Anger - Christine Cane

 “It is amazing how much anger just simmers, simmers. And then of course the algorithm, it just amplifies it. Because our algorithms, their design, man, keep people on.

The angrier they are, the better. We want the clickbait, we want the rage that sells, and you and I are being formed by this all the time. I don't know about you.

I can go online and literally I feel a visceral shift in my whole disposition as I'm going through and I'm reading comments or I'm scrolling through the things people say. Like I have banned myself from going on so that I don't react because it just fuels me and the anger fuels me. And this is what psychologists have said.

They said there's this phenomena and it's called the bitterness anger loop. And I looked at it and said this is a self-reinforcing cycle that transforms temporary hurt into permanent hostility. Welcome to 2026.

And the fact is it's affecting all of our relationships. It's affecting us psychologically, emotionally, physiologically and spiritually.

And the fact is it's become a macroeconomic force. The rage economy, this is how they're making money.

“It is their goal to make us get angry so we stay online longer and longer and longer. And the fact is they've monetised anger in the world that we're growing up in. The social media algorithms, they literally, literally promote content that triggers outrage because angry people click more, share more, and stay online more.

The data is there. And you and I are being formed in the midst of that, and we think it is normal. We are being sucked into this anger, bitterness loop, hook, line, and sinker.

It's kind of like anger, it's been said, is like dynamite. It blows up the very structures and foundations that are supposed to be holding us together. It disintegrates them, and we're watching it happen in real time in our lifetime.

It causes us to act and to say things that we later regret big time, and it wounds people, and it fractures relationships, and sometimes permanently. What happens is it causes us to go into this denial, and Naomi's poem and talk was so powerful, because our anger masks our fear and our shame. Listen, I had a PhD in this.

From Bridgetown Audio Podcast: 7 Deadly Sins: Anger, Jan 12, 2026

https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/bridgetown-audio-podcast/id84246334?i=1000744768076&r=918

This material may be protected by copyright.

Jesus Was My Co-Pilot

 For years, I used to keep a small picture of Jesus with the caption “Jesus is My Co-Pilot”.   With that mindset, I felt more motivated to try harder, be more, and achieve success.

(He is the greatest person who has ever lived, but this article is focusing on His growth strategies as applied in a ministry and business context.)

That statement isn’t true.

In the context of business, Jesus Christ wasn’t a marketer.

He was the greatest salesperson of all time.

We Live in a Marketing World—and It’s Confusing Us

We live in a world obsessed with marketing.

And don’t get me wrong…marketing matters.

But we’ve confused marketing with sales.

Because of bad experiences, manipulation, and religious trauma, many people recoil at the word sales. I get it. I’ve felt that resistance too.

But here’s the truth:

The Kingdom is not built on marketing.

The Kingdom is built on direct invitation, which is sales.

Jesus Didn’t Market Himself—He Sold Himself

Jesus didn’t broadcast ads.

He didn’t wait for virality.

He called people by name.

One by one.

Personally.

Directly.

He wasn’t discouraged by rejection.

He wasn’t bitter over betrayal.

He just kept inviting.

And when the crowds did grow too large, He deliberately taught in ways He knew would cause many to walk away.

He didn’t chase numbers.

He qualified disciples.

That’s sales.

The Holy Spirit still works this way today:

By invitation, intimately personal. Direct

Neuroplasticity and Scripture

 

The Christian Mind Reser substack

Scripture as Self-Talk (with a Neuroscience Lens)

The brain learns from repetition and will often treat what it hears repeatedly as believable, whether it is true or not, which is why it matters so much what we say to ourselves. Through neuroplasticity (the brain’s ability to change with repeated experience), our inner dialogue shapes the pathways our mind returns to.

Scripture has always modeled this.

David speaks directly to his own soul when fear and discouragement rise: “Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God” (Psalm 42:5). This is intentional self-talk, redirecting the mind before circumstances change.

Jeremiah does the same in the middle of grief: “This I recall to my mind, therefore have I hope” (Lamentations 3:21). Hope follows what the mind rehearses.

Habakkuk speaks truth ahead of relief: “Yet I will rejoice in the Lord” (Habakkuk 3:18). Those words I will reflect a decision to guide the inner conversation.

Jesus models this under pressure by responding to temptation with Scripture already stored in His heart (Matthew 4:4–10), and Paul later reminds believers to take thoughts captive and focus on what is true (2 Corinthians 10:5; Philippians 4:8).

Neuroscience helps explain why this works. When stress activates the amygdala (threat detection), intentional, truth-based self-talk helps reengage the prefrontal cortex (calm, perspective), allowing the nervous system to settle. Over time, repeated truth reshapes the default mode network (self-talk, rumination), forming a healthier mental baseline.

