Faithful Writers

ChatGPT There is a common stereotype that the Bible does not represent women enough, and it barely has any women in it to start with. I once believed this before I followed Jesus, and as I began to read Scripture, I realized it was a complete lie. There are so many powerful stories of women in the Bible, and all of them bring me joy as I read them. Knowing that these women endured in faithfulness during the toughest parts of their lives is a wake-up call to all women that God loves and cherishes us as His own daughters. We are important and worthy to Him. Below, I will share a couple of women from the Bible and the lessons we can learn from them. There are many more that can be covered, so look out for a part 2! Ruth: Ruth is one of the two women in the Bible who has a book named after her. I know that number can seem disappointing to many, but let us not be discouraged by that. In the discourse of things, we know that women are still represented in the Bible, no matter what. If you haven’t read the book, I encourage you to read it. Ruth, a recent widow, leaves everything behind and follows her mother-in-law, Naomi, to Bethlehem after her husband dies. Initially, Naomi refuses to let Ruth follow her, but Ruth responds with the following words: “Wherever you go, I will go; wherever you live, I will live. Your people will be my people, and your God will be my God” (Ruth 1:16–17). How moving is that? After suffering a terrible loss, Ruth refuses to leave her mother-in-law behind, showing her complete loyalty. As Ruth and Naomi settle into Bethlehem, Ruth works in a field to provide for herself and her mother-in-law. Through this loyalty, she earns the respect of a man named Boaz, who turns out to be a distant relative of Naomi. Boaz recognizes her incredible devotion and says, “May the Lord reward you for what you have done. May you have a full reward from the Lord God of Israel, to whom you have come for protection” (Ruth 2:12). Despite her circumstances, Ruth puts her best foot forward. Through this, she captures the attention of a godly man and receives God’s blessings. Eventually, Ruth and Boaz get married, and they have a child named Obed. Obed becomes the Grandfather of David, who is an ancestor to Jesus Himself. Through Ruth’s devotion to the Lord, she was blessed with an equally devoted husband and, many years later, an even more devoted relative. Ruth shows us how pure devotion to the Lord leads to new doors being opened, allowing us to bask in His light. You never know what might happen if you stop following the world and start following Jesus. Deborah: During the chaotic times of the Judges, a prophetess named Deborah served as a judge for the Israelites (Judges 4:4). Deborah would sit under a palm tree, and the people of Israel would listen to her decisions. One day, a military leader named Barak was sent by her, and she told him that he would have victory if he defeated their oppressors. Barak responded with, “I will go if you go with me, but if you don’t go with me, I won’t go either” (Judges 4:8). The amount of faith he had in God was clear, as he completely trusted Deborah’s prophecy. Deborah agreed to his inquiry and fiercely responded with, “All right, I will go with you, but you won’t get any credit for the victory, because the Lord will hand Sisera (Canaanite military commander) over to a woman” (Judges 4:9). (She wasn’t talking about herself; Sisera was killed by another woman named Jael). Afterward, Barak agreed to her command with no hesitation and defeated Sisera’s army. In a time of struggle, Deborah was like a mother to Israel, consulting with and leading its people. She was a beacon of light in the dark time of Judges, sent by God to rescue Israel from oppression. Even though the Israelites had sinned, God still loved His children and welcomed them back to Him through Deborah. Deborah sets an example for women to follow their gifts that the Lord has blessed them with. Deborah was gifted with prophecy, and each of us also has a spiritual gift. It is our job to use it with authority, complete loyalty, and gentleness as she did. The Woman Who Touched Jesus’ Cloak: While unnamed in the Bible, this woman has a powerful impact on Jesus and His ministry. This woman had suffered from severe bleeding for twelve years, which made her ritually unclean and seen as a burden. Can you imagine that? How terrible and painful would that be, along with the judgmental stares of passersby as you deal with your condition? I can’t even imagine the pain that she went through for twelve years! However, through all her pain, this woman still had faith. She had heard about Jesus beforehand and all of the miracles he was performing. Because of this, she believed that He could also heal her. When Jesus was passing nearby to heal a Jewish official’s daughter, she reached out and touched his cloak. “If only I touch his cloak, I will get well” (Matthew 9:21). This woman had such great faith that she believed a single touch of his clothing would heal her. She didn’t even need to speak to Him or see His face; all she needed to do was grab a piece of his cloak. Jesus