Modern Christianity has quietly canonized guilt. We treat emotional heaviness as spiritual depth, remorse as maturity, and lingering shame as evidence of holiness. If someone feels bad long enough , or publicly enough ,  we assume repentance has taken place. But Scripture never equates guilt with repentance. Not linguistically. Not exegetically. Not theologically. In fact, the Bible consistently distinguishes between sorrow that transforms and sorrow that corrodes. When guilt is mistaken for repentance, the gospel is reduced to emotional self-punishment, consciences are wounded, and transformation stalls. It is time to say this clearly and biblically: Guilt is not repentance. Guilt Is Psychological. Repentance Is Directional. The confusion begins when repentance is reduced to an internal emotional state rather than a relational and behavioral reorientation. In the Hebrew Scriptures, the primary word translated “repent” is שׁוּב (shuv), meaning to turn, return, or reverse direction (Brown, Driver, & Briggs, 1907). It is a spatial verb. One does not feel shuv; one does shuv. The prophets never command Israel to feel worse. They command Israel to turn back. “Return (shuv) to Me, and I will return to you,” says the LORD of hosts (Malachi 3:7, NRSV). Repentance is not introspective anguish; it is covenantal movement. Likewise, the New Testament word μετάνοια (metanoia) does not mean “deep remorse.” Etymologically, it refers to a change of mind, but not in the modern sense of opinion. In the Greco-Roman world, nous referred to one’s governing perception of reality — the seat of understanding and orientation (Louw & Nida, 1989). Thus, metanoia describes a decisive reorientation of life based on a newly perceived truth. Guilt may accompany repentance, but it is never its substance. Paul Explicitly Separates Guilt from Repentance The Apostle Paul draws a sharp theological line that modern Christianity often blurs: “For godly grief produces a repentance that leads to salvation without regret, whereas worldly grief produces death” (2 Corinthians 7:10, ESV). Paul does not say grief is repentance. He says grief may produce repentance ,  or death. The Greek term for grief here, λύπη (lypē), refers to emotional pain or distress. Paul recognizes that sorrow alone is morally neutral. Its value lies in what it generates. • Godly grief → repentance → salvation → life • Worldly grief → fixation → despair → death Worldly grief turns inward. It rehearses failure without turning toward God. Godly grief moves through sorrow toward obedience and restoration. When guilt becomes the endpoint rather than the catalyst, repentance never occurs. Judas and Peter: A Case Study in False Repentance No contrast exposes this confusion more clearly than Judas and Peter. Matthew tells us that Judas felt deep remorse: “Then Judas…was seized with remorse (metamelētheis) and returned the thirty pieces of silver” (Matthew 27:3, NRSV). The Greek verb μεταμέλομαι (metamelomai) denotes emotional regret, not repentance. It is never used for salvific turning. Judas confessed wrongdoing, returned the money, and yet never turned back to Christ. His sorrow ended in self-destruction. Peter, by contrast, denied Jesus three times and “wept bitterly” (Luke 22:62). Yet Peter did not isolate himself in guilt. He remained with the community, returned to the risen Christ, and was publicly restored (John 21:15 — 19). Both felt sorrow. Only one repented. The difference was not emotional intensity but relational direction. Why Guilt Feels Holy Guilt masquerades as repentance for several reasons. Guilt Feels Like Accountability Feeling bad looks like taking sin seriously. But Scripture never equates seriousness with sanctification. One can hate sin emotionally while still clinging to it practically. 2. Guilt Feels Like Payment Many Christians unconsciously treat guilt as penance. If I suffer internally long enough, perhaps I have balanced the scales. This instinct is profoundly anti-gospel. As Luther observed, humans are incurably bent toward self-atonement (Luther, 1518/1957). 3. Guilt Avoids Obedience Guilt allows endless emotional engagement without concrete change. It keeps sin central while leaving habits untouched. Repentance, by contrast, demands surrender. The Accuser Thrives Where Guilt Reigns Scripture names Satan “the accuser of the brothers” (Revelation 12:10). Accusation thrives not where sin is denied, but where forgiveness is doubted. Paul declares: “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Romans 8:1). Condemnation is not a sanctifying tool. Conviction leads to repentance; condemnation leads to paralysis. John Chrysostom warned that lingering self-accusation after confession is not humility but unbelief — refusing to trust the sufficiency of grace (Chrysostom, Homilies on Romans). Repentance Is Relational, Not Emotional Biblical repentance restores relationship, not emotional equilibrium. The prodigal son’s repentance did not occur when he felt shame among the pigs. Shame had already hollowed him out. Repentance occurred when: “He arose and came to his father” (Luke 15:20). The father did not wait for perfect remorse. He ran to meet the movement. God responds to turning, not torment. Guilt Undermines Assurance by Replacing God’s Word with Feelings When guilt is confused with repentance, forgiveness becomes experiential rather than declarative. Believers begin to ask, “Do I feel forgiven?” instead of “Has God forgiven?” Scripture grounds forgiveness in God’s character, not our emotional state: “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us” (1 John 1:9). Faithful. Just. Objective. To continue punishing oneself after forgiveness is not reverence — it is distrust. As Calvin wrote, “Unbelief is not always loud rebellion; often it is quiet refusal to be comforted” (Institutes, 3.2.15). Conviction Moves Forward. Guilt Loops Backward. Conviction is specific, actionable, and hopeful. Guilt is vague, heavy, and self-referential. Conviction says, “This does not belong to who you are becoming.” Guilt says, “This is who you are.” One leads to obedience. The other leads to exhaustion. Why the Church Must Stop Teaching Guilt as Spiritual Maturity When churches reward guilt, they disciple people into perpetual self-surveillance rather than joyful obedience. Confession becomes repetitive, not transformative. Shame is mistaken for depth. The gospel does not call believers to live perpetually guilty. It calls them to live forgiven and free (Galatians 5:1). Repentance ends where obedience begins. At some point, clinging to guilt becomes resistance to grace. Stop Calling Guilt Repentance Guilt is an emotion. Repentance is a turning. Guilt may awaken the conscience. Repentance restores the relationship. And once you have turned, guilt has no authority left. The gospel is not asking you to feel worse. It is commanding you to walk forward. And guilt — no matter how religious it feels — can never do that. © Jeff Barlatier (Doctoral Candidate)MDiv candidate References (APA) Brown, F., Driver, S. R., & Briggs, C. A. (1907). A Hebrew and English lexicon of the Old Testament. Oxford University Press. Calvin, J. (1559/1960). Institutes of the Christian religion (J. T. McNeill, Ed.; F. L. Battles, Trans.). Westminster Press. Chrysostom, J. (n.d.). Homilies on Romans. Louw, J. P., & Nida, E. A. (1989). Greek-English lexicon of the New Testament based on semantic domains. United Bible Societies. Luther, M. (1518/1957). Heidelberg Disputation. Fortress Press. The Holy Bible, New Revised Standard Version. (1989). National Council of Churches.

