"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’m not ashamed of the Gospel, but rather than preach to you, I thought it might be better to answer a few questions, to explain why I choose to live in what some people consider a “toxic environment.” Why did I become a Christian? How did it happen? What is it like? Why am I still a Christian? What could anyone say to talk me out of this “mythical nonsense”? What is the one thing about Jesus that I’m sure the rest of the world cannot live without? I’ll try not to babble on. If anything here takes your fancy, we can always do coffee. Though it might take the whole coffee grove. 1. Why Did I Become a Christian? I was about fifty years old when my life began to unravel. I was going through what I can only describe as a mental meltdown. Medication didn’t help, and neither did alcohol. Friends and coworkers had their own struggles and couldn’t do much for me either. I had tried various psychological self-help techniques, but they only seemed to work when life was already going well. As soon as things started to wobble, the same old insecurities, “terrors” would be a better word, came crashing back in. I never felt suicidal because I was afraid of death. But there were times when death began to seem less frightening than continuing to live the way I was living. When I cried out to God in absolute panic, fear, and terror… He turned up. 2. How Did It Happen? For most of my life, I had been running from something. That explains the constant travel, the search for high-risk experiences, and the habit of changing jobs whenever things became uncomfortable. But eventually I reached a point where it felt like there were no more places left to run. I was out of my depth at work, living yesterday, today, and tomorrow all in the same moment. I felt like a pressure cooker about to explode. Depression is different for everyone, but mine felt like a black box about the size of a VCR that sucked in all hope that could be had. It was a strange mixture of crippling fear and numbness. I dreaded going to sleep because that meant I would have to wake up the next day and face it all again. From the outside, there seemed to be nothing I feared, yet I was afraid of almost everything. One wet and miserable Sunday morning, very early, I realized I was sliding deeper into that darkness. I could almost see myself disappearing into it and dragging my whole family down with me. At that moment, I felt like I had four options: medication, alcohol, drugs, or God. I had already tried alcohol years earlier, and that didn’t work. So God seemed the cheapest place to start. If that did not work, I could always try something else. My prayer wasn’t eloquent by any means. I simply said, “I’ve f***ed it all up and don’t know what to do.” There was no lightning bolt and no dramatic moment. In fact, at first it seemed like nothing had happened at all. But slowly the days began to change. They grew longer, the paralysis lifted, and the pressure began to ease. It was some time later that my mother said something that made me realize what had happened. She asked, “Remember when you were depressed?” There were no drugs or psychological treatment involved in pulling me out, only the Holy Spirit. And eventually, I got baptized. When people ask me, “What is the Holy Spirit like?” I struggle to give a thorough answer because there is just simply no one else like Him. (I’m the one fully committed to the underwater portion of the ceremony.) 3. What is it like? It is more than a spiritual experience. It is meeting a Person who loves me unconditionally, as no mere mortal can. Someone who will work with me and lead me to be the person He created me to be. It also meant discovering that God was not out to punish me or catch me failing. Instead, I began to understand that He genuinely has my best interests at heart, just as He does for everyone. At the same time, God is not a personal genie who exists to grant our wishes. He is the Creator, and He has a purpose for His creation. Humanity plays a central role in that plan. One of the most surprising realizations for me was this: God loved me enough to accept me exactly as I was, but He loved me too much to leave me that way. That meant a lot of crap in my life had to be chipped away, and some of that work is still ongoing. Sin is part of that conversation. It isn’t simply a list of forbidden behaviors that determines whether someone gets into heaven. At its core, sin is what happens when our will is in conflict with God’s will. Despite popular assumptions, God is not a grumpy killjoy trying to ruin everyone’s fun. Unfortunately, Christians sometimes give that impression. One of the best descriptions of Christianity I have ever heard is this: “Obey God and have fun” You don’t have to become good before you come to God. Instead, get God, and He will make you good — eventually. (Be patient, it does take a bit of time) Every Christian is a work in progress. It is a metamorphism. The transformation is something like a caterpillar becoming a butterfly. The caterpillar cannot control the