Faithful Writers

Girl With a Pearl Earring , painted by Dutch artist Johannes Vermeer around 1665, is considered one of the most beautiful and priceless masterpieces in history. Now imagine someone taking that canvas and painting right over it, covering the unique brushstrokes, brilliant lighting, and her timeless expression.  The thought alone feels wrong to me. It would ruin everything unique about her and permanently erase the original. You don’t have to be an art lover or collector to know that would be a travesty. When we honor a masterpiece, we respect its story, its meaning, and its history. But when someone paints over it, they aren’t just adding their own “version.” They’re destroying the original and trying to replace it with something that never was. Now, to the point. Why is it that we wouldn’t dare do this to a painting, but so many are quick to hop on board and do this to the Bible? Scripture is being pulled apart, rewritten, and rebranded to suit feelings and modern taste buds. The truth is being stripped away, painted over with new ideas that are often unrecognizable from the original.  At this point, why not just write your own book and leave the Bible alone? If you dislike what it says so much, why attempt to rewrite history as though you can change God’s word and believe He’s going to let you? I’m baffled by it. I think people believe they can sanctify their sins by reshaping Scripture. Deep down, they still want the hope of Heaven, but don’t want to face the parts of God’s word that call for repentance and obedience. Then others use Christianity as a PR stunt, reshaping it for personal or political gain.  Whatever the reason, the result is the same: the truth is distorted, and what remains is no longer Christianity at all. The Bible is not meant to be cut up, relabeled, and stitched back together. That is what is called false teaching.  My faith cannot be rewritten. You can deny it, reject it, or ignore it, but you can’t change it into something it never was. If God’s word confronts you, that’s not a Bible issue; that’s a you issue. You can pander to feelings.  You can normalize sin.  You can try to bend truth into whatever shape makes you most comfortable.  But you can’t change the Bible and expect God to do a 👍🏻 © Jane Isley

The Question That Just Won’t Shut Up Photo by Transly Translation Agency on Unsplash W e’ve all heard the clichés: “ God has a plan, ” “ everything happens for a reason .” But when life actually breaks, those answers feel paper-thin. Let’s take a raw, honest look at why a good God allows suffering — and why the Bible doesn’t give us tidy answers, but something better. This is a question that doesn’t come up in a theology class with neat, certain answers. You know, the class with a whiteboard and bullet points. This is the painful question that shows up in hospice rooms and text messages that start with “I have bad news.” Why does a good God let this happen? You don’t ask that because you’re curious. You ask it because something inside you is crumbling with anguish. This isn’t really a question born from curiosity. It’s more like a scream we turned into words. Let’s Not Pretend the Answers Are Satisfying You’ve probably heard the usuals. Free will. Soul growth. It’s all part of God’s plan. One day it’ll all make sense. Maybe you even believed those at some point. Maybe you still try to. But when your kid’s in the ICU or the MRI scan comes back wrong or the earthquake kills 20,000 people overnight, none of those answers feel like enough. Because they’re not. The Bible Doesn’t Try to Tidy This Up (and neither should we) Here’s something people forget: the Bible doesn’t try to answer this question with a tight little bow either. It gives us Job , whose life collapses. His kids die. His health fails. And his friends try to explain it all away like they’ve got a theological flowchart. Job says, Nope. I didn’t do anything wrong. And — here’s the kicker — God agrees with Job , not the friends. ( Job 42:7 ) So what’s God’s answer to Job’s pain? A storm. Literally. A whirlwind. And basically a very long speech that says, “ This world is way more complicated than you can handle. ” Which is God’s way of saying: You don’t get the answers. You get Me. Courtesy of Lumo Project Films Jesus Doesn’t Explain Suffering — He Joins It If you grew up in church, you probably learned that Jesus died to “pay for our sins.” Fine. But there’s something deeper happening on the cross. Something that doesn’t fit on a Sunday school flannelgraph. Jesus isn’t just fixing a legal problem. He’s showing us what God is like. And what is God like? God bleeds. When Jesus says, “ My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? ” he’s quoting a Psalm ( 22:1 ). But he’s also doing something bigger — he’s giving us a picture of what it feels like when heaven seems to go silent. “Free Will” Only Explains So Much The free will argument gets used a lot. I’ve used to use it too. It seems to make sense, especially for the pain we cause each other — violence, greed, systemic injustice, all of it. But what about the other kind? Earthquakes don’t have free will. Neither does cancer. Or mental illness. At some point, “We chose this” doesn’t hold up. Some suffering just is. People try to bridge the gap with the “soul-making” idea — that God uses suffering to grow us. Yeah. Sometimes, maybe…although not