In recent years, many American Christians have adopted a curious defense of Donald Trump. When confronted with his personal conduct, rhetoric, dishonesty, cruelty, or obvious lack of visible Christian devotion, they often respond with a biblical comparison: God used Cyrus the Great, and God can use Trump too. At first glance, this argument appears clever and scriptural. It allows supporters to sidestep concerns about moral character while still presenting political loyalty as spiritually justified. But the comparison creates a contradiction many fail to notice. Because the same Christians making this argument often insist that United States is a Christian nation founded on biblical values, ordained by God for a special purpose, and meant to reflect Christian morality. Those two claims do not fit together nearly as well as people pretend. Who Was Cyrus? Cyrus the Great was the ruler of the Persian Empire in the sixth century BC. In the Hebrew Scriptures, he is famously described as God’s “anointed” in Book of Isaiah 45:1 because he allowed the Jewish exiles in Babylon to return and rebuild Jerusalem. This is an extraordinary passage. Cyrus was not an Israelite king. He was not part of the covenant people. He did not worship according to Israel’s law. He ruled a foreign empire. The point of the text is that God’s sovereignty extends beyond Israel and that even pagan rulers can be used for divine purposes. That made sense in its original setting. Persia was not pretending to be ancient Israel. Why the Comparison Breaks Down The problem begins when modern Christians apply the Cyrus model to America while also claiming America is a Christian nation. If America is truly a nation built on Christian values, if it is the moral heir of biblical civilization, if it sees itself as specially covenanted with God, then why would its ideal leader need to be defended as a pagan instrument? Why not expect a leader who actually embodies Christian virtues? Why suddenly Character, Conduct, Truthfulness, Humility, Fidelity and Mercy do not matter, as long as political goals are achieved. That is not a Christian standard. That is a power standard. The Convenient Theology of Expediency The Cyrus argument often functions less like serious theology and more like a permission slip. It allows believers to ignore the tension between Christian ethics and political loyalty. It transforms criticism into rebellion against God’s mysterious plan. It gives moral cover to actions they would condemn in opponents. If a political rival behaved with the same vulgarity, vindictiveness, mockery, greed, and contempt for truth, many of these same voices would call it evidence of national decay. But when their own champion does it, suddenly we hear about Cyrus. That reveals something important: the principle is not consistent. It is selective. What Christian Leadership Traditionally Looks Like Christianity has never taught that leaders must be perfect. Every serious believer knows human beings are flawed. But Christianity has historically praised virtues such as: Humility Truthfulness Self-control Justice Compassion Repentance Faithfulness Care for the weak When a movement repeatedly excuses the opposite traits because they are politically useful, it is no longer merely tolerating imperfection. It is vice. And once vice is rewarded, it spreads. The Idol of Power Many Christians today appear less interested in holiness than in dominance. They fear cultural loss, demographic change, secularization, and declining influence. Those fears are real and emotionally powerful. But instead of responding with conviction, witness, charity, and courage, some have chosen resentment and raw political force. That is where the Cyrus defense becomes attractive. It says, in effect: We know he is not one of us spiritually, but he fights for us politically. That may be understandable as strategy. But it should not be confused with righteousness. Can’t Have It Both Ways This is the contradiction at the heart of the matter: If America is a Christian nation, then Christians should expect leaders who reflect Christian character. If leaders need not reflect Christian character because God uses pagan rulers, then America is functioning less like a holy nation and more like every other empire in history. Those are different frameworks. You cannot claim America is uniquely Christian while excusing its leaders on the grounds that holiness is unnecessary. You cannot preach morality to the culture while dismissing morality in power. You cannot condemn relativism while practicing it for political convenience. You cannot have it both ways. A Final Warning When the church baptizes political expediency, it may win elections and lose credibility. When it excuses vice in exchange for influence, it may gain courts, offices, and headlines while hollowing out its witness. And when believers teach younger generations that character matters only when the other side fails, they should not be surprised when those generations conclude that faith itself was only ever partisan branding. The Cyrus argument may defend a politician. But it exposes a cancerous crisis in the church. © 2026 Joel Sarfraz. Want more content like this? Explore more articles in Culture & Faith References: Holy Bible, Book of Isaiah 45:1–13. (Cyrus described as the Lord’s “anointed” and used for Israel’s restoration.) Holy Bible, Book of Ezra 1:1–4. (Cyrus permits the Jewish exiles to return and rebuild Jerusalem.) Holy Bible, Gospel of Matthew 15:14. (“If the blind lead the blind, both shall fall into the ditch.”) Holy Bible, Gospel of Matthew 7:16–20. (“You will know them by their fruits.”) Holy Bible, Epistle to the Galatians 5:22–23. (Fruit of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control.) Holy Bible, First Epistle to Timothy 3:1–7. (Character qualifications for leadership.) Holy Bible, Book of Proverbs 29:2. (“When the righteous are in authority, the people rejoice…”) The Kingdom, the Power, and the Glory. New York: HarperCollins, 2023. (On the fusion of American evangelicalism and partisan politics.) Jesus and John Wayne. New York: Liveright Publishing, 2020. (On evangelical political culture and masculine power narratives.) Religion News Service. Coverage of evangelical leaders comparing Donald Trump to Cyrus the Great during the 2016 and 2020 election cycles. The Washington Post. Multiple reports on conservative Christians describing Trump as a modern Cyrus figure. The New York Times. Reporting on evangelical support for Trump framed through providential comparisons to Cyrus.