process and cannot stop it. God does the work, and you notice things that happened that you didn’t expect. Looking back, I can see how many of my attitudes have changed. Things I once thought attractive no longer hold the same appeal, and things I once dismissed as worthless have become deeply meaningful. That change of mind is what the Bible calls repentance, and real-life change doesn’t happen without it. Letting go of control can feel frightening, but I have discovered there is a strange freedom in it. If anything, my only regret is that I didn’t do it sooner. Another topic worth mentioning is Satan. God gets the blame for everything, but a number of clever people are given credit for this quip: “One of the artifices of Satan is, to induce men to believe that he does not exist,” You can see it goes back a long way by the quaint language. He is malevolent, and his only interest is to steal, kill, and destroy. If you don’t believe there is a Satan, go to Northbridge, Soho, or King’s Cross and try to resist his activities. See how long you last. 4. Why are you still a Christian? Worshipping the God of the Bible is the only thing that has ever brought real sanity into a very insane world. It is not pseudo/cultural/quasi small ‘c’ christianity either. True Christianity is a Person, not an organisation, a building, or a set of rules compiled by a lot of self-righteous old men. Perhaps you’ve experienced being alone while in the midst of a crowd, and you’re the only one not in it. I may now be alone at times, but I never feel lonely. Actually, solitude is something I enjoy now. I have no fear of death because there is something after. My prayer, however, is to die well so that you guys can see that my faith has been genuine. 5. What could anyone say to talk me out of this mythical nonsense? Nothing. Faith without reason is unreasonable faith. I test every claim against Jesus. It takes study, not just reading, to get the vibe of the Bible. A helpful analogy comes from banking. Tellers are trained to spot counterfeit money, but they do not spend all their time studying fake bills. They handle the real thing so often that anything false becomes obvious. However, there must be something that even cynics and skeptics cannot deny about this “mythical nonsense,” I believe. And there is: Prophecy. The claim: Bible prophecies were injected into the Text after some event long ago, so they are unverifiable. I have a challenge for anyone who wants to take this on. In the Book of Isaiah, God promises to bring Israel back to the Land from exile a second time. But that was written about 120 years before the first exile ever even happened. Recorded history shows this first exile began in the First Year of Nebuchadnezzar, about 2,600 years ago, and finished in the Nineteenth Year of Nebuchadnezzar. (Google it.) Recorded history also shows that this second return occurred over a protracted period. It began in 1948, when Israel declared independence. Then, in 1967 (the Six-Day War), when they regained control of the Temple Mount, nineteen years later. (Read old copies of the newspaper.) That means the prophecy in Isaiah was written after 1967. If anyone can explain that, I’m all ears. God can withstand rigorous scrutiny. 6. What is the one thing about Jesus that I’m sure the rest of the world can’t live without? The answer, “The peace of God, which surpasses all understanding and is healing for the soul.” This kind of peace, which can only come from God, is difficult to explain because it is beyond all human understanding. We live in a world in which we were never designed for. With the pace of our days constantly increasing. It is a lie disguised as efficiency. But efficient for what exactly? To produce more stuff? That “time-is-money” saying is a lie from the pits of hell and robs you of peace. My experience. Medication can help manage pain, anxiety, and depression, but they do not bring healing. Actually, feeling the pain is better than feeling nothing at all. There are no psychological self-help techniques that work on the level needed to truly heal your soul and body. Minor things can be managed, but sooner or later, the old inadequacies find a chink in the armour of a positive attitude and will come pouring back in. It is best described as a drowning person lifting himself out of the water by his own hair. The help must come from a different paradigm, and that help is there for anyone who asks for it. But the price is high. Your pride. The reason the world doesn’t embrace this free offering from God is pride; that inexplicable, stupid, and wholly unnecessary urge to show how much pain can be endured by “doing it my way.” (There could be a song in that title.) I’ve been told that Jesus is for women and old men. My reply to that has always been, “I can’t speak for women, but by the Grace of God, I’m an old man.” Will you be able to say the same? — Now that’s a conversation stopper. I try not to preach to you, but I pray. Oh, how I pray. © 2026 Brad Banardict. Want more content like this? Explore more articles in the Why We Believe series.