always the things we apply it to. Try saying that to a mother who lost her baby. Or to someone who was abused. Or to someone whose life just never got easier and who dies bitter and alone. You start to see how shallow those slogans are. Maybe the World Isn’t a Blueprint Here’s something I wish more churches said out loud: Maybe this world isn’t tightly managed. Maybe it’s just really messy where God walks with us. Helping us through it. Theologian Greg Boyd has this picture of creation not as a blueprint, but as a battlefield. Not everything happens because God wanted it to. Some things just… happen. (Sounds heretical to the “God is always in control crowd.” But, the battlefield explanation doesn’t mean He’s out of control. Spiritual forces. Human choices. Random chaos. In that view, God isn’t the chess master moving pieces. God is the medic dragging bodies off the battlefield. Bleeding with them. Staying. No man left behind. “God doesn’t cause all things for a reason,” Boyd says.“ But God can bring reason out of all things.” Maybe the World Is Wild on Purpose We’re in a universe built on tectonic plates and cellular mutation and weather patterns that aren’t sentient. This world gives us wine and babies and sunsets — and also earthquakes and cancer and droughts. It’s all one system. Some people see that and say, “How could God make a world like this?” But maybe that’s the only way to have a real world at all. One that breathes, evolves, breaks, and heals. I’m not asking you to “buy” that. Just consider the possibility. Pain doesn’t mean the world is broken. Pain means the world is alive. And God? Still in It. Not Over It. Maybe what we need isn’t an explanation. Maybe what we need is to know that God is still here . Not as an idea. Not as a doctrine. But as someone who still walks into suffering and sits there with you. No escape plan. No platitudes. Just presence. “The cross is not the end,” Richard Rohr says. “It’s the beginning of a new way of seeing.” Faith Isn’t About Explaining Pain It’s about not turning away from it. The Bible doesn’t fix the problem of suffering. It just shows us that God doesn’t run from it . Jesus doesn’t promise we’ll understand it. He just promises we won’t go through it alone. “I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” ( John 16:33 , ESV) It’s not a “cheer up, buddy” kind of thing — it’s more like a command to stand tall when the waves are pounding and your knees are knocking. It’s His way of saying, “I know it looks scary, but I’m here. Don’t let fear write the story.” And So… If you’re carrying pain and wondering where God is in it, I hope this gives you permission to stop pretending everything makes sense. And maybe a little comfort in knowing you don’t have to feel you’re alone. © Gary L Ellis

10 Keys for Recovering the Voice of Scripture Omni Modal AI S cripture isn’t dead. But for many, it feels like it. Somewhere between childhood Bible stories and adult life’s chaos, the words hardened. They stopped surprising us. Familiarity bred distance. And the Book that once stirred something deep now sits still, closed, waiting. It doesn’t have to stay that way. Scripture can breathe again — not with magic, but with honesty. Not through force, but with permission. Here’s how. 1. Put Down the Performance For many of us, Scripture became a tool for being “good.” Read your Bible, pray, go to church — repeat. But what if we stop treating it like a test or task? What if we drop the performance? Progressive pastor and writer Nadia Bolz-Weber puts it like this: “The Bible is not an answer book. It’s a conversation starter.” Instead of asking, What does this verse tell me to do? try asking, What does this stir in me? Or even, What questions does this raise that I’ve been afraid to ask? Let Scripture start the conversation, not end it. 2. Read Slower. Much Slower. Speed kills intimacy. Rushing through Scripture is like skimming a love letter for grammar. You miss the heart. Try this: take one verse. Read it out loud. Sit with it. Ask it questions. Let it bother you. Let it comfort you. Write down what catches your attention — even if it doesn’t make sense right away. Lectio Divina, an ancient Christian practice, invites us into this kind of slow reading. It’s not about analyzing. It’s about listening. 3. Let Go of Certainty We were taught to find “the meaning.” One meaning. The correct interpretation. But Scripture is full of contradiction, mystery, and tension — not because it’s broken, but because it’s honest. Progressive theologian Rachel Held Evans wrote: “The Bible isn’t a flat, one-dimensional book. It’s a living, breathing, ancient library.” Let the contradictions speak. Let the paradox sit in the room with you. Scripture isn’t broken because it doesn’t always make sense. It’s human. It’s divine. It’s both. 4. Reclaim the Human Element We forget sometimes — the Bible was written by people. Real people. With fears, flaws, and agendas. Prophets, poets, exiles, rebels, mystics. When you read Scripture, you’re eavesdropping on voices from centuries ago. And they weren’t just writing doctrine. They were lamenting. Celebrating. Arguing with God. Crying out. Instead of trying to “figure out” what God is saying in every line, try asking: What is the human struggle behind these words? Scripture breathes when we stop polishing it and start honoring the raw. 5. Bring Your Whole Self to the Page Don’t leave your questions at the door. Don’t check your pain, your anger, or your joy. Bring it all. You don’t need to be in a “spiritual” mood to engage the Bible . You just need to show up. Tired, distracted, doubting — that’s all welcome. Author Brian McLaren encourages this kind of honest engagement: “Doubt isn’t the opposite of faith. It’s often where faith begins.” When you bring your real self, Scripture becomes a mirror — not a filter. 