Sierra is a recent Graphic Design and Interactive Media graduate from the University of Wisconsin-Stout. During her time at Stout, she came to Christ and is now following Him wholeheartedly. Sierra has always had a passion for anything creative, especially when it comes to writing and photography. She is hoping that her creative outlets can make an impact on others and bring them closer to God. When she’s not doing something creative, you can find her reading, spending time with friends (and her cat), or exploring God’s creation. Sierra Loew Want to read more from Sierra? Here are a few places to start: Steadfast Warrior: Standing Bold in Spiritual Warfare Growing Closer to God Without Understanding Everything God Makes Fantastic Lemonade!

Does God Really Give You More Than You Can Handle? Let’s just start here: A whole lot of what we think is in the Bible…isn’t. We’ve been quoting things in church for so long that we just assume they came straight from the mouth of Jesus. If it’s been printed on enough coffee mugs or said with enough emotion from the pulpit, it must be gospel truth, right? Wrong. We’ve misquoted Jesus. We’ve misused Scripture. And one of the most common phrases we toss around like a spiritual Band-Aid is this one: “God will never give you more than you can handle.” You’ve probably heard that more times than you can count. It’s spoken like a promise when someone’s facing a job loss, divorce, depression, or devastating grief. It sounds comforting… until life actually does give you more than you can handle. And you’re left wondering, “What’s wrong with me?” But here’s the thing: Jesus never said that. Not once. Wait. So Where Did That Phrase Come From? Most folks assume it came from Jesus because, well, it sounds biblical. But it’s actually a twisted paraphrase of something Paul wrote in 1 Corinthians 10:13:“God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can endure it.” Key word? Tempted. This verse is about resisting sin, not surviving suffering. It’s about not being overwhelmed by temptation, not about carrying the crushing weight of grief, pain, or trauma. Big difference. But somewhere along the way, we mashed those ideas together and made them into a fortune cookie version of the gospel. A gospel where strength is self-powered and God is more like a cheerleader than a Savior. Here’s What Jesus Actually Said Jesus was brutally honest about suffering. He never sugar coated it. “In this world, you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”~ John 16:33 That right there? That’s Jesus telling the truth. He didn’t say, “You’re strong enough to handle this.” He said, “I’m strong enough.” He didn’t promise an easy path. He promised his presence in the mess. Why This Misquote Is Dangerous When we tell hurting people, “God won’t give you more than you can handle,” we load them up with guilt. Because guess what? Sometimes life does give you more than you can handle. Depression that won’t lift. A child you can’t save. A betrayal that guts you. A diagnosis that upends everything. If we believe the lie that we’re supposed to be strong enough on our own, we end up crushed under the weight of spiritual performance anxiety. We think we’ve failed God. We wonder if we’re weak or broken or just not faithful enough. But the gospel was never about what we can handle. It was always about what He can handle (and has handled) for us, with us, in us. Let’s Talk About Some Other Things Jesus Never Said While we’re clearing the air, here are a few more well-loved misquotes people slap Jesus’ name on: “God helps those who help themselves.” That’s not in the Bible. At all. Benjamin Franklin said that, not Jesus. Scripture actually teaches the opposite: God helps those who know they need help. “Money is the root of all evil.” Nope. What Paul actually wrote was: “The love of money is a root of all kinds of evil.” (1 Timothy 6:10) See the difference? It’s not money, it’s misplaced love. “Hate the sin, love the sinner.” Jesus didn’t say that either. While it reflects a principle of compassion, it’s not a direct quote. And frankly, it often becomes an excuse to judge people while pretending we’re being holy. So How Did We Get So Off-Track? The Bible wasn’t written in English. It came to us through Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek. And somewhere between ancient manuscripts, medieval Latin, modern translations, and Sunday school summaries, things got messy. Add in human error, church traditions, sermon shortcuts, and pop theology. And you end up with a handful of phrases Jesus never said… but a whole lot of people believe he did. It’s not always intentional. Sometimes it’s just easier to quote what we heard than dig into what was actually said. But when we misquote Jesus, we risk misrepresenting his heart. So What’s the Better Truth? The truth is: God will allow things you can’t handle. Not because He wants you to break, but because He wants you to stop pretending you’re your own Savior. We were never meant to live independent of Him. The weight of the world isn’t yours to carry