Learning of black mold in your house is one of the worst pieces of news you can get. I’ve known friends who spent a great deal of time and money mitigating such issues. Black mold can cause allergic reactions, respiratory problems, and immune system dysfunction. When discovered, you want it gone.

Remarkably, laws given by the Lord to Moses also dealt with mold and mildew. Apparently this formed a constant health issue. After a long explanation of how to determine if a garment remained infected or was now safe, the instructions summed up in this way:

This is the law for a case of leprous disease in a garment of wool or linen, either in the warp or the woof, or in any article made of skin, to determine whether it is clean or unclean.

The inspector needed to check the fibers of a garment, the warp and the woof, for evidence of infection. Woof (also called the filling) refers to the threads that crisscross the warp, running at right angles—perpendicular—to them; they interlace among the warp, over and under, over and under.

Today warp and woof has come to mean a basic or essential element or material, the underpinning of a plan or idea. The nitty-gritty. The mortar that holds everything together.

The Lord insisted pulling at the warp and woof in order to discover potential health hazards. Mold seeps into the tiniest crevices, where it multiplies until it causes harm. For the Hebrews, if the garment could not be washed cleaned, it was to be burned far away from their camp.

These warnings flow easily to me. I should pay attention to the details of how I’m choosing to live. Poor habits may seem inconsequential, yet they settle into the fabric and structure of my life. Before I realize it, I’m infected. It takes a great deal of effort to wash myself clean, to break the influence of the dank, moldering ideas rooted in my life. I need the scouring action of the Holy Spirit and the Holy Scriptures.

The Lord concerns Himself with the threads of life. Hopefully, a regular inspection of my warp and woof lays hold of the world’s mold and mildew before it sets in too deep.

Leviticus 13

Photo by engin akyurt

We learn from the author of Hebrews how God’s chosen words lays us bare:

For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart. And no creature is hidden from his sight, but all are naked and exposed to the eyes of him to whom we must give account.

Then the author immediately follows with this reminder:

Since then we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.

On the one hand we lie naked and exposed before God. Nothing hidden, all our faults and foibles legible, unprotected and vulnerable under the eyes of a just and holy God.

But then astoundingly good news. Jesus covers our nakedness and mitigates our shame. He does so with sympathy rather than scorn. He walked miles in our shoes, and suffered in this world as you and I do.

Because of this relationship we are encouraged to draw near to God with assurance—boldness even. We need mercy to cover our failures and grace to live our day-to-day. Both are lavishly available.

God knows everything about you and me, which sounds pretty bad. Despite that clarity, Jesus walks with us. That you and I can approach God in any way at all is astounding, but to do so with confidence is amazing.

Move toward him—what do you have to lose?

Hebrews 4:12-16

Photo by Marek Piwnicki

My wife just published a devotional focused on the Camino de Santiago, called Discovering the Way: Reflections and Practices for the Camino de Santiago.

While you may not find yourself in Spain on the Camino, we’re all attempting to journey through life. I think you’ll find these simple yet profound meditations and exercises helpful and adaptable to your particular situation.

People say along the Camino that the way is made by walking. Dawn’s insights help pilgrims find the way of the Lord as we walk though life. Or to put it another way, in this devotional you’ll gain a better view of the Way and the Truth and the Life.

The e-book is currently available on Amazon, and soon on a variety of other platforms.

Buen Camino!

Psalm 27 remains one of my favorite chapters in the Bible. Written by a guy who faced down a giant, fought off bears and lions, and led armies into battle, King David had plenty to fear. Yet he kept his hope turned upward.

The Lord in my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?

It wasn’t that David never felt apprehensions or frustrations. He wrote often of facing his enemies and asking the Lord to intervene. But his fears pushed him toward the Lord rather than away.

I once heard someone say, courage is not the absence of fear, courage is doing the thing you fear the most. While I’m not sure I always agree, I do know that action conquers fear. Moving forward despite our anxiety fuels resilience and hope.

David feared no man, and remained confident in the face of his enemies. But David certainly feared the Lord. He aimed his fear in the right direction.

The worries of this world easily overwhelm. There’s plenty to lose sleep over—a wealth of fear surrounds us. But I rest in the stronghold of God. From this position, and with the Lord as my light, whom really shall I fear?

Psalm 27:1

Photo by Gabriel Lamza