turned around to her and said, “Courage, my daughter! Your faith has made you well” (Matthew 9:22). At that moment, she was healed of her condition. Her immense faith in Jesus allowed her to be healed, and it also set an example for the citizens surrounding the scene. It can also set an example for sisters in Christ that we must hold firm in our faith and endure. We are His daughters. He has made a place for each of us in Heaven. Therefore, we must trust in Him. Although I only wrote about three of the women in the Bible, there are many more honorable mentions. Esther, the woman at the well, Joanna, Leah, Rachel, Sarah, Jael, Mary Magdalene, Mary, mother of Jesus, Mary, sister of Lazarus (many Marys!), Martha, Rhoda, etc. I could keep going, but I hope you learned something from this article and that it changed your stereotypes about women in the Bible. The enemy loves to make up lies that women aren’t important in Christianity, but they certainly are. Simply reading Scripture itself proves him to be dead wrong. Comment below on a woman of the Bible that you are inspired by and why! I am curious to hear from each of you! © Sienna Krieg

Photo by Joeyy Lee on Unsplash You know, I’ve noticed something, you don’t really hate the mirror. You hate the story it tells you. The one that whispers you’re not enough, that something about you needs fixing before you can be accepted. But here’s the truth: that story didn’t start with your reflection. It started long before you ever looked into the glass. Where the Voice Comes From Look closely and you’ll see that somewhere along the way, you picked up small, heavy messages, maybe from comments that were “just jokes,” from pictures that made you feel less-than, or from people who taught you love had to be earned. You didn’t choose those voices, but they stuck anyway, and now, when you stand in front of the mirror, you’re not really seeing yourself. You’re seeing everyone else’s opinions stacked on your shoulders. The mirror became a battlefield, and you’ve been fighting a war that was never yours to fight. But here’s what the Scripture says instead: “I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Your works are wonderful, I know that full well.” — Psalm 139:14 Your reflection was never meant to measure perfection; it was meant to remind you of divine design. The Mirror Isn’t the Enemy Listen, the mirror only reflects what stands before it. It doesn’t judge, it doesn’t measure, it doesn’t compare. That’s all the noise you’ve learned to bring with you. If I could tell you one thing, it would be this: You are not broken, you’re just tired of seeing yourself through borrowed eyes. And if you can’t love what you see yet, start with respect. Respect that body for showing up every single day. Respect that face for holding in emotions that it never got to express. Respect that person in the mirror for still standing because GOD already called you “ very good.” “God saw all that He had made, and it was very good.” — Genesis 1:31 Learning to See Beyond Appearance Healing your relationship with the mirror isn’t really about pretending to feel beautiful. It’s about learning to see yourself as a whole person — body, mind, and soul. That means forgiving yourself for the harsh things you’ve believed, and allowing room for gentleness to grow where judgment used to live. The world trains us to chase perfection, but you were never meant to be flawless you were meant to be real and real has stretch marks. Real has tired eyes. Real has stories you can’t read in a photo. When Faith Reframes the Reflection If you ever want a healthier mirror, let God hold it, because when He looks at you, He doesn’t see mistakes; He sees meaning. He doesn’t see someone falling short. He sees someone becoming whole. And maybe that’s what the mirror’s been trying to show you all along, not what’s wrong , but what’s still worthy . A Gentle Reminder: You’re more than what you see. The mirror can only show your surface, not your spirit. So today, take one small look, and instead of asking “What’s wrong with me?” try asking, “What’s still growing in me?” © Favour

Maybe you thought faith would fix you, that once you found God, all the cracks in your soul would close, the loneliness would fade, and peace would come easily. You believed that saying yes to Him meant your heart would finally stop aching. But maybe that hasn’t happened. Some mornings, the heaviness still lingers. The prayers feel forced. The peace feels far. You look in the mirror and wonder why healing still feels unfinished. And sometimes that guilt creeps in, because how can you believe in a God who restores, yet still feel undone? The Shame of Still Hurting You’re not alone in that thought. Many people quietly believe that feeling broken means their faith isn’t strong enough. So they try to pray it away, worship it away, or hide it behind smiles and verses. But hiding pain never makes it holy; it only buries it under the weight of shame. Then, somewhere in Scripture, there’s this gentle reminder: “A bruised reed He will not break, and a smoldering wick He will not snuff out.” – Isaiah 42:3 Also, meditate on