Chris Wilson

We live in a society that, for the most part, is morally and spiritually bankrupt. Our culture is a culture of consumerism. How sustainable is that? - Benjamin Bratt I'm not one for New Year's resolutions, personally. However, in the past few years I have allowed the end of the year to stir thoughts in me about long-term changes I can make that would better my own life, my family's life, and the lives of those that are in my life. As 2022 gave way to 2023 I began to consider what it would look like to begin to orient my life and our family's life around being cultivators rather than consumers. What does moving along the continuum from consumer to cultivator look like? I'm not entirely sure. But I do know that working toward being freed from the incessant cravings of consumerism is not something we will regret in the end. One thing that I became increasingly aware of in the latter half of 2022 was how consumerism was driving me to view everything as existing solely ...

Flowers to be admired, though their beauty is ever fleeting. Reminds me of the truth, your love is all exceeding. Time cannot diminish what grows stronger through our days. Though seasons may batter and life may bruise, It’s our love for each other that carries us through. Books to be read, ideas to be stirred, our imaginations left to dance, To the unheard lyrics of love that can only be passed between those Who delicately hold on to life together, like the yet to be turned page Balanced between the thumb and index finger. Breath bated with excitement and anticipation of what comes next. Coffee to be sipped slowly, as the steam curls up from the cup, A reminder of how fleeting this life we share really is. But we live and love for more than the here and now, don’t we? We live and love for our girls to see, really see, What commitment and sacrifice look like. We live and love for forever, eternity. Of all the evidences of grace I’ve known, you stand above them all. Towering in your bea...

I grew up in a time when going to a local shopping mall, Valley Hills Mall in Hickory NC to be exact, was the high watermark of the weekend. As with most malls then, and the malls that still see traffic today, there were various kiosks spread throughout the upper and lower levels. All manner of trinkets, skincare products, and toys were sold to passersby who were unfortunate enough to make eye contact with the person working the booth. Around Christmas there would always be the arrival of the 3D pictures called “Magic Eye.” You remember them, right? The poster size picture of a random pattern full of bright colors that had an image hidden in plain sight. At least that is the story I was told. I could never, and still to this day cannot see whatever image is hidden there. I’ve tried all the tricks and followed all the instructions of those who can see the picture in less than a minute. Nothing I’ve done works. As a kid it frustrated me to no end to have people tell me what they wer...

During the early afternoon of March 4th we sat in the darkened room as the screen in front of us came to life. As the sonographer began to work the wand over my wife’s abdomen, we saw the unmistakable outline of our child. Everything with her, from measurements to heartbeat, was as it should be at roughly 9 1/2 weeks old. With an exhale, we both relaxed our shoulders and breathed deeply as the greatest fear of any ultrasound is the loss of a child. The sonographer continued her work and as she continued to measure and take pictures it became clear to my wife and I that there on the screen was the unmistakable outline of a second child. The twins we had joked about and secretly longed for were going to be a reality. What would we do with four kids under 6 years old? How long could we stay in our current house? How much would a bigger van cost? All of those questions flooded through my mind. Then the measurements for Baby B were recorded with clinical precision on the screen, 6 week...

It cracked us open to the depths of our being. Every fear and insecurity, exposed in a moment. It had the audacity to tap us on the shoulder and remind us of our mortality. It was in the cracks, past the superficial depth we had grown accustomed to, that we found out how needy we were. For what we thought we could live without, hope, humility, and community became the very things we knew we needed most. We were made in the image of God and it reminded us that those who before were so easily classified as enemies were like us, fearfully and wonderfully made. The story is still being written and none of us knows how it ends. But when the dust settles, we will be glad we have one another.

Last year at this time I read Your Best Year Ever  by Michael Hyatt. I followed the S.M.A.R.T.E.R. framework for goal setting Hyatt lays out in his book. I ordered the Full Focus Planner  from his online store and filled it in with the ten goals I hoped to accomplish in 2019. I was prepped and ready, like a kid laying out the next year's supplies the night before school begins. If I could hit my target and knock out these ten goals I would be, I thought, a better husband, father, friend, pastor, et al. I awoke on January 1, 2019 with a rush of excitement, the air alive and crackling with the energy and promise of 365 days to explore, push, and grow into who God had called me to be. January bled into February, each gray day bending and folding itself into the next. Time moved quickly and I was making no progress on my goals. I felt behind. I was stressed. Anxiety began to rear its head. I thought I needed more coffee. I thought I needed to redouble my lackluster effort. I rem...