might it look like if we loved God, loved people, like this man did?

Seriously. Read it. (It struck me as a fictional complement to Shane Claiborne's Irresistible Revolution if you found that compelling.) Whether you like fiction or not, it is an incredible story that you can't help but find inspiring.

I’ve been reading The Jesus I Never Knew by Philip Yanceyfor awhile now, and just finished last week. It offered an interesting look at the life and ministry of Jesus through the lens of history, the biblical narration, various insights from theologians and modern-day interpretations. It gave me a more well-rounded understanding of life during Jesus’ days as well as how cultures over the years have viewed different aspects of his teaching.

Filled with research and thoughtful commentary, I flagged many pages while making my way through the manuscript. Such as Christ’s selection of ordinary people to stand alongside him and a humbling look at Mary’s response about what God was doing in her life.

Here’s one last poignant quote from the pages of Yancey’s The Jesus I Never Knew that offers a vantage point about why Jesus coming to earth was so vital and how it was the only way for humanity to really begin to understand and know and love God, in spite of everything he’d done before.

Yancey writes:

"I learned about incarnation when I kept a salt-water aquarium. Management of a marine aquarium, I discovered, is no easy task. I had to run a portable chemical laboratory to monitor the nitrate levels and the ammonia content. I pumped in vitamins and antibiotics and sulfa drugs and enough enzymes to make a rock grow. I filtered the water through glass fibers and charcoal, and exposed it to ultraviolet light. You would think, in view of all the energy expended on their behalf, that my fish would at least be grateful. Not so. Every time my shadow loomed above the tank they dove for cover into the nearest shell. They showed me one 'emotion' only: fear. Although I opened the lid and dropped in food on a regular schedule, three times a day, they responded to each visit as a sure sign of my design to torture them. I could not convince them of my true concern.

Find The Jesus I Never Knew by Philip Yancey on Amazon.