
Hosted by John Eldredge · EN

There are few things more crucial to us than our own lives.And there are few things we are less clear about.This journey we are taking is hardly down the yellow brick road. Then again, that's not a bad analogy at all. We may set out in the light, with hope and joy, but eventually, our path always seems to lead us through dark woods, shrouded with a low-lying mist. Where is this abundant life that Christ supposedly promised? Where is God when we need him most? What is to become of us?The cumulative effect of days upon years that we do not really understand is a subtle erosion. We come to doubt our place, we come to question God's intentions toward us, and we lose track of the most important things in life.We're not fully convinced that God's offer to us is life. We have forgotten that the heart is central. And we had no idea that we were born into a world at war. Want more? Order your copy of Waking the Dead today

Christians have been told over and over that God is almighty. And indeed he is—the God of four hundred billion billion suns. We have been told he is also sovereign. And indeed he is. Perhaps out of respect, we have adopted the notion that if he is going to act, he is going to act quickly. Bam. Zap. (If we are honest, I think we adopted that perspective because it also relieves us of strenuous prayer.) But is this what we see in so many of these biblical accounts?Clearly, God does not just zap Peter out of prison. The church has to pray “strenuously” for him; the event goes on into the night. He does not zap the promised rain either—Elijah had to climb to the top of the mountain, and there he prayed eight rounds of intervening prayer. God did send the angel to Daniel the first day he prayed—but it took three weeks for him to break through. God didn’t just zap Joseph, Mary, and the child Jesus down into safety in Egypt—an angel had to come to them as well; they had to flee in the night.Are you getting the picture? Prayer is not just asking God to do something and waiting for him to zap it.Intervening prayer often takes time.And it takes repetition, repeatedly intervening and invoking. (Eight rounds for Elijah).Want more? Order your copy of Moving Mountains today.

Let’s come back to something very basic to our pursuit of God and the transformation he is always after in our lives—everything we do has a reason behind it, a motive.Within the Christian community we tend to focus on behavior, and that is right and that is wrong. Of course what we do matters. It matters how you treat people. It matters whether you lie or steal or commit adultery. Our actions have enormous consequences to them. However, according to Jesus, holiness is a matter of the heart. This is the gist of his famous Sermon on the Mount. Jesus asks, “Why do you pray—to be seen as holy? Why do you give—to be seen as generous? Why do you fast—to impress others?”“Be careful not to do your ‘acts of righteousness’ before men, to be seen by them. If you do, you will have no reward from your Father in heaven. So when you give to the needy, do not announce it with trumpets, as the hypocrites do. ...“And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by men. ...“When you fast, do not look somber as the hypocrites do, for they disfigure their faces to show men they are fasting. I tell you the truth, they have received their reward in full. But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, so that it will not be obvious to men that you are fasting, but only to your Father, who is unseen; and your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.” (Matthew 6:1–2, 5, 16–18)Jesus is moving the whole question of genuine goodness from the external to the internal. He is taking us back to motive. If we will follow him in this, it will open up fields of goodness for us.Want more? Order your copy of Walking with God today.

There is a civil war waged between the new heart and the old nature. Romans 7–8 describes it quite well. Part of me doesn’t want to love my neighbor—not when his son just backed his car into my Jeep and smashed it up. I want to take the little brat to court. Part of me knows that prayer is essential; another part of me would rather turn on the TV and check out. And that whole bit about long-suffering—no way. Part of me wants to just get drunk. And that is the part I must crucify daily, give no ground to, make no alliance with. It’s not the true me (Romans 7:22). It’s my battle with the flesh. We all know that battle well. But that is not what I’m wanting to explore here.No, there’s something else we are describing when we say, “Well, part of me wants to and part of me doesn’t.” It’s more than a figure of speech. We might not know it, but something really significant is being revealed in those remarks. There are these places that we cannot seem to get beyond. Everything is going along just fine, and then—boom. Something suddenly brings you to tears or makes you furious, depressed, or anxious, and you cannot say why. I’ll tell you why.We are not wholehearted.Want more? Order your copy of Waking the Dead today.

