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 isn't just "the reason for the season." He's the reason we don't have to cross off "spiritually bankrupt," "mentally compromised," and "physically vulnerable" from our Christmas list.
Our brokenness cuts deeper than just the times when we recognize it needs to be fixed.
Our actions, moral choices, appearance, definitions of family and friendship are all defined by how we see ourselves in relation to the question, "Am I good enough?"
It seems too good to be true, and yet it is the truest of all truths. This is our God. This God sees and chooses to trample our sins under his feet.
The Son of Eve disarmed Satan’s hold on humanity, not with an earthquake, atomic bomb, or brilliant essay, but with his dead body and final words, “It is finished.”
The problem is not that we are unrepentant. The problem is our contrition is too small.
We long for the Great Thanksgiving that hasn’t happened yet.
To pray that God’s name is hallowed among us is to pray for the continual proclamation of the gospel in truth and purity that we would hear the word about Christ crucified for sinners.
When we look to Jesus nailed up on that cross, that's God's final goodbye to our sin-blasted survival methods. No more unanswered questions. No more long goodbyes.
Here is truly illustrated the truth that no one comes to Christ except the Father draw him; and with what power, what delicious sweetness, the Father allures!
God comes to fix what is broken by being broken himself. He abolishes death by dying. He subsumes sin by being made sin itself.
When we ask ourselves, "My God, how did I get so lost," he answers, "I am the God who comes to seek and save the lost in the power of my resurrection.