For ourselves, we always want mercy. For everyone else, we want justice.

There is a tendency, pride even, when we read the story of the prodigal son, to fix our eyes either on the ostentatious lifestyle of the younger brother or the apparent callousness of the older. Oh, the pride of man.

If you remember how this story began, Jesus did not tell it in isolation. It was His response to the Pharisees and scribes who grumbled because He welcomed sinners and even ate with them. The younger son has dominated our attention for the past two weeks. We watched him demand his inheritance, journey into a far country, squander everything he had and finally discover that there was nothing in the world capable of satisfying the hunger of the human heart. We then stood with the father as he waited, watched and ran towards the son who had once wished him dead.

Part I

Part II

But Jesus is not finished.

Standing at the edge of the story is another son. Unlike his younger brother, he never leaves home. He stays and works. He serves his father diligently while his younger brother wastes everything he has been given. Yet somehow, by the end of the parable, Jesus reveals that although one son was far from the father’s house and the other never left it, both were equally far from the father’s heart.

There is another detail that is easy to overlook if we read this story with twenty-first-century eyes. In Middle Eastern culture, the eldest son occupied something of a quasi-parental role within the family. He was expected to help preserve the honour of the household and shoulder responsibility for the younger members of the family. If you remember the story of Joseph in Genesis, Reuben, the eldest brother, carries a deep sense of responsibility for Joseph’s safety and panics when he discovers that he is gone. In this story, however, the older brother never ventures after his younger brother. He remains at home while his father bears the grief of waiting alone.

Perhaps if you grew up with younger siblings, this feeling is not entirely unfamiliar. There are moments when you genuinely wonder whether your parents exchanged discipline for extraordinary patience the moment your younger sibling was born. You wonder, sometimes with anger, sometimes with resentment and perhaps even a little jealousy, how they seem to get away with everything while you are expected to be responsible, dependable and always do the right thing.

Anyway, eventually, the younger brother returns. Surely this should have been a day of rejoicing.

The older brother comes back from the field after another long day of labour and hears music and celebration long before he reaches the house. Confused, he asks one of the servants what is happening. When he is told that the celebration is for his younger brother who has returned safely, you would naturally expect relief or joy. But if he had long stopped hoping his brother would return, this news would have felt less like restoration and more like an injustice.

Luke tells us simply that he became angry and refused to go in.

While writing this part of the story, I found myself thinking about something I have observed, though certainly not always, within Christian circles.

Sometimes people who have grown up in church, who have faithfully followed the rules and tried to live honourable lives, struggle when people with visibly messy pasts encounter the same grace they themselves have received. I want to be careful with my words because I pray I am not misunderstood. I am not talking about grieving over sin because it grieves God’s heart. I am talking about the subtle pride that says, “Your past makes you less worthy than mine.”

Perhaps it is the young woman who has dressed modestly all her life looking down on another believer whose story looks very different from hers. Perhaps it is someone who has served faithfully in church for years becoming slowly resentful when another person is entrusted with leadership.

Or perhaps it is simply the hidden belief that because we have sacrificed more, served more or obeyed longer, God somehow owes us something in return.

That, I think, is the dangerous thing about becoming the older brother.

Pride has a way of blinding us to our own legalism. Before we realise it, our obedience becomes the basis of our confidence before God. Timothy Keller captures this beautifully when he explains that both sons are lost, though in very different ways. The younger brother is lost through self-discovery. He believes life will finally begin if he can simply live on his own terms. The older brother, however, is lost through moral conformity. He believes that because of his goodness, his obedience and his years of faithful service, God now owes him something.

Both are trying to save themselves. One through rebellion and the other through performance.

Perhaps that is why Timothy Keller concludes that both brothers have reduced God to a means of getting something else rather than loving Him simply because He is Father.

You see, we too can come to church, obey the rules, serve faithfully and read the good old Book, yet never stop to ask ourselves why we are doing these things in the first place. Are we obeying because we genuinely love Christ? Or are we trying to use our obedience as leverage before God? Have we begun performing for the applause of men rather than living before the face of God?

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We often forget that He is El Roi, the God who sees.

