Category Archives: friendship

worth the drive: how we protect the Body when the battlefield is silent

Posted on by July 17, 2026

We packed the Jeep with our gear for the day, and Vin turned on the ignition. Country music blared suddenly from the speakers, and several of us jumped – including me, and I was the one who left it that loud.

“Sorry guys,” I said, turning it down. “I went to Grandma’s last night.” Meaning I drove home with all the feelings and tried to drown them in volume.

worth the drive: how we protect the Body when the battlefield is silent || Shannon Guerra at Copperlight Wood

The Jeep has many assets, but with seven occupants, extra space is not one of them. So my floorboard was covered with essentials: purse, bookbag, extra shoes with extra socks, a small container of snacks. I held my jar of water in my lap (why do I not use a lidded water bottle like other grownups? I don’t know, just accept it and move on) and as I leaned down to grab my bag I forgot all about it and spilled a couple ounces on my lap.

Whoops, won’t do that again, I thought – though on a 75 degree Alaskan day, it actually felt pretty good.

But just five seconds later I did do it again when I reached for something else. This time fourteen ounces whooshed down my legs, all around the seat, into my purse…but mostly into a side pocket that was full of partially used tissues and a couple of ancient-yet-remarkably-absorbent receipts, because that’s how moms roll.

Menopause is something else, I tell ya.

But it wasn’t just me that day. Vin was talking about the landmarks on this road and how to find the turn we needed: You look for the long flat building, and the bent mushing sign, and the pond on the —

“Aaand, I missed it,” he said, realizing we were much further down the road, accidentally on the way to a different friend’s house.

Just so we’re all on the same page here, he’s not going through menopause.

He said it’s the leaves; there weren’t leaves on the trees when we made this drive last time, in early spring.

A couple days later on another drive, I was on my way home from Grandma’s again. All the feelings again. Always wondering if this was the last visit.

I hadn’t cried in weeks; we had a lull of sorts once she was finally adjusting. Things were looking up in so many ways that it was easier to forget this is still a short timeline and we don’t know when it ends.

She still changes every week but those changes are different – not as angry or sad anymore, so that’s a huge relief, but others that mean more decline. More confused. More tired. More in and out of consciousness and reality.

The sky was a million shades of silvery blue over a million shades of green as I drove home. I flipped the blinker at an intersection and noticed that Grandma’s hair tie – the one a nurse had pulled her hair back with, but Grandma wanted it out because she never wears her hair in a ponytail and was a little scandalized to realize it was in one, no matter how cute we told her it was – anyway, the hair tie was still on my wrist, next to the bracelet she bought me in Ireland that I wear most days lately.

According to that nurse, Grandma had slept a lot that evening even after sleeping most of the day. I sat next to her, and her head kept leaning against mine as she drifted in and out.

These are precious, thick, persevering days. Sometimes it’s just her and me, and sometimes it’s my uncles, too, when our visits overlap. We share life updates and memories aloud, and patient grief and concern in silent looks.

There are so many things we are not saying, that we don’t know how to say.

Some of it doesn’t need to be said because we know; we already know about the grief and the flesh that is raw in some places and weathered tough in others. What we don’t always know is where those tender spots are, in ourselves or others, so we are tentative lest we do damage.

It’s one of those seasons that demand a dramatic soundtrack but instead it’s filled with these quiet evenings, conversations and hugs with nurses, small talk scattered amid end of life discussions and daily care. I could hear another resident breathing in a way that sounded like her last, but the nurse assured me it’s normal.

Or, normal for now. Relatively, for this stage.

It is a season of ragged breathing, and it’s not just on this front, in this home. It’s also in our own home with kids and their decisions, and in other parts of our community with families in crisis, and loved ones battling for their mental health, and some making choices that don’t even have that excuse, and also, so many things in our house suddenly demanding expensive repairs.

Life is a war zone with skirmishes happening on several fronts, and many of them are silent, under the radar.