solo. Jesus didn’t die and rise again just to cheer you on from the sidelines. He came to be your strength. Paul said it like this in 2 Corinthians 1:8–9: “We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure… But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God.” That’s the gospel. Not “You’ve got this.” But “He’s got you.” One Final Thought If you’re hanging by a thread, barely making it through the day, and someone tells you, “God won’t give you more than you can handle,” you have permission to say, “That’s not true.” Because it’s not about how much you can handle. It’s about how much He already did. Takeaway Truth: Jesus never said life would be manageable. He said He would be with us in the unmanageable. That’s a much better promise. And it’s actually true. Faith = Trusting the process not promise (in the way you think they should mean). © 2026 Gary L Ellis (1944–2026) When Life Takes Everything: Trusting God Through Loss Rina Schultz writes with raw honesty about losing nearly everything and learning to trust God when the promises that once felt solid start to feel distant. A real look at what faith costs, and what it holds onto. What Falling Sparrows Teach Us About Trusting God A short, striking reflection on Matthew 10:29 and what it really means that God knows when a sparrow falls. Sovereignty, it turns out, isn't a guarantee against falling. It's a promise of being known. Press Ctrl + P (Windows) or Cmd + P (Mac) to print this article or save it as a PDF.

It was past midnight, I was lying with my daughter in her bed, holding her in a way so I could move quickly and use my back to shield her if any strikes would come. He kept coming in and out, growing more agitated with each time. I prayed I wouldn’t give myself away. Sometimes, when he came in, he would whisper in my ear what he wanted to do to me. I could smell the faint scent of liquor grow stronger each time he whispered, and at other times, he would stand over me watching, breathing as though he had run a marathon. I still don’t know to this day if he believed I was awake or not, but it held off his demons, at least being passive I wasn’t giving him what he wanted. Somehow, I managed to be perfectly still. I knew our lives that night depended on that stillness. His anger and agitation were palatable in the air. I knew we were in danger in a way we had never been before. I knew death could be just a matter of hours or days, not weeks or months. The second to last time he came in, he had a letter for me. he dared to slip it past my shirt into my bra, groping and fondling me along the way, and then he patted it down like you would pat an annoying child on the head. But he didn’t leave. He became very quiet and still this time around, with no random pacing, whispered words, or mumbling. I grew more anxious and started to get sick to my stomach, and then I heard sounds that I recognized too well: he was relieving himself of pent-up sexual urges. After he was done, I heard my daughter’s door close and then the front door slam. I quickly located the spot on the floor where he had relieved himself, I dry heaved as quietly as possible. I briefly read his letter, it was a “love” letter, one meant to further manipulate and terrify me. He let me know it was my fault that he had become angry earlier in the day when he threw me into the wall and stabbed me with a meat fork. I tossed the letter aside, not bothering to finish listening to his bullshit. I quietly got out of bed and kept myself low to the floor. I knew he was outside, even though I heard the truck leave. Everything in my gut told me he was still out there. I went from window to window while also searching for my keys. I found them on the table, a place he never let them be before. It was a trap, I confirmed this when I went to the living room window and spotted him parked to the side behind a row of trees. I knew that to try and leave that night would result in something I was not prepared for. But I was prepared to leave. For weeks, I had been setting up a plan, a plan that included my daughter's help. I carefully hid away money, social security cards, birth certificates, and phone numbers and had secret stashes of clothing, photos, and keepsakes ready to go. But tonight was not the night, God told me, “Not yet. Tomorrow is coming.” He had started sensing my withdrawal, he knew I was done and was using fear and terror at that point to beat me down. But my daughter and I had also been talking, we were preparing, and we both understood that it had to be very public when we left; it was the only way to survive. He eventually did come back, I was back in bed with my daughter, but this time with all those documents and what little money I had tucked carefully away in cut-out pockets in my bag and coat. I had taken his letter and placed it back in my bra, I was perfectly still again while he stood over me, whispering words I won’t repeat. The smell of liquor was stronger than before, and his words were more mumbled and incoherent. It was only God who could have kept me so still when