Deep down, all humans want to believe in something. Without belief, we would not have evolved and survived this long. We would not have science, medicine, or inventions if we did not believe they would work. We all believe in something, whether we want to admit it or not. For example, atheists may not believe in God, but they believe that God does not exist. A bit confusing to comprehend, but there is still a belief within their conviction. While I have never been an atheist, I once considered myself a spiritual being who believed that God was anything and everything. Therefore, I considered myself and all others to be God, as well as creation itself. I rejected Christianity. I never fully understood the love of Jesus Christ. So how come after years of rejecting Him, I now believe in God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit with all of my heart? Through all of the messiness and brokenness of the world, through all of the struggles I’ve had with mental health, through all of the struggles I’ve had to belong and fit in… I don’t have to pretend with Jesus. I don’t have to strive for perfection. He’s already done that for all of us. I don’t have to put on a front with Him; he knows everything about me. He knows everything about everyone! Even the darkest secrets I try to hide so deeply from the rest of the world, He sees right through me. And you know what? It’s relieving. Isn’t it exhausting hiding secrets full of shame from friends and family? I’ve made so many poor decisions in my life, so many that I’ve yet to tell a single soul. I’ve tried so hard to maintain a perfect facade, that I’m strong, mature, and almost ‘’perfect.’’ That I’m doing just fine. But I’m not. And Jesus knows that down to the core. I think we forget that we are all human beings. We are not always happy, we are not perfect, and we are not God. And you know what? After years of fighting this brokenness and imperfection, I’m learning to accept it and give it all to Jesus. So yes, I’m not always nice, happy, smart, or mature. But guess what? No one else is. And if someone says they’re not broken in some sort of way, it’s a pretense. I am not perfect. Nobody is perfect. And I’m okay with that because Jesus fixes that by perfectly loving every single person. So when I feel lonely and am let down by friends and family, I know that He won’t ever let me down. And if you’ve read my testimony (which, if you haven’t, check it out!), you know that I struggle mentally. Sometimes it feels like my own mind and body are letting me down. And re-reading that just sounds plain sad, but it’s the truth. Lately, I’ve been struggling badly with anxiety, and some of those depressive feelings have been coming back. And man, sometimes it’s hard to keep believing in Jesus and His perfect love. Sometimes I question why He’d allow something like that to happen to me, to others, and to the world as a whole. But something in me just needed to write this, and I think that is enough proof of God’s power working within. Through all the pain, I still look up to God. I still believe. Although I am going through a rough patch (and will in the future to come), I will never forget the sacrifice that Jesus made for humankind. He lived a perfect life, never once sinned, and still took on all of humanity’s sin, past, present, and future, and died with it on the cross. I will never forget how he took away the suicidal thoughts I had last school year. I will never forget how blessed I am to have a wonderful family, friendships, university, and environment to live in. So yes, I am struggling, but I still believe. © 2026 Sienna Krieg. Want more content like this? Explore more articles in the Why We Believe series.

All of us walk into college carrying some version of the same quiet hope: that we’ll find something worth it. Maybe for you, that “something” is success, a career that validates your effort and intelligence. Maybe it’s relationships, deep friendships, a sense of belonging, or even love. Maybe it’s freedom, the chance to finally define your own life on your own terms. Or maybe, if you’re honest, you’re not entirely sure what you’re looking for, you just know you want it to matter. I came into college like that too. I had my own ideas of what would make life meaningful. But somewhere along the way, almost by accident, I stumbled upon something I didn’t expect. Something I didn’t even know I was looking for. And over time, I came to believe it was the most valuable thing I could ever find. Jesus once described this kind of discovery with a short, almost easy-to-miss story:“The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which a man found and covered up. Then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field.” (Matthew 13:44) At first glance, it’s simple. A man finds treasure, recognizes its value, and gives up everything to obtain it. But the deeper you think about it, the more it begins to reflect something true about how we all live, and what we’re actually searching for. Found by Accident The man in Jesus’ story wasn’t out hunting for treasure. He wasn’t on some carefully planned expedition. He simply stumbled upon it. That’s not unusual, especially in the ancient world. Before banks existed, people would bury valuables to protect them during war or crisis. Over time, those treasures were forgotten, hidden beneath ordinary ground, waiting for someone to discover them. Even today, stories like that still happen. In 2015, a woman named Bobbie Oskarson was walking through a state park in Arkansas when she picked up what looked like an unusual rock. It turned out to be an 8.52-carat diamond worth nearly a million dollars. She wasn’t searching