Some of them, in my life and yours, we don’t talk about openly because we know all too well about drawing fire, even from those on the same side. We know how people can take aim and still miss the mark, even when they mean well…and not all of them do.

If we’re not abiding, we’ll miss the Lord’s direction and shoot at anything that moves or makes noise. When we do that, we often hit someone who’s on our side, just trying to figure out their next move forward while quietly enduring the present onslaught.

If it’s felt like your home, family, church, workplace, or neighborhood is a battleground, it is: The Kingdom-minded believer is either taking ground, losing ground, or holding their ground.

We’re not really talking about physical land, of course, and we’re definitely not talking about political boundaries. That’s a “look here, not there” tactic of the enemy, and too many have been falling for it. Not to get too woo on you, but let’s be real — most of the battle is on another plane, and what we see is not all there is.

God put this power to work in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places, far above all rule and authority and power and dominion and above every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the age to come.

— Ephesians 1:20-21

The non-physical ground we’re claiming starts within our own heart, our own personal clean-up operation – throwing open all the doors, letting the Spirit blow through and find anything we’ve avoided for so long that we’ve become seared or numbed to it.

See that you do not refuse the one who is speaking, for if they did not escape when they refused the one who warned them on earth, how much less will we escape if we reject the one who warns from heaven!

At that time his voice shook the earth, but now he has promised, “Yet once more I will shake not only the earth but also the heaven.” This phrase, “Yet once more,” indicates the removal of what is shaken—that is, created things—so that what cannot be shaken may remain.

Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us show gratitude, by which we may offer to God an acceptable worship with reverence and awe, for indeed our God is a consuming fire.

— Hebrews 12:25-29

You’re already in the middle of the battlefield, but another blow comes: the news, the diagnosis, the estimate, the announcement, the disappointment, the explosion.

We feel numbness; it’s all too much. And then that weight in the chest, the pain in the throat. Swallowing. Blinking. Staring off into space. Everything blurs. Fear whistles overhead, and the ground around us shakes.

The enemy wants that territory back. He wants you to think you are losing ground. But —

Will you trust Me? the Lord says. Can you move through the next hour as though you know I’m already taking care of this?

My brothers and sisters, whenever you face various trials, consider it all joy, because you know that the testing of your faith produces endurance.

And let endurance complete its work, so that you may be complete and whole, lacking in nothing.

— James 1:2-4

He’s wanting us to gain ground here, but sometimes it’s just the smallest thing in the midst of everything else that sends us over the edge, and we wonder if it’s all over. We don’t think we can hold this ground, or get this back, or take one more surprise, or handle one more grief.

Several times in the last few weeks, I’ve been there. And the Lord met me there and said, I always defended, protected, and provided for the women who bowed at my feet.

Mary, sitting at His feet to learn in the room with the men when Martha demanded her help in the kitchen.

Mary again, breaking the expensive jar of oil and pouring her savings over Him, when others were indignant at what they thought was waste.

The woman caught in adultery, held to a double standard by a crowd hungry for her bloody death but apathetic about the man who was at least as guilty as she was — probably more so, since in that culture, he had status and protections she did not.

And Jesus’ own mother, when He was on the cross and she looked up at Him, her oldest son and provider. He assigned John to care for her from then on, and did not leave her defenseless.

He modeled it for us, because we also claim ground by helping others hold their own – by nurturing the hearts of those around us, loving the Body.

We are putting no obstacle in anyone’s way, so that no fault may be found with our ministry, but as servants of God we have commended ourselves in every way:

in great endurance, afflictions, hardships, calamities,
beatings, imprisonments, riots, labors, sleepless nights, hunger;
in purity, knowledge, patience, kindness, holiness of spirit, genuine love,
truthful speech, and the power of God;
with the weapons of righteousness for the right hand and for the left;
in honor and dishonor, in ill repute and good repute.

We are treated as impostors and yet are true,
as unknown and yet are well known,
as dying and look—we are alive,
as punished and yet not killed,
as sorrowful yet always rejoicing,
as poor yet making many rich,
as having nothing and yet possessing everything.