he brought his face down over mine, so close I could feel his nose touch my face. He just stared at me, trying to comprehend this situation. He grabbed his note, crumbled it up, and threw it at my face, I somehow didn’t flinch. He called me a bitch and he left once again, but this time I heard him lock my daughter's door. And then all hell broke loose in the house. My daughter stirred for a moment when the first picture frame was thrown, and I quickly rolled over and covered her ears. I reached out with my right hand and found the butcher knife I took with me after getting the money and documents hidden, and I prayed. For hours, the sounds came and went, the yelling and screaming, the taunting. I never slept that night. In the morning, when my daughter woke up. I looked at her and told her today is the day we leave, don’t say anything about whatever we see in the living room. She simply nodded and knew we were about to play the biggest game of our lives. We were going to pretend to be happy. I tentatively tried the door; he had unlocked it at some point. We went out into a destroyed house, and he was sitting at the table with coffee and breakfast ready. we sat down and pretended with everything we had because our lives depended on it. He suggested out of the blue that we go into town; I can’t tell you how much my heart jumped with joy, we would be in public. But then, my stomach dropped when he told me we would take both vehicles into town, he would take my daughter, and I’d follow in my car. He said he wanted me to leave my car at his mother’s so I wouldn’t get some “crazy” idea to sneak out and leave him in the middle of the night. I didn’t argue because it would risk our chance to get into a town. So, I did my due diligence and only slightly balked, but just enough for him to think he had won this battle. We finished getting ready. He put my daughter in his truck, and I followed. We met at his mother’s and then did some shopping and went and got something to eat at a drive-through. We played family, while I was on the lookout for the right moment; it had to be today. Except he insisted on carrying my daughter everywhere. Then he suggested that we rent a movie and we could go home and watch a movie while listening to the popcorn go “pop pop pop.” He said this while looking right at me with his hand extended, how little kids play around with pretend guns. In town, before it was sold, there used to be a Family Video on our Main Street. This was our last chance, and I knew it. While we were in there, he was still carrying my daughter, but I whispered, “Be ready,” and she nodded. On the way out, he was still carrying her. He put her in the truck and buckled her in (small cab truck, no back seat). She was squirming at this point and kicked a can of soda he had in the cupholder over; he started yelling and went around to the driver's side. There was our moment, I said “Now!" to my daughter, just as the voice of God yelled Now! in my head. I was panicked and my hands started shaking. I was trying to unbuckle her, and my hands were betraying me. He saw me, we locked eyes, and he knew what I was about to do. Everything happened so fast. All at once, I was being pushed out of the truck, just as her buckle came undone, all the while trying to keep my grip on my daughter’s arm. He grabbed her and pulled her back, and I started screaming as loud as I could, screaming for help. He managed to push me out again as he was trying to put the truck in reverse. I only had one more chance of getting her out; I jumped in and pushed him back as I pulled her out, and we both went rolling on the pavement. By then people started coming out and witnessed everything and he couldn’t do a damn thing to us anymore. He took off as the police were being called, and we were rushed into the store. I called my daughter’s grandfather to come and get her now, and I would explain later. I learned while talking with the officer that they had already arrested him; whoever called gave them a description of his truck, and the police were looking almost immediately. I told the officer everything that happened, even dug out my driver’s license from one of my hidden pockets and let them know he made me leave my car at his mother’s and that he took the keys from me. The officer made one call, I remember this one: “Check that bastard for her car keys.” They got my keys from him on the side of the road while he was sitting in the back of a squad car, and another officer brought them to me. They drove me to his mother’s, waited for me to get in my car, and followed me to my daughter’s grandfather’s. A few days later, I had a small window and went and got our stashed items and whatever I could fit in the car, and I left everything else behind. While going through some drawers, I found a gun, a 9 MM to be precise, with the serial number filed off. I had no idea there was a gun in the house, and then I saw it: a box of ammo with a yellow post-it note stuck on it, with my initials. © Jane Isley First published in Know They Self, Heal Thyself on Substack.

