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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This article is part of Stephen Paulson’s series on the Psalms.
In the Bible, we meet the God who also does not prance around naked as a jaybird.
God’s headline for his church prioritizes the person of Jesus and his purpose to demonstrate God’s power by dying and rising again for our salvation.
It is Jesus himself who is the ladder by which sinners get to God, not by them climbing up but by God climbing down.
It is your privilege—we may even say “right”—to call upon this Father and to call him Father.
We can do nothing to warrant entry into the kingdom of God nor are we getting in if we think a seat at God’s table is something to which we are entitled.
The gospel is for sinners – both the tax collector and Pharisee, both in need of the Great Physician.
The profound significance of Christ’s resurrection comes from the threefold justification it provides: it justifies the sinner, the sinner’s hope, and God himself.
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.”
Some part of us always wants our ability under the law to be just as important (or more) than grace.
The notion that your goodness is “good enough” to make you right with God is a lie straight from the father of lies himself.
Applying the pressure of law to ensure you do not to take grace for granted squeezes the life and power out of the gospel.