We know what the disciples were doing in those ten days between the Ascension and Pentecost. Luke tells us they were huddled together in an upper room, praying, waiting, bewildered but obedient. A hundred and twenty of them, watching the door, watching the sky, watching each other. Waiting for something Jesus called "the promise of the Father" without quite knowing what that meant. But I have spent years turning a different question over in my mind. In doctoral seminars, in quiet rooms with...

Seven miles is an agonizing walk when your world collapses. The disciples on the Emmaus road simply put one foot in front of the other, moving away from where everything went wrong. They spoke in the hushed tones of people unsure they would survive the recent trauma. We had hoped he was the one. An ocean of loss exists in those six words. They mourned a future they believed God authored. This was a promised redemption they staked their lives upon, destined to end in glory until Friday. Then...

The air on this Friday feels different. It is thick with a silence that demands our full attention. I often speak of the importance of leaning into the quiet but today that quiet is not just a practice. It is a reality. The world has reached a terrifying pause. The light has flickered and gone out. We stand at the edge of a mystery so deep and so heavy that words almost feel like an intrusion. Today is about the God who loved us enough to stop being distant. It is about the King who decided...