This is why God tells us to hide His Word in our hearts (Psalm 119:11) and meditate on it day and night (Joshua 1:8; Psalm 1:2). These were never rigid rules, but loving guidance meant to shape hearts and minds toward life.

Scripture is not just something we read. It is meant to become the voice we return to.

Observe thoughts that come into your head. Write them down, then check the facts against God’s Word. If they are not aligned, find verses that are true and write those down beside the negative thoughts and start declaring God’s Truth over the negative thoughts that come to your mind. This will help with the renewal process and begin reprogramming your brain to align with God’s Word.

We will begin our weekly series on Self-Talk to help you practice these techniques.

Try these today.

Weekly Scripture as Self-Talk Series 

Week 1: When Fear Is Loud

Example 1- Verse: “God is our refuge and strength” (Psalm 46:1) Self-Talk: God is my refuge right now. I am not unsafe. (amygdala → prefrontal cortex)

Example 2- Verse: “Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God” (Isaiah 41:10)

Self-Talk: God is with me right now. I am not facing this alone.

(amygdala → prefrontal cortex)

This verse gives the anxious mind a clear safety cue. Repeating it helps calm threat detection and restores a sense of presence and support.

Example 2- Verse: “I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made” (Psalm 139:14)

Self-Talk: I am intentionally created and deeply valued by God.

(neuroplasticity through repeated truth)

This verse speaks directly to identity. Repeating it helps replace critical inner narratives with truth rooted in God’s design rather than self-judgment.

Example 3-Verse: “I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made” (Psalm 139:14)

Self-Talk: I am intentionally created and deeply valued by God.

(neuroplasticity through repeated truth)

This verse speaks directly to identity. Repeating it helps replace critical inner narratives with truth rooted in God’s design rather than self-judgment.

If you struggle with Scripture memorization, you are not alone. Start small and stay gentle with yourself. Write the verse out, place it where you will see it, say it aloud, and return to it often. Repetition matters, and over time God’s Word begins to settle into the heart.

“We are more than conquerors through Him who loved us” (Romans 8:37).

You don’t have to memorize everything at once. Even one verse, repeated often, can become a steady anchor for your mind and soul.

Neuroscience shows your brain does not automatically evaluate truth or lies. It responds to repetition.

When a thought is repeated, the brain strengthens the neural pathway connected to it. 

Over time that pathway becomes familiar and automatic. 

This is neuroplasticity. It explains why repeated negative thoughts can begin to feel true even when there is no evidence to support them.

Research from cognitive neuroscience shows that repeated self talk shapes emotion focus and behavior. 

The brain often prioritizes familiarity over accuracy when forming habits. 

What you rehearse becomes what your mind returns to by default.

This is why Scripture emphasizes renewing the mind. 

God designed the brain to be shaped by what it repeatedly takes in. 

When we intentionally repeat truth especially God’s Word new pathways form and lies lose their power.

Be transformed by the renewing of your mind. 

Romans 12:2

Take every thought captive to Christ. 

2 Corinthians 10:5

 References

Doidge, N. (2007). The brain that changes itself.

Hebb, D. O. (1949). The organization of behavior.

Beck, J. S. (2011). Cognitive behavior therapy.

——

Your mind believes what you tell it.

Your brain changes based on what you believe.

That’s neuroplasticity.

Neuroscience shows that repeated thoughts strengthen neural pathways.

What you return to again and again becomes easier for your brain to access.

That’s why beliefs matter.

But as believers, we don’t place our hope in the universe or vague positivity.

We anchor our minds in truth.

“And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.”

Romans 8:28 

When you believe this truth, your brain begins organizing around it.

Hope circuits strengthens

Fear pathways weaken.

Meaning replaces chaos.

This isn’t mind-over-matter.

This is mind-under-God.

Neuroplasticity explains how the brain changes.

Scripture reveals what it should be shaped by.

Renewing your mind isn’t passive.

It’s the brain responding to truth the way God designed it to.

- the Christian mind reset

In the company of friends

Excerpts from “The Resurrection Life” by Eugene Peterson

Questions for discussion:

1.  How do we often think living the Christian life is a sole life project? 

2.  How do American men have difficulty with following Christ within the context of a tight knit community,?

3.  How is a company of friends helping you live as a follower of Christ?

4.  What stands in your way of building relationships that demonstrate the resurrection life (as Eugene Peterson describes)?