for treasure. She was just walking. And yet, she found something incredibly valuable. That’s what encountering the gospel can feel like. For many people, it’s not something they were actively pursuing. They weren’t necessarily searching for God. But somewhere in a conversation, a community, a moment of reflection. they come across something that feels different. Something weighty. Something real. It’s like finding treasure for free. Hidden in Plain Sight But here’s the twist: when Bobbie first picked up that diamond, it didn’t look like a diamond. It looked like dirt. That’s often how real treasure appears at first, hidden, unimpressive, easy to overlook. Meanwhile, the things that look most appealing on the surface are often the least valuable. History is full of examples of this confusion. In 1872, two con artists staged what became known as the “Great Diamond Hoax.” They scattered cheap stones across a field and convinced investors it was filled with diamonds. People poured in money, eager to claim their share of the supposed treasure. But over time, the truth came out: it was all fake. The tragedy wasn’t just that they were deceived. It’s that they invested everything into something worthless. That same dynamic plays out in our lives more often than we’d like to admit. The world is full of what you might call “false advertising.” It tells us that fulfillment can be found in achievement, status, pleasure, or recognition. It invites us to “sell all” for things that promise meaning, but can’t ultimately deliver it. Sometimes, we don’t realize the mistake until much later. I once heard a story about a little girl who found what she thought was an ancient arrowhead in her backyard. She was ecstatic. She spent thirty minutes carefully washing and polishing it, only to realize, with a cry of frustration, that it was just a rock. Thirty minutes, polishing something worthless. But if we’re honest, many of us spend not minutes, but years, sometimes decades, doing the same thing. We polish our resumes, our careers, our image, our portfolios. We invest enormous time and energy into things we assume are valuable, only to discover later that they can’t carry the weight of our expectations. As the actor Jim Carrey once said, “I think everybody should get rich and famous and do everything they ever dreamed of so they can see that it’s not the answer.” The problem isn’t that these things are bad. It’s that they’re not ultimate. They can’t give us what we most deeply need. And if we’re not careful — if we don’t learn to see clearly — we may spend our lives chasing what looks like treasure, only to end up with something far less. Learning to See True Treasure So how do you tell the difference? Jesus’ story suggests that it comes down to having the right kind of vision, to recognize what is truly valuable, even when it’s hidden. When the man in the field finds the treasure, he knows immediately what it’s worth. That recognition changes everything. His priorities shift. His decisions follow. In my own life, discovering the gospel felt like that. At first, I only had a vague sense that it mattered. But over time, as I began to understand it more deeply, I started to see just how valuable it really was. It wasn’t just a set of beliefs or a religious framework. It was something that spoke directly to the core needs of my life. It gave me identity. In a world that constantly pressures us to define ourselves by performance, grades, achievements, appearance, success, the gospel offers something radically different. It says your worth is not something you earn; it’s something you’re given. It’s secure, not fragile. It doesn’t fluctuate with success or failure. It gave me belonging. Not just surface-level connections, but deep, lasting relationships rooted in something more than shared interests or convenience. Friendships that endure through different seasons of life. A sense of being known and accepted, not for what I can offer, but for who I am. It gave me purpose. A clear understanding of why I’m here and what my life is for. Not just to build something for myself, but to love others, to invest in what lasts, to be part of something that has eternal significance. The more I saw these things, the more it became obvious: this was treasure. The Logic of “Selling All” That’s why the man in Jesus’ story does something that, at first glance, seems extreme. He sells everything. Not reluctantly. Not out of obligation. But “in his joy.” Because once you truly see the value of something, the decision becomes simple. If you knew, with certainty, that one path was infinitely better than all others, it wouldn’t feel like a sacrifice to choose it. It would feel like wisdom. Think about it this way: if you could go back in time and invest in something you knew would multiply in value beyond imagination, you wouldn’t hesitate. You’d rearrange everything to take advantage of that opportunity. That’s the logic of the kingdom of heaven. It’s not about losing your life, it’s about exchanging it for something far greater. As missionary Jim Elliot once put it, “He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose.” An Invitation in the Middle of College So let me come back to where we started. What are you hoping to find in college? Because whether you realize it or not, you are making bets every day. With your time. Your energy. Your attention. Your decisions. You’re investing your life into something. The question isn’t whether you’re searching for treasure. The question is whether you’ll recognize it when you find it. College will offer you countless things that present themselves as “the thing," the thing worth chasing, the thing worth