We Can’t Afford To Be Hearers, and Not Doers of the Word

We had to do something. Filling two grocery carts, we carried 25 bags of mercy door to door on the poorest side of town. Bought styrofoam container of mud and worms for the young robin abandoned in the gutter—because we couldn’t watch one more senseless death.

Still breathing here. Holding on and handing out because breaking hearts need hope. Needing never stops, and love covers sin. And Jesus—He died for all of this. And that doesn’t make sense—it makes new. New wine in new skins is the only way not to burst, spill, and ruin this treasure inside clay.

The perfect law of liberty consumes us inside. The ones who speak up will be blessed in what they do. Pure and undefiled religion won’t happen in a bubble. It’s jumping in and rescuing the vulnerable in trouble.

“We need to get our minds right,” my husband and I say after too many words get said. It’s customary in battles like this to get lost in your head. “You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on You.” God forbid we be hearers, and not doers of Your word.