6. Use Different Translations The King James Bible may be poetic, but it’s not the only voice in the room. Try reading a passage in The Message or the New Living Translation. Use side-by-side versions. Different wording wakes up the text . What felt rigid in one translation may feel alive in another. And don’t be afraid to read the paraphrased versions. Sometimes Eugene Peterson’s paraphrasing in The Message is what it takes to cut through our spiritual autopilot. It can be the same with Brian Simmons’ The Passion Translation. 7. Read Outside the Lines Let other voices guide you. Not just commentaries, but poets, essayists, pastors, doubters, mystics. People who wrestle and question. People who bleed and laugh. Read the words of people from different cultures, generations, and walks of life. If the only voices you hear are ones like yours — the echo chamber — Scripture will stay boxed in. Progressive Christian voices like Cole Arthur Riley ( This Here Flesh ), Richard Rohr ( Falling Upward ), and Barbara Brown Taylor ( An Altar in the World ) offer ways of seeing Scripture that feel like breathing new air. 8. Make Peace with Not Knowing Some texts are hard. Violent. Confusing. And some days, Scripture may do nothing for you. That’s okay. Let it be. Let it lie dormant. Let it sit beside you in silence. You don’t need to crack the code. You don’t need to make it relevant. Sometimes letting Scripture breathe means letting it be more than you can control at the moment. If it’s become toxic, let it sit until it isn’t. 9. Read in Community Scripture wasn’t meant to be read in isolation. It came alive in gatherings — around fires, in homes, among the grieving and the hopeful. Find a group. Not one where everyone agrees — but one where people listen well, speak with care, and aren’t afraid of the hard stuff. When someone else shares what they see in a passage, it stretches your view. It reminds you the Spirit isn’t limited to your interpretation. 10. Let Scripture Shape You, Not Shame You Many of us carry wounds from Scripture being used as a weapon. Verses cherry-picked to shame, control, or exclude. But Scripture, when allowed to breathe, doesn’t shame. It calls. It invites. It opens up space for love to move. Progressive pastor Rob Bell once said: “The Bible is not a static, dead book. It’s a conversation that’s been going on for thousands of years. And you’re invited to join in.” Let it shape you — not into someone else’s image of faith, but into the person you’re already becoming. The Takeaway Letting Scripture breathe again isn’t about getting back to something old. It’s about starting fresh. It’s about giving up control and letting the words speak again — even if they whisper, even if they surprise you. You don’t have to feel holy. You don’t have to be certain. You just have to show up. Let Scripture be a companion. Let it breathe. And breathe with it. © Gary L Ellis

Contemplating the 3 men thrown into the blazing furnace and how it applies to us now. Lately, I've been thinking about three people: Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah, or better known as Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego from the book of Daniel. As spring planting is approaching, I have been outside a lot, and even though my body is busy, my mind is still, and I use that time to talk to God and think on His word. Recently, it has been this story on my mind almost constantly. The more I reflect on their story, the more I see how it applies to today's world. This isn’t a story meant to stay in the distant past, but should be brought forward to the here and now.  Christians are battling the threat of blazing furnaces every day. Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego could have bowed down and worshipped that golden statue and saved themselves that day, but they didn’t. They chose God because they were faithful, steadfast and didn’t give a crap what others were doing around them. One thing I absolutely love about the Bible is that one story can have multiple meanings just waiting to be extracted when one takes the time to think on and contemplate a story, verse, or a person in the Bible. That’s when we begin to see more of how it applies to us, in the here and right now. I guess I’ll have to do this in a bit of a bullet-ish point situation, or I’ll be all over the place. “Blazing furnace” — “lake of fire” I love me some good symbolism. I never put two and two together before until contemplating their story. Their bodies weren’t on the line, their salvation was on the line. Yet they refused to bow down to anyone but God, even with their lives threatened. Losing their salvation, their place in Heaven, was not worth any temporary threat they received in this world. Jesus showed Himself.  Because they were faithful and trusting, Jesus was there. But He didn’t march in on a sparkly white steed, or with an imposing army. Nope, He was just there, standing beside them, quiet, just letting His glorious presence be seen.  