This is an excerpt from the introduction of Stretched: A Study for Lent and the Entire Christian Life by Christopher Richmann (1517 Publishing, 2026).
We can bring our troubles, griefs, sorrows, and sins to Jesus, who meets us smack dab in the middle of our messy mob.
Confession isn’t a detour in the liturgy. It’s the doorway.

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The Christian must always remember that personal piety and liturgical uniformity are by no means the marks of true religion.
In Christ, this world’s never-children are his always-children, because he isn’t a God of death, after all.
Moltmann is gone now, but his theology will continue to provoke and provide.
God does not give us an undebatable answer to suffering. Instead, God suffers, too.
In our catastrophes - whatever they may be, however large or small they are - we cry out for rescue, deliverance, and salvation.
Instead of a death sentence, those brothers hear the words of deliverance.
Five promises were seemingly all those apostles, staring into the sky, had to go on. Five promises that were more than enough.
The lack of history surrounding Psalm 130 allows it to endure as universally appealing even for our seasons of hopelessness and despair when we’re in “the depths.”
For you who are struggling to navigate grief, to cope with pain, or breathe through anxiety, the gospel announces that there is a person whose heart throbs for you.
For Paul, the hope of the resurrection was the ultimate antidote whenever his circumstances tempted him to despair or to "lose heart."
You are the baptized, for in Christ we are all wet. The demographic dividers are washed away.
This article is written by guest contributor, Aaron Boerst