— 2 Corinthians 6:3-10

How do we love the Body? Love doesn’t move in self protection mode but moves on behalf of others, at our own expense.

Sacrifice, service, and leadership will cost us. It is the meal, the extra sweater in bad weather, the afternoon’s agenda swept aside to make room for what wasn’t scheduled but had to happen.

What agreement has the temple of God with idols? For we are the temple of the living God, as God said,

“I will live in them and walk among them,
and I will be their God,
and they shall be my people.”

— 2 Corinthians 6:16

When the Body gathers, we create sacred space. The body of believers is holy ground:

Again, truly I tell you, if two of you agree on earth about anything you ask, it will be done for you by my Father in heaven. For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.

— Matthew 18:19-20

This is where the battle is won.

It’s usually quiet though, without fanfare.

Your gentleness toward others and your effort to keep a tender heart rather than a seared conscience does violence to the enemy, and wrenches vast amounts of real estate from his grasp.

You must make every effort to support your faith with excellence,
and excellence with knowledge, and knowledge with self-control,
and self-control with endurance, and endurance with godliness,
and godliness with mutual affection, and mutual affection with love.

For if these things are yours and are increasing among you, they keep you from being ineffective and unfruitful in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ.

— 2 Peter 1:5b-8

Your effort to hold your tongue and wait, to let the other finish, to not rush to fill silence with noise – these are all such small moves of faith that take the land. It is what trust and humility look like, because we know the Lord is in our midst and we don’t have to do all the talking.

Superficial moments on the surface, but momentous underneath. These are the sweetest seasons happening in the deepest grief and need and concern: uncertainty about timing juxtaposed with the certainty of His goodness and protection, while we do not know what that goodness and protection will actually look like.

Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his power;

put on the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil, for our struggle is not against blood and flesh but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.

— Ephesians 6:10-12

We submit to the upheaval of routines because certain situations have taken vivid, sudden priority and they are worth flipping our days upside down for.

Like one Monday, when a text came in that was rapidly followed by a phone call from the nursing home. Urgent prayer over speaker phone while kids ran in and out of the house, and then were quickly ushered into one vehicle with Vin while I took the other on a rushed drive across town after peeling out of the driveway and almost taking out some wandering raspberries.

But she was okay. It wasn’t time yet. We still have work to do, hearts to tend, time to hold with an open hand.

So we are here in the midst of beauty in the chaos, steadiness in the uproar. We are watching for landmarks, not wanting to miss the turn when it comes.

The time together is worth the drive. Our fellowship retakes occupied territory: The roots that run deep, the arms that stretch wide, all the ways we care for each other. This is how we hold our ground, and how we gain it.

we, who are many: how we treat the body exposes who we are

Posted on by July 13, 2026

I now have a crown. Not the fun fancy kind, but the tooth kind.

It was a two-hour deal, so I set up the next module in a course I’m taking and plugged in my headphones, hoping I could focus on a teaching about Ephesians while I (mostly) ignored what the dentist was doing.

we, who are many: how we treat the body exposes who we are

After the first hour, phase one was done, and I removed my headphones as the dentist explained that we needed to wait a bit before finishing. They left me to my own devices until the next round.

My lecture had about twenty minutes left, so I started to put my headphones back in but realized I could no longer feel one side of my face.

Is this thing in, or not? I jabbed the headphone around, feeling nothing. My ear…is this my ear? Eventually I gave up and just used the other side.

It’s so weird though, not feeling your own body.

And later it was worse. As the numbness was wearing off, I felt a faint tingle and then a strong itch on my chin, but scratching it did absolutely nothing. No sensation there whatsoever, except the itch. I knew I couldn’t keep scratching; it didn’t do any good and I couldn’t trust myself not to draw blood.

All the restless, agitated feelings, and no idea what to do about them. This is a picture of life for some of us lately.