How often do we forget Jesus will do this? Or better, how often do we not recognize when He’s doing this? God will show Himself to those around us through our actions. I call it “shine,” meaning — I stand out because I am faithful. His presence just sorta of oozes out of me, and people see this, whether they realize what they are seeing or not, they just know something is different. It’s also why you may rub people the wrong way. They feel the Holy Spirit, and that makes them uncomfortable and sometimes angry. When bumping up against God, people get uncomfortable because they are feeling their sin. They are feeling what is right, but internally they are fighting it with everything they have to continue with the life they are leading. Just look at how Nebuchadnezzar reacted: “ Furious with rage ” There were three of them. Community. Now, yes, we don’t always have people around us 24/7, but this is an example of support and why it is important to be in a community of friendship with other believers. We are made to connect not just with God but with others, we need this; this is a part of our being. Yes, we absolutely can stand on our own with God, but we also need to be a part of a group. This is emphasized in the Bible for a reason. "King Nebuchadnezzar, we do not need to defend ourselves before you in this matter. If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it, and he will deliver us from Your Majesty’s hand. But even if he does not, we want you to know, Your Majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up.” Powerful, trusting, and faithful words.  It took me a lot of storms, practicing faith, and intentionally remembering all the fires God either put out for me or stood next to me during to get to this point in my life where I can say, “But even if he does not.”  I have surrendered my wishes to God’s will, no matter where it takes me or the result. Because death is not the end, it is just the beginning, and if I can make a difference in even just one life by standing my ground on His foundation for others to see, then it is worth any temporary pain.  Every day is the threat of a blazing furnace to us, even more so than ever before. Around every corner — in every phone, across seas of pews, workplaces, every reel, every political agenda, friendships, and family dynamics. For every comprise you make, for every time the Bible is altered a wee bit to make it sweeter, for every time you don’t stand your ground out of fear or laziness, you edge yourself closer to throwing yourself in that furnace.  We are not here to compromise our faith, even a little, to make others happy. We are here to stand our ground in His foundation and spread His word.  Our salvation is on the line every time we edge closer to that furnace.  When you take your stand and hold true to His teachings and laws, remember He is right there with you during any flames someone may throw at you.  © Jane Isley If you enjoy my work and it has inspired a reevaluation of Scripture and a closer relationship with God, please consider  supporting my work . You can visit me at   Faithful Writers  on Medium.   You can also visit me on  Tumblr .

You know those Christians who are really good at being Christians but really bad at being humans? They know every Bible verse about holiness, but can’t have a normal conversation with their coworker who drinks. They post Scripture about love while judging their neighbor’s lifestyle choices. They attend every church service but can’t be bothered to learn their actual neighbor’s name. They’re so focused on being “set apart” that they’ve forgotten how to be present. So committed to avoiding worldly influence that they’ve lost all worldly relevance. These Christians aren’t bad people. They’re often sincere, devoted believers who genuinely want to honor God. But somewhere along the way, they confused biblical holiness with social isolation. They started believing that the best way to influence culture is to avoid it entirely. The result? They’ve become exactly the kind of people Jesus spent His ministry criticizing. “Separate and Holy”….While Killing Christian Credibility If we’re honest with ourselves, our churches have often taught us this through their actions: “The more separated you are from worldly people, the more holy you are.” What a load of rubbish. This toxic teaching suggests that spiritual maturity is measured by how little you associate with sinners. It implies that good Christians create walls between themselves and anyone who doesn’t share their faith or lifestyle choices. Churches reinforce this by creating Christian bubbles where believers only socialize with other believers, only shop at Christian businesses, only consume Christian media, and only send their kids to Christian schools. The goal becomes building a holy fortress where you can be spiritual without being contaminated by the world. I’m as guilty as the next Pharisee when it comes to this. When I first got saved, in the months after, I cut off so many people, burned so many bridges, and honestly just did the most in my search for purity. Now, some were indeed needed, but I can without a doubt say that I did go overboard with it. But this approach has a massive theological problem: Jesus did the exact opposite. What Jesus Actually