Jason Inman

When the world doesn’t look like what we hoped When there’s a sense of loss underneath it all That ache, whether it shows up as anger, cynicism, exhaustion, or even withdrawal, isn’t random or unexplainable. It’s likely a form of grief. finds.life.church/christian-resp…

@chriscareymsp Smartphones

Teen hangouts dropped off a cliff after 2012. Those teens are now adults in their late 20s and 30s wondering why they have no close friends. We keep treating the loneliness epidemic like it came out of nowhere. It didn't. We just weren't paying attention when it started. Chart via @jean_twenge data, h/t @jayvanbavel

@richvillodas I watched it in theaters twice. So good. Thank you @rianjohnson!

Finally watched Wake Up Dead Man. Wow. What a great movie. I wept in one of the final scenes. In a very surprising way, I was reminded why I’m a pastor involved in the care of souls. 🙏🏽

@ForrestBennett Very good news.

ICE facility will no longer be going in at 2800 S. Council ⬇️

@BenSasse I am so, so sorry. I'm rooting for cancer to lose this one.

Friends- This is a tough note to write, but since a bunch of you have started to suspect something, I’ll cut to the chase: Last week I was diagnosed with metastasized, stage-four pancreatic cancer, and am gonna die. Advanced pancreatic is nasty stuff; it’s a death sentence. But I already had a death sentence before last week too — we all do. I’m blessed with amazing siblings and half-a-dozen buddies that are genuinely brothers. As one of them put it, “Sure, you’re on the clock, but we’re all on the clock.” Death is a wicked thief, and the bastard pursues us all. Still, I’ve got less time than I’d prefer. This is hard for someone wired to work and build, but harder still as a husband and a dad. I can’t begin to describe how great my people are. During the past year, as we’d temporarily stepped back from public life and built new family rhythms, Melissa and I have grown even closer — and that on top of three decades of the best friend a man could ever have. Seven months ago, Corrie was commissioned into the Air Force and she’s off at instrument and multi-engine rounds of flight school. Last week, Alex kicked butt graduating from college a semester early even while teaching gen chem, organic, and physics (she’s a freak). This summer, 14-year-old Breck started learning to drive. (Okay, we’ve been driving off-book for six years — but now we’ve got paper to make it street-legal.) I couldn’t be more grateful to constantly get to bear-hug this motley crew of sinners and saints. There’s not a good time to tell your peeps you’re now marching to the beat of a faster drummer — but the season of advent isn’t the worst. As a Christian, the weeks running up to Christmas are a time to orient our hearts toward the hope of what’s to come. Not an abstract hope in fanciful human goodness; not hope in vague hallmark-sappy spirituality; not a bootstrapped hope in our own strength (what foolishness is the evaporating-muscle I once prided myself in). Nope — often we lazily say “hope” when what we mean is “optimism.” To be clear, optimism is great, and it’s absolutely necessary, but it’s insufficient. It’s not the kinda thing that holds up when you tell your daughters you’re not going to walk them down the aisle. Nor telling your mom and pops they’re gonna bury their son. A well-lived life demands more reality — stiffer stuff. That’s why, during advent, even while still walking in darkness, we shout our hope — often properly with a gravelly voice soldiering through tears. Such is the calling of the pilgrim. Those who know ourselves to need a Physician should dang well look forward to enduring beauty and eventual fulfillment. That is, we hope in a real Deliverer — a rescuing God, born at a real time, in a real place. But the eternal city — with foundations and without cancer — is not yet. Remembering Isaiah’s prophecies of what’s to come doesn’t dull the pain of current sufferings. But it does put it in eternity’s perspective: “When we've been there 10,000 years…We've no less days to sing God's praise.” I’ll have more to say. I’m not going down without a fight. One sub-part of God’s grace is found in the jawdropping advances science has made the past few years in immunotherapy and more. Death and dying aren’t the same — the process of dying is still something to be lived. We’re zealously embracing a lot of gallows humor in our house, and I’ve pledged to do my part to run through the irreverent tape. But for now, as our family faces the reality of treatments, but more importantly as we celebrate Christmas, we wish you peace: “The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned….For to us a son is given” (Isaiah 9). With great gratitude, and with gravelly-but-hopeful voices, Ben — and the Sasses

Yes, do for others what you wish someone would do for you. But, perhaps more importantly, ask others what they wish someone would do for them, and then do that.

@davidfholt The dedication was absolutely wonderful.

Give something you feel like you can't afford to someone who you know won't repay.

@davidfholt @maps4okc This is good work.

Today was another celebratory day jn OKC as we cut the ribbon on a MAPS 4 project providing housing for veterans at risk of homelessness. This project - in partnership with the Oklahoma City Housing Authority - starts with 37 beds and will eventually increase to 70. It will change the lives of those who served our country. One such resident is Rodney (pictured), who served in the Marines and has been homeless before. He has now found a home at Dorset Place on NW 122nd. This project is a perfect example of the way MAPS 4 is taking the power of MAPS across the city and to every socioeconomic level. And housing initiatives like this are what will create lasting pathways out of homelessness. The people of Oklahoma City should feel immense pride at what is being done with your MAPS 4 pennies. #1OKC

Following Jesus mostly about being formed into someone who loves others so well that they are in fact experiencing the unconditional love of God.

@BethMooreLPM Seeing others do something that stretches them a bit to realize their full potential.

What makes you happy?

@richvillodas Don't snap.

Glad to add to the collection. My brother said this is Thanos energy. Lol

I'm going to recommend starting by treating them in some way you loved being treated the last time you were grieving. Which is often something like listening, shared meals, and empathy.

Grief is seeing life and thinking, “It shouldn’t be like this.” As you read posts here, pause and ask yourself, “Is this person saying, ‘Life shouldn’t be like this’?” Then, decide how you want to treat someone who is at a loss.

More listening. More empathy. More eating together. Less screen time. Less news-as-entertainment. Less politic as religion.

The kind of prayer that changes the person praying and leads to action seems to be the kind we need right now. Here's an example of that kind of prayer. finds.life.church/prayer-for-pai…

@richvillodas This is good. Thanks!

I wrote a reflection on Sin this morning. Felt like the right topic to address in a world marked by political violence, racism, war, genocide, & dehumanization. There’s a Power at work in the world that requires the grace of God and a people surrendered to the way of love.

Let's comfort all who grieve, and let's imagine together a new future without killing and violence.

The Postal Service was some kind of peak in music.

This is simple but true. I will vote yes for at least trying just about any reasonable idea to keep people from shooting at kids in school.