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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I had been taught and believed in a God who is love, but as I walked outside that night I did not see him. I saw the stars and I felt their indifference.
Jesus does not say to us, “Try really hard, and you will be better.”
He calls us to suffer as Christ suffered. That is, we are to suffer in service to our neighbor even if they caused the injustice.
I wish I was better at seeing the bigger picture. Or maybe, I wish I was simply better at seeing the larger scope of its beauty.
Rather than validate our selfish, self-serving choices, he justifies us by giving us new life and baptizing us into his death and resurrection.
We walk to the cross by the faith that God bestows on us, not by our own power, reason, or might.
After the glory of our flesh has gone the way of wilted grass and faded flowers, and we’ve long forgotten all our efforts at self-justification, the word of the Lord remains.
The distinction between Christ-for-you and Christ-in-you can present a misleading dichotomy.
Jesus and the New Testament—good. Yahweh and the Old Testament—not really so good. So goes the popular, but largely whispered, dichotomy.
The focus of 1 Peter on baptism is one that has puzzled many people.
Jesus doesn’t talk about God’s love for us; he embodies it.
The Holy Spirit is not ours to hunt down; rather, we are the ones relentlessly pursued by the word of Christ.