In that situation, I did all the things I could think of: essential oils, cold pack, held the mug of hot tea against my chin, prayed in tongues, wriggled my nose and made faces, whatever might distract me from the agony of an itch that couldn’t be scratched.

In other life situations, I have researched and studied, scoured listings and options, and prayed and prayed and prayed. Have had dozens, maybe a hundred conversations about recent events and life changing moves. And I have written thousands and thousands of words, but they’ve just sat in my documents. I could not trust myself to publish without drawing blood.

This is an odd season for us (maybe for you, too) where so many Big Things are happening, and some of them seem to be converging while others make no obvious sense at all. Emotions, thoughts, questions, and prayer flood into a bottleneck that has made it hard to write publicly because I don’t know where to start. Each thread seems so entangled with so many others. And many of them are none of the internet’s business.

(Ahh, the internet: That modern Colosseum where even Christians go to be entertained by the bleeding of their brothers and sisters.)

So I’ve sat at this computer for weeks trying to find a single theme among it all, among multiple documents and about twice as many subjects: Relationships. Community. Maturity. Honesty. Boundaries. Biblical literacy. Preparation. Willingness. Sacrifice.

Sometimes we just need to sit and wait until the numbness wears off. Until the debris settles, until the itch goes away.

Can we discipline ourselves to manage the frustration of not knowing what exactly to do, instead of thoughtlessly drawing blood? Because this is a major part of how we care for the body.

O our God, will you not execute judgment upon [our enemies]? For we are powerless against this great multitude that is coming against us. We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you.

– 2 Chronicles 20:12

Really, isn’t that good for us? I don’t want human answers, I need God’s perspective. We need Kingdom solutions.

So can we wait and trust, and not default to the insecurity of self-protection mode until we hear His answer? Can we worship Him instead of our own entitlement and comfort?

For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of yourself more highly than you ought to think but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned.

For as in one body we have many members and not all the members have the same function, so we, who are many, are one body in Christ, and individually we are members one of another.

– Romans 12:3-5

Here’s a word that some of us need to hear: God does not speak in knee-jerk responses. He doesn’t speak through trite cuts and condescension.

He did not protect himself at the expense of others. A bruised reed He will not break, and He will not rashly re-victimize the wounded.

When we do these things, we’re not acting like Him. We’re acting like someone who has no feeling for the body.

But Jesus knows how the body feels, because it is His body.

The eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you,” nor again the head to the feet, “I have no need of you.”

If one member suffers, all suffer together with it; if one member is honored, all rejoice together with it.

Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it.

– 1 Corinthians 12:21, 26-27

How do we care for the body when we know it’s vulnerable, and we’re in danger of drawing blood? Sometimes we are walking razor blades around people who are raw and wounded.

We cannot take someone who has shriveled into the fetal position and pry them open with a crowbar, however much we want to see them open up and live.

We cannot force someone to be who they truly are, to instantly overcome grief, trauma, aging, abuse, or disability. We cannot just tell them to do more and try harder and be like us, because they are not like us.

Or, maybe they are, but we don’t like to admit it. We’d rather think we’re smarter, tougher, stronger, better, more whole, more righteous. But what that really exposes is self-righteousness toward the broken.

We want to feel good about being benevolent, as long as it doesn’t cost us too much.

If we really want to be the Body, though, it will cost us everything. Time. Ease. Misunderstandings. Our sleep schedule. Our preconceived notions. And for sure, our pride.

Can we shift to boundaries for a minute? Because here we have tension and paradox: In one sense, we need to draw close to the hurting, and face all the awkward discomfort of doing so. But also, when the wounded are actively wounding others, we draw a line. Here, and no further.

In the Old Testament, I’ve worked my way to the middle of Joshua. Past the exciting parts, now it’s all about geography, territories, and boundaries.

Like so:

And their south boundary ran from the end of the Dead Sea, from the bay that faces southward; it goes out southward of the ascent of Akrabbim, passes along to Zin, and goes up south of Kadesh-barnea, along by Hezron, up to Addar, makes a turn to Karka…

– Joshua 15:2-3

Did you skim? If you did, you probably missed it. No shame, I’ve read this a couple dozen times and missed it, too.