I just discovered a new term recently — “Process Theology,” otherwise known as “Process Theism.” “Process theism does not deny that God is in some respects eternal, immutable, and impassible, but it contradicts the classical view by insisting that God is in some respects temporal, mutable, and passible” (1) “Specifically, process theism is a product of theorizing that takes the categories of becoming, change, and time as foundational for metaphysics. The metaphysical underpinning of process theism is often called process philosophy,” (1) “Process Theology departs from traditional Christian beliefs mainly because of its view of the nature of God and His relationship to the universe. Many critics relate this deviance to the low view of Scripture held by Process Theologians who by and large deny the divine inspiration of the Bible. Others critique Process Theology as panentheism which says that God is to the world as a soul is to a body. It is believed that God is not the universe as in pantheism, but that God is apart from the universe, yet also in it. As the world is in the process of changing, so is God, and he is in the process of becoming all that he can be.” (2) So I’m not even going to touch that yet. I ran into this new to me term from an article that blew my mind with what the person was saying about God and miracles. To each their own, but they used the word “christian” to describe themselves, and I do lower case that because this is not Christianity. Here’s what I started thinking. First — why? Why are so many people willing to do this? This isn’t a divide and conquer situation here, yes, we can absolutely disagree on some minor things in the Bible, but we should be united in God at the same time. But this labeling crap is just to much. We aren’t “like-minded” anymore; there is so much division, personal opinions, lack of even basic Bible reading, and satan galore taking advantage of all this division. The Harm. There is such harm to be had with these labels, I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve been asked what my religion is, and I answer “Christian,” “follower of Jesus” or “believer” only to be hounded with more questions and sometimes demands as to what denomination or belief system I adhere to. Why can’t I just be a Christian who reads the Bible? I don’t follow any doctrine, and I didn’t make up my own either; I simply read the Bible. More recently-ish, I commented on an article, and the person commented back, “With these sentiments, you might be a Baptist and not know it.” I was so confused. First, my profession is not baptizing people; second, my comment was Biblical, not an opinion; third, I know dang well what I am. I don’t need someone tossing a label at me. Isn’t that getting old by now? Too many times, I have encountered people who define themselves by one of the many definitions and labels out there and just sort of stay locked in that definition's dogma without wanting to venture further and have a full-blown relationship with God. Sad to see that, and the division it’s causing among Christians worldwide. You know who just loves division and can really do some work with it? Satan. “Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.” 1 Peter 5:8 “I urge you, brothers and sisters, to watch out for those who cause divisions and put obstacles in your way that are contrary to the teaching you have learned. Keep away from them.” Romans 16:17 Division creates deviation. These constant and increasing divisions/labels only cause further and further deviations away from the Bible, which means you get further and further away from God and the Truth. The further away you get from Biblical teachings, the more you are in the running for the next top false teaching, and can not lump yourself into the Christian category any longer. “deny the divine inspiration of the Bible” “As the world is in the process of changing, so is God, and he is in the process of becoming all that he can be.” That ☝🏻 is not following Christ; that is not Biblical. Period. Now I don’t claim to know everything in the Bible, and I definitely have stuff I’m still working out, I’m fine with, because that will come in due time when the Lord knows I’m ready. I also have no qualms about calling out stuff that is not Biblical, using common sense, and the Bible to do so. Not to cause division but to point out the obvious, call out loads of barnacles out there, and hopefully inspire searching out God and truth for yourself. But please, can we stop with the division already? When someone answers that they are a Christian, be happy that they found the Lord! You may have just met the next person you are both to learn from. We don’t need labels to feel special; we are already special and precious to God. © Jane Isley (1) Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy: Process Theism. (2) Theopedia: Process theology

Lori Wangler is a slightly mischievous disciple of Jesus, sharing the surprises she finds in her Bible with an occasional dash of humor and a challenge: “So now what?” She believes the role of the teacher is to leave the listener with more questions than pat answers, and a desire to seek them out. With no other qualifications than a desire to be like Jesus, she is not widely read and not always a welcome face in the crowd. But to know her is to love her. Aside from her studies, she loves to travel, try new things, and find and photograph the beauty of creation. You can find her Scripture-based essays, as well as several shots at humor, on Medium, and her entire “Isaiah for Dummies” series on her blog, Ponder.