He sees far beyond outward performance. He sees beyond the ministries we lead, the positions we hold and the reputation we have built for ourselves. He sees the pride, the jealousy, the resentment and the hidden motives that no one else can see.

Perhaps that is the tragedy of the older brother.

The younger brother wandered far from home before discovering there was nowhere better than his father’s house. The older brother never left home, yet pride prevented him from enjoying the father who had always been there. He was close enough to touch his father, yet somehow remained far from his heart.

No wonder Revelation paints such a sobering picture of Christ standing outside the door of His own church, knocking to be let in. While that passage was written to the church in Laodicea, the image still confronts us. If Christ is outside while we are busy with religious activity inside, then we must pause long enough to ask ourselves what, or perhaps who, we are truly worshipping.

This is why we must examine our hearts regularly, asking the Lord to keep us from the subtle pride of our own works. Pride is so blinding that we can forget the very grace that brought us to Him in the first place. We must never allow our obedience to become a currency with which we think we can bargain with God. We obey because we love Him. We serve because He first loved us. Our lives belong to Him, not because we hope to gain something from Him, but because in Christ we have already received everything we truly need.

We should never give because we think generosity obligates God to multiply our wealth, though He faithfully provides for His children. Neither should we serve merely to be recognised as the “spiritual one.” At the end of it all, the opinions of men will fade away. There is only one voice that will matter, and it is the voice that says, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

My favourite part of this parable is that the father goes out to both sons. He runs to the younger son while he is still a long way off, and he leaves the celebration to plead with the older son in his anger. Neither son earns the father’s pursuit and neither son deserves his compassion. Yet the father goes to both.

That is the God we serve.

He does not fold His arms while His children attempt to save themselves, whether through reckless rebellion or religious performance. He comes towards us. He is slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness. We may change from one day to the next, but He does not. He was merciful yesterday, He is merciful today and He will be merciful tomorrow.

One of the most remarkable details in this parable is that Jesus never tells us how it ends.

The father invites the older brother into the celebration, but we are never told whether he goes in. It is almost as though Jesus intentionally leaves the story unfinished because the ending was never really about the older brother. It was about the Pharisees standing before Him, who now had to decide how they themselves would respond.

Would they continue trying to earn God’s favour through their own righteousness, or would they rejoice that the same grace they had received was now being extended to sinners?

Maybe that question now belongs to us as well.

Will we seek salvation through self-discovery like the younger brother, or through moral conformity like the older? Or will we finally lay both down at the feet of Christ and receive the grace that neither brother could ever earn?

May God continually guard our hearts from both kinds of lostness, reminding us that salvation has always been, and will always be, by grace alone.

Thanks for reading To My Brethren’s Substack! This newsletter is For my Brethren and To my Brethren. As God helps and leads me, I’ll continue to share various parts of my walk with God and insights from the Bible, with you. If you’ve been searching for a Christian buddy (read newsletter), then you are in the right place. Do you know anyone who needs this? Kindly encourage them to subscribe.

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When I finished writing about the younger son in the last part, I realised that for all the attention we often give to the son who left home, we sometimes overlook the benevolence and immense grace of the Father.

We watched the younger son demand his inheritance, chase freedom in a far country and eventually discover that everything he thought would satisfy him had only left him emptier than before. We watched him finally come to the end of himself and begin the long journey home. But what happens when someone who has publicly dishonoured his father finally decides to come home?

I genuinely believe it is one of the most beautiful questions this parable asks because the answer reveals one of the clearest pictures of God’s heart.

Now, Luke tells us something so easy to overlook in this parable. He says, “While he was still a long way off, his father saw him.” (Luke 15:20)

But how do you see someone who is still a long way off unless you have been looking for them?

For the father to have seen his son from afar, it suggests something that is really beautiful. It suggests that while the son was away chasing a life he thought would satisfy him, the father never really stopped looking. Every passing day may have ended in disappointment, yet still he looked.

Hope, it seems, had become part of his daily routine.

Remember, I mentioned in the last part that to ask for one’s inheritance while the father was still alive was, in essence, to wish him dead. The younger son had publicly humiliated his father, rejected his home and walked away with his wealth. Yet nowhere in the parable do we get the impression that the father stopped loving him. The son had forgotten his father, but the father never forgot his son.