5.  How can a small group transform your life far more than living the Christian life on your own?

 “IN THE COMPANY OF FRIENDS

Spiritual formation not only should not be—but also cannot be—professionalized. It takes place essentially in the company of friends, of peers.

Jesus’ resurrection takes place in the company of friends who know each other by name, some of whom we know by name. The resurrection is not an impersonal exhibit put on display before crowds. Resurrection is experienced in a network of personal relationships. The named people remind us that the resurrection takes place among men and women like us—puzzled, bewildered, confused, questioning, and even stubbornly doubting friends. And yes, also singing and believing and praying and obeying friends.

All this derives from the Trinity: personal relations, not impersonal formation.

Matthew provides us with the first canonical account of a company of friends being spiritually formed into the resurrection life (see 28:16-20). Two women, Mary Magdalene and “the other Mary,” in Matthew’s telling of the story, are met by the risen Christ on a Sunday morning and are ordered to tell the disciples. Jesus calls them “my brothers” (verse 10, MSG). He tells them to go to Galilee where he will meet them.

They do it—eleven of them (the Twelve minus Judas). They go to the mountain they had been directed to, and Jesus meets them there. But it was an oddly equivocal meeting, for “some doubted” (verse 17).

How can that be? “They worshiped,” true, but “some doubted.” Which ones? Wouldn’t you like to know which ones? How many? Was it a few? Was it most of them? A majority? A minority? And for how long? Was it momentary? Did it continue for days afterward? Maybe through a lifetime?

Here’s the thing: Jesus doesn’t seem to require a unanimous vote before proceeding. He goes ahead and addresses all of them simply as a company of friends—worshipers and doubters alike. And his address is a command to continue the work he has begun in and with them, accompanied by his promise to be with them as they do it:

“God authorized and commanded me to commission you: Go out and train everyone you meet, far and near, in this way of life, marking them by baptism in the threefold name: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Then instruct them in the practice of all I have commanded you. I’ll be with you as you do this, day after day after day, right up to the end of the age.” (verses 18-20, MSG)

Three verbs activate their resurrection life: train, baptize, and instruct.

There are no spiritual elites

“My first observation in this regard is that recognizing and responding to Jesus’ resurrection is not a private experience. It takes place in the company of others. We know about the two closed-room meetings in Jerusalem on successive Sundays—first with thirteen and then with eleven. Paul also cites the experience of the resurrection occurring among companies of friends—the Twelve, the “more than five hundred,” and “all the apostles” (1 Corinthians 15:5-7). Earlier we noted the two at the Emmaus supper, the seven on the Galilean beach, Matthew’s two Marys, Mark’s three women bringing embalming spices to the tomb, and Luke’s four-plus women on their way to care for Jesus’ body.

The two partial exceptions are the first and the last reports that have been given to us. But they are only partial, for Mary Magdalene’s meeting with Jesus in the garden—the first report—was in the context of much coming and going and reporting as the resurrection news was flying about. She certainly didn’t hold herself aloof as a privileged “first.” And Paul’s meeting with Jesus on the Damascus road—the last report—was in the company of others who heard but didn’t see what was going on. The immediate consequence was Paul’s submission to the company and wisdom of others. Paul, in his Corinthian letter, makes a reference to this and refuses to put himself even on a par with the resurrection witnesses, describing himself as bringing up the rear and disclaiming any position. ”

“A PERSONAL AND RELATIONAL KIND OF KNOWING

A second observation reinforces this personal and relational aspect of life formed by the resurrection of Jesus: Twice in these stories of resurrection friends, there are references to the Trinity, the company of the Godhead.

When in Matthew’s account Jesus commissions his disciples from the Galilean mountain, he orders them to make disciples everywhere in the world, “baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit” (28:19).”

“THE CONGRUENCE OF ACCOUNTS

My third observation notes the congruence of the Gospel writers’ stories of resurrection with Paul’s six resurrection texts. Resurrection brings our lives into the operations of the gospel. Resurrection gives spiritual formation its energy and character. Here are the six texts:

Romans 6:4: “We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, so that as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.”

Romans 8:11: “If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ Jesus from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also through his Spirit which dwells in you.”

Ephesians 2:5-6: “[God] made us alive together with Christ . . . and raised us up with him, and made us sit with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus.”

“Philippians 3:10: “That I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death.”

Colossians 2:12: “You were buried with him in baptism, in which you were also raised with him through faith in the working of God, who raised him from the dead.”

Colossians 3:1: “If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God.”

