Jason G. Edwards
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jasongedwards.bsky.social
Jason G. Edwards
@jasongedwards.bsky.social
550 followers 4.2K following 880 posts
Jason G. Edwards is a pastor + writer in Liberty, MO. Forthcoming book on the atonement with InterVarsity Press. Writing at jasongedwards.substack.com
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For the Holy Imagination and the Courage to Build a Better World (a blessing) #blessing #prayer #benediction #faith
This is how God works: unsettling us, re-centering us, pressing us toward mercy. At the heart of the gospel is not exclusion but embrace.
Jesus did not read scripture flatly. He let mercy interpret law, letting love show the way.
If faith is to meet the demands of reality, it must have a keel and ballast. Without Christ at the center, spirituality drifts wherever the winds of culture or circumstance blow. Without the ballast of tradition, faith rides too high and tips when storms rise. (2/2)
A ship without ballast rides too high. A ship without a keel has no true center. Faith is much the same. (1/2)
Reposted by Jason G. Edwards
Belonging heals what isolation cannot. The body remembers safety before the mind does.
Reposted by Jason G. Edwards
In a fragmented world, every act of life-giving community is an act of defiance.
Reposted by Jason G. Edwards
Belonging is discovering who you really are in the presence of others who love you.
Reposted by Jason G. Edwards
Community is the image of God made visible in the way we love, listen, and stay.
Reposted by Jason G. Edwards
Working on a poetic conversation with WIlliam Butler Yeats…
It hums through the window of a tired barista
who remembers every name but her own.
It slips into the corner booth
where two friends talk like repair is possible.
Grace keeps strange hours sometimes.
(2/2) #poetry
Grace keeps strange hours sometimes.
It sits with the father
who cannot speak his child’s name aloud,
watching wind rearrange
a small pile of leaves. (1/2) #poetry
Grace keeps strange hours sometimes.
It hums in the fluorescent half-light
of hospital corridors,
where someone wheels a tray of flowers
past the door of the dying.
It hovers between the monitors’ beeps,
in a nurse’s whisper
that sounds like a hymn.

open.substack.com/pub/jasonged... #poetry
Grace Keeps Strange Hours Sometimes
a poem
open.substack.com
It stands beside you at the sink,
water running over your hands
until the cold
becomes its own prayer.

It breathes in rhythm with your grief,
a small mercy you didn’t summon.

Grace keeps strange hours sometimes.

open.substack.com/pub/jasonged... #poetry
Grace Keeps Strange Hours Sometimes
a poem
open.substack.com
Grace keeps strange hours sometimes.
It doesn’t wait for morning.
It comes in the middle of the night,
when the heart forgets its rhythm
and the refrigerator hums like a chant.

open.substack.com/pub/jasonged... #poetry
Grace Keeps Strange Hours Sometimes
a poem
open.substack.com
My feet are usually locked into a recumbant bike while I'm writing on my apple notes app.
That’s good. I like the poetry of Augustine’s idea but there’s plenty of room to knock it around a bit too.
Augustine said that evil isn’t a thing in itself, it’s the absence of good, a drifting away from reality. Everything God made is real and good because it participates in God’s own life.

The Spirit doesn’t protect us from reality; it draws us deeper into it.
When what you believed collapses, pay attention to what still feels alive. God just might be lingering there.
A faith that can’t face grief or doubt usually can’t hold joy for long either.
Faith that denies reality often collapses under it.
Reposted by Jason G. Edwards