This message is installment one in Randy DeVaul’s series on the miracles of Jesus. Together, these teachings uncover how each miracle reveals a different facet of God’s glory, compassion, and intentional timing. If you’d like to hear Randy teach this message directly, you can watch the full sermon on YouTube or listen to the audio version on Spotify. His spoken teaching adds depth and clarity to the themes explored in this article. There are moments in Scripture when God moves not because someone asked, not because faith was demonstrated, but simply because it was time for His glory to be revealed. One of those moments unfolds in John 9, where Jesus encounters a man blind from birth. The disciples, seeing him, ask the question that echoes through every generation. Why did this happen? Was it his sin? His parents’ sin? Their question mirrors the reasoning of Job’s friends who insisted that suffering must always be the result of wrongdoing (Job 4; 8; 11). But just as God rebuked them in Job 42, Jesus corrects His disciples: this man’s blindness was not punishment. It was preparation. It existed so the works of God might be displayed in him. The scene is simple yet profound. Jesus and His disciples are leaving the temple after a tense exchange with the Pharisees. The man sits where he has always sat, in the same spot, unseen by most, known only as the beggar who cannot see. He does not call out to Jesus as Bartimaeus did in Mark 10. He does not ask for healing. He is silent. Yet Jesus stops. He sees him. And in that moment, heaven’s timing meets human need. Jesus kneels, mixes mud with His own saliva, and places it on the man’s eyes. Then He tells him to go wash in the Pool of Siloam. The man obeys, and when he returns, he can see. The miracle is complete, but the story is just beginning. Neighbors are astonished. The Pharisees are unsettled. His parents are cautious. And the man himself becomes a bold witness, declaring simply, “I was blind, but now I see” (John 9:25). This miracle was not about fixing a problem; it was about revealing God’s heart. It was not about the man’s faith but about God’s glory. Jesus had just proclaimed Himself the Light of the World (John 8:12; 9:5), and now He demonstrates that truth in living color. The timing is perfect. If the healing had happened earlier, it might have gone unnoticed. But now, as the temple crowd disperses, the miracle becomes a public testimony that exposes spiritual blindness and reveals divine compassion. The disciples learn that suffering is not always the result of sin. Sometimes it is the stage upon which God will display His glory. The man’s lifelong blindness becomes the canvas for God’s light. His healing teaches that God’s timing is intentional, His purposes are good, and His glory is the ultimate goal. We see this same pattern throughout Scripture. The woman bent over for eighteen years in Luke 13 is healed in the synagogue, and the entire congregation rejoices at the glory of God. Ten lepers in Luke 17 are cleansed, and one — a Samaritan — returns to give thanks, becoming a living testimony of mercy. The deaf and mute man in Mark 7 is healed, and the crowd declares, “He has done all things well.” Each of these moments reveals that God’s glory often shines brightest where hope seems long gone. Even Job’s story follows this rhythm. His suffering was not punishment but preparation. His endurance became the stage for God’s revelation. When God finally speaks, He restores Job’s life and rebukes those who assumed suffering equals sin. The same truth unfolds in John 9: the disciples’ theology is corrected, and the man’s healing becomes a sermon about divine purpose. God’s glory does not wait for grand stages or perfect conditions. The man born blind was healed on an ordinary day, in an ordinary place, while sitting in his ordinary spot. God delights in showing His glory where no one expects it: on dusty roads, in quiet corners, in hospital rooms, in waiting rooms, in living rooms, in whispered prayers. His presence fills the unnoticed spaces of life. Sometimes God waits to answer a prayer so that when He moves, His glory is unmistakable. The delay is not neglect; it is divine timing. The waiting becomes part of the miracle. When the answer finally comes, everyone knows it was God who did it. The blind man’s healing teaches us that the purpose of the miracle is not merely restoration, but revelation. It reveals who God is: compassionate, sovereign, and worthy of praise. Every miracle that glorifies God produces a testimony. The healed woman in Luke 13 stood and praised God. The Samaritan leper in Luke 17 fell at Jesus’ feet in gratitude. The crowd in Mark 7 proclaimed His goodness. And the man in John 9 declared, “I was blind, but now I see.” When God works, people notice. When people notice, God receives glory. That truth still holds today. Your story of God’s faithfulness may be the miracle someone else needs to hear. The way He sustained you through illness, provided when resources ran out, or gave peace when circumstances made no sense are modern echoes of John 9. They remind us that God’s glory is not confined to ancient stories; it continues in the lives of those who trust Him. Job’s friends said,“ This happened because you sinned.” The disciples said, “This happened because someone sinned.” But Jesus said, “This happened so that God’s glory could be revealed.” That is the heart of John 9 and the heart of every believer’s journey. Some things in our lives are not the result of sin, but the stage on which God will one day reveal His glory. Sometimes He waits, not because He is ignoring us, but because the moment of healing or breakthrough will be unmistakably His. Keep praying with anticipation, not in frustration, as you await God’s timing and response that will simply show who He is. The miracle will be unmistakable—not about you, but all about God. When the light finally breaks through, when the answer comes, when the testimony is spoken, we realize what the blind man discovered: the miracle was never just about sight. It was about seeing God. © 2026 Randy DeVaul, MA. Want more content like this? Check out Exploring Scripture. Press Ctrl + P (Windows) or Cmd + P (Mac) to print this article or save it as a PDF.

What do these names all have in common? Jeffery Dahmer Judas John Gacy Hilter Pedro Lopez Ted Bundy Nero Harold Pontius Pilate Jesus loved them and died for their sins that day on the cross. While this can be hard for most to stomach the thought of this. It is true. We are all loved, regardless of what we have done. For God so loved this world that His Son came and died for each and every one of us. He carried the entirety of our sins, from the beginning of time until the end, while nailed to that cross for us. We have had many martyrs over the centuries who have died for one or many, but none of them carried our sins. When we die, we will awake anew. Our pain, sorrow, and misery will be gone. Jesus knows this, yet he He said, “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me.” If He had died a death of just martyrdom for us, He would have known He would awaken resurrected in the blink of an eye, His pain gone and never lived over again. Yet he sweat blood — Why? Because it wasn’t simple martyrdom. He was carrying the weight of every single person’s sins from all time. Imagine taking the weight of all your sins and multiplying that by billions. Then willingly taking those upon yourself while being crucified? Hematidrosis That is the name of the condition He had as He was praying to God the night Judas betrayed Him. This is a very rare condition where blood is excreted through sweat. All sources indicate that it is so rare that it is hard to research it properly, but there is one agreement amongst all the sources I have read. It can be caused by extreme stress, intense fear, severe anxiety, or facing death. To carry this for us, to love us so much to die for everyone, is love. Like I said earlier, it may be hard for people to stomach, but He died for the sinners; He died for what we call the worst of the worst. This wasn’t martyrdom, this was sacrifice for freedom from sin, death, and hell. This was love. He loves Judas, He loves Hitler, He loves John Gacy, He loves Herold. We all are loved, and He has carried the sins of everyone that day on the cross. When you remember this day, remember His love. Respect his sacrifice, respect what He did for all of us. This was not a simple death, this was pure hell He carried for us. © Jane Isley Sources: Matthew 26:39 NIV Luke 22:44 NIV Department of Internal Medicine, Cascais Hospital; Haematidrosis: The Rare Phenomenon of Sweating Blood Healthline; Hematidrosis: Is Sweating Blood Real? WebMD; What Is Hematidrosis?