My name is Larry Thompson. I’m am simply a pen that prayerfully writes what God inspires me to think and share. It is my sincere prayer that none be lost and that all should accept the saving grace of God in the gift offered to all of us through the death, burial and resurrection of Christ Jesus. Peace and Blessings be with you. Medium

One would think the answer is no, but alas, why should it be a surprise that I even have a reason to be writing this article? Some churches are known for requiring or specifying specific prayer postures. I, however, do not believe a church has the right to dictate a person’s prayer position, for any reason. I consider it quite rude and controlling to do so. As well as it limits the Holy Spirit from being able to engage with that person fully if there is a demand or script to go along with prayer. When I am praying, I do what my body tells me is right. By that I mean I might be in my office chilling and praying out loud to God, and something deep comes over me and I want to go to Him differently. I’ll move, and either bow my head, clasp my hands while sitting, lift my arms up to Him, go for a walk, or get on my knees. I do what I feel is needed in my prayers to God. It is a personal and intimate moment that is between just God and me, not a man. I walked into a discussion about “how are we supposed to pray?” Well, that was soon followed up by being told (during a sermon) we were now being expected to pray a certain way, and anything less meant we were not doing it right according to the gospel of that pastor. No explanations, and no verses to support doing just that one specific posture all the time. It was forced on us within the matter of a few seconds, and I watched as 97% of the congregation went along with it, like the pastor's word was God’s word. This forced situation confused me to no end, and no, I did not comply. The Bible gives us examples of many positions people have prayed in to God, He didn’t care what their body position was; He just cared about where their heart was positioned. King David went and sat down. The Levites said stand up and praise God. Elijah paced back and forth. Nehemiah praised the Lord, and then they bowed down. Men lifting up their Holy hands in prayer. Peter got down on his knees. Moses prostrated himself before God. You can even keep your eyes open and look up when praying, Jesus did. Then here, I spotted that Solomon stood at an altar with his arms spread out, and then he changed positions. All sorts of positions are listed above, not one mentioned as superior to the other. Next, we have Jesus teaching us how to pray. (who btw, prayed in a variety of different postures Himself) When Jesus taught the disciples how to pray, it was words he taught them, not a posture. I don't read anywhere where He leads with “first you have to get in xxxx position, only then can you pray. No, He starts by saying, “This, then, is how you should pray,” and “When you pray, say:” In fact, Jesus doesn’t specify any particular position. I believe this is done for a reason — to stop churches and leaders from dictating how we are “supposed” to “pray properly.” Let’s not forget: We are created in God’s image, He gave us abundant ways to communicate. You're really going to unbiblically try and tell me I’m supposed to pray a certain way? I think not. It’s the position of the heart that matters when praying to God, do not let any person or church control how you pray. “But the Lord said to Samuel, “Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him. The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” 1 Samuel 16:7 © Jane Isley

I’ve been plagued lately with sadness at what I see happening within many churches. To me, they are no longer churches, just fancy buildings full of people who have not just lost their way, but purposely go their own way, and think they can convince God to go along with it. Many debates have already happened, and even more will continue as people pursue themselves and increasingly push God aside in pursuit of life, liberty, and the lies they want to hear. The same people who can quote Psalm 23 without a moment's hesitation with a faithful adoration are willingly choosing to ignore other parts of the Bible. Both the leaders and the congregants are equally guilty. “This is the fate of those who trust in themselves, and of their followers, who approve their sayings. They are like sheep and are destined to die; death will be their shepherd (but the upright will prevail over them in the morning).” “But to the wicked person, God says: “What right have you to recite my laws or take my covenant on your lips?” “You hate my instruction and cast my words behind you.” “You use your mouth for evil and harness your tongue to deceit.” “[…]But I now arraign you and set my accusations before you. “Consider this, you who forget God, or I will tear you to pieces, with no one to rescue you:” I don’t need to elaborate, explain, or break down the language. God couldn’t be clearer. If you can not bear this, you are not of Him. If you are angered, you are not of Him. If you cannot hear Him, you are not of Him. Ignorance is not bliss. No one is stopping anyone from reading their Bible and having courage in God to stand faithfully to His words. © Jane Isley Reference Verses and recommended reads: Bible Gateway; NIV Psalm 49 & Bible Gateway; NIV Psalm 50