Did With Sinners Jesus didn’t avoid sinners. He sought them out. He didn’t just tolerate their presence. He enjoyed their company. He didn’t lecture them about their lifestyle choices. He loved them as they were. Jesus ate with tax collectors. These were people who betrayed their own countrymen for profit. They were considered traitors and thieves. And Jesus chose to have dinner with them regularly. Jesus befriended prostitutes. He didn’t condemn their profession or demand they change before He would associate with them. He defended them against religious leaders and showed them dignity. Jesus hung out with drunkards. So much so that the Pharisees accused Him of being a drunkard Himself. His reputation was damaged by the company He kept, and He didn’t care. Jesus attended parties thrown by sinners. He didn’t just show up for evangelism purposes. He celebrated with people whose lifestyles violated religious standards. The religious leaders were scandalized. They couldn’t understand how someone claiming to represent God could be so casual about hanging around people who clearly didn’t represent God. Sound familiar? Why Modern Christians Avoid What Jesus Embraced Fear of contamination. Many Christians believe that spending time with non-believers will somehow pollute their faith or tempt them into sin. They treat faith like it’s fragile instead of transformative. Fear of appearance. Christians worry about what other believers will think if they’re seen associating with the “wrong” people. They prioritize religious reputation over relational ministry. Fear of compromise. They assume that loving sinners means approving of sin. They can’t distinguish between accepting people and endorsing behavior. Comfort in Christian culture. It’s easier to stay in environments where everyone shares your values, speaks your language, and validates your beliefs. Engaging with different people requires emotional energy and intellectual flexibility. Misunderstanding of holiness. They think holiness means moral purity achieved through isolation. They don’t realize that biblical holiness is moral purity maintained through engagement with the Holy Spirit. The Pharisee Problem in Modern Christianity The Pharisees were the “good Christians” of Jesus’ day. They were theologically correct, morally upright, and religiously committed. They knew Scripture, followed rules, and maintained high standards. They were also Jesus’ biggest critics. Because they had turned faith into a performance designed to impress God and other religious people. They had created a system where spiritual success was measured by moral superiority and social separation. Sound familiar? Modern Christianity has a Pharisee problem. We’ve created a culture where being a “good Christian” often means: Avoiding certain people rather than loving difficult people Judging cultural trends rather than understanding cultural needs Maintaining religious traditions rather than building authentic relationships Protecting church reputation rather than serving community needs Creating Christian alternatives rather than engaging secular spaces We’ve become so committed to being right that we’ve forgotten how to be loving. What Jesus Actually Said About Being In The World “I do not pray that you take them out of the world, but that you keep them from evil” (John 17:15). Jesus specifically asked God NOT to remove Christians from the world. He wanted His followers engaged with the world while being protected from its corrupting influence. “You are the salt of the earth… You are the light of the world” (Matthew 5:13–14). Salt only works when it’s mixed into food. Light only matters when it’s shining in darkness. Both metaphors require proximity and engagement, not separation and isolation. “Go into all the world and preach the gospel” (Mark 16:15). The Great Commission wasn’t “Wait for the world to come to church.” It was “Go where the world already is.” Jesus’ model was incarnational, not isolational. God didn’t save the world by staying in heaven and demanding that people come to Him. He came to earth and lived among the people He wanted to reach. How Good Christians Become Terrible Neighbors They prioritize theological correctness over relational connection. They’re more concerned with having the right beliefs than building genuine friendships. They judge lifestyle choices instead of addressing real needs. They notice what people do wrong more than they notice what people need. They offer religious solutions to practical problems. Instead of helping with tangible needs, they immediately jump to spiritual advice that feels irrelevant or judgmental. They treat relationships as evangelism projects. Every interaction has an agenda. They can’t just be friends without trying to convert. They withdraw when people don’t respond to their message. If neighbors aren’t interested in church or spiritual conversations, these Christians often distance themselves instead of maintaining the relationship . They create an “us vs. them” mentality. They talk about “the world” like it’s enemy territory instead of a mission field filled with people God loves. What Jesus-Style Neighboring Actually Looks Like Be genuinely interested in people’s lives without having an agenda. Ask about their work, their family, and their interests. Care about what they care about. Meet practical needs before addressing