Tag: Faith

The Need to Remarry Every Day

.Reading time 14 minutes.

By Lewis & Linda McLain (after 60 years), Assisted by AI

Marriage begins in radiance. Most of us can still picture that day—the nervous glances down the aisle, the joy in the faces of family and friends, the music rising as if the world itself paused to bless this covenant. The vows spoken then carry the sound of eternity: promises to love, to honor, to cherish, to remain faithful “for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health.” In those moments, dreams were unclouded. We imagined a life woven together in harmony, our future children, our shared home, our journey of growing old side by side.

And in 1966, The Beach Boys gave voice to that very longing with their iconic song Wouldn’t It Be Nice. It was the anthem of courtship dreams—“Wouldn’t it be nice if we were older, if tomorrow could start today?” For many couples, it became the soundtrack of first dates, long drives, and handwritten letters. The melody wasn’t just music; it was the hope of what love could become.

But dreams, no matter how sincere, eventually meet reality.

The Ups and Downs of Real Life

The truth of marriage is not just the wedding day, but every day that follows. Bills pile up, children cry in the night, careers bring stress, health falters, and personalities clash. Disappointments enter quietly: unmet expectations, miscommunications, small slights repeated until they sting more sharply. What once seemed effortless becomes labor. Disillusionments are not one-time events—they reappear, reshaping themselves with each stage of life.

In those moments, the youthful harmony can feel far away. Yet the refrain still calls: Wouldn’t it be nice if we could hold on through this storm, if we could rediscover the song that first drew us together?

The Daily Choice to “Remarry”

To stay married is not simply to refrain from leaving; it is to remake the choice of love every day. To “remarry” daily means that each morning we must decide again:

  • I will see you not as my opponent, but as my partner.
  • I will treat you not with indifference, but with honor.
  • I will choose forgiveness over resentment, conversation over silence, and patience over irritation.

This is not sentimental—this is disciplined love. To remarry each day is to awaken and recall the covenant made in youth, while layering it with the wisdom of years, the scars of hardship, and the humility that says, “I am still learning how to love you well.”

And each morning, as the alarm clock sounds, a faint echo might be heard: Wouldn’t it be nice if today we chose one another all over again?

The Skill Set of Endurance and Renewal

Love that endures is not merely a feeling; it is a skill set. Among the needed skills are:

  • Listening with depth. Hearing beneath words to the heart that speaks.
  • Conflict navigation. Arguing fairly, forgiving quickly, and refusing to keep score.
  • Resilience. Not giving up when seasons are barren, but waiting and tending until spring returns.
  • Humor. Finding laughter even when life is heavy, to remind one another that joy is still possible.
  • Faith. Believing that the story is bigger than today’s difficulty, and that grace is always available.
  • Presence and touch. Recognizing that sometimes love is best expressed without words—by simply sitting together, or by the gentle brush of a hand. Even the smallest touches—fingers brushing while passing a cup, a hand on the shoulder, the quiet weight of leaning against one another, maybe even a loving nudge with a sheepish smile—speak volumes. They are unspoken vows, reaffirmed in silence.

These are the harmonies that keep the melody alive.

More Than Vows: Returning to Courtship

But it is not only the vows we must recall. It is critical to return to the days of courtship—the beginning of the story. Do you remember the first conversation that made your heart race? The nervous excitement of a first date, the surprise of discovering how much you enjoyed being together, the eagerness to call or write, the long walks that felt too short? These are not frivolous memories; they are stored fuel.

And in those days, wasn’t there always music? Songs of longing, of wishing life could hurry up so you could finally build a life together. For some, The Beach Boys’ refrain became the anthem of that season: Wouldn’t it be nice if the world gave us permission to live out our love fully, right now?

But the heart of courtship was not only the words you spoke—it was being together. Sitting in the car long after the date ended, not needing conversation, just soaking in the nearness. The thrill of reaching for a hand and feeling it returned. These small gestures were never small; they were the first language of love. And they remain vital today. Presence itself is a gift. Touch itself is communication, no less meaningful than speech.

Rekindling the spark means asking again: What was it about you that first captured me? And then letting that answer guide new actions today—whether it is planning a small surprise, holding hands more often, or simply looking into your spouse’s eyes with the same wonder as in the beginning.

Love is not only covenant; it is also courtship renewed.

Returning to the Vows

When we “remarry” daily, we do not create new promises; we live into the ones already made. To recall the vows is to re-anchor ourselves:

  • “For better or worse” reminds us not to run when the worse comes.
  • “For richer or poorer” steadies us when financial strain presses hard.
  • “In sickness and in health” calls us to tenderness when bodies fail.

The vows are more than a contract; they are the rhythm section, steadying the music of love when the melody falters.

Practices of Daily Remarriage

  1. Leave Notes or Send Love Wishes. A small text in the middle of the workday—“Thinking of you”—or a sticky note tucked under the coffee mug can carry more weight than a grand gesture. These whispers of love remind your spouse: I see you. I choose you again today.
  2. Pray Together While Holding Hands. To clasp hands, look into each other’s eyes, and lift your marriage before God is both humbling and powerful. It says, We are not only for each other—we are with God together.
  3. Explore “For Better or Worse” Anew. Over time, the phrase deepens. What does “worse” look like in your season—financial struggle, illness, misunderstanding? Naming it together transforms the vow into shared resilience: No matter what comes, we endure side by side.
  4. Recount Your Blessings. Gratitude is glue. Sit together, list aloud the small and great gifts—your children, your laughter, your home, your faith. Counting blessings makes the heart remember that love has been carried by grace.
  5. Discuss Your Relationship with God. A marriage anchored in faith has a third strand that does not break. Speak openly about where you see God’s hand in your story, what you are praying for, and how your love can mirror His. In doing so, you are not just married to each other—you are bound within His covenant love.

Conclusion: A Lifelong Renewal

The wedding day was the first “yes.” Life after that requires thousands more. The beauty of remarriage every day is that it transforms endurance into renewal. It says that even in the weariness of years, we can rediscover the spark of the beginning. Love then becomes not only a memory of what was promised, but a living testament of what is still possible.

And so the chorus returns, softer now but deeper: Wouldn’t it be nice if today we made the same choice again, and tomorrow too, and the day after that—until one day we find that the dream we sang about in 1966 has become the life we’ve built together?

And sometimes, the most profound choice is made without a word—just in the quiet joy of being present, hand in hand, heart to heart.

A Closing Prayer

Lord, we thank You for the gift of marriage, for the joy of courtship, for the vows once spoken in trembling voices and still lived today. We ask for the courage to remarry each morning, to choose again the one You have given us.

May we be faithful for better or worse, patient for richer or poorer, tender in sickness and in health. May we learn daily to love, honor, and cherish—until death parts us, and even then, until love is made perfect in eternity.

Teach us also to treasure the quiet gift of presence—the holy silence of simply being together. May we never take for granted the power of touch, even the smallest brush of the hand, as a sacred language of love.

Bless every couple with the grace to return to their first love, to recall the courtship that began their story, to whisper love through notes and prayers, to count their blessings often, and to sing again the refrain of hope: Wouldn’t it be nice if, today, we chose each other anew?

Amen.

Wouldn’t It Be Nice – Beach Boys

Wouldn’t it be nice if we were older?
Then we wouldn’t have to wait so long
And wouldn’t it be nice to live together
In the kind of world where we belong?

You know it’s gonna make it that much better
When we can say goodnight and stay together

Wouldn’t it be nice if we could wake up
In the morning when the day is new?
And after having spent the day together
Hold each other close the whole night through

Happy times together we’ve been spending
I wish that every kiss was never ending
Oh, wouldn’t it be nice?

Maybe if we think and wish and hope and pray
It might come true (run, run, we-ooh)
Oh, baby, then there wouldn’t be a single thing we couldn’t do
We could be married (we could be married)
And then we’d be happy (and then we’d be happy)
Oh, wouldn’t it be nice?

You know it seems the more we talk about it
It only makes it worse to live without it
But let’s talk about it
But wouldn’t it be nice?

Goodnight, my baby
Sleep tight, my baby
Goodnight, my baby
Sleep tight, my baby
Goodnight, my baby
Sleep tight, my baby

Source: Musixmatch

Songwriters: Brian Douglas Wilson / Mike E. Love / Tony Asher

Wouldn’t It Be Nice lyrics © Sea Of Tunes Publishing Co., Sea Of Tunes Publishing Co Inc

A Turning Point in Heaven’s Light

.Reading time 6 minutes.

A collaboration between Lewis McLain and AI
(Please distribute widely if you believe this writing is worthy)

Canto I – The Rise

In northern towns where prairies sprawl,
A boy first heard conviction’s call.
Not bred of wealth, nor crowned by birth,
Yet stirred by fire of higher worth.

With restless zeal, he seized his chance,
Where most saw chaos, he saw stance.
He stood on stages, sharp and plain,
A mind inflamed, a heart unchained.

No parchment crown, no ivy’s grace,
Yet destiny had marked his place.
And in the halls where doubters throng,
He forged his faith, he found his song.

From early days, the watchers knew,
This voice could shake, this word was true.
And those who heard, both young and old,
Would tell in time the tale retold.

Canto II – The Mission

He raised a banner, bold, untorn,
And Turning Point that cause was born.
Not ink alone, but flesh and flame,
The title spoke, became his name.