Here are the elements to notice:

“As Christ was raised . . . we too”

“He who raised Christ . . . will give life to your mortal bodies”

“Raised us up with him”

“That I may know . . . the power of his resurrection”

“You were also raised with him”

“If then you have been raised with Christ”

All of Paul’s pronouns are in the plural—we, us, you, your. The one exception—Paul’s “I” in Philippians—is hardly an exception, for he is giving witness to what he is intending for them to experience. He’s not setting himself apart as an expert or as a privileged example of resurrection living.

THE HOLY BREATHING

A fourth observation: Paul’s insistence that we participate in the same resurrection as Jesus is congruent with Jesus’ actions and words to his assembled disciples on the evening of his resurrection when he “breathed on them, and said to them, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit’” (John 20:22). “The Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead”—that’s Paul’s phrase in Romans 8:11—is the same Spirit that Jesus breathed on them. Jesus’ followers live resurrection-formed lives, not by watching him or imitating him or being influenced by him, but by being raised with him. It’s formation-by-resurrection.

There’s an interesting echo of the Creation story in this. The word John uses for Jesus’ action in breathing the Holy Spirit on them—emphusaõ—is the same verb used in Genesis 2 for God’s breathing the “breath of life” into the human form he had just made, resulting in a “living being” (verse 7).”

“A culture of autonomy sets a high value on independence and self-sufficiency. It’s supposed to be a good thing not to have to ask anyone for help. It’s held up as an achievement to get where we want on our own. Every automobile, every computer puts us a little more “in charge” of our lives. But at the same time, it isolates us from others. We don’t need others.

But what if there are things, experiences, values, and pleasures that we can have only in the company of others—like resurrection? A studied and cultivated independence diminishes the capacity for resurrection and dulls our awareness of resurrection.

At the same time that autonomy physically separates us from personal relationships with others, a culture of professionalism separates our sense of common life with others. If we have learned to rely and depend on a professional class for our health, our automobile repairs, our legal affairs, and our religious well-being, the ordinary people with whom we live—the ones we have the most to do with (our acquaintances, our neighbors, and frequently the members of our own family)—diminish in dignity. And when we ourselves are constantly treated by the experts as either consumers or victims, we too are left without much sense of dignity.

THE PRACTICE OF RESURRECTION

The resurrection life is a practice. It’s not something we practice like practicing musical scales or practicing our golf swing. It is practice in the more inclusive sense in which we say a physician has a practice—work that defines both his or her character and workday. Physicians don’t practice on sick people. They enter the practice of healing. We use the word practice similarly in phrases such as the practice of law, the practice of diplomacy, the practice of prayer. This is the sense in which we practice resurrection—we engage in a life that is permeated by the presence and companionship of the resurrected Jesus in the company of friends.

I’m interested in recovering this comprehensive sense of the Christian life under the conditions of our dailyness and ordinariness—our practice. It’s not something that we go to retreat centers and conferences and special gatherings to practice but rather the life of resurrection that is practiced in the dailyness of home and workplace.”

“Lord Jesus Christ, we come to you with a deep sense of gratitude, care, concern, devotion, love for you, and desire to live responsively to you. We sense that we’re with friends in your company of followers—friends who share the life of resurrection and want others to get in on it, notice it, and begin participating at the center of what you’re doing rather than on the periphery. We pray for strength and discernment to understand the culture we are in—the deadening effects, the seductive lures. We pray that whatever has been said in these pages can be used—some of it, at least—to sharpen what we’re doing. We ask your blessing on your church—scattered and dispersed and so much of it in despair. We pray that wherever we are and whatever places we go back into—whether it’s pew or pulpit—we may be part of this resurrection life, knowing that you are present and doing your work. You’re not anxious about what is going to happen or whether this is going to work or not. It’s worked a long, long time and will continue working. Mostly, keep us faithful, attentive, adorational, sacrificial, and personal. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

- Excerpt From Living the Resurrection by Eugene H. Peterson

https://books.apple.com/us/book/living-the-resurrection/id833639626

This material may be protected by copyright.

Excerpt From

Living the Resurrection

Eugene H. Peterson

https://books.apple.com/us/book/living-the-resurrection/id833639626

This material may be protected by copyright.

Excerpt From

Living the Resurrection

Eugene H. Peterson

https://books.apple.com/us/book/living-the-resurrection/id833639626

This material may be protected by copyright.

Excerpt From

Living the Resurrection

Eugene H. Peterson

https://books.apple.com/us/book/living-the-resurrection/id833639626

This material may be protected by copyright.

Excerpt From

Living the Resurrection

Eugene H. Peterson

https://books.apple.com/us/book/living-the-resurrection/id833639626

This material may be protected by copyright.

Excerpt From

Living the Resurrection

Eugene H. Peterson

https://books.apple.com/us/book/living-the-resurrection/id833639626

This material may be protected by copyright.