this: “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” — Psalm 34:18 Let that sink in. God doesn’t throw away what’s bruised; He breathes on what’s barely burning. The God Who Sits With the Broken He’s not waiting for you to be whole before He holds you. He doesn’t turn away from the weak or ashamed. He draws near to the ones barely standing, the ones who whisper prayers between tears. Faith was never about pretending strength. It’s about showing up, trembling but trusting, and believing that He’s still enough. Even when life feels scattered in pieces, He sits right there among them, ever patient, present, and gentle. You’re Broken, But Not Abandoned Feeling broken doesn’t mean your faith has failed. It simply means you’re human, still being shaped, still being loved in process. Maybe that’s where true faith lives: in the raw, unpolished places where grace finally gets to breathe. So stop asking God to erase the cracks, ask Him to fill them with light instead, because every scar you’ve tried to hide can become a space where His love shines through. It’s a quiet proof that healing isn’t about perfection but about presence. And even when you still feel broken, you’re not forgotten. You’re being remade — slowly, softly, and honestly by the One who never stopped calling you His. A Little Note For You This piece is the beginning of a small series I’m creating for anyone who believes but still battles the ache inside. Each continuation will touch another layer of what it means to heal while believing: the waiting involved, the weariness, and also the hope that still rises. If your heart needs space to heal in faith, stay with me. We’ll walk through this, one truth at a time. © Favour

Photo by  krzhck  on  Unsplash I handed him a Raspberry-Lime Spindrift and sat on a bench across from him.  The sun beat down on my too-white-for-August arms and legs.  I closed my eyes and delighted in the warmth, releasing the tense goosebumps from my air-conditioning-chilled body.  Funerals are rarely fun. But funerals are often a time to reflect.  For some reason, the man in the casket, who was here with us living and breathing last week, will never crack open a Spindrift while cracking a joke at the same time.  His days on earth were numbered, and so are mine.  Small talk ensued with my Spindrift Buddy.  Funerals connect us with people we rarely see, an unplanned family reunion of sorts. But not everyone is used to being around me. I speak the way I write.  I am not ashamed of the Gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes. References to God and prayer and thanksgiving easily flow from my tongue, because they are in my mind and in my heart. “From an overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks.” (Luke 6:45)  I actually don’t remember what I said that shifted our friendly conversation, but I do remember my Spindrift Buddy’s response. “When I was a believer, I used to see things the way you see them, but now that I am an unbeliever, I understand things from a different perspective.” I stared at him in awe.  He had somehow flipped the narrative on how I see the world completely upside down, making it appear as if unbelief is the superior side of Christ!  I had grown up without Jesus and became a believer as an adult.  This man had grown up with Jesus and stopped believing as an adult. We each know what it is like to both believe and to reject Jesus as Lord. Only one of us can be right. Intrigued, I began asking questions. If you don’t mind my asking, what led you to stop believing in Jesus? I started reading about other religions and came to realize that all religions are simply man’s attempt to create a fictitious story about what happens to people after they die.  Hindus believe their soul are reborn into a different body.  Muslims believe their soul ends up in Barzakh, awaiting judgment.  Jehovah’s Witnesses believe there is no immortal soul, and the dead person exists in God’s memory to be resurrected, not in heaven, but on earth.  Buddhists believe they are constantly reborn into a different body until they finally reach Nirvana, perfect peace.  Christians can’t figure out what they believe.  Some think you need to complete a bunch of sacraments to go to Heaven.  Others think you need to be baptized.  Still others think you earn brownie points by going to church and performing good deeds.  Others think you need to repent of your sins and accept Jesus as your Lord and Savior to go to Heaven.  There’s no way of knowing which one is right.  I finally realized it’s just a farce, all of them.   So now that you’re on the other side of faith, how do you reconcile eternal questions like, ‘What happens to you after you die?” Nothing happens after you die. Nothing? Nothing. There is nothing after this life. So are we just a collection of molecules, randomly thrown together in such a way that we can think and eat and breathe and deliberately move, but none of it has a purpose? Yes. So if there is nothing after life on this earth, if you do not have an eternal soul, then what is your purpose in life? My purpose in life is to make the most I can with the time I have here.  