But here’s what I noticed this time: Boundaries are detailed. They have nuance. Go up here, then follow along that ridge there, and make a turn to Karka…

We don’t just draw arbitrary lines or make categorical swaths of judgment. We don’t treat people according to templates and formulas. We must see people individually to see them rightly. If we don’t see individuals, we’re not looking at all.

When someone hurts us, we walk in love and forgiveness and we persist in keeping our heart for the other person. But we put space between us. Our pastor illustrated this recently in a way I’ll never forget.

“I’m not holding it against you,” he said, taking a step back. Another offense comes, and he repeated, “I’m not holding it against you,” taking another step back. If trust erodes, the space widens. We want the best for that person and we don’t delight in their misery, but there’s a boundary between us, and we can increase or decrease that space as needed.

Until we can see the Holy of Holies in each other and both treat each other with the honor that recognizes the sacred image bearer in each of us, that space will not diminish.

Sometimes people have a hard time acting like themselves because they don’t know – or they forgot – who they are. And if they don’t know themselves, they’re going to have a hard time treating others appropriately, too.

The grandmother with dementia. The young adult with brain injury. The insecure coworker. The grumpy teen who’s unsure of everything and everyone. The friend not acting like themselves lately.

I don’t know what causes it all. Too many things: Scar tissue. Numbness. Hardness. Parts of the body not responding the way they’re supposed to, because they’ve lost feeling in different areas.

Dear Christian, this is where we have to practice tender nuance with our fellow believers.

Boundaries with patience. A soft word that turns away wrath. A sense of humor that laughs without degrading.

We have to choose to see the Holy of Holies in the one who’s not acting like themselves and who they’re meant to be, however they’re behaving or reacting or surviving in this moment, in this season, at this age. We’re not in denial; they are. And it’s imperative that we don’t join them in that denial.

Beloved, did you forget you were made in His image? Worship is still happening day and night in the Temple. I wish you would sing again.

We cannot force it to happen. We have to be willing to wait, listen, abide, and admit our unknowing, while holding to the core of who we are:

By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.

— Jesus, in John 13:35

What about the weak, or the wounded, or the difficult? What about the ones who think differently than us, or challenge us? What about the one who can’t remember what season it is, or the one who claps during the wrong part of the church service, or the one who inconveniences our carefully polished image?

Can’t we just love those ones from a distance, and still pat ourselves on the back?

No.

On the contrary, the members of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, and those members of the body that we think less honorable we clothe with greater honor, and our less respectable members are treated with greater respect, whereas our more respectable members do not need this.

But God has so arranged the body, giving the greater honor to the inferior member, that there may be no dissension within the body, but the members may have the same care for one another.

— 1 Corinthians 12:22-25

How the body cares for each other is our message. This is who we are.

It may not be a flattering assessment. We need to check to see if we have feeling in all the right places.

Because loving the Body should cost us something, since it cost Him everything to add us to it.

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P.S. Related:

  • If you’re dealing with a lot of conflict lately, my friend Katie is doing a fabulous series on navigating difficult conversations. I especially loved this post and this post.
  • Want more on caring for the Body? I have more posts here  (or audio), here (or audio), and here (or audio), to start.

hard or easy: choosing humility & love over feelings & factions

Posted on by March 17, 2026

From his booster seat in the back, Kav asked, “Why are hard things actually good things?”

A light flashed in my mind, and I reminded myself that this kid just turned seven.

“What do you mean?”

“Because when you want to do a bad thing it’s easy…but good stuff is harder.”

“Huh. Like what?” I asked.

“I’ve got one,” Finn said. “It’s easy to punch someone when you really want to, but hard to resist.”

“Ohhh, self control. Yeah.”

“It’s easy to tell a lie, but harder to tell the truth–” Kav began.

“Because you want the easy way out,” Finn added.