When you think of what Desolation looks like, picture a barren desert. Desolation wants to make everything a wasteland. So what is the opposite of a wasteland? Eden! The paradise of God, our first home, with all its lush, glorious beauty overflowing here, there, everywhere! If you follow the flow of Scripture and human history, you can see that our enemy wants to make everything a wasteland, and God wants to make everything a restored Eden. When it comes to the resilience we need against Desolation, part of our Father’s provision is his Eden Glory—the glory of God in you and around you, giving you supernatural resilience and guarding you like a shield. What do I mean by Eden Glory? In the book of Romans, Paul is trying to help us under- stand the availability of the power of God for us, in us. He turned to the resurrection and said, “Just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life” (Romans 6:4). It was by the glory of God that Jesus was raised from the dead. The glory of God—the regenerative, resurrecting Eden Glory of God. Isaiah reminds us that “the whole earth is full of his glory” (Isaiah 6:3). Think of the sun, how absolutely wonderful the sun is! Its radiance, beauty, and cheerfulness, and how much life it gives! It is pulsating with the glory-power of God. Think of the oceans and the forests of the world, how vast they are, how filled with life. The whole world is filled with the glory of God. It is the life-giving, life-sustaining, generative power of God. So, for our purposes here, when you think of the glory of God, think of the sun, the ocean, water turned into wine, Christ raised from the dead. Think of Eden. Now for something truly breathtaking: you are meant to be filled with the glory of God. Think back to the tabernacle and temple—in the Old Testament, the glory of the Lord filled the tabernacle, then the temple. The manifest presence of God came and dwelt there, filled with radiance, beauty, and regenerative power. And where is the temple now? You are the temple. The New Testament makes that clear. This is why Paul wrote, But we all, with unveiled faces, looking as in a mirror at the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, just as from the Lord, the Spirit. (2 Corinthians 3:18 NASB) The transformation of your character and the regeneration of your humanity is taking place in you because of the glory of God in you! (How else could it take place?) The New International Version adds, “with ever-increasing glory.” Oh friends, please listen closely: We need the Eden Glory of God—the regenerative, life-giving, life-sustaining glory of God—in great measure right now. We need a greater measure of the manifest presence of Jesus in us. And we are meant to be filled with it. The glory of God is meant to fill our hearts and souls. We can ask for this supernatural grace, so by all means let’s do! Father, Jesus, Holy Spirit, I receive your Glory into my being. I receive the Glory that fills the oceans, the Glory that sustains the sun. I receive the Glory that raised Christ from the dead! I pray that your Eden Glory would fill my heart, soul, mind, and strength. I am your temple, Lord; come and fill your temple with your Glory! I also pray that your Eden Glory would shield me against all forms of Desolation coming over my life. I renounce every agreement I might have made with Desolation, every agreement large and small. I choose you, God. I renounce the Falling Away, and I choose you. Regardless of how I feel, I choose you, Lord. You are my God and Savior. I pray that your Eden Glory would fill my life—restoring me, renewing me, granting me supernatural endurance and resilience. I also invoke your Eden Glory over my life as a shield, over my household and domain. I invoke your glory, love, and kingdom as my constant strength and shield. In the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, ruler of heaven and earth. Thank you, Lord! This prayer has become so important to me I find myself invoking the phrase “Your glory, your love, your kingdom” all throughout my day.Want more? Order your copy of Resilient today.

For some reason we keep forgetting that Jesus, in the Gospels, is operating in enemy territory. We project into the Gospel stories a pastoral backdrop, the quaint charm of a Middle Eastern travel brochure—picturesque villages, bustling markets, smiling children—and Jesus wandering through it all like a son come home from college. We forget the context of his life and mission. His story begins with genocide—the massacre of the innocents, Herod's attempt to murder Jesus by ordering the systematic execution of all young boys around Bethlehem. I've never seen this included in any crèche scene, ever. Who could bear it? You must picture ethnic cleansing as the twentieth century saw in Bosnia, Rwanda, Burma. Atrocity, the ground soaked with the blood of children who five minutes earlier were laughing and playing.God the Father, knowing this is about to strike, sends an angel to warn Joseph:An angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream. "Get up," he said, "take the child and his mother and escape to Egypt. Stay there until I tell you, for Herod is going to search for the child to kill him." So he got up, took the child and his mother during the night and left for Egypt, where he stayed until the death of Herod. (Matthew 2:13–15)The little family flees the country under cover of darkness, like fugitives. The Father's strategy is intriguing—surely God could have simply taken Herod out. Or sent angels to surround the holy family. Why must they run for their lives? It ought to make you think twice about how God goes about his plans in this world.Surely you see that Jesus was a hunted man?We cannot understand his actions, nor taste the richness of his personality until we set them within context—the man is operating deep behind enemy lines. This colors his extraordinary movements across the pages of the Gospels and helps to strip away that benevolent religious fog that continues to creep into our reading. It also gives depth and poignancy to moments of self-disclosure such as, "The Son of Man has no place to lay his head." (Matthew 8:20). Because he was hunted.Want more? Order your copy of Beautiful Outlaw today.

We take folks through a discipleship program whereby they master any number of Christian precepts and miss the most important thing of all, the very thing for which we were created: intimacy with God. There are, after all, those troubling words Jesus spoke to those who were doing all the “right” things: “Then I will tell them plainly, ‘I never knew you’” (Matthew 7:23). Knowing God. That’s the point.You might recall the old proverb: “Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day; teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime.” The same holds true here. Teach a man a rule and you help him solve a problem; teach a man to walk with God and you help him solve the rest of his life. Truth be told, you couldn’t master enough principles to see yourself safely through this Story. There are too many surprises, ambiguities, exceptions to the rule. Things are hard at work—is it time to make a move? What has God called you to do with your life? Things are hard at home—is this just a phase your son is going through, or should you be more concerned? You can’t seem to shake this depression—is it medical or something darker? What does the future hold for you—and how should you respond?Only by walking with God can we hope to find the path that leads to life. That is what it means to be a disciple. After all—aren’t we “followers of Christ”? Then by all means, let’s actually follow him. Not ideas about him. Not just his principles. Him.Want more? Order your copy of Waking the Dead today.