Excerpt From

Living the Resurrection

Eugene H. Peterson

https://books.apple.com/us/book/living-the-resurrection/id833639626

This material may be protected by copyright.

Excerpt From

Living the Resurrection

Eugene H. Peterson

https://books.apple.com/us/book/living-the-resurrection/id833639626

This material may be protected by copyright.

Excerpt From

Living the Resurrection

Eugene H. Peterson

https://books.apple.com/us/book/living-the-resurrection/id833639626

This material may be protected by copyright.

Excerpt From

Living the Resurrection

Eugene H. Peterson

https://books.apple.com/us/book/living-the-resurrection/id833639626

This material may be protected by copyright.

Excerpt From

Living the Resurrection

Eugene H. Peterson

https://books.apple.com/us/book/living-the-resurrection/id833639626

This material may be protected by copyright.

Excerpt From

Living the Resurrection

Eugene H. Peterson

https://books.apple.com/us/book/living-the-resurrection/id833639626

This material may be protected by copyright.

Excerpt From

Living the Resurrection

Eugene H. Peterson

https://books.apple.com/us/book/living-the-resurrection/id833639626

This material may be protected by copyright.

That’s the end of the story as Matthew tells it. Matthew isn’t”

Excerpt From

Living the Resurrection

Eugene H. Peterson

https://books.apple.com/us/book/living-the-resurrection/id833639626

This material may be protected by copyright.

Excerpt From

Living the Resurrection

Eugene H. Peterson

https://books.apple.com/us/book/living-the-resurrection/id833639626

This material may be protected by copyright.

Excerpt From

Living the Resurrection

Eugene H. Peterson

https://books.apple.com/us/book/living-the-resurrection/id833639626

This material may be protected by copyright.

Excerpt From

Living the Resurrection

Eugene H. Peterson

https://books.apple.com/us/book/living-the-resurrection/id833639626

This material may be protected by copyright.

Jonathan and David

 There is a tenderness in Scripture that our modern world rarely knows what to do with.

When David and Jonathan’s friendship unfolds across the pages of 1 Samuel, it carries a kind of emotional and physical closeness that unsettles contemporary readers. We live in a world that flattens human intimacy into one of two categories: sexual or sterile. But the friendship of Jonathan and David offers us something altogether different — something holy, embodied, and deeply faithful.

“The soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul.”

— 1 Samuel 18:1

From their first meeting, this is not the shallow camaraderie of shared interest; it is a covenantal knitting together. Jonathan’s affection is expressed through costly surrender — he strips himself of his robe, armor, sword, and bow and places them in David’s hands. In doing so, he is not only honoring David’s anointing but relinquishing his own claim to power. This act is not erotic; it is profoundly covenantal. It is the language of loyalty that has skin on it.

Their friendship is embodied in ways we rarely see among men today — and rarely allow ourselves to imagine among friends in general. They weep together. They hold one another. They bless one another with physical touch and tears. When Jonathan dies, David’s lament breaks open with a line that still confounds modern readers:

“Your love to me was wonderful, surpassing the love of women.”

— 2 Samuel 1:26

1. A Covenant of Souls, Not of Flesh

This was no secret romance disguised as friendship. It was something that cuts deeper: a covenantal devotion between two men who bore witness to God’s promises in each other’s lives. The Hebrew word ahavah (“love”) that describes their bond is the same used for God’s steadfast love for His people.

The love between Jonathan and David points to the reality that all true friendship participates in the covenant faithfulness of God. It’s not erotic desire that animates their closeness but mutual surrender — a willingness to give, protect, and bless, even when it costs something.

2. The Body as Witness to Affection

What makes many modern readers uncomfortable is how embodied their friendship is. They embrace. They kiss. They cry. We are so conditioned to interpret touch through sexual categories that we struggle to see physical affection as a language of loyalty, tenderness, or spiritual kinship.

But Scripture never divorces the soul from the body. Humans are not disembodied spirits; we are incarnate beings who express love, grief, and covenant through touch, presence, and gesture. The body bears witness to what the heart feels.

To be human is to need touch — not always in sexual ways, but as reassurance, solidarity, and blessing. Jonathan and David remind us that the body can express covenant love without corrupting it.

3. A Friendship That Prefigures Christ

Jonathan’s love for David is, in many ways, Christlike. He lays down privilege and inheritance for the sake of another’s calling. He chooses faithfulness over fear, love over power. Their friendship foreshadows the truest Friend — the One who said, “Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.” (John 15:13)

In this way, Jonathan and David’s friendship is not merely emotional intimacy; it’s theological. It reveals the kind of self-giving affection that Christ Himself would later embody — love that pours itself out for the sake of another’s flourishing.