sacrificing for, the thing that will finally make your life meaningful. Some of those things will be good. But not all of them are treasure. So here’s the invitation: take the time to explore, to question, to investigate. Don’t just accept what you’re told is valuable, examine it. Test it. Ask whether it can actually deliver what it promises. And consider the possibility that the most valuable thing you could find might not look impressive at first glance. That it might be hidden. That it might require you to look deeper. Because if it’s real, if it truly is treasure, then it would be foolish not to go all in. The Treasure Turns Out to Be You There’s one more layer to Jesus’ story that’s easy to miss. Most people read it and assume we are the ones finding the treasure, and that God is the treasure we discover. But what if the roles are reversed? What if the treasure is actually you? The broader story of the Bible tells of a God who created people not out of necessity, but out of love. And even after humanity turned away, choosing independence over relationship, God didn’t walk away. Instead, He pursued. He gave everything. The apostle Paul describes it this way: “Though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you by his poverty might become rich” (2 Corinthians 8:9). In other words, God “sold all” to find you. Not because you were easy to find. Not because you were obviously valuable. But because, in His eyes, you were worth it. And that changes everything. Because now the question isn’t just whether you will recognize the treasure. It’s whether you will respond to the One who already sees you as one. What Will You Do With What You Find? At the end of the day, all of us are building our lives around something. We are all, in a sense, high-stakes gamblers, placing bets with our time, our priorities, our futures. And those bets will shape the outcome of our lives. So if there really is a treasure, a sure thing, something of infinite value, then the most rational, most logical, most life-giving response would be to go all in. Not out of pressure. But out of joy. Because you’ve finally found something worth it. © David Jun

I’ve always known who I am in Christ. Or at least, that’s what I believed. I grew up in a Christian home where faith wasn’t something you chose, it was something you lived. Sunday mornings were filled with gospel music, and everything about my life was shaped by what it meant to follow God. For a long time, I never questioned it. I didn’t stop to ask who I might be outside of that identity. My choices, my values, even my desires were all filtered through what I believed God wanted from me. But recently, I started to wonder. Is it possible to have an identity apart from my faith? Can I still know God and also discover who I am beyond what I’ve been taught? Is there a part of me that I’ve never explored because I’ve always been trying to be who I thought I should be? These are uncomfortable questions to sit with. Because there have been moments where following God felt like losing parts of myself. When Faith Starts to Feel Like Disappearing I was taught to decrease so that He could increase. But somewhere along the way, it started to feel like I was disappearing completely. What I felt, what I wanted, what I was naturally drawn to, it all seemed secondary. The focus was always on becoming someone better, someone more pleasing to God. And the result? I lost confidence in who I was. I found myself constantly trying to become someone else, someone I thought God would approve of while quietly disconnecting from who I actually was. The Questions I Asked So I started asking a different question. Not whether I could have an identity separate from God, but whether I had misunderstood what it meant to walk with Him. Because the more I reflected, the more I began to see something I hadn’t noticed before. That following God was never meant to erase me. It was meant to involve me. Not a filtered version of myself or a perfected version. But the real, unedited version of who I am. My personality. My interests. My thoughts. My struggles. All of it. What if my identity isn’t something I have to set aside to follow God but something I bring with me as I walk with Him? Bringing My Whole Self Into the Journey That changed the way I began to see everything. Instead of trying to abandon parts of myself, I’m learning to bring them before Him. The things I enjoy. The way I think. Even the areas where I feel uncertain or not “good enough.” Because if God created me, then who I am isn’t separate from Him. It’s where He begins His work. Following God isn’t about pretending to be someone you’re not. It’s not about hiding your struggles or forcing yourself into a version of holiness that feels distant and unnatural. It’s a process, a transformation that happens over time, not by removing who you are, but by shaping it. There are days when I slip back into old thinking, where I feel like I need to fix myself first before I can come to God. Days when I question whether I’m doing enough or becoming enough. But I’m starting to understand that growth doesn’t begin with pretending. It begins with honesty. With coming before God as I am and trusting that He knows what to do with every part of me. The strengths, the doubts and the things I’m still figuring out. I don’t have to separate myself from God to discover who I am. And I don’t have to lose myself to follow Him. If anything, it’s in walking with Him that I begin to understand myself more clearly. Not as someone I’m trying to become, but as someone He has already known all along. © 2026 Sabina Kumi. Want more content like this? Explore more articles in Knowing God.