I want to take care of the earth for future generations.   I don’t understand why we should care about the earth and future generations if there is no purpose to life on earth. We want to leave the earth in good condition so future generations can enjoy what we have been able to enjoy.  For example, I want to be cremated.  We are wasting precious land resources by burying the dead.  If we simply cremate the dead, we don’t need to use up our natural resources. You’re obviously hard-working.  You’re very successful.  You’re an upright citizen.  If there is no purpose to your life, then why are you living like there’s a purpose?  You are adhering to some sort of moral code.  Where did that moral code come from? I just live doing what I think is best.  I work hard.  I treat people fairly.  I don’t know that my morality came from anywhere; it’s just the way I like to live. Don’t you think it’s a gamble?  The Bible says we need to repent of our sins and believe in Jesus as our Lord and Savior, and we will be saved. But you see, I don’t believe in the Bible. But what if you’re wrong?  Does the thought not keep you awake at night?  When your ashes are being spread in the various places you have designated, if you do have an eternal soul, where will it be? If there really is a god, I believe he would look at my life and be pleased and take me to Heaven, if there really were to be such a place. So you would end up in Heaven based on what?  Based on what I think. I went home in a bit of a tizzy, committed to praying daily for my Spindrift Buddy.  Did I say the right things?  Did I speak enough truth into his life?  Did my questions cause him enough discomfort to ignite a spark to send him on a journey of discovery? How can someone think truth into existence? I scanned my bookshelves, attempting to find the perfect book to send to him.  Tim Keller’s  The Reason for God ?  J.I. Packer’s  Knowing God ? Lee Strobel’s  The Case for Christ ?  Any of these would have been wonderful, but I had Amazon send him C.S. Lewis’  Mere Christianity . Why? Because I opened Lewis’ book to chapter 8, ‘The Great Sin’.   “There is one vice of which no man in the world is free…I do not think I have ever heard anyone who was not a Christian accuse himself of this vice… Pride leads to every other vice… It is the complete anti-God state of mind…Whenever we find that our religious life is making us feel that we are good, we may be sure that we are being acted on, not by God, but by the devil.” (Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis) How many in this world are living life like my Spindrift Buddy?  Hard-working, nice, and convinced that if there is a god, they will go to Heaven because they’re good? God’s Word tells us otherwise. “For all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.” (Romans 3:23) “The wages of sin is death.”  (Romans 6:23) “If you confess with your mouth, ‘Jesus is Lord’, and believe in your heart God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved.” (Romans 10:9) “For God so loved the world, he sent his only begotten son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish, but have eternal life.”  (John 3:16) Don’t gamble with eternity.  Repent and believe today. © Tessa Lind First published in Pursuing Perfection on Substack by Tessa Lind, tessalind.substack.com

Photo by Dev Asangbam on Unsplash I know you’ve asked yourself that question more times than you’ll ever admit. In the mirror, after a loss, when someone overlooked you again, when you gave your all, and it still wasn’t enough. It’s a question that haunts achievers and dreamers alike…”Am I enough?” Enough to be loved? Enough to be chosen? Enough to be celebrated? We dress it up with confidence, drown it out with distractions, or bury it beneath work, but it keeps resurfacing. Every time we scroll through someone else’s highlight reel, success suddenly seems to be slow, and we begin to feel unseen. The harsh reality is that that question isn’t innocent. It’s a thief!! It steals your joy, your peace, and your ability to see your own worth. It makes you chase validation that was never meant to define you. The Silent Standard That’s Draining You Our world constantly measures worth in terms of followers, beauty, and wins. You could have ten compliments and still obsess over the one person who didn’t clap. You could be doing better than you were last year and still feel like you’re losing. Why? Because comparison doesn’t let you rest,  it keeps saying, “Do more, be more, prove more.” But no matter how much you achieve, it will always shift the finish line, and it’s like running on a treadmill that never stops until you’re breathless, empty, and wondering why joy feels so far away. You Were Never Supposed to Earn Enoughness Somewhere along the way, we learned to treat worth like a reward… If I succeed, I’m enough. If they love me back, I’m enough. If everything goes right, I’m enough. But being enough was never something to achieve; it was something to accept. Scripture says: “I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Your works are wonderful, I know that full well.” – Psalm 139:14 You