"How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and day after day have sorrow in my heart? How long will my enemy triumph over me? Look on me and answer, Lord my God. Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death, and my enemy will say, “I have overcome him,” and my foes will rejoice when I fall. But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation. I will sing the Lord’s praise, for he has been good to me." Psalm 13 is a difficult prayer. If you have ever felt like God is absent or silent, it is a guide for the soul. 1. Bring God Your Unfiltered Heart David asks, “How long will You forget me? Forever?” These words do not seem to line up with what David knows about God. David knows God is faithful and present. But when he is in pain, what he knows and what he feels do not match. David doesn’t give God a polished, Sunday-morning version of himself. He gives God the truth of his experience. Sincere honesty is always better than empty correctness. This is something that I still struggle with. Even now, I find myself mid-prayer trying to “edit” my thoughts to make them sound more scripturally sound. I’ll start to tell God I feel abandoned, and then I’ll immediately correct myself: “But I know you’re always with me, so I shouldn’t say that…” I treat prayer like a theological exam I’m afraid of failing. But I’m learning that while theology is meant to be meditated on and reflected on (it is the anchor for the mind), the heart is meant to be poured out. When I am standing before God, He doesn’t want a lecture on His own attributes; He wants the raw, jagged truth of my perspective. 2. Trust Doesn’t Always Feel Like Confidence We often picture trust as calm confidence. Psalm 13 shows that trust can look like holding on when everything inside wants to let go. David turns from fear to hope within the same breath: “Will you forget me forever?” then immediately“ But I trust in Your unfailing love.” This is not a sudden emotional change. It is a decision. David is reminding himself of what is true because his feelings are lying to him. Trust is not the absence of fear. Trust is choosing God while fear is still present. If you are still praying, even if those prayers are accusations, you are trusting. After all, you don’t scream at a God you don’t believe is there. 3. Joy is a Protest, Not a Feeling The psalm ends with David singing. This does not mean his situation has changed. The enemy he fears is still real. David’s joy isn’t a reaction to a solved problem; it’s a protest against his circumstances. He rejoices in salvation. It’s the one thing the world didn’t give him and the one thing the silence can’t take away. Your joy is not found in a change of scenery. It’s found in the fact that your soul has already been rescued, even if your body is still in the dark. © Mikiyas Astatke

Today I’m glowing blue. You, my precious daughter, have decided to marry an unbeliever. When you broke the news, I tried to smile, but deep inside where the deep hurts hurt, I was crying. Forgive me, please, precious daughter. I don’t mean to rain on your parade, but parents have dreams as well. When you were born, my best friend told me to pray for your husband. I laughed. It seemed silly at the time. Pray for my newborn’s husband? I held you closely as you suckled, and I prayed for your husband, who may have also been suckling at that very moment. With eyes closed, I dreamed of your husband’s mama, also nursing and praying for you, her son’s future wife. I pictured the two of you growing step by step in parallel worlds, each following Jesus closely, and one day you would meet. At the time, it seemed a lifetime away. Remember when you were twelve? I kidnapped you for a weekend getaway to have ‘the talk’. Halfway into our three-hour trip, you guessed the true purpose of our time together. The light turned red where Highway 27 intersects Highway 63 in Hayward. My face was as red as the light when you blurted out, “So you and Dad have sexted FOUR times?” Yes, precious daughter. Four times. That’s why we have four kids. And I promised that when you married your groom, you would have God’s permission to ‘sext’ as well. Driving down the big hill in Stillwater, your eyes were always frantic to find the new bridal gowns on display in the store window. “Slow down!” you would plead, “That one! I want lace and beads on the bodice like that one.” The dream of your gown changed with every new outfit on the mannequin, but that special day set apart for you and your groom was always there, looming in the not-so-distant future. The first time I met him, I simply couldn’t believe him to be your future groom because he doesn’t believe in Jesus. For 28 years, I have been praying for your husband. Is this really him? For two years now, I have been waiting for you to remove the rose-colored glasses, waiting for you to desire a God-honoring man, waiting for you to crave a spiritual head-of-household. When you marry him, your children will not have a father who loves Jesus, attends church, or teaches his family to pray. He will instead be watching hockey games on his phone. In a match between hockey and Jesus, does hockey win? But it’s not true. Hockey will never win. Jesus is the victor. He has already won. You just need to decide if you’re going to be on the winning team. So in a few weeks, I will watch you make vows before a Justice of the Peace, not our Pastor. The wedding gown of your dreams will not adorn your body. You will pledge your life to one who does not confess that Jesus is Lord. I don’t know if I will make it through the vows without weeping tears of mourning, for how can I celebrate? I want you to be happy, but not happy in sin, happy in pursuing things that make Jesus happy. And if that day happens, I will forever continue to pray. I will pray for the souls of you, your husband, and your children. I will pray that in the tumult of marriage, you will only find peace in Jesus. I will pray that the people in your community will reach out to your family and invite you to church, and invite my grandbabies to VBS, and that you will realize the idyllic life you once had growing up with Jesus. But today, I will continue to glow blue, as I mourn the years of unanswered prayers and your future life with an unbelieving spouse. And I will pray that the Lord would answer my prayers in a new way. First published in Pursuing Perfection on Substack by © Tessa Lind, tessalind.substack.com

Most mornings, we don’t wake up and choose who we’ll become. We reach. Before we’ve prayed, before we’ve looked out a window, before we’ve even fully remembered our own name, our hand is already searching for the glowing rectangle on the bedside table. We call it normal. We call it “checking messages,” “catching up,” “just five minutes.” But the first thing you reach for is never neutral. It’s forming you. It’s shaping what you love, what you fear, what you expect from the day, and what you assume is true about yourself. It’s setting the emotional weather inside your chest before you’ve even stepped into the world. In older language, Christians called this kind of shaping a liturgy. Not because it happens in a cathedral, but because it happens every day. Liturgy is whatever trains your heart A liturgy is a repeated pattern that teaches you what to worship. Some liturgies are explicit: prayer, Scripture, worship with the church, confession, the Lord’s Supper. Others are unofficial but relentless: scrolling, comparing, performing, reacting, refreshing. The phone trains us with impressive consistency. It trains urgency. It trains appetite. It trains self-surveillance. It trains us to live as though the most important things are the newest things, and the truest things are the loudest things, and the realest things are the things that get affirmed. This isn’t a moral panic about technology. Most of us need our phones. Many of us use them for genuinely good purposes. But if you want an honest spiritual diagnosis, you don’t start by asking, “What do I believe?” You start by asking, “What do I reach for first?” What you reach for reveals what you worship. What your first ten minutes does to you Pay attention to what that first ten minutes tends to do to you. For some people it produces low-grade anxiety: a subtle sense of being behind before the day begins. For others it produces comparison: you haven’t even