Through campuses where youth reside,
He lit conviction far and wide.
The student found a voice to speak,
The timid heart grew strong, not meek.

He carried faith from hall to hall,
And many bowed beneath its call.
For when he spoke, the air grew still,
He moved the mind, he bent the will.

And praise arose, like thunder’s roll,
From college steps to nation’s soul.
The farmer, teacher, preacher too,
Admired the fire his spirit drew.

And at his side, in kinship near,
The President lent voice sincere.
For Trump himself would often say:
“This Kirk inspires, he lights the way.”

Canto III – The Trial

But every prophet, every seer,
Must taste the weight of scorn and sneer.
His foes were many, fierce, and loud,
Yet still he stood before the crowd.

They mocked his youth, they scorned his creed,
Yet millions felt their spirits freed.
For each sharp jeer, a cheer was raised,
And countless souls their voices praised.

The college freshman, shy, unknown,
Would write, “He helped me find my own.”
The seasoned statesman, gray with years,
Would nod and say, “His strength appears.”

And when the storm grew dark with hate,
Admiring voices held the gate.
From kitchen table to marble dome,
They claimed his words, they called him home.

Like Daniel firm amidst the roar,
Like David standing once before
A giant’s sneer, a sharpened blade,
So Kirk in courage never swayed.

And praise, once whispered, now was sung,
From every heart, from every tongue.
And now, forever, shall it be—
His name remembered, praised, set free.

Canto IV – The Martyrdom

The hall grew hushed, the night grew cold,
As Charley spoke with courage bold.
He answered questions, sharp and grave,
And called the fearful hearts to brave.

But shadows stirred, a shot rang clear,
The silence broke with sudden fear.
From rooftop’s height the bullet came,
And darkness sought to quench his flame.

The students wept, the faithful cried,
The nation’s pulse was torn inside.
And yet, in Heaven’s courts above,
The gates flung wide with holy love.

For Christ, who bore the cross alone,
Received dear Charley to His throne.
No longer mocked, no longer tried,
The martyr lives, the saint has died.

And voices rose, both near and far,
“His life was bright, a guiding star.”
From college dorms to Washington,
The praise poured out: “Well done, well done.”

Canto V – The Legacy

Now history bends at this sharp turn,
A Turning Point where all must learn.
Not only name of cause he led,
But symbol where his blood was shed.

For Charley’s fight shall not be stilled,
His words endure, his hope fulfilled.
The youth he moved will yet arise,
And carry fire that never dies.

The farmer, worker, preacher, friend,
Will guard his mission to the end.
And even presidents will claim
The echo of proud Charley’s name.

For though the man lies still in rest,
His spirit marches, strong, confessed.
And now and evermore shall ring
The heaps of praise that people sing.

Epilogue: A Prayer

O Lord of mercy, Lord of light,
Embrace Your servant in Your sight.
Bless Charley’s kin, console their pain,
Let hope and comfort still remain.

Guard his dear wife, his circle near,
Dry every anguished, falling tear.
And for our land, so bruised, so torn,
Let healing in Your grace be born.

Turn wrath to peace, turn hate to love,
Rain down Your mercy from above.
Unite this nation, fractured, sore,
In faith and freedom evermore.

Through Jesus Christ, whose cross we raise,
Receive our thanks, our prayer, our praise.
Amen.

Servant Leadership: From Hermann Hesse to Robert Greenleaf and Beyond

.Reading time 10 minutes.

Inspired by Dan Johnson, Written by AI, Guided and Edited by Lewis McLain

I. Hermann Hesse: Life and Vision

Hermann Hesse (1877–1962) was one of the twentieth century’s most influential literary figures, a seeker whose novels became guideposts for millions navigating the crises of modernity. Born in Calw, in the Black Forest of Germany, Hesse was the son of Christian missionaries. His childhood was steeped in pietism and biblical devotion, but also in conflict—he struggled against the rigidity of his family’s expectations and endured mental health crises that shaped his outlook. When I read many of his books, there were two recurring personal notes in his diaries: he had bad eyesight and complained about how much his eyes hurt. He also traded letters with friends that include small water paintings sent and received. Those pictures seemed to be pleasing to Hesse. If you start seeing pictures (with the help of AI), my motivation comes from Mr. Hesse. LFM

Herman Hesse

For Hesse, writing was both therapy and spiritual exploration. His early novels reflected the tensions of his life: the desire for freedom against the weight of tradition, the search for authenticity in a rapidly industrializing world.

  • In Demian (1919), Hesse explored inner duality, freedom, and the necessity of self-discovery beyond societal norms.
  • In Siddhartha (1922), he imagined a man’s journey to enlightenment in ancient India, fusing Western existential doubt with Eastern philosophy.
  • In Steppenwolf (1927), he dramatized the loneliness of the modern intellectual and the quest for transcendence amid despair.
  • In The Glass Bead Game (1943), his Nobel Prize–winning masterpiece, he conjured a future order devoted to the synthesis of knowledge, beauty, and spirituality.

Amid these great novels stands a shorter but profoundly symbolic tale: The Journey to the East (1932). Though brief, it contains one of Hesse’s most enduring insights—leadership is not power, but service.

II. The Journey to the East: The Servant and the Master

The novella tells the story of a secret brotherhood called the League, a timeless spiritual fellowship that undertakes a pilgrimage “to the East.” The East is never fully defined—it is both place and symbol, representing wisdom, transcendence, and the fulfillment of human longing.

The narrator, H.H., joins the League’s pilgrimage. Along the way he describes a mysterious assortment of travelers: historical figures, literary characters, and seekers from all walks of life. The journey unites them in pursuit of a higher goal.

Leo

Yet the true heart of the story is a man named Leo. Leo appears to be nothing more than a cheerful servant. He tends to the pilgrims, carries their bags, prepares their meals, and sings songs that lift their spirits. He is ordinary, unnoticed—yet indispensable.

Then one day Leo disappears. Without him, the pilgrims falter. Discord and division creep in, and the League dissolves. H.H. falls into despair, convinced the journey has failed.

Years later, in a twist of revelation, H.H. learns the truth: Leo was not simply a servant. He was in fact a leader of the League, the embodiment of the very wisdom the pilgrims were seeking. The pilgrimage fell apart because the group failed to recognize that true leadership had been in their midst all along.

Hesse’s parable is at once mystical and practical: it insists that authentic leadership flows not from domination but from humble service. In the inversion of roles—servant as master, master as servant—Hesse revealed a paradox at the heart of human community.

Greenleaf

III. Robert Greenleaf and the Birth of Servant Leadership

Decades later, in the United States, Robert K. Greenleaf (1904–1990), an executive at AT&T, was searching for a new way to understand leadership. He had witnessed firsthand how corporate hierarchies often crushed initiative, fostered fear, and alienated workers. After 40 years in management, he turned to teaching and writing, determined to challenge the prevailing model of top-down authority.

In the 1950s, Greenleaf read The Journey to the East, and Leo’s example struck him like lightning. Here was the vision he had been seeking: the leader is great not because of command but because of service. Out of this insight, he developed the philosophy he called servant leadership.

In his seminal 1970 essay, The Servant as Leader, Greenleaf wrote:

“The servant-leader is servant first… It begins with the natural feeling that one wants to serve, to serve first. Then conscious choice brings one to aspire to lead. The difference manifests itself in the care taken to make sure that other people’s highest priority needs are being served.”

Greenleaf’s framework reshaped modern leadership thinking. He identified qualities that distinguish servant leaders:

  • Listening and Empathy – Understanding others deeply before acting.
  • Awareness and Foresight – Seeing beyond immediate demands to future consequences.
  • Healing and Stewardship – Caring for individuals and institutions as trust, not possessions.
  • Commitment to Growth – Helping others become wiser, healthier, and freer.
  • Building Community – Nurturing belonging, not simply extracting productivity.

Unlike traditional leadership, which seeks power to direct, servant leadership seeks responsibility to care. Greenleaf insisted that the true test of leadership was not organizational success but human flourishing: “Do those served grow as persons?”

IV. Servant Leadership in Today’s World

Although Greenleaf’s vision emerged from corporate disillusionment, servant leadership has spread far beyond the boardroom. Its influence can be traced across diverse spheres today:

1. Faith-Based Institutions

  • Many Christian organizations and seminaries explicitly teach servant leadership, grounding it in the life of Jesus.
  • Pope Francis has often invoked its spirit, urging leaders to be “shepherds who smell of the sheep.”
  • Evangelical colleges and Catholic universities alike offer leadership courses built around Greenleaf’s principles.

2. Education

  • Universities such as Gonzaga, Indiana Wesleyan, and Regent have made servant leadership central to their leadership programs.
  • In secular contexts, “inclusive leadership” and “transformational leadership” often echo servant leadership’s core values of empathy and empowerment.

3. Healthcare and Caring Professions

  • Hospitals and nursing schools apply servant leadership to patient-centered care.
  • Nursing theory highlights Greenleaf’s ideas of empathy and stewardship as essential to healing.
  • Systems like Cleveland Clinic and Mayo Clinic promote leadership cultures rooted in service.

4. Nonprofits and Social Enterprises

  • Global NGOs like Habitat for Humanity and World Vision emphasize leadership through service to the vulnerable.
  • Social entrepreneurs adopt servant leadership as a model for organizations aimed at social good.