spiritual needs. Help with moving, babysit their kids, bring food during illness, and offer assistance during emergencies. Participate in community activities without requiring Christian alternatives. Attend neighborhood events, join community groups, and engage with local issues. Build friendships that aren’t dependent on shared beliefs. Enjoy people for who they are, not for their potential to become Christians. Defend people when they’re being judged by other Christians. Be the Christian who speaks up for the neighbor others are criticizing . Live in a way that makes people curious about your peace and joy. Let your different lifestyle attract questions rather than create barriers. Love consistently, whether people are interested in faith or not. Your kindness shouldn’t be contingent on their spiritual openness. The Revolutionary Idea That Christians Are FOR People Here’s what non-Christians need to experience from Christians: unconditional love from people who don’t need anything from them. Most people assume Christians are nice to them because they want to convert them. They expect the relationship to change if they show no interest in faith. But what if Christians loved their neighbors so genuinely that their love remained constant regardless of spiritual response? What if Christians became known as the people you could count on during a crisis, whether you believed like them or not? What if Christians were the first people you thought of when you needed help, because you knew they would help without lecturing you? What if Christians were so genuinely interested in your life that you felt valued as a person, not as a conversion project? This kind of love is revolutionary. It’s also exactly what Jesus demonstrated. Your Neighborhood Is Your Mission Field Stop waiting for your neighbors to come to church. Start going to your neighbors. Stop judging their lifestyle choices. Start serving their practical needs. Stop avoiding them because they’re different. Start learning from them because they’re different. Stop trying to fix their spiritual problems. Start being present in their real problems. Good Christians don’t make terrible neighbors because they care too much about faith. They make terrible neighbors because they care too little about people. But when Christians love their neighbors the way Jesus loved sinners, something amazing happens. People start asking questions about the source of that love. They become curious about a faith that produces such genuine care. They stop seeing Christianity as a judgment system and start seeing it as a love system. And that’s when real evangelism happens. Not through arguments or invitations, but through relationships. Not by being separate from the world, but by being different within the world. Your neighbors don’t need you to be a better Christian. They need you to be a better human. The kind of human Jesus was when He walked among people who desperately needed to know they were loved. How would your relationship with your neighbors change if you approached them the way Jesus approached sinners? What practical needs could you meet without expecting anything spiritual in return? © Ashneil

When your brain agrees with Jesus but your feet still walk the other way “We can know what we’re supposed to do. We can want to do it. But none of that matters if we don’t actually do it.” — Brené Brown I’m not writing this because I’ve figured it out. I’m writing it because I haven’t. Because this morning I ignored a nudge to send a kind text. Because last week I snapped at someone and never said sorry. Because I know better. And I still don’t always do better. But I want to. Not to earn anything. Just to live like the person I say I am. So yeah. Knowing’s the easy part. But the doing — that’s where the rubber meets the soul. It’s like your brain is nodding yes, but your feet? They’re walking in the other direction. Am I the only one? I doubt it. But, there is hope. Happens all the time. Now, I’m not talking about some big, villainous, “destroy the world” kind of way. I mean the quiet stuff. The daily stuff. The kind of right thing that no one will notice if you don’t do it — but you’ll know. So why don’t we do it? I don’t know. Or maybe I do and I just don’t want to admit it. Sometimes I’m scared. Sometimes I’m tired. Sometimes I don’t want to deal with the fallout. Sometimes I just flat-out don’t feel like being the bigger person. It feels like too much work to be wise and kind and brave all in the same breath. It’s so much easier to scroll. Give them of piece of your mind. Or just shut down. [Just be careful how many pieces of your mind you give away. You need what you’ve got]. There’s a kind of comfort in delay, right? Like, “I’ll apologize later,” or “I’ll do that thing when I’m more rested,” or “I just need to pray about it a little longer.” Which is often code for I don’t wanna …or gonna. We get good at dressing up hesitation like it’s discernment. Knowing doesn’t cost much. Doing does. I’ve sat through enough church services to know what Jesus said about loving people, forgiving enemies, helping the least of these. That’s not the problem. I know. You know. Most of us know . But doing it? Especially when you’re smack in the middle of a political culture that’s driving at breakneck speed the other way. When should you allow it to form you. Isn’t that Paul’s instruction