Hey y’all people,

It’s been a while. A side quest to Scotland and the move from Brussels back home to SC has taken up quite a bit of my time and mental space, which means it’s been crickets on y’all’s end for a while. But I’m back, and I’m excited.

July and August have been so full. From the vibrant experience of Europe to the coming home and settling back into old rhythms, the Lord has been so kind to me! I’m thankful for the summer I’ve had, and the summer you’ve had. He’s so good.

My favorite thing about living in Europe was the cathedrals. Privileged to visit 8 of them this summer, I sometimes found myself crying tears of wonder and awe. They’re just. So. Beautiful.

Cathedrals have a massive way of making you feel so small. It’s not small like, “I’m going to get crushed,” though. It’s small like, “there’s someone BIG out there.” If generations of people can literally give their whole lives to building a place for God to be worshipped, He has to be real. All of this beauty cannot be in vain.

The way they’re built, with that grand arched ceiling, dozens of pillars, and high windows, forces you to look up. It makes you want to put back your head and reach toward the sky. Sometimes I would look up and wonder if the steeple didn’t really touch the entrance to heaven (I of course knew this was silly, but cathedrals seem to bring heaven closer).

And then there were the stained glass windows. As a solution to miniscule literacy rates, the church told stories of Scripture and history through the majestically painted windows. Imagine a world without color printing, television, or social media. That helps you understand just how special these windows are–to a peasant who spent his day working in the fields and sleeping in a dark cottage, this would be the most bright and beautiful thing in the world.

A dear friend blew my world wide open when she suggested we build cathedrals in our minds. “What?” I exclaimed, “tell me more!”

What might it look like if we built a place to worship the Lord within the bounds of our thought life? Through memorizing Scripture, liturgies, and songs, through cultivating a constant attitude of praise?

When you take a break from your work, where does your mind go? When the world is quiet, when you’re waiting for sleep to come, when you’re washing dishes or driving alone, does your mind run towards Christ? Does it take a stroll down the halls of that cathedral you’ve built, fixing your mind on Jesus, running toward His beauty, feeling stunned by His majesty?

I don’t know about you, but I want that. I want to consistently worship the Lord with my mind.

I’ve been learning about spiritual disciplines lately, and I’m convinced these habits can be the bricks and stones we use to construct a cathedral in our minds. Disciplines like studying the Word, praying, fasting, meditating on the Lord, and sitting in silence and solitude with Him help to form our minds, hearts, and habits, turning them towards Christ.

The disciplines are solid and God-honoring. I am convinced that consistency in the spiritual disciplines will eventually cultivate an inner environment of worship just as resilient as an 800-year-old cathedral.

“If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory.” Colossians 3:1-4.