Caregiver burnout, boundaries, and God You will stumble, you will fail at times, you will cry and grieve what you once had. But you will also excel in something so complex that only you are the expert. You will soar and sing praises when mountains are moved, you see their smiles, and have those precious good days. And you will become the advocate you never knew you were. From me to you, you are doing the hardest job in the world. I am a parent and a caregiver to my disabled adult daughter. There is a difference between the struggles and frustrations that come with being a parent versus those of a parent caregiver. At some point, we all believe our children will leave the nest. They will go their own way independently of their parents and make a life in this world. No more scheduling their doctor’s appointments, making sure their homework is done, or doing their laundry. Being a caregiver can be a whole other type of hell. If you’ve been one or are one, you know exactly what I mean. Your life is forever intertwined with the person you are caring for. Your mind does not rest because it’s always in caregiver mode. Even if you get the chance to get away for the evening, your role never clocks out; you’re either keeping an eye on your phone, having random thoughts of them throughout your evening, and inevitably, at some point, the person you’re caring for is brought up in conversation. This Role Never Leaves You I have been my daughter's primary (and for a long time, only) caregiver for 12 years, when everything changed for her in an instant when she was 11. I have no career to speak of, no finished college degree, a very sad 401(k) that I try to contribute to, no sick days, vacation days, weekends off, and not even earned credits towards my social security if I get the chance to retire. Man, Do I Miss Fridays When I knew I had two full days to sleep in, chill, and take a break. I get sad over that when I think about it. I haven’t had a Friday in 12 years. I know I could have stepped away from this role and not taken it on. I’ve seen it done before, but I love my daughter with everything I have; those job perks above I leave to the Lord. He put us together for a reason, and I trust His reasoning for that, but wow, some days I do get frustrated, sad, and exhausted. I am forever thankful for God’s grace and patience, and knowing He goes beyond just loving me on my worst days, to carrying the burden of this role that can weigh me down, and providing me the restful peace I need amongst the darkness of compassion fatigue and overstimulation. Many people surround me, and I’m sure you’ve had the same throughout your time as a caregiver. However, as caregivers, we also understand that the ones who surround us do not understand those weights in the same way as we do. It is an experience that is uniquely ours. You know it’s ok not to be ok at times, right? At one point, the stress of being a caregiver got so bad that I broke down. Everyone around me seemed so willing to “help,” but all they wanted was to stay and chat, then they’d leave the moment something happened with my daughter. Leaving me crushed, hurt, and broken. Everyone who was with me when things started to get bad for my daughter did this. They left everything on my shoulders and a few loved to toot their horn about being a caregiver when in fact they did nothing. When I say I broke, I mean I broke. I sought out medical help and was admitted to the hospital. I lashed out at people after that, not cruelly or maliciously, but I did chew some serious butt. I started calling them out for what they were doing, I fought back, and I demanded better. I also distanced myself from the ones who saw no wrong in their behavior and only brought their drama over to our home. No one saw me. They saw what they wanted, which was the person who took care of everything for my daughter. It was easy peasy for them because they didn’t have to lift a finger. I wasn’t a person anymore, I was a handy commodity. I still feel that way sometimes now, when certain situations arise, but I’ve since fought back and have been starting to reclaim parts of my life again. How do you reclaim your life when it’s intertwined with another’s? The answer is you don’t, you never will be able to. But you can carve out chunks here and there and build on those. That’s what I had to learn to do for myself, and what I had to fight for. I need those chunks, those are my Fridays now. The moments I look forward to. That’s how I reclaimed a life for myself, and a new path was forged by God. My days will never be what they once were, or what they could have been. But my days now are so much better because I am no longer afraid to cry, and say “not today”, I’m not afraid to say I need someone else to take care of their own life, and I’m absolutely not afraid to give it to God and lean on Him to take a breath. That is the most beautiful gift He has given me. I put up a healthy wall, built a new foundation for myself with God’s help, and put people in their place if they try and take advantage. I tell my family now what I need when I’m struggling, even if it means leaving things messy or ignoring calls. I may be a caregiver, but I am more than that, and so are you. We are people with wishes, wants, and dreams that got sidelined in a way few understand, a sideline that will forever become a part of who we are now because our lives are wholly entwined with another person’s life. But we are more than caregivers; we are unique, loved, and worthy of forging a new path with God. © Jane Isley First Published in Never Stop Writing on Medium.