the Romans to not be pressed into the worlds mold? Sometimes, doing the right thing means stopping mid-argument and saying, “You’re right.” It means giving up the need to win. Or walking across the room when you’d rather stay in your little safe corner. Honestly, sometimes I think I’d rather write a ten-page essay on the ethics of forgiveness than actually forgive someone who hurt me. How about you? Now, don’t misunderstand. You can forgive and still not let the offender breathe your airspace . Restoration is a whole different ball of wax from forgiveness. So what helps? Nothing magic. Just practice. And grace. And being okay with screwing it up sometimes. In other words, I’m not saying you should ignore not doing the right thing. I’m saying to not beat yourself up over it. That will never get you closer. I also think it helps to stop waiting to feel like doing the right thing. Because that moment? It’s flaky. Some days it doesn’t come. But doing it anyway, even when the feelings lag behind, kind of begins rewires something in you . Makes it easier next time. And sometimes, honestly, I think we’ve overcomplicated obedience. We’ve spiritualized it, theologized it, overanalyzed it until it’s this giant mountain no one wants to climb . But maybe it’s just — showing up…or shutting up. Instead, using our mouths to say the humble thing. After all, isn’t that one of the Lord’s requirements? “…to act justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with God.” (Micah 6:8) Owning your part. Letting someone else go first. It’s not flashy. It doesn’t get applause. But it’s real. Seven specifics I’ve found helpful You might want to try these on for size. 1. Make it small enough to actually do If the right thing feels big and overwhelming, your brain will do gymnastics to avoid it. Break it down. Instead of: “I need to reconcile with my brother.” Try: “I’ll text him a simple, honest check-in. No speeches. Just a start.” Small steps lower the resistance. 2. Set a simple time frame Don’t wait for “when you feel ready.” You probably won’t. Try this:“Within the next 10 minutes, I will…”Or“Before lunch, I’ll…”When the timing is vague, the action stays imaginary. 3. Visualize the outcome Seriously. It may sound to “woke,” but it helps. Picture what it’ll feel like to have done the right thing. That sense of peace. That deep breath. That weight off your chest. Your brain sometimes needs a reason to push through the discomfort. Show it what’s on the other side. 4. Lower the emotional temperature When you’re hot with emotion — angry, hurt, anxious — it’s ten times harder to act with integrity. Pause. Take a walk. Write an angry note and delete it. Breathe. Then do the thing from a clearer, calmer place. 5. Tie it to your identity Remind yourself: “I’m someone who does hard things. I’m someone who tells the truth. I’m someone who shows up, even if things have gone sideways.” When the action lines up with who you want to be, it gets easier to follow through. 6. Give yourself permission to do it badly Perfectionism is a master procrastinator. You don’t need to do it perfectly. You just need to do it honestly. Your apology doesn’t have to be poetic.Your kindness doesn’t need a filter or a hashtag. It just needs to be real. But, what if they don’t accept my apology? They might not. But they might. But, in the long run, it doesn’t matter if they accept it or not. You’ve done what’s right and that’s what matters. 7. Don’t forget your power source. Human effort isn’t enough. As Paul said, “I can do all things through Christ Who give me strength.” He also said, “Who will deliver me from this body of death?” (Romans 7:24) He then says in verse :25, “Thanks be to God by means of Jesus Christ.” In John 16, Jesus says He’s sending the Holy Spirit to be our Helper. He wants to help us with anything and everything that concerns and confronts our daily lives. © Gary L Ellis

I like to call them “fly-over chapters”. Maybe you have heard the expression referring to some American States. “Flyover states” describe the central regions of the United States that people typically fly over when traveling between the East and West Coasts, such as between New York and Los Angeles. These states are viewed as less significant culturally or economically by coastal elites. In other words: boring. Fly-over Bible chapters are the same. We start them, see there is a genealogy, and quickly lose interest, skipping to the next chapter. The action of the Bible is compelling. It’s sexy. Digging deep into the Word to find profound spiritual truths in genealogies is not. I wonder how many Bible readers skip the first nine chapters of 1 Chronicles to get to the death of King Saul in chapter 10. How many Christians blow through the genealogy of Jesus to get to the astonishing miracles? When I was new at Bible study, I would sometimes ask, “Why is that even in there?” and skip it. Now I ask God, “ Why is that even in there? Show me.” And He does. Numbers 33 is the story of your life. It starts this way: “These are the camping sites in the journey of the People of Israel after they left Egypt, deployed militarily under the command of Moses and Aaron. Under God’s instruction, Moses kept a log of every time they moved, camp by camp:” Vs 1–2 And then the chapter goes on to list all forty-two places the Hebrews stopped in their 40-year pilgrimage. Why? It states