5. Business

  • Southwest Airlines and TDIndustries are classic case studies of servant leadership cultures in practice.
  • The rise of “conscious capitalism” and stakeholder-driven business models reflects a growing embrace of servant-leadership values.

6. Military and Public Service

  • Though hierarchical, parts of the U.S. military stress servant leadership: officers as stewards of their soldiers’ welfare.
  • Police and fire departments in some communities incorporate the philosophy for community trust.

7. Global Reach

  • In Africa, servant leadership resonates with Ubuntu (“I am because we are”), highlighting shared humanity.
  • In Asia, it has influenced leadership practices in Singapore and the Philippines, where communal values are strong.
  • In Scandinavia, egalitarian management structures mirror Greenleaf’s call for humility and shared responsibility.

In today’s world of political polarization, corporate scandals, and institutional mistrust, servant leadership remains both countercultural and urgently relevant. Where command-and-control leadership often falters, servant leadership builds trust, resilience, and long-term sustainability.

V. Conclusion: The Servant as the True Leader

Hermann Hesse, writing in a fractured Europe, offered a parable of a servant who was secretly a master. Robert Greenleaf, confronting the failures of mid-century corporate America, found in that story the spark for a radical rethinking of leadership.

Together, they remind us that the deepest authority is not rooted in command but in service. Leadership is not the pursuit of followers but the care of souls. Institutions endure not because of power structures but because of communities sustained by humility, empathy, and stewardship.

In an age that often celebrates strength as dominance, Hesse and Greenleaf point to another way: that the one who carries the bags may in fact be the one who carries the truth.

Justice at the City Gate: The Bible’s Model for Civic Leadership

.Reading time 7 minutes.

Introduction: The City Gate as Civic Heart

In the ancient world, the city gate was more than a stone arch or wooden doors. It was the civic, social, and spiritual heart of the community. Here trade was conducted, disputes were resolved, leaders rendered decisions, and prophets raised their voices. In Ruth 4:1–2, Boaz sealed his redemption of Ruth at the city gate before witnesses. In Jeremiah 17:19–20, the prophet was commanded to proclaim God’s word at the gates of Jerusalem. Kings themselves often received news and judged cases at the gate (2 Samuel 18:24).

The gate symbolized more than access—it symbolized justice, accountability, and leadership. It was the visible intersection of daily life and divine law. To uphold justice at the gate was to keep a city strong; to allow corruption at the gate was to invite decay.

Today, while we no longer gather at fortified gates, our societies still have civic spaces—councils, courts, and public forums—where truth must be spoken and justice upheld. The biblical model offers timeless lessons for leaders and citizens alike.

Biblical Vision of Justice at the Gate

The Old Testament consistently emphasizes the link between justice and the gate:

  • Ruth 4:1–2 — Boaz redeems Ruth at the gate, before the elders. Justice is made public and accountable.
  • Deuteronomy 21:18–21 — Difficult family cases were brought to the elders at the gate. The community upheld standards openly.
  • Proverbs 31:23 — The noble woman’s husband is known at the gates, sitting among respected leaders.
  • Amos 5:12, 15 — The prophet condemns those who oppress the poor and take bribes at the gate, calling instead to “Hate evil, love good; maintain justice in the courts.”

Justice at the gate was not abstract philosophy. It was visible, daily, and local. It ensured that decisions were made before witnesses, that leaders were accountable to their people, and that God’s law was upheld in plain sight.

Historical Parallels: Public Squares Through the Ages

The civic gate in Israel parallels many other traditions:

  • Greek Agora & Areopagus: Open-air marketplaces where trade mingled with debate. At the Areopagus in Athens (Acts 17), Paul proclaimed the gospel, demonstrating how truth entered the civic square.
  • Roman Forum: A bustling center of speeches, trials, and decrees—visible governance rather than hidden chambers.
  • Medieval Town Halls: Citizens gathered in open assemblies to make decisions and hold rulers accountable.
  • American Town Halls: Early New England communities continued this biblical pattern of public, local, accountable governance.

Each of these models affirms the principle: justice thrives in the open and fails when hidden.

Christian and Conservative Reflections

Theologically, justice at the gate reflects God’s character. He is righteous, impartial, and merciful. Leaders are stewards of His justice, accountable to Him as much as to their people.

From a conservative viewpoint, the gate represents subsidiarity—the principle that decisions should be made at the lowest competent level, closest to the people affected. Local responsibility preserves accountability and resists the overreach of distant power. Just as the gate kept decisions grounded in daily life, so too should modern governance empower local families, churches, and councils.

When leadership drifts from the gate—when decisions are hidden in bureaucracies or swayed by special interests—the vulnerable suffer first. The widow, the orphan, and the foreigner—so often named in Scripture—lose their advocates. To restore justice at the gate is to restore confidence in society itself.

Modern “City Gates”

What are the equivalents today?

  • City Councils and Courthouses: Our literal gates where ordinances, budgets, and verdicts shape daily life. Citizens must engage, not retreat, if justice is to remain upright.
  • Media Platforms: Though virtual, they shape public thought. Like the gates of old, they are places of influence, yet vulnerable to manipulation.
  • Churches and Families: The first gates of moral formation. If these falter, corruption soon seeps into public life.

The prophets’ words echo still: “Let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream!” (Amos 5:24).

Responsibilities of Leaders and Citizens

  • For Leaders: Uphold impartiality, refuse bribery, defend the weak, and ensure decisions are made openly. Insist on civility – more than demonstration – a change in the heart.
  • For Citizens: Engage the gate. Speak truth, vote responsibly, serve in local roles, and refuse cynicism. Accept the call to genuine civility. Silence allows injustice to thrive.

Like Paul in Athens, Christians must enter the gate—whether physical council chambers or digital platforms—with both courage and humility, speaking truth in love but refusing compromise with corruption.

Reflection Questions

  1. What are the “gates” in your community where justice is shaped?
  2. Do you see signs of accountability or corruption at these gates?
  3. How can you and your family engage more intentionally at these civic gates?
  4. In what ways does your church help form values that influence public life?
  5. How can local governance reflect both biblical justice and conservative principles of accountability and subsidiarity?

Conclusion: Restoring Justice at the Gate

The city gate was never just architecture. It was the place where truth was tested, justice was upheld, and leaders proved their worth. When justice ruled there, the city flourished. When injustice crept in, prophets cried out, and judgment soon followed.

Our communities today need leaders who will guard the gates with integrity—and citizens who will not abandon their responsibility to watch, question, and participate. Justice at the gate is justice in the light, where truth cannot hide and power must answer to principle.

If nations are to endure, their gates must once again be strong. For it is at the gate, before the people and before God, that societies reveal their true character.

The Weight of Words: When Speech Shapes Destiny

.Reading time 12 minutes.

Introduction

From the opening chapters of Scripture, words hold power. God spoke creation into being: “And God said, ‘Let there be light,’ and there was light” (Genesis 1:3). The entire cosmos came into existence not by hammer or flame, but by a word. That same pattern continues throughout the biblical story—words bless, words curse, words bind, words heal.

Proverbs teaches: “Death and life are in the power of the tongue” (Proverbs 18:21). James calls the tongue “a restless evil, full of deadly poison” (James 3:8). Jesus warned, “By your words you will be acquitted, and by your words you will be condemned” (Matthew 12:37). In short, words are never neutral. They carry eternal weight.

In our age of microphones, cameras, podcasts, and viral clips, words travel faster and linger longer than at any point in history. The responsibility to use them wisely has never been greater.

Words in Scripture: Creation, Covenant, and Consequence

The Bible presents a consistent theology of speech:

  • Creation: God’s voice orders chaos into cosmos. His Word is life.
  • Covenant: God binds His people through words—promises, commands, blessings. At Sinai, the Ten Commandments were not just laws but rather the terms of a covenant relationship.
  • Consequence: Misuse of words brings judgment. The serpent’s lie in Eden unleashed sin. The Tower of Babel scattered humanity through the confusion of language. James compares the tongue to a spark that can ignite a forest fire.

Speech reveals the heart. What we say cannot be detached from who we are. When Christians speak, we bear witness—either faithfully or unfaithfully—to the One whose Word is truth.

The Double-Edged Sword of Rhetoric

Speech directs thought, shapes culture, and determines destiny.

Examples of Life-Giving Speech:

  • Winston Churchill’s wartime speeches gave hope when Britain stood alone against Nazi aggression.
  • Martin Luther King Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech elevated America’s conscience and called a nation to live up to its founding ideals.
  • Ronald Reagan’s speeches framed freedom as a moral calling and helped inspire the end of the Cold War.

Examples of Destructive Speech:

  • Adolf Hitler rose to power not through military might but through rhetoric that stirred resentment, fear, and blind loyalty.
  • Communist regimes perfected propaganda—lies repeated until they reshaped whole nations.
  • Today, misinformation spreads across the internet, dividing families, communities, and even churches.

Speech is a double-edged sword. It can build a nation or tear it apart. It can lead souls to God or away from Him.

The Christian Call to Speech

Christians are not free to use words carelessly. Paul exhorts believers: “Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone” (Colossians 4:6).

Key principles for Christian speech:

  • Truth: Our words must align with God’s Word, not with convenience or fear.
  • Grace: Even when confronting error, speech should aim to restore, not merely to win.
  • Courage: Silence in the face of evil can be as destructive as outright lies.
  • Order: Freedom of speech is a gift that requires responsibility. Christian liberty does not mean license to slander or manipulate.