I fell off my chair. Literally. When I regained consciousness, my eyes opened to a mosaic of the faces from my Bible study. They brought me juice and a blueberry muffin. As the study continued, I cringed in embarrassment. Little did I know that God was beginning a good work in me. Falling off my chair was Day One in Sanctification 101. When a person comes face-to-face with death, it’s not a bad time to ponder one’s purpose in life. Prior to Day One, my sole purpose in life was me. My happiness. My pleasure. My fulfillment. You only live once, make the most of it! If that’s true, then when my body is lowered into the ground and the first shovelful of dirt tossed on my coffin, then that’s it. There is nothing more. Nothing more to life. It’s a sad thought. Why get out of bed if there is nothing more? Every Cell Tells a Story I look at my hands and think of all they have accomplished in over 50 years of blood running through my veins. Thump-bump, thump-bump. I feel the near-silent pulse of my heart pumping blood through my body; the assembly-line of iron-rich red blood cells swimming past the alveoli to pick up oxygen, which they will carry to every cell in my body. Oxygen is the necessary ingredient in combustion reactions, which provide the energy needed for me to think, walk, talk, type, read, move, and breathe. It’s kind of miraculous, if you ask me. But some will say we evolved and have no purpose. A World That Points Beyond Itself But it’s not just the miracle of the human body, but the miracle of the Maple tree outside my kitchen window. Without a heart, the tree’s xylem and phloem transport water, nutrients, and sugars throughout the tree. The fruit trees will produce blossoms, which birds and bees will assist in fertilizing, until we pick the ripe fruit and eat it; more energy for my body’s cells so I can think and walk and talk and type and read and move and breathe. It’s a miracle, if you ask me. And our planet, Earth, on which these fruit trees grow, is 93 million miles from the sun. If we just happened to be 5 million miles closer to the sun, Earth would not be habitable. It would be a great sauna, too hot to sustain life. No xylem and phloem in trees producing fruit. No blood carrying oxygen to my cells. No life. Nothing. Lucky thing we’re just the right distance from the sun? No. Luck isn’t involved here, just a brilliant Creator. If you ask me, He’s a miracle worker. In His Image And that brilliant Creator created me. I look in the mirror. It’s the same face I have seen every day for over 50 years. Looks pretty normal, yet I am created, “in the image of God.” I may not ‘look’ like God, but He created me with some of His attributes. I have a natural moral grounding, an innate knowledge of right and wrong. I desire relationship with others. I have intellect and the ability to reason. These are gifts from God, which are used to fulfill His purpose in my life. But despite these gifts and my knowledge of right and wrong, I do not stand on a moral high ground. Every day, I get out of bed and sin. I sin in my words. I sin in my thoughts. I sin in my actions. If I had evolved, the one thing that should have been bred out of the DNA of humans is sin, but it never leaves. Every single person who has descended from Adam has the sin disease. Every person except Jesus. Judgment, Mercy, and a Savior God looked down at His sin-filled creation, making a mess of everything. When things got really bad, He destroyed every living thing on earth by flood, preserving only those on the ark. When things continued to go downhill, He destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah. And when things continued to crash and burn, He showered Mercy down upon us. He didn’t give us the punishment we deserved: death. Instead, He came down to Earth in the bodily form of Jesus Christ. The God-man. God Incarnate. God in the flesh. Jesus lived a perfect life and died a sinner’s death. It is only a perfect sacrifice that can redeem a world of sinners, and that’s what He did. God allowed Himself to be nailed to a cross, begging forgiveness for those crucifying Him. It is my sin and your sin that held Him there. If there had been another way, Jesus would have taken it, but there was no other way. He died so that we may live. Eternally. With Him. In Heaven. Forever. All we need to do is believe. The Question of Faith But, but, but… I hear you. It’s a leap of faith to believe that God came to Earth as a man and died on a cross to save me. It’s also a leap of faith to say there is no God; that we were all created by random chance; that we just happen to have blood in our veins that has iron in it that picks up oxygen from our lungs and carries it to where it’s needed in our bodies; that we evolved from trilobites. The geological column verifies it, right? I Know Where I Am Going I lay flat on my back on the hospital bed, being wheeled into the surgery room, staring at the lights embedded in the ceiling. As I had my last conscious thoughts before the anesthesia kicked in, I knew it took more faith to be an atheist than a Christian. If I didn’t survive the surgery, I knew where I was going. That’s why I believe. © 2026 Tessa Lind from Pursuing Perfection on Substack