“–and also, it’s easier to hit someone’s foot when you’re not very good at pogo sticking because you can’t really control the pogo stick very well yet,” Kav finished.

Right, all true. Good chat.

hard or easy: choosing humility and love over feelings and factions | Shannon Guerra @ Copperlight Wood

A major part of parenting is our constant effort to train our kids to choose right over wrong. The hard over the easy. The truth over the lie. Self control over lashing out. To choose to give someone space and get good at the pogo stick without smashing your brother’s foot.

This training doesn’t really end; it’s just that eventually we have to discipline ourselves to choose the hard over the easy. This is how maturity happens. Or, you know, it doesn’t.

Refusing the hard keeps us stuck. Staying still is easy, but moving forward – learning, growing, repenting, maturing, reconciling, forgiving, surrendering – those are hard.

And then there’s standing, which can mean a couple different things.

Are we standing down? Shrinking back? Or are we standing up, standing firm, standing for truth?

Standing is only a move forward if we’re doing it where the Lord has told us, in the way He’s told us, in what He’s actually said. Standing firm in our feelings, in bad teachings, in misplaced loyalties or in idolized traditions, will get us nowhere. That kind of standing is only staying stuck in stubborn pride.

Sometimes we tell ourselves we’re making a hard stand when we’re actually living in compromise. Because if someone’s hard stand in an area means they get to be a jerk, they’re not standing for anything; they’re making excuses for poor character.

We have to be savvy to the elements used to blind, delude, and divide us. In times of emotional uproar (and 2026 is looking pretty parallel to 2020 in this respect), if we find ourselves running quick to arguing, fault-finding, nitpicking, engaging in gossipy backroom chats, or holding offense against those we disagree with, it’s time to take a step back.

If you find yourself making knee-jerk reactions (and it takes humility to recognize it), detach for a minute. Ask Holy Spirit how He sees this, and what He wants you to see. There are a lot of things happening and we cannot afford to let the enemy direct our attention.

Now the works of the flesh are obvious: sexual immorality, impurity, debauchery, idolatry, sorcery, enmities, strife, jealousy, anger, quarrels, dissensions, factions, envy, drunkenness, carousing, and things like these.

I am warning you, as I warned you before: those who do such things will not inherit the kingdom of God.

– Galatians 5:19-21

If we’re are all up in arms and up in our feelings over issues that suddenly matter more than the people we’re talking to, it’s time for the hard reset of repentance.

All winter I’ve been shivering in my upstairs office. It’s been about 58 degrees when I get to the desk, but with a hoodie and hot tea and the space heater running, it’s been doable.

Still, it was freezing up here for months and we finally realized it wasn’t just the constant storms or the drafty windows. We’ve had repairs off and on, and last summer when the last one was made, the company recommended we switch out the entire system.

Their estimate? Almost $19,000. And no, that wouldn’t cover drywall repair, cleaning, psychotherapy, or heart attacks.

But they were the last guys who were here, so we called them again to see if they could just come check this upstairs zone to fix it. They said no, they won’t come out to check the thermostats, or pumps, or anything. They would only come if we wanted to replace the entire system. In January, in Alaska.

Were they standing their ground? Yes.

Was it stupid? Also yes.

It was sort of like, No, we won’t look at nutrition or therapy or adjusting medications or exercise or any of those other paltry fixes; let’s just jump to surgery because you’re desperate and too sick to think clearly about other options, anyway. That’ll be $20K plus anesthesia, thanks. Ka-ching.

Umm…no thanks.

Is generalizing really easier? Or is it only easy for the person who profits from it?

Wisdom observes nuance and the big picture, rather than taking a postage stamp-sized surface knowledge and applying it with a broad brush of ignorant assumptions and appraisals.

By contrast, the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. There is no law against such things.

And those who belong to Christ have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires.

If we live by the Spirit, let us also be guided by the Spirit.

Let us not become conceited, competing against one another, envying one another.