stood up yet, and you’re already measuring your life against somebody else’s highlight reel. For others it produces irritation: you start the day with outrage, cynicism, or contempt, because the feed is designed to keep you emotionally engaged. For others it produces numbness: you scroll not because you want to, but because you don’t want to feel whatever you might feel if you were quiet. And then, almost without noticing, we carry that shaped self into prayer – if we pray at all. We sit with an anxious, distracted, performative heart and wonder why devotion feels thin. Or we try to read Scripture while our attention is still trained to switch tracks every three seconds. We wonder why God feels far, when perhaps the problem isn’t that God is absent; perhaps it’s that we’ve been catechized elsewhere. Why New Year’s goals don’t stick This is why New Year’s resolutions often fail, even when the goals are good. Goals are downstream from worship. You can set a goal to “be more peaceful,” but if your morning liturgy trains you to be anxious, your nervous system will win most days. You can set a goal to “be more grateful,” but if your morning liturgy trains you to compare, gratitude will feel like pretending. You can set a goal to “be more faithful,” but if your morning liturgy trains you to be distracted, faithfulness will become another burden you feel like you’re failing. The answer isn’t harsher discipline. The answer is a gentler replacement liturgy. Not a productivity plan, but a practice of presence. This is where devotionals can be quietly powerful. Not because they make you “a better Christian,” but because they offer a small, concrete alternative to the phone’s shaping power. Devotionals are scaffolding: a set of rails for people who want to meet God in Scripture but don’t always know where to begin, or how to slow down, or how to respond honestly. Used poorly, they become another checkbox or another piece of spiritual content. Used well, they become something else: a daily return to reality. A way of saying, before anything else speaks to me, I want to be addressed by God. What you’re really looking for when you scroll If you want to change your morning, it helps to name what you’re actually seeking when you scroll. Usually it’s one of a few things: control (“If I know what’s happening, I’ll feel safe”), comfort (“If I’m amused or distracted, I won’t feel heavy”), validation (“If I’m seen, I’ll feel solid”), or escape (“If I’m anywhere else, I won’t have to face this day”). The irony is that Scripture speaks to those desires deeper than the feed ever can. Not with quick dopamine hits, but with something sturdier: the voice of a Father, the presence of a Savior, the companionship of the Spirit. The phone promises bread and gives you sugar. Jesus offers daily bread, and teaches you to ask for it. A gentle morning liturgy you can actually keep If you want a concrete alternative that doesn’t turn your mornings into a spiritual boot camp, try a gentle liturgy. Not as a law, but as an invitation you can actually keep. Put your phone out of reach – not across the room as a statement of righteousness, just far enough that reaching requires a decision. Then open Scripture or a devotional and read a short passage slowly. If you’re using a devotional, read the verse first, then the reflection. After that, pray one honest sentence to God. Not polished. Not impressive. Honest: “God, I feel anxious about today.” “Lord, I don’t want to forgive.” “Father, I’m tired and numb.” Then choose one sentence of truth to carry – write it down or say it aloud: “The Lord is my shepherd.” “There is no condemnation.” “My life is hidden with Christ.” Finally, choose one small act of obedience that fits the passage: a text you need to send, a confession you need to make, a boundary you need to hold, a person you need to encourage, a rest you need to receive. It can be seven minutes. It can be less. The point is not to earn God’s favour; it’s to begin the day being formed by God’s voice rather than the world’s noise. Why devotionals stall If devotionals haven’t worked for you in the past, it’s often because of one of three quiet misfires. First, you used them like content: reading about God without turning toward God. Second, you used them like a scoreboard: feeling “good” when you kept up and “bad” when you didn’t. Third, you used them without a return loop: you read, then the day swallowed it whole, and nothing lingered. That return loop matters more than people realize. It can be as small as bringing back your one sentence of truth once later – at lunch, on a walk, in the car, before bed. Not as performance. As re-centering. A way of letting Scripture remain a thread through the day rather than a morning moment you immediately forget. And maybe that’s the real goal – not “less screen time,” but a different kind of heart. The goal isn’t to become the kind of person who never scrolls. The goal is to become the kind of person whose inner life is not ruled by scrolling. The goal is to start the day with a different voice in your ear. A truer one. A gentler one. Because the gospel doesn’t just forgive you; it re-forms you. Not through intensity, but through repeated returning. Not through proving yourself, but through abiding. If you want a New Year reset that actually lasts, don’t only set goals. Replace the liturgy. Choose, once a day, to reach for Jesus first. Practical next step If you’re looking for a simple, Scripture-based devotional that helps replace the phone’s morning ritual with a gentler one, Identity in Christ was designed for exactly that: short daily readings, honest reflection prompts, and space to pray without pretending. You can find the devotional here (image link below). What’s the first thing you reach for most mornings – and what do you think you’re looking for when you do? © Nathan Cole

Introduction Scripture warns us that deception will increase in society, and I believe we are seeing more deception than ever, including fake news, AI-generated deepfake videos, and articles that redefine who Jesus Christ is and what He taught. TRUTH is the opposite of deception. It is that which adheres closest to reality. This article presupposes that truth is absolute and that its source is Jesus Christ, who, as the Creator and Sustainer of the universe (see John 1:1), established the boundaries of reality. The Bible and its unified theme of Jesus the Messiah have endured for over 2,700 years, have changed millions of lives, and form the basis of the world’s largest religion (Christianity). It is the book to trust for true and accurate information about Jesus, but some people these days aren’t taking its TRUTH at face value and want to reinterpret its teachings to suit them. And Jesus answered and said unto them, Take heed that no man deceive you. For many shall come in my name, saying, I am Christ; and shall deceive many. (Matthew 24:4–5, KJV) For there shall arise false Christs, and false prophets, and shall shew great signs and wonders; insomuch that, if it were possible, they shall deceive the very elect. (Matthew 24:24, KJV) And no marvel; for Satan himself is transformed into an angel of light. (2 Cor 11:14, NIV) Background Andrew Springer, a Journalist, Medium writer, and author of the post-Christian newsletter The Jesus Movement, has written several articles on Medium that illustrate this modern reinterpretation of Christianity (for example, see: 4 Major Lies Christians Tell About Jesus and The Most Dangerous Lie Christians Tell About Jesus). In his articles, he redefines who Jesus was, what the Gospels teach, and what sin really is. All of these teachings distort historic and traditional Christianity, but the real issue at stake is the question of authority. Do we trust the writings of the earliest Christian witnesses recorded and preserved in the New Testament, or the current reconstructions that reinterpret them? Points of contention — “4 Major Lies…” In this article, Springer claims that people have been deceived (due to erroneous biblical teachings and deceptive paintings) into believing that Jesus is either “a magical Son of God who requires you to believe the right things to get into Heaven” or a “radical revolutionary." Scripture teaches that Jesus is the humble, obedient Son of God who urged people to turn from their sin and to love God and each other. He continuously