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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Last year, a friend I follow tweeted, “Calling yourself a sinner is spitting on all the work that Jesus did to make you a saint.”
When it comes to faith, God runs all the verbs. God's Spirit calls us by the Gospel. He enlightens us with His gifts.
Among the things that perturb me about modern Christianity is our residual clinging to a sort of “Christian-karma.”
Far from being un-Christian like, the discipline and training that go into learning and practicing various martial arts can have direct application to the spiritual discipline needed for the Christian life of faith characterized by Israel.
The truth is, a Christian's holiness is hidden outside himself in Christ through faith.
Are our resolutions righteous? Is our commitment to self-improvement a selfless act motivated by love for the neighbor?
God spoke into the black depth. “Let there be light."
Is there no sweeter sound than Immanuel? Christ’s name, God with us. Those three words heal an ocean of hurts, give courage to the weakest heart, and lifts the head of the weariest pilgrim.
He created us with an eye on recreating us. He made humanity in his image because one day he would assume that image. The Creator would become a creature while remaining Creator.
So it is with my little garden as well; dead, so it would seem. Nothing. Barren.
This time of year, Christmas time, the world isn't so much Christ-expectant as it is Christ-haunted.
Old Adam's works are good because he says they're good. End of conversation.