– Galatians 5:22-26

One of our tendencies as humans is to generalize. We put people in categories: These ones I agree with, these ones I don’t. Boxes are easy. And oh boy, the complications that ensue when a person doesn’t fit cleanly into them, or surprises us.

In truth, most of us don’t fit perfectly into the categories of each other’s making. “Are you pro-This, or anti-That? Are you on my side, or theirs? Where do you stand so I know where to put you?”

These are the wrong questions to ask.

Once when Joshua was by Jericho, he looked up and saw a man standing before him with a drawn sword in his hand. Joshua went to him and said to him, “Are you one of us or one of our adversaries?”

He replied, “Neither, but as commander of the army of the Lord I have now come.”

– Joshua 5:13-14a

Fortunately, there are a lot of right questions we can ask, and should be asking. What do you think about this? How are you doing? How is your heart these days? How is the pogo sticking going?

Without questions like these – which reveal a heart that cares, and honors the image of God in the other person – we skip over the hard work of seeing people and situations rightly, and jump right to the easy work of stuffing them into our mental boxes.

Part of the problem comes when someone makes a specific statement we disagree with, and then we misapply that specific statement to a much broader swath of things that we also disagree with.

We’ve seen this on social media since the very beginning: Someone shares their aversion to broccoli, and someone else jumps to, “Ohh, so you hate all vegetables?!” Or you mention your love for apples, and they respond, “Why all the hate for oranges?” But these responses aren’t just a vegan, blue-haired, liberal issue. (See? More categories!)

They’re a fleshy human nature issue, because we like to do the easy thing, not the hard thing. And it’s easy to be run by our emotions, jump to conclusions, and accuse others of extremes. But constructive discussion doesn’t happen in that environment. Foolishness and damage does.

If we take that easy route, we tend to progress into labeling and blaming, making accusations and judgments and blanket statements (more generalizing) that aren’t based on fact but on our feelings, because we feel threatened or angry or superior toward the other person thinking differently from us.

Then, instead of bringing people closer together, closer to truth or to God, the enemy uses us to create divisions and strife, all while feeling right and self righteous.

We back further into our own side, and our generalizations push the other person in the opposite direction, because disrespect doesn’t convince anyone that we’re right. It just tells them we’re no fun to be around, because no one wants their foot crushed by someone who, however well-meaning, can’t control their pogo stick.

How about we look at people with love and humility, allowing them to live in the same nuance and complexity that we ourselves do?

How about we look at issues diagnostically, instead of demanding a broad brush solution?

The week after that heating company gave us their ultimatum, a guy from a different company came, looked at the situation, and replaced a pump. We saved $18,573 by switching to Geico because someone was willing to look at the specific issue, rather than demanding to throw the entire thing out and replace it.

What kind of atmosphere are our words and attitudes creating? Do they cool the room? Divide? Dehumanize? Make you feel superior? Keep you thinking critically of others, instead of using critical thinking? (Important reminder: Critical thinking and walking in a spirit of criticism are quite different, and they are diametrically opposed to each other.)

Do you imagine, whoever you are, that when you judge those who do such things and yet do them yourself, you will escape the judgment of God?

Or do you despise the riches of his kindness and forbearance and patience?

Do you not realize that God’s kindness is meant to lead you to repentance?

But by your hard and impenitent heart you are storing up wrath for yourself on the day of wrath, when God’s righteous judgment will be revealed.

– Romans 2:3-5

The kids and I have been reading the book of Mark together, and we take it in small bits at a time. Today was the story of Jesus calling Levi, a tax collector, to follow Him.

Shocking! I mean, didn’t Jesus know that Levi was a jerk?

Whatever, they had dinner at his house that night, anyway…with a bunch of other jerks. And then this happens:

When the scribes of the Pharisees saw that he was eating with sinners and tax collectors, they said to his disciples, “Why does he eat with tax collectors and sinners?” [Emphasis mine, but it lends to the drama if you read that in a gossipy, Valley-girl accent.]