were designed in divine confidence. You are already God’s masterpiece and not a mistake that needs constant fixing, but a creation that’s unfolding beautifully in time. “For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus…” – Ephesians 2:10 You don’t need to prove your value to people who only see fragments of your story. Your worth was settled long before anyone had an opinion. You are enough, not because the world says so, but because you were created with intention. Your existence is proof that you were meant to carry light in this world, even if you’re still learning how to shine it. The Moment You Stop Chasing Freedom begins when you stop chasing “enough” and start embracing who you already are. It’s not about pretending everything’s fine; it’s about deciding that your worth isn’t up for debate. You start to walk differently when you stop performing for approval. You start to breathe again when you realize that you’re not behind, you’re becoming. Growth takes time, healing takes time, too, but when we speak of identity? That’s settled. You are already enough. Not a work in progress, trying to qualify, but a soul unfolding into its fullness. A Reminder for Every Time You Forget When the doubt creeps in, remember this: You are not the sum of your likes, your losses, or your lapses. Those don’t do you for a single second You are a story still being written, and so no single moment defines you. You were never meant to be totally perfect; you just need to be present. So today, I need you to stop asking if you’re enough. Start asking if you’re being true. Because when you live from truth, “enough” stops being a question and starts being who you are. If this spoke to you, take a moment today to pause and breathe. You don’t have to earn your worth. You already are enough. Drop a thought in the comments and tell me one truth you’re choosing to believe about yourself again. Take This With You Stop letting the lie of “not enough” run your life. That’s the devil. Stand up and reclaim your voice. You owe it to yourself and to the One who made you to live like you already are what you’ve been chasing. © Favou r

Bing AI Faith often begins where comfort ends, and courage starts when God’s call shakes your certainty. There’s a peculiar stillness that comes right before a decision that matters. You feel it in your chest, a mix of excitement and fear, as if the universe itself is holding its breath. That was how I felt the day God nudged me toward something bigger than myself, a calling I had long admired from afar but never dared pursue. I remember sitting at my old wooden desk, staring at the invitation to step into a ministry I had only dreamed about. My mind ran in circles. “What if I fail? What if I’m not enough? What if this isn’t really God?” Fear whispered louder than faith, and I almost tucked the opportunity back into the safety of routine. But then, in that quiet moment of wrestling, I remembered every small way God had been faithful before: the doors He had opened that I didn’t deserve, the unexpected provision in moments of need, the peace that arrived when I least expected it. Courage, I realized, wasn’t about having no fear, but it was about choosing trust over hesitation. Stepping out didn’t make the fear vanish. My hands trembled, my heart raced, and doubt still lingered like a stubborn shadow. But I moved anyway. I prayed, I sought counsel, and I reminded myself that God equips the called, not the prepared. He doesn’t call the equipped, but equips those he calls. Each step forward felt like a tiny miracle, an invisible hand guiding me through uncertainty, whispering reassurance when my own voice faltered. Looking back, the journey wasn’t just about the external outcome; it was about the transformation within. Courage isn’t the absence of fear; it’s the choice to act and make a move despite it. It’s faith taking a step even when the path is foggy, it’s trusting that God is bigger than our worries, wiser than our plans, and kinder than our doubts. And the beauty of it? God doesn’t just call you for the sake of the task. He calls to grow you, to deepen your faith, to show you His strength made perfect in your weakness. The moment you answer, even with trembling knees and a hesitant heart, you discover that He has been preparing you all along. The courage you thought you lacked was already within you; it just needed the spark of obedience to ignite. If you’re reading this and feel that pull in your soul, the gentle insistence that God is asking more, don’t wait for fear to disappear. Step forward, even if it’s one small step at a time. Trust that the same God who has never left you will not abandon you now. Your courage doesn’t come from bravery alone; it comes from faith, surrender, and the quiet confidence that God’s call is always accompanied by His presence. Now, what step is God asking you to take today, even if it feels uncertain? © Favour