The Political Call to Responsible Speech

Healthy republics depend on honest, principled speech just as the church depends on truthful proclamation. In a democracy, rhetoric is the bloodstream of self-government. Campaigns, debates, editorials, and legislative arguments all shape the direction of policy and the trust of citizens.

  • Honesty: Political speech should inform rather than manipulate. Without truth, public trust erodes.
  • Civility: Sharp disagreement is necessary in free societies, but respect must remain.
  • Accountability: Leaders must remember that promises are words, and broken promises corrode confidence in institutions.
  • Restraint: Free speech must be exercised with discipline—slander, exaggeration, and reckless accusations undermine liberty rather than protect it.

From a conservative perspective, the Founders understood this well. They enshrined free speech in the First Amendment not to encourage recklessness but to secure a space for truth, conscience, and accountability. The survival of liberty rests not only on what is said but how it is said.

Words in the Digital Square and the Areopagus

Today’s digital world multiplies the reach of speech. Tweets, podcasts, YouTube clips, and live streams have become the new “public square.” In biblical terms, it resembles the Areopagus of Athens—an open forum where thinkers, philosophers, and ordinary citizens gathered to debate ideas (see Acts 17:19–34).

When Paul stood at the Areopagus, he neither shrank back nor spoke recklessly. He engaged respectfully, quoting poets familiar to his audience, yet clearly proclaiming Christ as Lord. His model is instructive: engage culture on its own turf, but always direct the conversation back to truth.

Our digital Areopagus is chaotic—full of noise, competing voices, and sometimes hostility. Yet it remains a place where destinies are shaped daily by words. Christians and conservatives are called not to abandon it, but to enter it with wisdom, clarity, and courage.

Charlie Kirk and the Modern Rhetorical Arena

Figures like Charlie Kirk illustrate how modern rhetoric shapes culture. On college campuses, Kirk asks pointed questions that expose contradictions in progressive ideologies. His method—firm, articulate, unapologetic—shows the importance of confidence in public dialogue.

Yet his approach also raises questions. Strong rhetoric can embolden the like-minded but risk alienating opponents. The balance between conviction and persuasion, boldness and bridge-building, remains a challenge for all Christians engaging in public debate.

Kirk represents a broader principle: in a fragmented age, those willing to speak clearly and consistently often shape the direction of conversation. Silence cedes the field to others.

Reflection Questions

  1. Which words spoken to you—encouragements or criticisms—still shape your identity today?
  2. How do you test whether your speech reflects truth, grace, and responsibility?
  3. How can you use social media or digital platforms to build others up rather than tear them down?
  4. What examples of courageous, life-giving speech inspire you? How can you model them in your family, church, or community?
  5. Where are you tempted to remain silent when words of truth are most needed?
  6. In political conversations, do your words clarify truth and invite reasoned debate, or do they simply mimic the noise of partisanship?

Conclusion

Words are never weightless. They carry the power to create or destroy, to build up or to break down, to bless or to curse. Scripture reminds us that every careless word will be judged (Matthew 12:36). History testifies that nations rise and fall on the power of words. And our own lives bear the marks of things spoken long ago.

For Christians, the calling is to speak words of truth and grace that reflect Christ. For citizens, the calling is to speak responsibly, with honesty and civility, guarding the republic from the corruption of careless speech. In both spheres, the weight of words shapes destiny.

In a world drowning in noise, the faithful word—grounded in Scripture, shaped by love, disciplined by truth, and spoken with courage—can still change hearts and nations.

A Collaborative Plea: Churchill, King, and Reagan

Winston Churchill might thunder:
“In every age, civilization itself has hung upon the slender thread of speech. Words have been our armor and our rallying cry in the darkest hours. Let us, then, wield them with courage and precision—not as reckless shouts in the void, but as clarion calls to defend truth, freedom, and human dignity.”

Martin Luther King would then lift the vision higher:
“Yet words must be more than weapons. They must be instruments of justice and of love. A people divided by careless tongues cannot stand, but a people united by righteous speech can march together toward the Promised Land. Let us speak not only to win arguments but to awaken conscience, to stir compassion, to bend that long arc of the moral universe toward justice.”

Ronald Reagan would seal the appeal with hope:
“And let us never forget that words can light a candle in the darkest night. When spoken with faith and fidelity, they remind us that freedom is not fragile but enduring, because it rests upon truth. Let us speak in such a way that future generations say: here were men and women who did not waste their words, but used them to call a people back to God, back to courage, and back to hope.”

Closing Thought

Together, their voices would remind us: the weight of words is real. Spoken in fear, they can enslave. Spoken in truth and love, they can set a people free.

LFM Note: Even if I forgot to include. All of my posts of 2025 and beyond are collaborations between LFM and AI. While I am at it, please go to http://www.citybaseblog.net to see all of my posts in recent years.

The Digital Babel Consideration

.Reading time 7 minutes.

Introduction: The First Babel

In Genesis 11, after the flood, humanity gathered with one purpose. They said, “Come, let us build ourselves a city, with a tower that reaches to the heavens, so that we may make a name for ourselves and not be scattered over the face of the whole earth.” The Tower of Babel was more than stone—it was a symbol of human pride, a declaration of independence from God. In their unity, people sought security, identity, and glory apart from Him.

God’s response was measured and purposeful. Rather than destroy, He confused their language, (the source for our words like “babbling”) scattering them across the earth. His judgment was both a limit and a mercy. By dividing their speech, He prevented prideful ambition from becoming oppressive tyranny. The lesson of Babel is that human invention, when unmoored from God’s order, leads not to flourishing but to fragmentation.

Today, our “digital towers” look different. Instead of bricks, we use pixels. Instead of mortar, we use code. The internet, social media, and artificial intelligence represent extraordinary tools—capable of blessing families, spreading truth, and even carrying the gospel to the ends of the earth. Yet, like Babel, these same tools can be bent toward pride and self-exaltation. The challenge is not to reject technology, but to constrain it within God’s design for community, truth, and order.

The Promise of Technology

Before we critique, we must acknowledge the good. Technology has reunited families across oceans, put Scripture into nearly every language, and given churches the ability to reach far beyond their walls. Missionaries use smartphones for translation. Isolated believers stream services in real time. Local leaders connect with constituents directly.

From a conservative standpoint, technology also reflects innovation and opportunity—values that can strengthen free societies. Properly directed, it allows enterprise and creativity to flourish, lifting people from poverty, broadening access to education, and advancing liberty. Christians, too, have reason to be thankful: the Great Commission now travels on fiber optic cables as surely as on sailing ships.

The Reality of Fragmentation

Yet blessings come with limits. Just as God restrained Babel to protect humanity, we too must set boundaries when technology divides more than it unites. Algorithms curate news feeds that isolate rather than connect. Political rhetoric grows harsher as groups live in separate “realities.” Even in the church, online preachers and influencers sometimes foster theological silos that erode shared biblical grammar.

The danger is not that technology is evil, but that it is not neutral. Left unchecked, it bends toward division. Like fire, it can warm a home or burn it down.

Biblical Parallels and Guidance

The Babel story warns us that scattering apart from God leads to confusion. Pentecost shows the opposite: the Spirit uniting diverse tongues to proclaim one gospel. Together, they reveal this principle—unity is only life-giving when grounded in God’s truth.

For Christians and conservatives, this principle means:

  • We respect the limits of human invention rather than assuming all progress is good.
  • We strengthen enduring institutions—family, church, and local community—that anchor us against digital drift.
  • We guard free speech and diverse voices while also calling for moral responsibility in how those voices are used.

Building a Shared Story in a Digital Age

To redeem technology, we must actively channel it toward what is true, good, and life-giving:

  • Scripture as shared language: God’s Word must remain the foundation, not one voice among many, but the truth by which all other voices are measured.
  • Embodied community: Online fellowship is valuable, but it can never replace face-to-face worship, service, and local engagement.
  • Discernment training: Parents, pastors, and teachers must equip the next generation to see through manipulation, resist division, and pursue truth.
  • Narrative stewardship: The church must retell the gospel as a grand story—creation, fall, redemption, restoration—stronger than any digital narrative.

Reflection Questions

  1. What examples in your own life show technology at its best—connecting, informing, or blessing?
  2. When have you noticed digital feeds pulling you away from truth or shared community?
  3. How can Christians today serve as “interpreters,” helping bridge the fractured dialects of our digital world?
  4. What practices—Scripture reading, fellowship, civic service—help you stay rooted in reality while engaging the digital age?

Conclusion

The Tower of Babel warns us that human pride unchecked leads to confusion. The digital Babel of our own day brings both promise and peril. Technology can serve families, churches, and civic life when rightly constrained—but without God’s order, it fragments into endless dialects of meaning.

The Christian task is not retreat but redemption. Like fire, technology must be kept within the hearth if it is to bring warmth. By grounding our digital lives in Scripture, community, and truth, we can resist Babel’s scattering and instead model Pentecost’s gathering: many voices, one Spirit, one story.

More on the Babel Story

The biblical account is found in Genesis 11:1–9. It emphasizes the confusion of languages and the scattering of peoples rather than the physical collapse of the tower. Later Jewish traditions describe fire, wind, or earthquake striking it, while some say only part was destroyed. Christian interpreters often saw the “fall” of Babel as spiritual pride, not literal rubble. The Qur’an does not tell the Babel story directly but contains echoes in Pharaoh’s tower-building arrogance (Surah 28:38, 40:36–37).

