"“If therefore the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness!” Mt. 6:23.“

"Great indeed, because the person whose light has become darkness has an added torment 

because darkness not only hides realities,

but it produces all kinds of deceptive unrealities.

When a person’s moral or spiritual vision becomes corrupted and distorted, the harm is greater than simple ignorance.

Their inner “light” no longer reveals truth 

but creates illusions,

twisting reality so that good appears evil and evil appears good;

continually throwing up their twisted and malignant shadows.

Instead of calmly lacking sight, they become confident in their blindness,

proudly believing they see clearly while rejecting truth.

Their mind fills with distorted perceptions and feverish imaginings, reversing the natural order of things.

In such a state, the person cannot recognize what is truly good or divine; the whole universe appears inverted and corrupted,

like a sick palate that tastes sweetness as bitterness.

Bottom line -When conscience or spiritual insight becomes corrupted, it does more than hide truth—

it actively distorts reality,

causing a person to mistake evil for good and darkness for light."

 Jesus said, “I am the way." 

But how do we know the way? 

If you were visiting Galilee when Christ walked the earth, and you asked a resident, which "way" should I take to find Jesus?" He would point to the way Jesus walked and simply say, 

"Follow the signs."

 O the path will be filled with signs! 

There will be a once lame man walking and leaping praising God, 

there will be a blind man who sees for the first time! 

There will be souls that were the rejected and despised, brimming from ear to ear, finally feeling love and inclusion; 

the road will be littered with people restored, forgiven, 

and filled with the love of God!    

Jesus will have a wake of healing, compassion and loving-kindness deluging the "way" where He walked; 

the signs will be easy to follow! 

I have to ask myself, what wake do I leave behind me? 

 I read Col. 2:1-8 in "The Passion Translation," and the words just jumped off the page!!

I've been evangelizing a young woman online, we'll call her Susan,  and she immediately came to mind as I read this; so I personalized the passage a bit and sent it with prayers. 

"Hi Susan, I read a passage this morning and I just love it! 

Paul paints a vivid picture of the kingdom of God as Jesus taught it; I’ve inserted your name to personalize it. 

"Susan, I wish you could know how much I have struggled for you.   

I am contending for you that your heart will be 

wrapped in the comfort of heaven 

and woven together into love’s fabric.

This will give you access to all the riches of God as you experience the revealing of God’s great mystery —

Which is, Jesus the Christ.

Why do I struggle and care you may ask? 

Because our spiritual wealth is in Him, 

like hidden treasure waiting to be discovered—

heaven’s wisdom and endless riches of revelation knowledge are found in Him.

 

 

Seven women showed up for my church service at the jail last night, a wide mix of ages, colors and appearances. 

Outward appearances are always deceptive, one never sees the strength of the tides, currents and undertows below a seemingly calm surface.

 Prolonged struggle, deep anguish and hardship leaves its mark on the countenance: it extinguishes the light inside, and it's almost always visible.  

The meeting went well, and one woman approached me after and asked to talk, where she shared with me that her 13 year old daughter Emma, had attempted suicide: she survived with no permanent consequences, but it was close. The kind of close that leaves a mother replaying every second in her mind, wondering which breath might have been her child’s last. There are no words to describe the alarm in her voice; she was overwhelmed with anguish and helplessness, and with fearful, searching eyes looked to me to give her the answers she so desperately sought.

When she told me the story I pictured one of my granddaughters,  and I felt a gale force wave of helplessness surge over me, recognizing this little girl is completely out of reach of her Mother's consoling arms of love as she sits incarcerated on some petty, first offense misdemeanor, unable to even communicate with her child. The distance between them felt cruel and suffocating. My mind went blank and I just began to gush prayers with her and we pled for Christ's rescuing hand of protection.

I'm not sure I've ever felt so impotent, it haunts me... 

Emma has been provided counseling and her Mother hopes to be released in two days, the longest two days this woman will ever endure!

So as I drove home, with Emma and her Mother racing through my mind, so many unanswered questions running through my mind left me with one hope, the mercy of God. 

 

 

 

Am I a Stoic, or a Christian?

The following quote helps me understand the difference. 

“There is the Stoic's idol, chiseled by austere conscience, from the granitic masses of spiritual strength, and worshipped as the image of divine Justice, Majesty and Holiness. This has won and held captive the noblest spirits that are not wholly Christian, and glorified them to a manliness approaching something divine; yet wanting still the mellowing of pity, and the grace of sweet and glad affections.”

The writer is saying:

There exists a kind of moral ideal shaped by Stoicism — 

severe, 

disciplined, 

carved out of a hard and demanding conscience. 

It portrays God primarily as 

Justice, Majesty, and Holiness — 

strong, stern, and unbending.

This ideal has inspired many noble people who are not fully Christian. 

It has elevated them, giving them great strength, dignity, courage, and self-mastery — almost godlike in moral firmness.

But, the author says, something is still missing:

It lacks pity (tender compassion).

It lacks gentle and joyful affection.

It lacks warmth.

It is strong like granite — but not softened by love.

In worshipping the combination of attributes, through which Christ  has shown us the Father, there can be no fear that any duty will be forgotten, any taste corrupted, any aspiration laid asleep. 

Drawn upward by such an object, nothing in us can remain low and weak: the simplicity of the child, the strength of the man, the love of the woman, the thought of the sage, the courage of the martyr, the elevation of the saint, the purity of the angel, press and strive to unite and realize themselves within our souls. 

 Tell me—what do you see here? A young, beautiful woman holding her degree in a Master of Science in Clinical Epidemiology and Biostatistics, the parchment clasped in steady, accomplished hands?

Oh friend, that barely brushes the surface of her story.

Behind that gown stands a lion-hearted woman. An indefatigable spirit. A faith in Christ not polished by comfort, but forged in fire. That “little scroll of paper” was not handed to her by ease or privilege—it was wrestled from adversity by prayer, grit, and grace.

She was born into poverty, in a land where rebels roamed and children were not always safe; where corruption twisted justice and fear lingered in the background of daily life. Her father abandoned her. Her mother loved her fiercely—but love could not always shield her from hunger, hardship, or the relentless weight of survival. From childhood, she learned what it meant to work, to endure, to hope when hope seemed thin.

And yet—she rose.

That curving smile is more than pride. It is holy defiance.

It says: I will not be stopped.

It says: I will not surrender to the story written for me.

It says: By God’s gracious hand, I will go forward.

Every exam passed, every sleepless night endured, every doubt answered with prayer was a quiet act of rebellion against despair. She has overcome obstacles most of us will never have to imagine—let alone conquer.

So yes, you see a degree.

But I see courage baptized in suffering.

I see perseverance refined by trial.

I see a daughter who refused to let poverty define her future.

And I see a woman whose faith carried her where fear once stood guard.