unsplash Time is linear for us. God set it that way from the very beginning for us, days, weeks, years, etc. People live inside those boundaries. But God?He lives outside of them.He is the Author of time, not bound by it. Then God reshaped the way I see prayer. This used to happen often to me, and I think many people can relate.  I’d be scrolling online, where you don’t usually see or hear updates. I’d see a prayer request and stop to lift them up to God. Then I’d notice it was posted a day or so ago, sometimes even longer. I used to feel bad and think that I was too late. I mean, I’d really, really feel bad about it, like I wasn’t there when they needed it the most. Then one random day, it happened again, and I about spiraled myself down that path of feeling bad all over again. The thought in my head was, if I prayed now, what was the point? I was already too late. Now I’ve come to realize satan was using that. God spoke and said, “Not with Me” I’m not gonna lie. That answer actually took me a little to figure out what He meant, but I did eventually figure it out. lol First, no thought you have should ever stop you from praying to begin with. Period.  That was one thing I figured out right quickly. I was letting myself talk myself out of praying, and satan was having a heyday with that. Second, as I said above, God is literally outside of time. He is not bound by our past, present, or future. To Him there is no such thing as too late. Every prayer is a connected one-on-one private moment with Him. Now we may never know the outcome of our prayer, and sometimes we do, but prayer isn’t just for that person or situation. It’s for you to. You don’t build trust, faith, and hope on silent lips.  But you can sure lose it on silent lips. Every prayer is heard at exactly the right moment, for the right reason. When we pray, even if we  think it‘s too late, God receives it outside of our timeline and applies it with His perfect timing and for His glory. So don’t hold back. Don’t second-guess.  Pray anyway. Because with God, every prayer is on time. “But do not let this one fact escape your notice, beloved, that with the Lord one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years like one day.”  2 Peter 3:8 © Jane Isley Thank you for taking the time to read, and please consider  supporting my work . Your gift helps keep this work going, blesses others, and means the world to me. You can visit me at Faithful Writers  on Medium, where other Christian writers have joined me in sharing the word of God. You can also find me on   Tumblr  and   Facebook.

Photo by Tim Wildsmith on Unsplash “Why would God give us four Gospels that don’t even agree?” It’s the kind of question that unsettles new Christians and delights skeptical TikTokers. The Gospels — Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John — tell the same broad story but often differ on the details. One has shepherds, one has wise men. One says two angels at the tomb, another says one. Jesus flips a table at the start in John, but near the end in the others. For some, these variations are proof of error. For others, they’re an embarrassment to be explained away. But what if they’re the very feature we should be paying attention to? The beauty of difference We’ve been trained to want a single, authoritative camera angle. We want one feed. One voice. One perfect version of events. But God gives us four. Four voices. Four angles. Four portraits of Jesus, all telling the truth, but none pretending to tell the whole truth. They overlap, diverge, harmonize, and occasionally jar — not because they’re flawed, but because they’re faithful. Like a set of eyewitness testimonies in court, it’s their very difference that makes them trustworthy. If four people described a public event in exactly the same words, we’d suspect collusion. But if they highlight different moments, different emotions, different meanings — we lean in. That’s how memory works. That’s how life works. And that’s how God chose to reveal his Son. Not a documentary — a declaration The Gospels aren’t security-camera footage. They’re not 21st-century journalism. They’re more like banners, declarations, personal portraits of Jesus for different hearts and histories. Matthew speaks to the Jewish longing for a Messiah, the one who fulfills the law and prophets. Mark writes with breathless urgency, dragging us into a Jesus who disrupts and demands. Luke tells it with compassion and order — a historian’s heart for the poor and outcast. John writes like a poet, pulling back the curtain to show us glory in the flesh. Do they sometimes place the furniture differently? Yes. Do they sometimes rearrange the order of events to make a point? Absolutely. That’s not trickery — it’s theology. Each Gospel is telling the truth on purpose — not flattening it into sameness, but deepening it into multidimensional glory. What if you’re the one who needs all four? Let’s be honest: we don’t read the Gospels that way. We skim. We search for our favorite verse. We memorize the Christmas story from Luke and quote John when we’re evangelizing. But maybe the very differences that bother us are the ones we need most. Because we’re not one-dimensional either. There are days you need the Jesus who weeps. Other days, the Jesus who warns. Some days you’ll identify with the confused disciples. Other days, the bold