When Jesus heard this, he said to them, “Those who are well have no need of a physician but those who are sick; I have not come to call the righteous but sinners.”

– Mark 2:16-17

They launch right into a discussion about fasting, which might be separated by a section heading in your translation, but try to ignore it because we’re still in the same scene. Then Jesus gives us a brief sewing lesson (ha, here) before ending the scene with this:

Similarly, no one puts new wine into old wineskins; otherwise, the wine will burst the skins, and the wine is lost, and so are the skins, but one puts new wine into fresh wineskins.

– Mark 2:22

What is happening here? Without going into a whole science lesson, new wine grows (ferments) and it needs to be received by a vessel that will also grow with it.

Remember how Jesus just said it is not the righteous He came to call, but the sinners? The righteous were done growing, self-satisfied with their standing and their preconceived notions.

But Jesus wanted to pour into those who were willing to grow and change. And that was His mic drop.

Being willing to grow is hard, though, yes? It’s so much easier to resort to legalism or fear of man, to make categorical judgments and knee-jerk reactions, rather than recognizing details and understanding nuance.

We have a hard time changing our minds. And when we claim a loyalty to a person, cause, or ideology, we tend to dig in our heels the more proof we are given. At that point, it’s less about being right and more about being unwilling to admit we’ve been wrong.

We saw this constantly in 2020 with masks, election fraud, and PCR tests. We saw it with dozens of things then and we still see it today, on both sides, when people selectively ignore the truth of the Bible, or the Constitution, or other inconvenient realities that refute what they’ve always believed.

Going with the flow of the current thing is easy. Standing up to it is hard. Ignoring is easy. Learning is hard.

But is God God, or are our preconceived notions god? It can’t be both. Jesus is in the business of making us like Him, not the other way around.

We’re talking about repentance, of course.

If you have to forgive people for having different opinions and beliefs from you, that might be a sign of pride, not actually forgiveness. Can we be honest about that?

We don’t forgive beliefs, but how people act out those beliefs. In which case, the believer who should know better but acts out badly is more in the wrong than the unbeliever acting out rightly. Yes, we’re justified by faith, not works, but if our behavior doesn’t line up with our faith, we’re just making noise.

If I speak in the tongues of humans and of angels but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.

– 1 Corinthians 13:1

Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore, love is the fulfilling of the law.

– Romans 13:10

Repentance is the only thing that washes clean, recalibrates, and puts things (and ourselves, and our hearts) back in order.

God always has the right of way. We must be reconciled to it.

All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and has given us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us.

So we are ambassadors for Christ, since God is making his appeal through us;
we entreat you on behalf of Christ: be reconciled to God.

– 2 Corinthians 5:18-20

Can we lay our pride, stubbornness, and fear of man on the altar? If we can’t do that, we have no business asking the lost to repent and surrender, either.

The change in our minds forces pruning in our character, and exposes other things we’ve been comfortable with…and it forces growth (which is good) but it often feels like regression because we’re seeing things more realistically and things were easier in our old ways and our old ignorance.

Good news, though: We don’t lose authority when we accept the Lord’s correction. We don’t lose ground, we gain it. If we can’t accept His correction, we weren’t carrying authority anyway; we were bluffing.

The enemy wants to divide in anyway he can. So don’t let him do it between you and other believers who see things differently, have different backgrounds, and get information from different places. He wants us to see people in labels and categories, not as real people who are complex beings made in the image of God.

Can we make it part of our mission this year to not allow 2026 to regress into 2020? To not lose years of growth by regressing into easy knee-jerk assumptions and categorizations? Can we be more mature this year than we were last year, regardless of the headlines and media manipulation? Because we’ve got real things happening in our own homes, in our own families, and I’m telling you, you don’t have time for this nonsense.

We need to be watching each other’s back, not stabbing each other in the back.

Jesus, help us to be in your word so we know, and put Your Word in us so we act it out.

May this be a season where Christians rise up and refine, rather than degrade and disintegrate.

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