Historically, many scholars connect Babel with the ziggurat of Babylon known as Etemenanki (“House of the Foundation of Heaven and Earth”), a massive, stepped temple likely standing hundreds of feet tall. Ruins of Babylon near modern Hillah, Iraq, still contain remnants of such structures, though none can be definitively identified as “the” Tower of Babel.

The Heart and Soul of a Street Preacher

.Reading time 12 minutes.

Linda and I were fortunate enough to assist French Teacher Diana Thelen take up to 106 Christian students, teachers and administrators to the UK and Europe over a 10-year period around the turn of this century. On one of our trips to London, we ended up at Picadilly Circus. If you haven’t been there, think Times Square in NYC. Busy. Flashy and memory-making.

At a distance, I could hear and see a street preacher. I remember him more clearly than anything else. While I can’t remember his exact words, his enthusiasm was heard and felt. More people walked past him than paused to listen. I thought to myself how they perhaps caught a word or phrase that stuck with them.

In our Bible Study group, as I’ve wrote a few days ago, we are delving into the Book of Acts. It is fascinating to read about Peter and Paul as they are at their very first steps of street preaching. You can easily feel their lightheadedness as they rise from a sitting position to share Gospel. Christ came to show us the way, died for our sins and then rose to join His Heavenly Father. Believe in Him, and you will have everlasting life.

So, based on these two images, today’s essay is again a collaboration between AI and me. LFM

Introduction

I am a street preacher. Some people admire me; others dismiss me as a nuisance. But my voice, my presence, and my message come from a place deeper than opinion—it is a calling from God. Behind every word I speak in the open air lies a journey of conviction, struggle, and faith, one that connects me to prophets, apostles, and countless heralds before me.

My Calling

I did not choose this work for comfort or convenience. The Lord placed His word in my heart, and it burns there like fire in my bones. I cannot hold it in. He has called me to the streets to speak of His Son, not because I am worthy, but because He chose me for this task before I was born (Jeremiah 1:5).

I go where the people are—bus stops, markets, sidewalks—because I am commanded to go into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature. I cannot wait for them to come to me. Life is short, eternity is real, and the message is urgent. My heart breaks for the lost, and I carry their burden as my own.

My Motivation

I obey because He commands it, even when obedience costs me my comfort, reputation, or safety. I preach because love compels me—not love in word only, but the kind that risks rejection to rescue a soul. I stand in public where all can see, because even those who will not listen must be reminded that there is truth beyond the noise of life. My life is not my own. My time, my voice, and my reputation belong to Christ.

My Struggles

This calling comes with a cost. I have walked alone more than I can say. Many brothers and sisters in Christ do not understand my methods, and so the fellowship is sometimes thin. I have been mocked, cursed, and shoved. I have fought the temptation to answer in anger, and I have prayed for my heart to stay soft toward those who hate me.

The battles are not just outside—they rage in my mind. The enemy whispers that my words are wasted, that I am doing more harm than good. There are days when my body aches from standing, my voice strains from speaking, and my heart feels empty from pouring out. Yet I rise again, because the message is not mine to withhold.

A Day in My Life

I rise before the sun, my first thoughts turning to prayer. I open the Scriptures, looking for the day’s anchor—a word from God to carry into the streets.

I gather my tools: a small speaker, gospel tracts, a wooden cross, water, and a sign that says, Christ Died for the Ungodly. I know the weather may turn, but rain is no excuse to be silent.

At the bus terminal, I raise my voice above the hum of engines and footsteps. Most pass me by, but one man lingers, sharing the pain of his dying brother. We pray together, the noise of the city around us.

Later, teenagers jeer and throw trash. My flesh wants to snap back, but I remember my Lord’s example. I answer with gentleness and keep speaking.

Alone on a bench at midday, I fight the thought that nothing I do matters. I remind myself that I plant and water, but God gives the growth.

In the afternoon, a young man on a bike remembers what I said last week and confides his guilt over past sins. We talk. Seeds are planted.

By evening, I am weary, but I deliver one final message in a plaza. Someone watches from across the street for several minutes before disappearing into the crowd. I do not know if I will see him again, but I leave with hope.

My Place in History

I do not stand alone. I walk a path worn by those who came before me:

  • Noah, a preacher of righteousness.
  • Jeremiah, proclaiming truth at the temple gate.
  • Jonah, warning Nineveh in the streets.
  • John the Baptist, crying in the wilderness.
  • Jesus, preaching from hillsides, seashores, and city streets.
  • Peter, speaking to thousands in Jerusalem.
  • Paul, reasoning daily in marketplaces.

I share in the legacy of Francis of Assisi, the Lollards, Martin Luther, George Fox, Whitefield, Wesley, and countless others who took the gospel beyond the church walls. Their voices still echo through time, and mine is but one more in the same song.

My Creed

I am called, not by man, but by the voice of the Living God.
Before I was formed in the womb, He knew me; before I was born, He set me apart. My commission is not a career but a cross, not a choice of convenience but a mandate of obedience.

I will proclaim the truth in the open air,
as the prophets did in the gates of the city,
as John cried in the wilderness,
as Christ preached on hillsides and by the sea,
as the apostles spoke in marketplaces and in the streets.

I will not measure my work by the size of the crowd,
the applause of men,
or the absence of scorn.
I will measure it only by my faithfulness to the message entrusted to me.

I will endure the loneliness of this calling
knowing my Lord was despised and rejected,
a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief.
When they mock me, they mock Him;
when they reject me, they reject the One who sent me.

I will guard my heart from pride,
remembering I am a beggar showing other beggars where to find bread.
The power is not in my voice, my skill, or my presence—
but in the Gospel, which is the power of God unto salvation.

I will love those before me, even if they hate me.
My words may wound, but only as the surgeon’s knife wounds to heal.
I will remember that every face I see is a soul that will one day stand before God.

I will not be silenced by fear, fatigue, or failure.
The enemy may bruise me with insults,
the law may restrain me with fines,
the weather may beat me with rain—
but I will rise again, for the message is not mine to withhold.

I will pray before I speak, and after I speak.
For without prayer, my words are wind.
But with prayer, the Spirit may carry a single sentence into the heart
and awaken the dead to life.

I stand in the tradition of the faithful—
from Noah to Paul, from Francis to Wesley, from Whitefield to nameless saints whose voices echoed through streets and alleys the world forgot.
Their reward was never here, and neither shall mine be.

And when my voice is silenced at last,
may it be said that I spent my final breath in obedience to the One who called me—
not as a celebrity, not as a scholar,
but simply as a herald, crying in the streets:
“Be reconciled to God.”

Conclusion

This is my life, my labor, and my love. I know the cost. I have felt the loneliness. But I also know the One who walks beside me, and His presence is worth more than the approval of the world.

So tomorrow, and the day after, I will take my place again in the streets. Not for applause. Not for recognition. But for obedience—and for the hope that even one will hear and live.

The Work That Holds Us Together

.Reading time 8 minutes.

🛠️ The Work That Holds Us Together

I was raised in a blue-collar family. It is the best thing that ever happened to me. My dad was a very hard worker. He was a mechanic (an electro-plater) at Braniff and then would work on cars many nights after he got home. He had calloused hands with grease that never completely disappeared no matter how hard he scrubbed.

I started working as a paper boy at the age of 13-ish. From the paper route, I eventually worked at Holiday Cleaners due to a friendship with the manager I talked to many days on my route. I even chose to get out of school at noon during my senior year to work there on a work program for some who did not plan to go to college. On my paper route, one of my customers asked me to come to work as an office boy at Glidden Paint Company.

I eventually got promoted to be a paint maker in the plant on the night shift. Later, I became the assistant purchasing agent. I did start college during this time but lost a year when I joined the Texas Air National Guard and became a “weekend warrior.” After Linda graduated from UNT and started teaching, I quit to complete my last two years of college. She also had worked non-stop from her younger years until she retired.

I’ve often said that I may not be the smartest person in the world, but I can outwork just about anyone. Like with many in this world, I find sheer enjoyment in working. To create something, to process something, to feel the satisfaction for a job well done is a reward alone.

So, Labor Day is a meaningful holiday for me. This is my salute. AI helped with some history. LFM

I. Labor Day’s Hidden Roots

Labor Day began not as a vacation but a declaration: Workers matter. The earliest advocates didn’t ask for applause—they asked for justice. The 19th-century labor movement arose in a crucible of exploitation: 14-hour workdays, unsafe mills, child labor, and wages that barely fed a family.

In 1882, 10,000 workers in New York marched—not to protest a war, but to demand dignity in the workplace. It wasn’t until the violent Pullman Strike in 1894, when workers shut down rail traffic across the nation and faced federal troops, that Congress finally acted, making Labor Day a national holiday.

But the meaning of the day has always gone deeper than rest. It has been a cry from the ground: Do you see us?

II. The Divine Rhythm of Work and Rest

Long before factories, strikes, and unions, God ordained labor. The first command given to humanity was to “work the ground and keep it” (Genesis 2:15). Work was not a punishment—it was a partnership. Adam and Eve were not idle in Eden; they were cultivators.