4. Recovering Holy Affection

In our world, affection is often either hypersexualized or suppressed. We fear being misunderstood, so we withhold tenderness. We conflate desire with lust, and affection with temptation. The result is that we have almost no category for holy closeness — nearness that blesses instead of blurring boundaries.

Jonathan and David show us there is a space — rare, but real — for embodied affection that is not erotic. This is not license for unwise intimacy or emotional entanglement. It’s an invitation to imagine a purer form of nearness — one that neither denies the body nor weaponizes it for desire.

Physical closeness can be beautiful, but only when it is submitted to the posture of the heart. The body’s gestures must always be governed by reverence — by a heart that asks not “what can I take from you?” but “how can I honor Christ in how I hold you?”

There is no free pass for affection unmoored from holiness.

But there is sacred permission to recover affection that reflects holiness — affection that speaks the language of loyalty, safety, and covenant.

5. Love That Bears the Weight of Glory

Perhaps that is the invitation of Jonathan and David: to reclaim the sacred middle space where love is both embodied and restrained, tender and reverent. A love that remembers we are dust and spirit — longing for nearness, yet accountable to glory.

Their friendship reminds us that physical closeness need not be feared, but formed.

It must be measured not by intensity but by intention.

Not by what the body wants, but by what the heart worships.

When the body becomes a vessel for covenant love, it no longer threatens holiness; it reveals it.

Jonathan and David’s story isn’t there to scandalize us. It’s there to restore something lost: the possibility that human love, even when it aches and touches and cries, can still be holy.

It is the love that holds without grasping, that draws near without devouring.

It’s the love of a soul knit to another — a love that, in its truest form, points beyond itself, toward the greater Friend who knits Himself to us in grace.

Brenna Blain - Rae Liturgies substack

Escape Room Faith

 Leslie Neese

I’ve been thinking about an image that helps me name how my faith used to feel to me. This morning while chatting with my sister on the phone, I realized I knew exactly what it felt like:

It felt like an escape room.

I believed and was taught that you’re born into the world already needing a Savior. Born a sinner. Not because of something you chose, but because that’s the condition you inherited. And then you’re told there is a way out… but you have to find it.

The clues are there, we’re told:

Scripture.

Sermons.

Missions.

The right prayer, said the exact right way.

Some people seem to piece it together quickly. Others take a bit longer due to misunderstandings, misreading clues or just overwhelm from all the chaos. And some never feel sure they’ve solved it at all.

The stakes, according to the way I saw things, couldn’t be higher. Some escape. Some don’t. And the result of not figuring it out is horrific: the trap door opens and you fall into the flames of a fiery hell to be punished for all of eternity. 

For a long time, I accepted this framework without question. I tried hard. I studied. I prayed and fasted. I believed sincerely and taught others faithfully. And still, there was always a quiet fear in the background: What if I missed something? What if I misunderstood the clues?

Then I started noticing something Jesus said. And He said it more than once:

“I desire mercy, not sacrifice.”

He said it to people who were certain they had the system figured out. These were people who believed God primarily cared about right belief, right behavior, and right answers.

And that’s where it began to unravel for me.

Because escape rooms are built on effort and accuracy. They reward those who figure out the clues correctly before time runs out.

Mercy feels different.

Mercy doesn’t depend on intelligence, timing, upbringing, or access to the right information. Mercy meets people where they are.

So I find myself wondering: What did Jesus mean when he said this? Why would He sacrifice Himself after He made it clear that’s not what God desired?

What if He wasn’t offering us better clues to escape? What if He was inviting us to trust that God was never standing outside the room, watching whether or not we could find the truth before time ran out? 

From the perspective I used to believe, God already knew from the beginning whether we’d figure it out or not, so why would He stick us in the room anyway? Was it to watch us squirm? Was it to watch us fail? What on earth did all of this mean?

Jesus didn’t just teach new ideas, He just reframed old ones.

“You’ve heard it said… but I tell you…”

He said this again and again. Not to disregard or throw away Scripture, but to reveal its heart. To show that what people thought they knew about God had been filtered through fear, power, and control.

And then he said something even more powerful:

“If you’ve seen me, you’ve seen the Father.”

That line won’t let me go.

Because when I look at Jesus, I don’t see a tyrant.

I don’t see an angry God demanding payment.

I don’t see vengeance or violence or divine impatience.

I see mercy lived out.

I see compassion in the middle of punishment.

I see love refusing to keep a record of wrongs.