Life has a way of wearing on a person. Under the weight of losses, pressures, failures, and endless demands, something in our souls begins to wither. Passions dry up. The zeal of a beginning turns into a despairing end. A stone falls heavily down, crushing our will, and in those very places where Jesus once gave birth to vibrant hope, we yield to the grave. Our hearts retreat with a “no more” as death gets ahold of us. But the cemetery is not where we are meant to live. I had the privilege of visiting Israel a few years ago. It was an incredible experience to go to places I had read of and wondered at for so long. One day, I was awed to be standing outside of Lazarus’s tomb. While there, the pastor leading our little group asked us to inquire of God if there were places within us that we had closed in a grave. I knew the answer for me was yes. I was tired. I was hurting. Betrayal from a friend had left me wanting to shrink back from all people. My passion for life had dimmed. My zeal to tell others of the wonders of Jesus had faded. I realized a part of my heart had become buried. And then I felt His call. Jesus’ call to us is the same as His call to Lazarus as He stood before his grave in John 11: “Come out!” he commanded. “Come alive!” We are not meant to live in a tomb. Our callings are needed in the world; they are not to be buried under the burden of others’ demands or judgments. Pain comes, but it does not get to seal our graves. So I ask you, where is death for you? What song has died on your lips at the critics’ continual shaming of your voice? Jesus commands you loudly and firmly to “come out.” And He says it with tears. He is fierce in His instruction and in His intercession for you. He has life for you. Life. Ask Jesus where the tomb holds you and then answer His call. Want more? Order your copy of Defiant Joy today.

Dear friends, I hope you see clearly that more of God is our greatest need, our greatest joy, our only rescue. This isn’t optional. He’s the source of the strength and resiliency we need for this hour, the Life that allows us to enjoy everything else in life.So the very simple question is this: What will you do, on a daily and weekly basis, to find God and receive more of him?There are many traditional practices: prayer, fasting, the sacraments. But there are good books on those things. There are also monastic practices like simple work. The summer I lost my dear friend, I built a log rail fence. Long hours of simple, manual labor was exactly what my soul needed. God knew that, brought it to me just in time. He will bring the things you need across your path in the time you need them too. Your soul will let you know when it’s not doing well, when it needs attention, and often what it needs. So let me leave you for now with a piece of advice and a blessing. The advice comes from St. Paul, who lovingly and tenderly offered this to his dear sons and daughters in the faith:Keep putting into practice all you learned and received from me—everything you heard from me and saw me doing. Then the God of peace will be with you. (Philippians 4:9 NLT)I love the kindness of this encouragement. Keep putting into practice. It’s not about perfection; it’s not about being amazing. God is nowhere in the pressure to be amazing. He’s waiting in the simple dailies. Just keep putting into practice the things that heal your soul and bring you more of Jesus. Then the God of peace will be with you. You’ll no longer be sipping God from teaspoons; you’ll learn to drink deeply from the tangible, nourishing, life-giving presence of the eternal God-Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—the fountain of living waters. Which is my blessing:May the Son of God, who is already formed in you, grow in you, so that for you he will become immeasurable, and that in you he will become laughter, exultation, the fullness of joy which no one can take from you. —Isaac of StellaWant more? Order your copy of Get Your Life Back today.

Simone Weil was absolutely right—beauty and affliction are the only two things that can pierce our hearts. Because this is so true, we must have a measure of beauty in our lives proportionate to our affliction. No, more. Much more. Is this not God’s prescription for us? Just take a look around. The sights and sounds, the aromas and sensations—the world is overflowing with beauty. God seems to be rather enamored with it. Gloriously wasteful. Apparently, he feels that there ought to be plenty of it in our lives. I am at a loss to say what I want to say regarding beauty. Somehow, that is as it ought to be. Our experience of beauty transcends our ability to speak about it, for its magic lies beyond the power of words.I want to speak of beauty’s healing power, of how it comforts and soothes, yet also how it stirs us, how it moves and inspires. All that sounds ridiculous. You know your own experiences of beauty. Let me call upon them then. Think of your favorite music, or tapestry, or landscape. “We have had a couple of inspiring sunsets this week.” A dear friend sent this in an e-mail: “It was as if the seams of our atmosphere split for a bit of heaven to plunge into the sea. I stood and applauded ... simultaneously I wanted to kneel and weep.” Yes—that’s it. All I want to do is validate those irreplaceable moments, lift any obstacle you may have to filling your life with greater and greater amounts of beauty.We need not fear indulging here. The experience of beauty is unique to all the other pleasures in this: there is no possessive quality to it. Just because you love the landscape doesn’t mean you have to acquire the real estate. Simply to behold the flower is enough; there is nothing in me that wants to consume it. Beauty is the closest thing we have to fullness without possessing on this side of eternity. It heralds the Great Restoration. Perhaps that is why it is so healing—beauty is pure gift. It helps us in our letting go. Want more? Order your copy of The Journey of Desire today.