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(Mark 13:21–22; 2 Thessalonians 2:1–12 — NASB 1995) There’s a kind of shaking that doesn’t come from earthquakes.It comes from the screen. A clip that feels too perfect.A “prophecy” that lands too precisely.A voice that sounds familiar—because it was built from someone familiar. The sea hasn’t changed.But the fog has. And when fog rolls in, sailors don’t steer by shimmer on the waves.They steer by the compass. Paul knew that…
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“And He said to them, ‘When I sent you out without money belt and bag and sandals, you did not lack anything, did you?’ They said, ‘No, nothing.’ And He said to them, ‘But now, whoever has a money belt is to take it along, likewise also a bag, and whoever has no sword is to sell his coat and buy one. For I tell you that this which is…
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There are days my faith feels like a voyage—wind in the sails, waves beneath the hull, and an unseen destination drawing me forward. I look at the horizon of my own life and realize something sobering: I am always moving. The only question is toward what—and by what compass. Scripture does not invite us to drift. It commands us to draw near. “Let us then with confidence draw near to…
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Accessing the Divine Through Transcendence—Without Losing the Gospel There’s a reason a sailing ship at sea feels “spiritual” to so many of us. Alone on open water, under a sky that looks endless, you feel it: smallness, wonder, vulnerability, longing. The horizon is both invitation and warning. It calls you forward, but it also reminds you you’re not in control. That’s the pull of transcendence—the sense that reality is bigger…
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There are verses in Scripture that are easy to confess and harder to inhabit.Acts 2:38 has become one of those verses for me. “Repent, and each of you be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins; and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.” I don’t struggle to believe this verse is true.I struggle to understand how fully I have received what…
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It’s funny to imagine myself on my ship in a lounge with the Holy Spirit, discussing what martyrdom looks like for me in honor of the King—pipe in hand, coffee on the table—like we’re planning some noble saga together. It doesn’t feel enough to suffer as I am—not that I would wish disaster, disease, cancer, homelessness, familylessness, or godlessness upon myself. It’s just difficult to accept an “abundant life” while…
