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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When anything other than the gospel of Christ crucified for sinners becomes the center of the parables, we exchange the Gospel for the law.
What I have come to see is that while anyone can make a conscious decision to walk away from God or deny him, a person can’t accidentally lose his or her salvation.
The monsters we fight against and the monsters we become are drowned in the blood of the Lamb. Jesus' death, and the power of his resurrection, restore our humanity.
Ashes and dust do not need the services of spiritual EMTs; we need a Second Adam from whom we regain life itself.
Jesus sits by the well as a shepherd, coming to offer this woman a life-giving stream.
Into our world of sin, broken hearts, physical ailments, and psychological suffering, our Lord of grace descended.
Christ teaches that we are not lost, but have eternal life. That God has so loved us that he allowed the ransom to cost him his only beloved child.
When talking about God’s ultimate destination for us, we’ve grown sloppy in our language, nearsighted in our gaze, and un-Easter in our hope. We act and speak as if dying and going to heaven is what the faith is all about. It is most emphatically not.
Where our sins are forgiven, there God in Christ is to be found.
God and love are synonymous. Any talk about love that is not talk about Jesus is, at most, a half-truth.
Jesus promises to work for you, forgiving your sins, but He also promises to work through you, forming you into a witness to the world.
The original sin of Genesis 3 was not gutter-style-sin, but glory-style-sin. It was more of an upward grasp than a downward fall. - Nathan Hoff