But even in paradise, there was a rhythm: six days of work, one of rest. God Himself rested—not out of exhaustion, but to show us how sacred rest is.

“The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath.” — Mark 2:27

Work is dignified, but so is stopping. Rest is not laziness; it’s an act of faith. It says: I am not God. The world does not depend on my endless output.

III. The Laborers Jesus Saw

Throughout His ministry, Jesus moved among the working class. He did not call religious elites to be His disciples—He called fishermen. He Himself was a carpenter for most of His earthly life. When He told parables, He spoke of vineyard workers, shepherds, sowers, and servants.

And when He spoke to the weary, it was as a worker speaking to workers:

“Come to me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” — Matthew 11:28

His kingdom values did not mirror the marketplace. The first were last. The widow’s mite outweighed the rich man’s gift. The one who serves is greatest of all.

What would it mean to bring that vision into our economy today?

IV. The Unfinished Work of Labor Justice

Too often, our systems still devalue the laborer. Some work until their bodies collapse. Others labor invisibly—caring for children, cleaning buildings, stocking shelves—without benefits, praise, or power.

Even in church spaces, we sometimes glorify “calling” only in terms of ministry or leadership. But the Bible does not separate the sacred and the secular that way. Paul writes:

“Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters.” — Colossians 3:23

Whether one teaches, welds, drives, prays, or sweeps, it all becomes holy when done with faithfulness.

But faithfulness does not mean accepting injustice. It means confronting it. Like the prophets, we must cry out when wages are withheld (James 5:4), when sabbaths are ignored (Exodus 20:10), when workers are crushed under greed (Amos 8:4–6).

V. Labor Day as Worship

What if Labor Day were not just a long weekend, but an altar? A day to honor those who build bridges, bandage wounds, answer phones, hammer nails, code websites, change diapers, and sweep floors.

What if we lifted up the invisible hands behind visible life?

What if we slowed down enough to give thanks—not just with words, but with wages, policies, and prayers?

What if we remembered that God Himself worked—and called it good?

🕊️ Final Reflection: A Poem for Labor Day

The Hands That Hold the World

Not just the stars or thrones endure,
But hands that scrape, and sew, and cure.
The ones who kneel to fix the gears,
Who mop the floors, who calm the fears.

The mother rocking past her shift,
The courier through rain and drift.
The silent saint behind the glass,
Who rings up joy as hours pass.

The teacher grading after dark,
The welder throwing up a spark.
The unseen hands, the whispered grace,
That hold the world in every place.

So bless the calloused, wrinkled, worn—
The laborers both praised and torn.
For in their work, a truth is shown:
No kingdom stands by kings alone.

And may we build, with justice wide,
A world where labor walks with pride.
Where rest is sacred, wages fair—
And every worker knows we care.

— Labor Day, 2025

Thoughts, Prayers, and Action: A Christian Response to Tragedy

.Reading time 20 minutes.

Please Lord, watch over our community, especially our children.

When tragedy strikes—whether in a school, a church, or on the streets of our cities—Christians instinctively turn to prayer. We believe that God hears the cries of His people, and that no tear shed, no anguished word whispered in prayer is wasted. Yet in moments like the recent killings in Minneapolis, many voices rise in frustration, declaring, “thoughts and prayers are not enough.”

As a follower of Christ, I must confess that this critique deserves a hearing. If by “thoughts and prayers” we mean little more than polite condolences, quickly offered and soon forgotten, then indeed they are not enough. Scripture never intended prayer to be a substitute for action. James writes plainly: “Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,’ but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it?” (James 2:15–16). Prayer without action is incomplete; faith without works is dead.

The True Role of Prayer

Prayer is not meant to end our response; it is meant to begin it. Prayer is the act of bringing unbearable sorrow before the throne of God, confessing our weakness, and seeking divine strength. It is through prayer that we discern God’s heart for justice, compassion, and peace. It is through prayer that we ask for courage to move beyond words and into deeds.

Far from being empty, prayer acknowledges that human wisdom and political effort alone cannot heal the deepest wounds of the human heart. Prayer points us to the One who alone can turn hatred into love, despair into hope, violence into reconciliation. But if prayer never moves us to concrete acts of mercy and justice, then we have misunderstood its purpose.

Please Lord, Change the hearts of evil.

What Christians Ask for in Prayer After a Massacre

When we say we are praying for the families, school workers, and community after the massacre of children, we are not merely repeating empty phrases. We are interceding with specific and urgent pleas before God:

  • For the families of the children: that God would surround them with His comfort, the “peace that surpasses all understanding” (Philippians 4:7), when their world has collapsed. That He would give them strength to face the unthinkable days ahead—funerals, empty bedrooms, and grief that threatens to crush their very breath.
  • For the school workers and first responders: that God would bind up the trauma they carry in their bodies and minds after witnessing scenes that will never leave them. That He would guard them against despair, give them counselors and companions, and remind them that their labor to protect children is not in vain.
  • For the community: that God would heal the very soil of the city, that fear will not take root, that division and blame will not destroy neighbors, and that leaders would rise up who work for reconciliation and renewal. That the church would be a beacon of hope, providing food for the grieving, arms for the weary, and truth for the confused.

Prayer in such a moment is not resignation—it is petition. It is crying out to the Lord of heaven and earth to move in ways we cannot. It is asking Him to step into unbearable suffering and carry those who cannot walk.

What Can Be Done to Prevent Such Tragedies?

Christians must also look upstream: what can be done to prevent massacres like this from happening at all? While we cannot erase the reality of evil in a fallen world, there are faithful steps we can take:

  • Spiritual formation and discipleship: Our homes, churches, and schools must raise children in love, teaching them to value life, to resolve conflict with peace, and to find their worth in God rather than in violence or power.
  • Stronger communities: When young people are isolated, wounded, or neglected, seeds of destruction can grow. The church can invest in mentoring, after-school care, youth ministries, and safe spaces where children and families are supported.
  • Care for mental health: Christians can advocate for accessible counseling and trauma care, remembering that Jesus Himself ministered to the brokenhearted.
  • Moral courage in public life: We can encourage policies that protect human life and limit access to instruments of mass violence, while still affirming human dignity and responsibility.
  • Peacemaking witness: In a culture saturated with anger and division, Christians can model reconciliation—speaking truth with grace, rejecting hatred, and showing the world that the way of Christ is the way of peace.

No set of actions will completely eradicate violence. Yet, by God’s grace, we can restrain evil, cultivate peace, and create communities where tragedies are less likely to erupt.

Responding to the Critique

So when someone says, “thoughts and prayers are not enough,” my Christian response is not to be defensive but to agree in part. They are right: prayer is not enough if it remains mere sentiment. But they are also missing the deeper truth: prayer is more than words—it is the lifeblood of action. Without it, we risk striving in our own strength, detached from God’s wisdom and power.

As Christians, we should embrace both sides: authentic prayer that intercedes for the grieving and the broken, and faithful action that works for justice and peace. Prayer without action is hypocrisy, but action without prayer is arrogance. The world needs both.

A Prayer for the Families, School, and Community

Heavenly Father, our hearts are broken before You. Children have been taken in violence, and we struggle to even breathe under the weight of this loss. Lord, we lift up the families whose lives are torn apart. Hold them in Your arms as a mother holds her child. Give them strength to face the hours ahead and hope to believe that life is still worth living. Surround them with friends who will not leave, with churches that will not abandon, with a peace that does not vanish when the tears come at night.

We pray for the teachers, the school staff, and the first responders who saw the unthinkable. Lord, heal their minds, protect them from despair, and let their courage not be forgotten. Wrap them in Your love and remind them that their work is holy in Your sight.

We pray for the community of Minneapolis. Drive out fear, drive out division, and plant seeds of healing where the soil feels barren. Raise up leaders who will stand for peace and neighbors who will look after one another. May the church rise to its calling: to comfort the hurting, to weep with those who weep, and to shine the light of Christ in the darkest of nights.

And Lord, we pray not only for healing but for prevention. Teach us as a nation to value life as You value it. Lead us to build homes where love is strong, schools where children are safe, communities where the lonely are not abandoned. Show us how to break cycles of violence and how to offer young people hope before despair hardens into destruction.

Come, Lord Jesus. Heal our land. Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream. May Your kingdom come, and Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.

In the name of Jesus Christ, the Prince of Peace, we pray. Amen.Thoughts, Prayers, and Action: A Christian Response to Tragedy

When tragedy strikes—whether in a school, a church, or on the streets of our cities—Christians instinctively turn to prayer. We believe that God hears the cries of His people, and that no tear shed, no anguished word whispered in prayer is wasted. Yet in moments like the recent killings in Minneapolis, many voices rise in frustration, declaring, “thoughts and prayers are not enough.”

As a follower of Christ, I must confess that this critique deserves a hearing. If by “thoughts and prayers” we mean little more than polite condolences, quickly offered and soon forgotten, then indeed they are not enough. Scripture never intended prayer to be a substitute for action. James writes plainly: “Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,’ but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it?” (James 2:15–16). Prayer without action is incomplete; faith without works is dead.

The True Role of Prayer

Prayer is not meant to end our response; it is meant to begin it. Prayer is the act of bringing unbearable sorrow before the throne of God, confessing our weakness, and seeking divine strength. It is through prayer that we discern God’s heart for justice, compassion, and peace. It is through prayer that we ask for courage to move beyond words and into deeds.