stressed the fact that His Father sent Him to earth to save lost sinners (Luke 19:10, John 3:16–17, 1 Timothy 1:15), to give His life as a sacrifice (Mark 10:45, 1 John 4:10), to reveal the truth and the Father (John 14:9), to fulfill Scripture and do God’s will (Matthew 5:17, Hebrews 10:7), to destroy the works of the devil (1 John 3:8) and to give peace and abundant life (John 10:10). All of these teachings involved an attitude of the heart, not a prescription for admittance into Heaven. Josephus, a first-century Jewish historian, portrayed Jesus as a good and wise teacher and a “doer of wonderful works” (Testimonium Flavianum, Antiquities 18.63). Other ancient secular authors who wrote about Jesus include Pliny the Younger (letter to Emperor Trajan), Tacitus (Annals Book 15), Suetonius (Claudius 25), and Phlegon (Origen, Against Celsus, Book 2.33) [2]. These writers described Jesus as a wise teacher who was crucified and whose followers believed he rose from the dead, which caused a movement that spread throughout the Roman Empire. Also in this article, Springer informed us that “Jesus wasn’t white”, “Jesus was political”, “Jesus’s message wasn’t about heaven or the afterlife”, and “Jesus never claimed to be divine.” Do you know anyone who ever thought that Jesus was white? I sure don’t. Let’s examine his other claims. Springer goes too far in presenting Jesus as a political figure who threatened Roman power. Jesus was crucified by the Roman authorities because the religious rulers twisted His message to turn the Roman government against him, not because He was inciting a revolt against Rome. Yes, the people in the time of Jesus wanted a “radical revolutionary” to overthrow Roman rule, but Jesus consistently emphasized that His kingdom was not of this world (see John 18:36). When He spoke of oppression, it was related to spiritual warfare, not the Roman government. Springer’s statement that Jesus’s message wasn’t about Heaven and the afterlife overlooked the many points Jesus made about His Kingdom’s impact on life on earth and in the afterlife. Rather than teaching that the Kingdom of God referred to political liberation, Jesus compared the Kingdom to a present, yet growing reality, an internal and spiritual power to transform lives, and a call to repentance and faith. He also claimed that the gospel writers reinterpreted stories, saying that scholars didn’t believe that Jesus actually said “I am the way, the truth, and the life…” in John 14:6. Springer backed up that claim with a reference from the Jesus Seminar. However, John 14:6 is considered authentic Scripture since it’s found in all early manuscripts of John’s Gospel. Other evidence that these are the actual words of Jesus includes manuscript integrity, inclusion in the seven “I AM” statements claiming divinity, theological cohesion, and early Church beliefs. Springer’s point that Jesus never claimed to be God rests on the case that Jesus never explicitly said, “I am God.” This objection is similar to the objection that the words “Trinity” and “Rapture” aren’t in the Bible. No, they’re not, but their underlying concepts certainly are. Jesus claimed to be equal with God the Father in passages such as John 10:30, John 10:33, and John 10:37–38. He claimed to be the divine “I AM” in John 8:58. He accepted worship and forgave sin in Matthew 14:33 and John 20:28. He claimed divine authority and preexistence in John 17:5, and the Apostles affirmed His deity in John 1:1, Colossians 2:9, and Hebrews 1:8. Points of contention — “The Most Dangerous Lie…” Springer’s claim that belief in the resurrection of Jesus is false and harmful is not supported by the historical and textual evidence. It presents a view of Jesus that directly contradicts the biblical record and the historic Christian faith. It disregards evidence from reports of the empty tomb, the missing body, multiple independent sources attesting to the empty tomb, and the physical appearances of Jesus to the Apostles and over 500 of His followers. [3] His claim that the resurrection met a psychological need for the Apostles’ disappointment, and evolved into doctrine, is not supported by the historical record. For example, in 1 Corinthians 15, the Apostle Paul notes multiple named witnesses to the event, the appearance of Jesus in bodily form to a group of people, and the Apostle Paul saying he “received”, not invented, the tradition. These writings, which date to within a few years of Jesus’ death, were written too early to be legends, which take much more time to develop. Psychologists say that hallucinations are usually individual rather than shared group experiences. Also, the disciples moving from intense fear of the Jews to boldly proclaiming the Gospel cannot be explained as purely psychological. From this evidence, it’s clear that the belief in the resurrection became an early conviction rather than wishful thinking. Springer then claimed that the Gospels aren’t historically reliable. This is an overstatement of what scholars actually agree on. While the details are debated, most scholars agree on the key facts of the Gospels, such as that Jesus was crucified and that His followers believed He appeared to them afterward. They also agree that the Gospels include unflattering details, such as the women being the first witnesses of the resurrection, and they were written within the lifetimes of the eyewitnesses. He assumed that the resurrection of Jesus turned people away from His message about justice and toward the afterlife. This is a false assumption. The earliest Christians didn’t see a division between Jesus’ life and resurrection; they saw it as confirming his message of radical love for God and for each other, as demonstrated by their sharing everything with one another. He claimed that belief in the resurrection was useful to the Roman Empire, especially after Christianity was legalized by Constantine. This is another misleading assumption that confuses the abuse of a belief with the belief itself. The problem is not theology but its misuse. Another false claim Springer made in this article is that you don’t need the resurrection to follow Jesus. This idea is directly opposed to the core doctrines of Christianity, as illustrated powerfully by the Apostle Paul. And if Christ be not raised, your faith is vain; ye are yet in your sins. (1 Corinthians 15:17, KJV) This doctrine is not a later addition to Christianity; belief in the resurrection was foundational from the beginning. Leaving out the resurrection to follow Jesus merely for His teachings is a complete reinterpretation of the Gospels. Conclusion Andrew Springer’s articles don’t offer any new objections to the truth of biblical Christianity. They simply reiterate the same errors that have been refuted for centuries, dating back to the earliest Christians. These objections include denying the deity of Christ, denying the resurrection, distorting His message, and reducing Him to a mere moral teacher. The real Jesus is the biblical Jesus, who is the eternal Son of God. He came to earth and lived a sinless life. He died for our sins and rose again from the dead. The evidence shows that He was not simply a myth or a good moral teacher. He is the Christ, the Son of the living God, and in Him alone is forgiveness, peace, and eternal hope. What Springer dismisses as “lies” are the truths that define Christianity. Jesus did claim to be divine and equal to the Father, He did forgive sins, and He did accept worship. All of the Apostles believed He was God. Whosoever denieth the Son, the same hath not the Father: he that acknowledgeth the Son hath the Father also. (1 John 2:23, KJV) To say that belief in the resurrection of Jesus is false and harmful is to dismiss the weight of evidence of both Scripture and history. The resurrection of Jesus is the foundation of our faith, hope, justice, and ultimate renewal. It assures us that evil will not triumph, that it won’t have the last word, and that our suffering is not meaningless. And if Christ be not raised, your faith is vain; ye are yet in your sins. (1 Corinthians 15:17, KJV) © 2026 Debra Hodges. Want more content like this? Explore more articles in Rethinking Doctrine. References 1. Maier, Paul L. (2016, March 30) Josephus and Jesus https://www.namb.net/apologetics/resource/josephus-and-jesus/#:~:text=The%20standard%20text%20of%20Josephus,who%20accept%20the%20truth%20gladly 2. Mitchell, S., & Mitchell, S. (2025, October 9). Ancient Secular References to Jesus — jesusinhistoryandscience. jesusinhistoryandscience -. https://jesusinhistoryandscience.com/?p=4488 3. Lopez, R., PhD. (2011, August 8). The Physical Resurrection A Historical Fact: Part two. https://www.biblearchaeology.org/research/topics/general-apologetics/2852-the-physical-resurrection-a-historical-fact-part-two? Associated For Biblical Research; The Physical Resurrection a Historical Fact: Part Two

