It’s true, Jesus is not inviting us into something that requires us to do any-thing, but to experience Him. To be with Him. To spend time with Him. Not to accomplish anything. Or to achieve. Or worse, to strive to be someone or something we’re not. He’s simply inviting us to be with Him.

In Greek, kindness means God’s “affection,” “generosity,” “gentle-ness,” and “goodness.” Can you imagine God relating to you like this?

What does the compassion of God look like in action? How does it sound?

Forgiveness is a word we hear a lot these days, but the practice of it often puts us off.

Whether we are aware of it or not, our Western psyche revolves around this self-forged, self-proclaimed autonomy.

There’s a lot of anxiety and passion everywhere we turn. It’s not surprising that many of us want to move on. I think we’re all aware that our lives are not as tightly controlled by us as we previously believed. We’re living in the strained uncomfortableness of our times.

Notice how the psalmist talks with God — with passion, specificity, and emotion. Yes, that’s right, full emotion. There’s nothing placid or stoic about his expressions, questions, or intonations. So I’m wondering why do we sanitize ours? Why do we pray politely?

So often it seems we opt for the safe life. One we can control. Appear successful in. Convince others we belong. But things don’t always work out the way we plan. We can feel less than, left out, or wounded. If this happens, we can also experience something else — the longing for something more.

God is with us. He personally knows us. Not from distance, but with us. This means we’re not combating the circumstances or questions in our life on our own. That’s how we begin to think when we’re looking down. The psalmist is convinced God knows us 100 percent.