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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Jesus, the Son of God from all eternity, the agent of creation, the Savior of all people, promises to abide IN His people.
I am cognizant of the powerful lessons for life I owe to those nights in the air-raid shelter.
God will give you more than you can handle. But he doesn’t leave you alone. Not at all.
The reason the mind is endlessly troubled about God predestining everything is the vague generalization. Generalizations are cold as ice, without the warm Christ.
Instead of providing a way out, the LORD gave Elijah a way through, which included the calling of Elisha as his apprentice.
The baptized, those rescued and redeemed by God’s grace alone through faith in Jesus Christ alone, are given an entirely new life to live, an entirely new way to walk.
Jesus promises more than a disembodied “spiritual” existence after death. He has promised to raise our perishable, mortal bodies to immortality.
The Psalms aren’t the clandestine successes of a faithful soul, but are the journaled hopes of a desperate soul — of one teetering on the edge of oblivion.
We are not saved by the success of our refining process. We are saved precisely because our impurities, no matter what the percentage, ruin the whole thing.
The Church is where God has instituted the office of the preacher of the gospel. And if you are let-down, the gospel is what you need to hear.
This tiny rural church would bulge at the seams with worshipers from realms seen and unseen, all mixed together in the adoration of the Lamb.
The presence of the Glory Cloud at the presentation of the manna makes clear who is providing this meal.