And I hear him say, plainly and without apology:

“I desire mercy, not sacrifice.”

From where I’m standing now, it seems possible that the problem was never God’s nature, but the way we were taught to see God. Maybe what we once called holiness was fear. Maybe what we once called justice was control. Maybe we mistook severity for strength.

What if Jesus didn’t come to correct God’s anger? What if He came to correct our understanding of who God really is?

One more thing He said that grabs my heart: 

“I came to testify to the truth.”

What if He came to show us the truth that God’s desire was never blood, suffering, or sacrifice? What if God just desired people who love well, show mercy freely, and walk humbly with one another and their God?

If Jesus is the clearest picture we have of God (and He says He is), perhaps we should look at the life of Jesus to figure out who God really is. Our understanding of Him shapes not only our outlook in eternity, but our ability to connect with God, love others, and be present in each moment here and now. 

If I’m honest, I’ve never been very good at escape rooms, and the anxiety I feel when I’m in one is overwhelming as people are scrambling around, yelling out clues and trying hard to beat the clock. It makes me retreat inward, and dulls my ability to enjoy the people I’m in the room with. Our entire goal is escaping, not connection.

I did finally escape the room I was in, though. And I realized, God never stuck me in that room — religion did. 

And now that I’m free, I’m not searching for clues or frantically watching the clock. I’m learning to live the kind of life Jesus pointed to all along: one shaped by mercy, love, and humility.

One Word - Follow

‘Follow’ is not a trendy word, unless it’s on social media

To follow is not an ambitious admired way to live

It doesn’t photograph well. Following does not make you look good

It won’t impress anyone other than the one who checks to see if you are following

But do they really cares not followers?

Jesus said ‘follow me’

His way is far different than other kingdoms, empiresor projects

It requires attention. The angels declared ‘Behold!’ A different agenda was announced, 

Jesus said to seek His kingdom, His righteousness, His will  

He did not suggest, or advise, but commanded

To follow is to be all in, the benefit is to not be lacking. 

To not want anything else requires self denial. 

Following is surrender of the self

Jesus is the leader. His way requires effort, initiative  

It’s the choice of each person to grasp the all in invitation  

To follow has no guarantee to be pain free, problem free, predicament free

It may involve trauma, crisis and chaos

To follow means to trust Him, regardless of the issue

Even in the crisis, He will restore, renew, and strengthen

To follow is to be internally strong  - acknowledging the strength is His presence

Knowing His strength in us is threatening to the enemy, bringing accusations of weakness, nonsense, and dependence

Wandering off path brings weakness, confusion, anemia, atrophy

To follow Jesus is to discover that our Triune God is already at work, networking factors unseen to teach us that He loves us

To follow Jesus gives us wisdom, empowering us to count our days for Him

Following Jesus has convinced me that this life is short, eternity is long

Following is discovering that I do not control outcomes

Releasing my need to manipulate or put a spin on my story

Following is trusting His unconditional love, testing in my Father’s care as His beloved

Grasping that He is gentle, patient, generous, and most of all, loving

Following is cultivating the soil in my soul holds possibility  

Following cultivates the soil nutrients for growth  

A tiny mustard seed springs roots of faith hope and love

Past wounds, regrets, and grief are healed in His love

Our scars and limps transform our character into His likeness

Following His way does not earn a better status, but brings honor to His love and invitation

Our wounds are treated by the Great Physician

Our turmoil is calmed by the Prince of peace

Our lack of stability is ruled by the King of kings 

Our loneliness is resolved by being adopted into the family of our ABBA Father

Our longing and yearning find belonging in Hos kingdom

Our story is already unfolding.we are eternal beings learning to follow the Shepherd

Following involves one step at a time, one day at a time, one moment a time

Following is simple but the hardest thing we do

Following Him trusting that He will dhow up, comforting our grief, holding us when we feel like falling

Following is learning to listen for His gentle voice, waiting, developing acute discernment to His voice

Following is watching, waiting, looking for His kingdom opportunities, 

Following is leaving the desire for my own illusion of my kingdoms of power, possessions and prestige

Trusting His lead is forgetting to calculate comparisons, charts, living by formulas

Following is being blind to boundaries of culture, background, handicaps, deficiencies

Trusting His Grace and mercy for the journey, anticipating His expanding longdom to be hlobal, yet intimately personal

Following is learning to be a learner, discovering new mercies for each new challenge

Learning from those who have gone before us  

Following becomes a rhythm of practice, filtering out distractions and noise

Trusting that slowing down is healthy for our soul, staying distant from the life of hurry

Following is to stay in His presence, attached to His love

Grasping to His calm, steady, safe protection

Following is facing the enemy within and around us

Discerning wolves that look like sheep in the flock

Realizing that the Lion of Judah lives in our hearts, 

Following is trusting the words of Scripture, knowing that the word knows us better than we know ourselves

Abiding, living in the quiet truth hidden in our hearts

Following is learning to live chin above all else, learning to love others as He loves

Seeking to be transparent, vulnerable, reflecting the Light of truth, goodness and beauty  

We tend what we attend to.