There's a reassuring aspect I want you to see. Have you ever stopped to truly appreciate the beauty of the Psalms and recognize the reassurance within those words? I know I am. I’m currently using a 365-day chronological Bible, and I happened to start in the Psalms. I want to take a moment and show you an amazing aspect about all the Psalms, and to hopefully entice you into exploring this more. Biblical Poetry First, let me start with a little about Biblical poetry. This is a unique form of literature that combines spiritual meaning with the artistry of poetry. The Psalms are a collection of 150 poems that cover a wide range of emotions and experiences. They capture the whole spectrum of our human existence. Reassurance This is a beautiful and reassuring aspect of the Psalms; we see the honesty and raw emotion of the writers when we read them. These writers did not hold back in expressing their true thoughts and feelings to God. Whether they were praising Him or crying out to Him, the writers poured their hearts out in every word. You can find truth, peace, and, honestly, to me, the most important thing is the reassurance. Here we have 150 poems reassuring us that just because we believe does not mean we won’t have struggles and emotional glitches. These writers poured it all in there; they were real, they felt, they hurt, they cried, and they praised. Remember that —  they praised, even during their hardest storms, they were honest and still believed and sought God. Psalms to remember In times of tears, turn to Psalm 42 and 88. When you want a Psalm to give praises to the Lord, go to Psalms 100 and 150. If you are like me and struggle with anxiety, go to Psalms 121. Next time you open your Bible or feel yourself struggling, take a moment to immerse yourself in the reassurance and truth of the Psalms. Let the words wash over you, comfort you, and remind you of the incredible love that God has for every one of us. © Jane Isley

Depression is a part of the human experience, but it isn’t your fault, nor a sin. When life gets overwhelming and the weight of the world seems to be crushing you from the inside out, turning to the Psalms can offer rest and, more importantly, reassurance. I have previously written about this in The Beauty of Psalms. “We will have struggles, emotional glitches, and hot mess express moments where we cry out to God, and that is ok. He is our Mighty Counselor after all.” Depression and Anxiety are real conditions; it is not a sin. You have done nothing wrong. As a person who has dealt with severe depression and still deals with Anxiety, I used to think I was the cause, I had done something wrong, and that I was sinning, and this was a punishment from God. Unfortunately, these are commonly held views by many churches and/or churchgoers still. This is where I got the idea that I was the problem and suffered immensely for years because of it. Well, I’m here again to reassure you that even some of the greatest people in the Bible suffered Depression and Anxiety, and the Lord still wanted them for His work and more assuredly LOVED them despite their conditions and did not blame them for it. Depression and anxiety are medical conditions, just like Diabetes, Asthma, and Arthritis. Don’t let anyone convince you otherwise; if they do, just walk away, find real support from God and others who respect your battle. Also, I want you to take any blame or doubt you may be holding over yourself, and cast it off. Let the Psalms calm, reassure, and hold you close to God. “He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God in whom I trust.” (Psalm 91: 1–2) “Preserve me, O God, for in You I take refuge.” (Psalm 16:1) Whoever clings to me I will deliver; whoever knows my name I will set on high.All who call upon me I will answer; I will be with them in distress. (Psalm 91:14–15) “The Lord is near to the broken-hearted, and saves the contrite of spirit.” (Psalms 34:18) I was already going to tell you, just as the author of the article below suggests. Grab hold of one or two verses, hold on to them tight, and don’t let go. I wanted to provide a list of Bible verses for you to read when you are struggling, and to be able to bookmark it. Emily doesn’t just provide verses; she also tells how Psalms 13 brought her through an enormously hard storm. New Hope Nation, 50 Bible Verses to Help You Find Comfort by Emily Rico. You may also wish to check this 👇 out, where I talk about Paul, who had at the very least an anxiety attack at one point. “Real Christians” shouldn’t experience fear. — Wait. What about Paul, then? First published in Frontier Writers on Medium. © Jane Isley