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.

All Articles

I’m a drug addict. Specifically, a recovering drug addict. More specific, a grateful recovering drug addict.
When we talk about love then, let us not talk about ourselves.
We follow the example of creation and her Creator, wasting our love quite prodigally in fulfilling our callings, whether we’re thanked or spurned, applauded or ignored.
God goes to work on us through His Word like a woodcarver chisels a block of wood.
When God adds His promise to creation, we understand a greater reality than what we see: Light given; Light that sustains life; Light that will end up living in the midst of his people forever.
In him, retribution is set aside. Forgiveness comes. A new order begins. Remember that God’s mission will prevail, because grace is in, with, and under the fabric of human history.
Jesus lives amidst the twisted metal and smoking ruins of lives gone bad. It’s where he does his best work. Christ is the ultimate first responder.
Dual narratives are unfolding in our lives at every moment. There’s the story we’re writing, and the one penned by the Spirit.
In Adam and in us, life has been wrapped in death. But in Jesus, God has wrapped death in life.
But another possible translation for the Greek word we translate as ‘overcome’ and one maybe more consistent with the context is ‘comprehend.’
We are dangerously good at focusing on our exciting, or boring, walk of faith.
Only the poor are in need of a Savior, and only the dead need faith, hope, and love delivered to them by the hand of the Almighty.