that God instructed Moses to list them all. What does God have in mind by making sure we know about every stop in the journey of His chosen people? Nothing in the Bible is wasted. Nothing is meaningless. There must be something in Numbers 33 for us now, today. If you Google the name of each place listed, most of them don’t even exist anymore. Some Bible scholars will speculate. But there are no archaeological ruins to pinpoint exact locations. Some of the names have changed. And many stops were in desolate, nomadic regions that leave little trace. Of the forty-two locations mentioned, only five can be identified on a map. Ten to fifteen of them have a strong traditional or historical case for the location. With at least twenty, we have no idea. Ramses, Succoth, and Nebo can be visited today. Hashmonah and Tahath, not so much. The Secret Must Be in the Math. There were fourteen stops in the first year alone after leaving Egypt. And there were eight stops in the last year after Aaron’s death. They were heading to Canaan. However, for most of their 38-year lives, they made twenty different stops. Each stop was different. Each one had challenges and joys. There were new neighbors, different views, and each could be considered a fresh start. God always provided for them. There was daily manna and water. They were covered by a cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night. Their clothes didn’t wear out. They had everything they needed. Living in twenty separate places in thirty-eight years meant there were no deep roots to lay down. Although two years is a long time to stay at a place, it was still temporary. They weren’t to be established there. They were on a journey. The deep roots would come when they reached their promised land. Canaan was destined to be the place where they could have lasting rest. The other stops were a part of a narrative of their lives. Did they ever sit around a campfire, reminiscing about their time at certain stops? Some places had ample wood. Others took arduous work to keep the family going. Did an aging Grampa recount the story about giving the Amalekites a serious beat-down at Rephidim to the young kids? How did they remember the golden calf? Or try to describe the day the earth swallowed Korah and family? Could they still hear the screams in their mind? Maybe That’s What God Is Showing Us in This Fly-Over Chapter. What if it is not a list of strange places? But the story of us. What if we are on a journey to a promised place of rest and peace? And with each stop in our lives, in each chapter, we have been led there for a reason. It was beautiful, but it was temporary. God doesn’t want to read about our birth, skip to the day Jesus became real to us, and then skip again to the day we joined Him in heaven. No, those Elementary School years, the dating tears, that failed business, being Angelically saved in a car wreck, the bad, the good, the rebellion, the promotion, and the bankruptcy are all important to Him. Because they are all stops in our Exodus through this age. Each experience is necessary. Every tear is important enough to be saved. “You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book.” Psalm 56:8 Will God Fly Over Our Story at the Judgment? Imagine the scenario as recorded by John in Revelation: “I saw the dead, both great and small, standing before God’s throne. And the books were opened, including the Book of Life. And the dead were judged according to what they had done, as recorded in the books.” 20:12 Will God say: “Yeah, yeah, yeah, skip all that and cut to the good parts.” Nope! He knows the number of hairs on our head (Luke 12:7) , and all our days were planned before we were born (Psalm 39:4) . Each chapter of our lives is methodically woven into a tapestry of joy and sorrow, pain and pleasure, love and loneliness, freedom and bondage, lack and abundance, stress and peace… and ALL of them are important . They are a part of our story. They are a name in a list of a chapter called “Life”. Next time you come across a scripture like Numbers 33:24, “They left Mount Shepher and camped at Haradah ,” pause for a second. Don’t just fly over it. It’s important. They left a beautiful mountain to camp at a place called “Fear” before they headed to the next beautiful mountain. I would love to know more about that stop. Because we have all had seasons in a valley of fear before we headed to the safety of the next mountain. Wherever you are camped today, it is temporary. Stand firm. Rejoice always. Endure. Appreciate. Conquer. Love fiercely. Pray. Sing. Share. Believe. Help your fellow life campers. Because where you are, what you are doing, what you see, and who you are with is temporary. And when the cloud or pillar of fire moves, it’s time to go to your next assignment. You have a long chapter left to be written. Enjoy the trip. © I.M. Koen Thank you for reading to the end. You might also enjoy: Why God Eavesdrops on You. Why Did God Choose Me? I’m Broken. Does Your God Stoop? May God sing songs of love over you as you sleep. -Issachar

Devoted Christian and passionate writer on Apologetics. Jesus saved my life—now I write to share why He matters. I hope to help others gain a deeper understanding of Christianity.  I also enjoy building websites—one of my favorites is a stamp-collecting site I created for my husband, gourmetphilatelist.org . Medium