I sat down with one of our guest writers, Neil Allen. We were in my office, with cats vying for our undivided attention, talking about faith, loss, and the moments that shaped why he believes. I asked him to think back on his life. Was there something God had done in his life that was inexplicable, something that made him believe? Stifling a grin. He started by telling me how, as a kid, he hated church and Sunday school. I can honestly say I didn’t know that about him, but it is fitting. He told me, “But I read Bible storybooks all day, and my mom made me watch Billy Graham on TV, and I was the holiest kid out there listening to him.” “I knew I wasn’t saved yet, but I knew I would be.” When he got older, he told me about a moment when he decided at the last second to stay home, feeling sorry for his parents because they would not have been able to get all the work done on the family farm. Looking back, he could see God’s hand in that decision. Spending time working alongside his mother every day, he began to notice something about her that was different. He told me one day a realization hit him. “You’re a Christian.” “But I never said that to her,” he admitted. “And I never told her that the reason I hated church as a kid was because God gave me a Bible verse when I was in grade school. ‘They worship me, but their lips are far from me.’ I was never to tell her that.” Years later, he told me, he was listening to Kenneth Copeland on tape. (“he’s a heretic, by the way.”) Neil wanted to clarify to me, and he prayed Romans 10:8 and 10:9 with everything in his heart. He said he suddenly felt a change, a giant whoosh from head to toe, and thought to himself, “What’s that?” “I’m saved!” He ran out to the machine shed to tell the tractors, then into the barn to tell the cows. “I’m going to heaven when I die! I’m going to heaven when I die!” The look on his face as he shared that moment was like watching the sun break through clouds and light up everything it touches. We laughed, and I asked if it was something physical he felt. He gestured from his legs to his head. “You could actually feel it; it was an energizing wave.” I asked him how old he was when this happened. He knew the exact date, even the day of the week. “I was 28. December 12th, 1979. A Wednesday.” We talked about the ups and downs of faith, whether he had always grown or if he struggled. Looking back, he said his faith had always grown, and two lessons shaped that growth: never brag and always tithe. Those two lessons heavily cemented why he believes. Then he went quiet. I could tell he was thinking about something heavier, something I knew all too well. Neil is my father, and neither of us knew this part of the conversation would come up while talking about why he believes. “When my wife was killed, it settled the question of whether I was saved or not between us.” (God and him) And it took her death to know that I was saved.” He paused to collect himself. “She had me convinced that I was a fraud and a fake, and that's the absolute truth.” I had to pause before responding. This was something I didn’t know he had gone through. I asked if that was because of the years of abuse, what he, and all of us, had endured. “Yes” A few moments later, he continued. He told me, “November 1st, 1995, my friend George and I finished roofing a big mansion west of Mosinee. On my way home, I said to God, ‘I can’t take this anymore.’” He told me that the following spring, God revealed to him that she would be killed in a car accident. He didn’t believe it at first; he said honestly that he just “poo-pooed it.” Then he talked about the week of July 4th, 1996. Nothing he did was right in her eyes. Everything was wrong according to her. He was trying to stop her from making a huge mistake. “It was like the grocery store we owned down in Arkansas all over again,” he said. “Monstrous mistake.” But she would not listen, and then she threatened him twice. So he went back to God and asked, “How long is this going to last, Lord?” He said he was given an exact answer: “three months and three weeks,” (seventeen weeks.) There are more details of what he was told that day that he chose not to share, and I did not press him for them. But he did say this. “Everything God told me about it worked out right.” We sat there in silence for a moment, just looking at each other. I knew what he had been through, the abuse, the fear, the pain. She put all of us through it. I do not blame my father. I have always made sure he knows that. We often talk about what happened; it’s something he needs. There are just some things that only he and I can ever understand. I have spent years praying and supporting him as he processes the trauma, and I could not be prouder of the man and father he has become. When we continued, he told me two things that left me speechless. When the accident happened, he said the presence of God was so strong that the hair on his arms stood on end. He knew before I even had the chance to call him and tell him we had been in an accident. And then he gestured to his ribs and chest. “I could feel it was empty, hollow in here.” He explained that in Genesis, God took Eve from Adam’s side. When he spoke with other Christians who had experienced similar abusive situations, and then the loss of that partner. They also experienced a similar sensation. A hollowness, but not an empty one, like one would think, there was pain and hurt that were removed from his side and filled with God’s presence. I stated, “He removed that damaged section from her.” “Yes,” He took a deep breath, then said something even harder. “I know I failed you and your sister terribly as a father,” he said. I nodded yes, but I said but…. I told him, I didn’t blame him, nor was I angry with him. We were all abused by her, and that is something that takes a hell of a toll on a person and sometimes a lifetime to recover from. I told him there was something he excelled at, and that he needed to hear and know this. He is why my sister and I are believers, and why his grandchildren are believers. That despite everything that happened when I was younger, I looked to him for guidance in God, not her abuse of the Bible. He was always my solid, unwavering anchor. And as I grew up and started exploring my faith on my own, he kept me in the right direction; he was my compass to God. “If I could do it all over, I would have gotten you both counseling. I thought counseling was bullcrap back then. I know I’ll be the one to answer to God for what happened, the failed marriage, the failed family, not your mother.” I told him his slate is clean. He is forgiven and loved by God and me. And that one day we will see her again, and yes, to those reading, we do believe we will. There is more to Neil and my story than can be told here. Only God could heal us to the great extent we are healed, that allow us to forgive and have such an open, honest, and loving conversation about what we went through, when the world teaches hate, holding onto grudges, and revenge. My father’s forgiveness and faith, through everything he has endured, come from God’s love, mercy, and constant presence in his life. He is the kind of man who will drive an hour to sit down with a stranger over coffee and talk about God for hours. He will drop everything to be at your side. He will answer his phone at 3 in the morning for prayer, and he is part of more prayer chains than I can count. Statistically, neither of us should be the believers we are today, after what we went through at the hands of someone who used the Bible to abuse and manipulate. But that is the power of God. Hold onto Him, and He will carry you through anything. My father believes because he has seen God’s hand at work in real time. © 2026 Neil Allen. Want more content like this? Explore more articles in the Why We Believe series.