What we give our attention to:

our bodies, our relationships, our communities, our interior lives, 

slowly takes shape. 

Not all at once. 

Not dramatically. 

But faithfully.

This year, I want to attend differently.

Less rushing.

Less performing.

Less proving.

More listening.

More noticing.

More staying with what is fragile and unfinished.

Tenderness is not weakness

Tend is inseparable from tenderness.

Tenderness is strength that has refused to harden.

It’s love that has learned restraint.

It’s courage that no longer needs armor.

In a world that trains us to move on quickly, tenderness stays.

This year, I want my life to grow softer, not smaller, but truer.

Less defended.

More open.

Tend is the work of a Haven

As our church moves toward becoming a Haven, 

this word feels less like a plan and more like a gift.

A haven isn’t something you build once.

It’s something you maintain.

A haven is kept safe by attention.

It’s sustained by care.

It remains a refuge only as long as it is tended.

That feels like the truest work of the church right now, 

not fixing the world, 

not saving it through force or certainty, 

but tending life with love.

A quiet intention for the year

So this is my intention:

To tend my body with patience.

To tend relationships with care.

To tend grief without rushing it.

To tend my work without squeezing the life out of it.

To tend my faith without forcing answers.

To trust that God is already here.

And that faithful presence is enough.

If you’re carrying a word this year, 

I hope it meets you gently.

And if you’re not

maybe this is a season to let a word find you.

For me, this year isn’t about doing more.

It’s about tending what has already been entrusted to me.

———-

 Tend is not a flashy word

It’s not ambitious.

It doesn’t photograph well.

It won’t impress anyone.

Tend is the word of gardeners and nurses.

Of shepherds and parents.

Of people who show up again tomorrow.

Tending is repetitive.

It’s slow.

It requires attention.

And that’s exactly why it feels like the right word for me.

Tend assumes God is already at work

This is what finally convinced me.

Tending does not assume I am the healer.

It assumes God is already present.

The soil already holds possibility.

The wound already carries the work of healing.

The story is already unfolding.

My task is not to control outcomes or rush growth.

My task is simpler and harder:

To show up.

To pay attention.

To stay.

What we attend to, we tend

There’s a quiet truth hidden in this word.

We tend what we attend to.

What we give our attention to:

our bodies, our relationships, our communities, our interior lives, 

slowly takes shape. 

Not all at once. 

Not dramatically. 

But faithfully.

This year, I want to attend differently.

Less rushing.

Less performing.

Less proving.

More listening.

More noticing.

More staying with what is fragile and unfinished.

Tenderness is not weakness

Tend is inseparable from tenderness.

Tenderness is strength that has refused to harden.

It’s love that has learned restraint.

It’s courage that no longer needs armor.

In a world that trains us to move on quickly, tenderness stays.

This year, I want my life to grow softer, not smaller, but truer.

Less defended.

More open.

Tend is the work of a Haven

As our church moves toward becoming a Haven, 

this word feels less like a plan and more like a gift.

A haven isn’t something you build once.

It’s something you maintain.

A haven is kept safe by attention.

It’s sustained by care.

It remains a refuge only as long as it is tended.

That feels like the truest work of the church right now, 

not fixing the world, 

not saving it through force or certainty, 

but tending life with love.

A quiet intention for the year

So this is my intention:

To tend my body with patience.

To tend relationships with care.

To tend grief without rushing it.

To tend my work without squeezing the life out of it.

To tend my faith without forcing answers.

To trust that God is already here.

And that faithful presence is enough.

If you’re carrying a word this year, 

I hope it meets you gently.

And if you’re not

maybe this is a season to let a word find you.

For me, this year isn’t about doing more.

It’s about tending what has already been entrusted to me.

- Paul Dazet

“Lord,” I pray, “I cannot do this on my own. I need You to do what I cannot do. Take hot coals of fire and place them upon my heart. Let my heart burn—not with emotion, but with the sound of Your voice. Guide my pen today” - Steve Porter

https://open.substack.com/pub/morningglorydevo/p/the-one-god-looks-toward?r=43vew&utm_medium=ios&shareImageVariant=overlay