woman who just touches the edge of his cloak. Each Gospel has a different path into his presence. And taken together, they help us not just know about Jesus — but know him . And what if God wanted it this way? We assume a perfect Bible would be uniform. Seamless. Linear. But maybe God values something else. Maybe truth — the kind that grips the heart and changes a life — needs room to breathe. Maybe God wanted the Gospel to feel less like a script and more like a song: the kind you can’t stop playing because every time you listen, you hear something new. Jesus is not a brand. He’s not a soundbite. He’s not a curated persona. He is the truth made flesh. And the Gospels don’t just describe him — they reveal him. In different voices, different rhythms, different textures — but the same Jesus. This is where devotion begins Devotion isn’t about finding a perfect answer. It’s about lingering in the presence of a perfect Saviour. It’s about returning again and again to the same Gospel stories, not to master them, but to be mastered by the One they reveal. That’s why the Gospels are different. Not to confuse us — but to draw us deeper. Not to test our precision — but to soften our hearts. If you’ve only ever read one Gospel, maybe it’s time to open another. Read them all. Slowly. Side by side. Let them clash a little. Let them correct and complement. You might just see Jesus more clearly than ever. Want help seeing Jesus more clearly, one day at a time? Download a free 3-day sample of Identity in Christ , a devotional designed to help you sit with Scripture and let it speak into your heart. © Nathan Cole

Hey, I’m Favour and I’m faith-filled, always writing about real things like God, growth, and grace. I believe faith isn’t just a Sunday thingy, it’s actually a life, laughter, and the little moments that remind us we’re still held. If my words make you pause, smile, or whisper “same,” then I’ve done my job and I look forward to connecting more and meeting more needs too. FavourWrites Facebook

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash I didn’t grow up in a Christian home. My parents were loving and kind, but I didn’t know Jesus, and I didn’t know the good news of the Gospel. By the grace of God, that began to change in my first year at university. An Unexpected Invitation I still remember standing awkwardly at orientation on day one when a friendly student walked up and invited me to the Christian group on campus. We had a few mutual connections. I thought I had a rough idea of what a “Christian group” might be. It felt harmless to say yes. Why not have a look? What happened next surprised me. They opened the Bible. That might sound obvious, but it wasn’t to me. I had barely seen a Bible, and I’d never read one. Watching a group of students quietly open those thin pages felt strange, almost novel – like stepping into a room I didn’t know existed. No hype. No hard sell. Just words on a page – and people who seemed to care about them. Through the group, I started reading the Bible for myself. I didn’t suddenly understand everything. I asked basic questions. I held my doubts in one hand and the text in the other. But the more I read, the more a single figure came into focus: Jesus. I began to see that Christianity wasn’t mainly about becoming “better” or earning spiritual points. It was about a person and a cross – about what God had done, not what I could do. That realization unsettled me in the best way. When the Cross Stopped Being Abstract As I kept reading, something clearer – and weightier – landed. If the Gospel really is true… If Jesus really did die… If the cross is God’s way of dealing with sin – even mine – then this isn’t a set of ideas to admire from a distance. It demands a response. Not pressure, not panic – just the honesty of facing a gift I couldn’t pay back and a mercy I couldn’t earn. A few months later, at an Easter event on campus, the pieces came together. I believed in Jesus Christ. I accepted that forgiveness of sin is only possible through his cross. And I decided I wanted to follow Him. There wasn’t a spotlight or a dramatic soundtrack. Just a quiet “yes” that felt like the most honest thing I’d ever said. What Changed (and What Didn’t) Not everything became easy. Life didn’t suddenly arrange itself into neat lines. But something essential shifted. I wasn’t standing outside anymore, looking in. I belonged to the One I’d been reading about. The questions didn’t disappear; they became part of a conversation with Someone real. I kept reading the Bible. I learned to pray in plain words. I found myself wanting to know Jesus, not just know about him. Grace turned belief into a path I could actually walk. I never expected to meet Jesus at university. I never expected an invitation in an orientation line to change my direction. But that is the beauty of grace: it meets us before we know how to look for it. If you find yourself where I was – curious, uncertain, a little surprised – open a Bible. Ask your real questions. See what the cross means, not in theory, but for you. I did. And it changed everything. © Nathan Cole Originally published on Medium .