If someone came up to me and asked me why I believe, this is where I’d start: “If someone asks about your hope as a believer, always be ready to explain it, but do this in a gentle and respectful way.” I Peter 3:15b-16a NLT There are countless reasons why I believe in Christ as my Savior and Lord, but I’d like to highlight three main ones. He is Worthy “You are worthy, O Lord our God, to receive glory and honor and power. For you created all things, and they exist because you created what you pleased.” Revelation 4:11 NLT I came to know Christ as a young girl. In fact, I was so young I don’t even remember how old I was, but if I were to guess, I was three. My mother is a believer, and she asked my sister and me if we wanted to accept the Lord into our hearts as Savior a long time ago. I did not have an easy upbringing, but I am thankful for her guidance here. After that, coming to God with my hurts and pains came naturally to me. I’d often find myself in the Psalms for comfort as a bullied child, and drew strength from David’s accounts, especially his request to God on smiting others, and my prayers would often mimic wanting the Lord to show up for me this way personally. Although I never witnessed the Lord avenging me like the Old Testament suggests he’s capable of, I did realize I was a worm in comparison to this all-powerful, all-mighty God, and I came to learn throughout my formative years that He alone is worthy of all honor, glory, and praise. I Was in a Pit of Despair, and He Rescued Me. “He lifted me out of the pit of despair, out of the mud and the mire. He set my feet on solid ground and steadied me as I walked along.” Psalm 40:2 NLT Fast forward to nineteen, pregnant for the third time, and ready for a change, I cried out to God again. This time, utterly defeated and quite sarcastically, I threw my fist towards heaven and charged, “If there is any truth to this grace thing, I want it.” The Lord met me in that terrible place and began to reveal to me just how far I’d run from the warmth and safety of his loving arms. Year after year, I struggled with deep-pitted pain and loss, raising three children alone for nearly a decade. Through many bitter tears and a venomous strike, only rebellion can provide, I continued. Day after day, week after week, I sought the Lord and brought him my pain. Little by little, he set me free from debilitating addictions and sin that held me captive for many years. Eventually, I realized I had been rescued. The Lord had brought me into a nice, spacious land, but only recently, and after nearly 30 years of obeying the Lord, has he revealed this to me. I am thankful today for two things. One, that he revealed to me at nineteen that I was in a pit, and two, that he showed me the way out and placed my feet on solid ground. He Remains Beside Me Always. “So be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid and do not panic before them. For the LORD your God will personally go ahead of you. He will neither fail you nor abandon you.” Deuteronomy 31:6 NLT More recently, I’ve had plenty of more questions for God. Questions like, “If you really loved me, why did you allow my twenty-five-year-old son to die?,” or “Why is my fourteen-year-old daughter so sick that I had to abruptly leave my job as a minister and ELA teacher of nearly sixty 5th-grade students last week?” Why God, Why?, I lament, and I candidly ask. These types of blows assuredly sting, especially since I’ve spent many years equating my walk with Christ as something to be earned, or a type of performance I share with him. I did not intend to pick up this religious idea, but if you are a part of a church body for just about any amount of time, I am afraid this is a very real ideology, and as a young woman, I fell victim. Since 2022, however, the Lord has been revealing something new. God is always with me. God loves me, as if I were his only daughter, and it is his good pleasure to keep me safe, wrap me in his love, and surround me with his precious presence. He also remains in front of me, and I am simply to walk in the way He has already pre-determined I do. He has shown me that I am safe. That He is the Good Shepherd. That I am in his kingdom-ever-after pen, and that it’s OK to explore pastures. I am safe. This has been my favorite breakthrough in Christ to date because I have always been terrified to make a wrong move. I did not feel like a part of God’s family. I felt like a slave, a hired hand, who must perform perfectly, or I am in danger of losing my salvation. This type of thinking is so heavy and debilitating. Today, I am convinced that God, more than anything, not only wants us to receive the precious gift of salvation, but also wants us to learn how to walk with Jesus and the help of the Holy Spirit so that we firmly understand He is with us, and that He will never, ever leave us. I now boldly declare that it’s not about me at all. It’s about Jesus’s faithfulness to keep us, his unfathomable willingness to remain beside us, and his longing that every single one of us would come to know Him as Lord, Savior, and King. For this revelation, I can not thank God enough. It has been slow coming, but it is sure, and now I just want to proclaim from the rooftops what a mighty God we serve! This is it, folks. This is why I believe. He is worthy, He is my deliverer, and He will never leave me. I pray that if you’ve never made Jesus your Lord and Savior, you would come to him, as you are, and allow him to be yours so that you may be freed from this world and all of her pain and suffering eventually, and spend eternity with him. © 2026 Worth Carrying. Want more content like this? Explore more articles in the Why We We Believe series.