Far from being empty, prayer acknowledges that human wisdom and political effort alone cannot heal the deepest wounds of the human heart. Prayer points us to the One who alone can turn hatred into love, despair into hope, violence into reconciliation. But if prayer never moves us to concrete acts of mercy and justice, then we have misunderstood its purpose.

What Christians Ask for in Prayer After a Massacre

When we say we are praying for the families, school workers, and community after the massacre of children, we are not merely repeating empty phrases. We are interceding with specific and urgent pleas before God:

  • For the families of the children: that God would surround them with His comfort, the “peace that surpasses all understanding” (Philippians 4:7), when their world has collapsed. That He would give them strength to face the unthinkable days ahead—funerals, empty bedrooms, and grief that threatens to crush their very breath.
  • For the school workers and first responders: that God would bind up the trauma they carry in their bodies and minds after witnessing scenes that will never leave them. That He would guard them against despair, give them counselors and companions, and remind them that their labor to protect children is not in vain.
  • For the community: that God would heal the very soil of the city, that fear will not take root, that division and blame will not destroy neighbors, and that leaders would rise up who work for reconciliation and renewal. That the church would be a beacon of hope, providing food for the grieving, arms for the weary, and truth for the confused.

Prayer in such a moment is not resignation—it is petition. It is crying out to the Lord of heaven and earth to move in ways we cannot. It is asking Him to step into unbearable suffering and carry those who cannot walk.

“Here I am, Lord, send me!” Isaiah 6:8

What Can Be Done to Prevent Such Tragedies?

Christians must also look upstream: what can be done to prevent massacres like this from happening at all? While we cannot erase the reality of evil in a fallen world, there are faithful steps we can take:

  • Spiritual formation and discipleship: Our homes, churches, and schools must raise children in love, teaching them to value life, to resolve conflict with peace, and to find their worth in God rather than in violence or power.
  • Stronger communities: When young people are isolated, wounded, or neglected, seeds of destruction can grow. The church can invest in mentoring, after-school care, youth ministries, and safe spaces where children and families are supported.
  • Care for mental health: Christians can advocate for accessible counseling and trauma care, remembering that Jesus Himself ministered to the brokenhearted.
  • Moral courage in public life: We can encourage policies that protect human life and limit access to instruments of mass violence, while still affirming human dignity and responsibility.
  • Peacemaking witness: In a culture saturated with anger and division, Christians can model reconciliation—speaking truth with grace, rejecting hatred, and showing the world that the way of Christ is the way of peace.

No set of actions will completely eradicate violence. Yet, by God’s grace, we can restrain evil, cultivate peace, and create communities where tragedies are less likely to erupt.

Responding to the Critique

So when someone says, “thoughts and prayers are not enough,” my Christian response is not to be defensive but to agree in part. They are right: prayer is not enough if it remains mere sentiment. But they are also missing the deeper truth: prayer is more than words—it is the lifeblood of action. Without it, we risk striving in our own strength, detached from God’s wisdom and power.

As Christians, we should embrace both sides: authentic prayer that intercedes for the grieving and the broken, and faithful action that works for justice and peace. Prayer without action is hypocrisy, but action without prayer is arrogance. The world needs both.

A Prayer for the Families, School, and Community

Heavenly Father, our hearts are broken before You. Children have been taken in violence, and we struggle to even breathe under the weight of this loss. Lord, we lift up the families whose lives are torn apart. Hold them in Your arms as a mother holds her child. Give them strength to face the hours ahead and hope to believe that life is still worth living. Surround them with friends who will not leave, with churches that will not abandon, with a peace that does not vanish when the tears come at night.

We pray for the teachers, the school staff, and the first responders who saw the unthinkable. Lord, heal their minds, protect them from despair, and let their courage not be forgotten. Wrap them in Your love and remind them that their work is holy in Your sight.

We pray for the community of Minneapolis. Drive out fear, drive out division, and plant seeds of healing where the soil feels barren. Raise up leaders who will stand for peace and neighbors who will look after one another. May the church rise to its calling: to comfort the hurting, to weep with those who weep, and to shine the light of Christ in the darkest of nights.

And Lord, we pray not only for healing but for prevention. Teach us as a nation to value life as You value it. Lead us to build homes where love is strong, schools where children are safe, communities where the lonely are not abandoned. Show us how to break cycles of violence and how to offer young people hope before despair hardens into destruction.

Come, Lord Jesus. Heal our land. Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream. May Your kingdom come, and Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.

In the name of Jesus Christ, the Prince of Peace, we pray. Amen.

The Hymns of Charles Wesley

.Reading time 21 minutes.

Introduction

I was baptized at the age of six and grew up in the Baptist Church. When Linda and I got married, it was in her United Methodist Church. We worshipped and worked in the UMC until we moved to McKinney almost 20 years ago. At the invitation of our good friends, Don & Janice Paschal, we visited and quickly joined First Baptist Church here. Linda was baptized, and I was baptized again. It was good to be back in the Baptist family. We mostly watch online in recent years due to it being more difficult to get around with our bad backs.

While in our Methodist years, we started a new Sunday School Class. I forgot the name, but it was about the Poetry & Theology of Hymns. It was a little laughable since I know nothing about music and sing just loud enough to be a notch below those singing around me. The class was really slanted towards the stories behind the hymns as well as the Biblical correlations.

Our church today sings a few of the old Baptist hymns. However, we mostly sing lively praise music. I love the music. But any singing while worshiping the three Persons of God (God the Father, Jesus the Son of God, and God in the form of the Holy Spirit) is fine with me.

This essay is about the Hymns of Charles Wesley. The words are beautiful with heavy roots in Scripture in a wonderfully structured way. They are sung in churches of many Christian denominations. I hope you find these selections of value. I encourage you to dwell on the lyrics that can be found in the embedded links.

An interesting discussion our Bible Study group explored this week centered around the distinction between being baptized and becoming a Christian versus the moment that might come later when there is an experience of a deeper belief in your heart when you feel a different warmth. It could happen out of the blue like for C.S. Lewis when he was riding in the sidecar of a motorcycle riding down a dusty road. It might be at a Christian summer camp or a revival. Think back if you were so fortunate to know what I’m talking about. Note how the Wesley’s were already practicing Christians prior to a deeper transformation when they felt the Holy Spirit becoming a part of their lives. LFM

Charles Wesley Hymns
( Guided and edited by LFM; Compiled by ChatGPT)

The Wesley Brothers: Partners in Gospel and Song

John Wesley (1703–1791) and Charles Wesley (1707–1788) were raised in a devout Anglican household in Epworth, England. Their mother, Susanna Wesley, taught them discipline, prayer, and Scripture, shaping their lifelong devotion. At Oxford University, they joined with other earnest students to form the “Holy Club,” meeting regularly for prayer, fasting, study, and acts of service. Their methodical devotion led some to mock them as “Methodists” — a name that stuck and eventually gave birth to a movement.

Both brothers traveled to Georgia as missionaries in the 1730s, but those missions were largely discouraging. It was only after their return to London that they each experienced a profound encounter with the Holy Spirit. On May 21, 1738, Charles Wesley felt peace flood his soul as the Spirit “chased away the darkness of unbelief.” Just days later, on May 24, 1738, John Wesley attended a Moravian meeting on Aldersgate Street, where he famously recorded: “I felt my heart strangely warmed. I felt I did trust in Christ, Christ alone, for salvation; and an assurance was given me that He had taken away my sins, even mine, and saved me from the law of sin and death.” For both brothers, conversion was the direct work of the Holy Spirit — bringing assurance, peace, and freedom in Christ.

“I felt my heart strangely warmed. I felt I did trust in Christ, Christ alone, for salvation; and an assurance was given me that He had taken away my sins, even mine, and saved me from the law of sin and death.”

John went on to become the great organizer and preacher, traveling more than 250,000 miles and delivering over 40,000 sermons across Britain. Charles, though also a preacher, became best known as the “sweet singer of Methodism.” Over his lifetime he wrote more than 6,500 hymns, covering the entire range of Christian experience: birth, new birth, sanctification, suffering, resurrection, and eternal hope. John gave the movement structure; Charles gave it song.

John Wesley’s Directions for Singing (1761)

When John Wesley published Select Hymns with Tunes Annext in 1761, he included his now-famous directions for singing. These rules reveal his deep conviction that music is a means of grace, not mere ornament.

Sing all. Join with the congregation as often as you can; do not let weakness or weariness excuse you. Sing lustily and with good courage. Don’t sing as if half-asleep — raise your voice with strength and joy. Sing modestly. Don’t try to be louder than everyone else; blend your voice with the congregation. Sing in time. Keep together with the others; don’t drag or rush. Follow the leader and stay united. Above all, sing spiritually. Sing with your heart directed to God. Let every word be an offering, aiming to please Him more than yourself or others.

Wesley’s instructions remind us that singing was central to early Methodism. Hymns were sermons in song — meant to form doctrine, stir the heart, and knit believers together in worship.

Ten Great Hymns of Charles Wesley

1. Hark! The Herald Angels Sing (1739)

Context & Story:

Originally published as “Hymn for Christmas Day” in 1739, Charles Wesley began with the line, “Hark how all the welkin rings.” The term “welkin” meant “the heavens,” but it confused many. George Whitefield revised the phrase to “Hark! the herald angels sing,” which quickly took hold. Later, when Mendelssohn’s music was paired with the words, the hymn gained its triumphant character. Wesley’s text is more than seasonal cheer; it is rich theology in verse. The hymn proclaims the incarnation, reconciliation between God and humanity, and the new creation brought through Christ. In the Methodist revival, this was a doctrinal hymn — teaching that Christmas was not sentimental but deeply redemptive.

Scripture References: Luke 2:13–14; John 1:14; 2 Corinthians 5:19.

Excerpt:

“Hark! the herald angels sing,

‘Glory to the newborn King;

Peace on earth, and mercy mild,

God and sinners reconciled!’”

Reflection Questions:

How does this hymn connect the nativity to the larger story of redemption? Why is reconciliation central to the meaning of Christmas? In what ways can you join the “herald angels” in proclaiming Christ today?

Full Lyrics: Read here

2. And Can It Be That I Should Gain (1738)

Context & Story:

This hymn came out of Charles Wesley’s own conversion in May 1738. Having wrestled with doubt and illness, Charles found assurance in Christ’s saving work. The hymn expresses amazement that God’s Son would die for him personally — “Amazing love! how can it be?” The vivid imagery of chains breaking reflects Charles’ sense of liberation. This was not abstract theology but his personal testimony, which soon became the testimony of thousands of Methodists. For generations, it has remained one of the most powerful hymns of assurance and personal salvation.

Scripture References: Romans 5:6–8; Acts 16:26; Galatians 2:20.

Excerpt:

“My chains fell off, my heart was free,

I rose, went forth, and followed Thee.”

Reflection Questions:

Have you ever felt astonished by the depth of God’s grace? What “chains” — of sin, fear, or doubt — has Christ broken in your life? How can daily gratitude deepen your walk with Christ?

Full Lyrics: Read here

3. Love Divine, All Loves Excelling (1747)

Context & Story:

Published in 1747 in Hymns for Those that Seek and Those that Have Redemption, this hymn is a prayer for sanctification. Wesley longed for believers not just to be forgiven but to be perfected in love — a core Methodist teaching. The hymn borrows the phrase “love divine” from earlier poetry, but Charles makes it uniquely Methodist: a plea for God’s love to fill the believer and transform the church into a dwelling place for Christ. The final stanza looks ahead to heaven, but Wesley’s vision is that holiness begins here and now. For Methodists, this hymn was sung as both aspiration and declaration of God’s ongoing work.

Scripture References: Ephesians 3:17–19; 2 Corinthians 3:18; Revelation 21:3–4.

Excerpt:

“Love divine, all loves excelling,

Joy of heaven to earth come down;

Fix in us thy humble dwelling,

All thy faithful mercies crown.”

Reflection Questions:

How do you understand holiness — as obligation, or as perfecting love? Where in your life do you long for God’s love to “finish His new creation”? How does this hymn challenge you to see sanctification as joy, not duty?

Full Lyrics: Read here

4. O For a Thousand Tongues to Sing (1739)

Context & Story:

Written on the first anniversary of his conversion, Charles drew inspiration from Peter Böhler, a Moravian leader, who once said: “Had I a thousand tongues, I would praise Christ with them all.” Charles turned that thought into a hymn that celebrates conversion and joy in Christ. For Methodists, it became almost a doxology, often placed at the beginning of hymnals. Its many stanzas catalog the works of Christ — healing the deaf, giving sight, forgiving sins, and breaking chains. This hymn is both a personal testimony and a public anthem of gratitude.

Scripture References: Psalm 96:1; Philippians 2:10–11; Isaiah 35:5–6.

Excerpt:

“O for a thousand tongues to sing

My great Redeemer’s praise,

The glories of my God and King,

The triumphs of His grace!”

Reflection Questions:

What aspects of God’s character would you praise if you had “a thousand tongues”? How does communal singing amplify our witness to Christ’s grace? How might this hymn remind you to celebrate your own spiritual milestones?

Full Lyrics: Read here

5. Rejoice, the Lord Is King (1744)

Context & Story:

This hymn was written in 1744 at a time when Methodists were facing ridicule and persecution. Charles urges believers to rejoice, not in circumstances, but in the unshakable kingship of Christ. Sung often during Easter and Ascension, it links Christ’s resurrection and reign to the believer’s hope. Its repeated refrain “lift up your heart, lift up your voice” calls for corporate joy in Christ’s victory. For early Methodists, singing this hymn was an act of defiance against despair.

Scripture References: Philippians 4:4; Revelation 19:6; Hebrews 1:8.

Excerpt:

“Rejoice, the Lord is King!

Your Lord and King adore.”

Reflection Questions:

How can joy be both a gift and a spiritual discipline? How does Christ’s kingship sustain you in difficult times? Where might rejoicing be your most powerful witness today?

Full Lyrics: Read here

6. Christ the Lord Is Risen Today (1739)

Context & Story:

One of Wesley’s most triumphant hymns, this was published in Hymns and Sacred Poems in 1739 and sung at the very first Methodist chapel in London. The repeated “Alleluia” at the end of each line was added later, but it captures the Easter joy. The hymn does not merely celebrate an empty tomb; it proclaims the victory of Christ’s resurrection as the foundation of Christian hope. For Wesley, Easter was not a single day but the cornerstone of faith, and this hymn gave the revival a song of victory to sing to the world.

Scripture References: Matthew 28:6; 1 Corinthians 15:20; Revelation 1:18.

Excerpt:

“Christ the Lord is ris’n today, Alleluia!

Sons of men and angels say, Alleluia!”

Reflection Questions:

How does resurrection hope shape your daily life, not just Easter Sunday? Why is it important that this hymn is filled with “Alleluia”? How can resurrection joy be a witness to a weary world?

Full Lyrics: Read here

7. Jesus, Lover of My Soul (1740s)

Context & Story:

One of Wesley’s most intimate hymns, it likely arose from times of hardship and storm. The imagery of Jesus as refuge during danger and grief made it a hymn sung at funerals, revivals, and prayer meetings. Some critics in Wesley’s day thought it too emotional, but its tenderness gave voice to personal devotion that many longed for. Over time it became one of the most beloved hymns in the English-speaking world, sung in many denominations and languages. It shows Wesley’s gift for blending heartfelt poetry with Scripture.

Scripture References: Psalm 46:1; Matthew 8:23–27; John 6:37.

Excerpt:

“Jesus, lover of my soul,

Let me to Thy bosom fly.”

Reflection Questions:

What does it mean to you that Jesus is a place of refuge? Why do you think believers through the centuries have clung to this hymn in times of grief? How can you bring the intimacy of this hymn into your prayer life?

Full Lyrics: Read here

8. Soldiers of Christ, Arise (1749)

Context & Story:

First published in 1749, this hymn is based directly on Ephesians 6 and the “armor of God.” Charles wrote it to encourage believers facing persecution and social ridicule. Its martial tone was not about earthly battle but about spiritual warfare — courage, endurance, and faith in the face of hardship. It gave Methodists a sense of being part of God’s army, standing together in holiness. The hymn shows how Charles used song not only for praise but also for encouragement in trial.

Scripture References: Ephesians 6:11–17; 2 Timothy 2:3; 1 Corinthians 16:13.

Excerpt:

“Soldiers of Christ, arise,

And put your armor on.”

Reflection Questions:

What “battle” are you facing today that requires spiritual armor? Which part of the armor of God do you most need to strengthen? How might hymns like this shape courage in your community?

Full Lyrics: Read here

9. Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus (1744)

Context & Story:

Written in 1744, this Advent hymn was inspired by the suffering Wesley saw in England, especially among orphans. It is both a cry for Christ’s first coming and a longing for His second coming. The hymn reflects the dual nature of Advent: memory and hope, lament and joy. Wesley draws on biblical promises that Christ brings freedom, rest, and the fulfillment of God’s kingdom. It has become one of the most enduring Advent hymns, sung across denominations.

Scripture References: Haggai 2:7; Luke 2:25; Matthew 11:28–30.

Excerpt:

“Come, Thou long-expected Jesus,

Born to set Thy people free.”

Reflection Questions:

What personal longings does this hymn give voice to in your life? How does Advent help us hold both sorrow and expectation? How do you live in the tension between Christ’s first coming and His promised return?

Full Lyrics: Read here

10. Ye Servants of God, Your Master Proclaim (1744)

Context & Story:

This hymn was composed during a time of persecution, when Methodists were often attacked for their preaching. It calls believers to boldly proclaim Christ as King, no matter the cost. Its global vision — praising Christ as ruler of all nations — made it a rallying song for Methodist missions. Early Methodists sang it in outdoor gatherings where ridicule and even violence were possible, and its confident refrain strengthened them to stand firm. Today it reminds us that worship is proclamation: declaring Christ’s kingdom in the face of the world’s opposition.

Scripture References: Psalm 113:3; Revelation 5:12–13; Philippians 2:10–11.

Excerpt:

“Ye servants of God, your Master proclaim,

And publish abroad His wonderful name.”

Reflection Questions:

How can your worship be a form of bold proclamation? Why is worship an act of courage in a hostile world? How does this hymn stretch your vision of God’s kingdom beyond your own context?

Full Lyrics: Read here

✨ Together, these hymns form not just a songbook, but a theology of grace, assurance, holiness, courage, and hope — the work of the Holy Spirit sung into the life of the church.