Then one ordinary day, somewhere beyond the horizon, a familiar figure appeared. And the father ran.

To us, that sounds beautiful. ‘Oh, what a reunion’, but remember we were talking about the historical context as well and to Jesus’ first audience, it would have sounded astonishing.

What is not disputed is that a dignified Middle Eastern man of the father’s age would not run. Running required him to gather up his robes, exposing his legs; a posture considered deeply undignified. Kenneth Bailey observes that in doing so, the father willingly accepted public humiliation in order to receive his son before the village could heap its shame upon him.

But doesn’t that sound strangely familiar? The father in the parable gives us a faint glimpse of the greater story that would eventually unfold at Calvary.

The younger son, meanwhile, begins the speech he had undoubtedly rehearsed throughout the journey home. “Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.”

Perhaps he wanted his father to remember how grievous his offence had been because, standing before such overwhelming compassion, it almost seemed as though his father had chosen not to treat him according to what he had done.

And this my friends, is the beauty of forgiveness.

Not that God develops amnesia concerning our sin, but that, as the Psalmist writes, “as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us” (Psalm 103:12). Jeremiah also reminds us, God says, “I will forgive their iniquity, and I will remember their sin no more.”

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Now, before the son can even finish speaking, the father is already calling for the servants. Bring the best robe, put a ring on his finger, put sandals on his feet and kill the fattened calf.

And yet again, if we miss the historical context, we miss the beauty of what is happening here.

The father restores his son with three objects: a robe, a ring and sandals. At first glance, they seem like ordinary gifts. But to those listening to Jesus tell this parable, Jesus' first-century Jewish audience, each one carried a meaning that would have been impossible to miss.

The robe was a public declaration that the son had been restored to honour. Kenneth Bailey points out that it was most likely the father’s own finest robe. The guests would immediately recognise whose robe it was and understand that the father himself had restored his son to his former place within the family.

Then the ring. Most scholars understand this to have been a signet ring, one that carried the authority to conduct business on behalf of the family. The father was not merely forgiving his son; he was entrusting him with responsibility again.

Then came the sandals and that detail is so easy to overlook. But you see, slaves went barefoot while free sons wore sandals. So before the younger son could even ask to become a servant, the father had already dressed him like a son.

The father did not merely forgive him, He fully restored him to sonship.

I wonder how many of us secretly fear that God will receive us back, but only barely. That perhaps we will spend the rest of our lives living as second-class children, forever trying to earn back what grace had once freely given.

But this is just one of the many lies of the devil.

Your Father’s arms have never been folded in disappointment. His arms are always wide open in expectation of your return home. I like to imagine him standing at the top of that hill long before the son ever appeared, his eyes wandering towards the road disappearing into the distance.

“Is that him?” “Is that my son?”

“Has he finally come home?”

Regardless of how many days passed or how many passing travellers momentarily raised his hopes, he still looked. Still, he waited. Still, he hoped.

Friend, perhaps you have wandered farther than you ever intended or maybe shame has convinced you that there is no road back, that you have exhausted God’s patience or somehow outrun his mercy.

If there is anything this part of the parable teaches us, it is that the Father is not waiting at the top of the hill to shame you for how far you have gone.

He is waiting because he longs to have you back.

And who knows? Maybe this is not a coincidence. I do not know where this article finds you or what road has brought you here, but I know this much: no one who truly turns towards the Father will ever discover that his mercy and grace have been depleted. Even where sin abounds, grace abounds much more, and for every heart that genuinely repents, God’s grace and mercy have already been waiting at the end of the road.

But Jesus is still not finished telling this story.

Remember why he told this parable in the first place. It was spoken in response to the Pharisees and scribes who grumbled that Jesus welcomed sinners and even shared a table with them.

That means there is still another character we have not paid enough attention to. While everyone is celebrating inside the house, another son is standing outside. The son who never left home or even squandered an inheritance.

And yet, somehow, he too is far from the Father’s heart.

We’ll meet him in the final part of this parable and I hope to see you around :)

Thanks for reading To My Brethren’s Substack! This newsletter is For my Brethren and To my Brethren. As God helps and leads me, I’ll continue to share various parts of my walk with God and insights from the Bible with you. If you’ve been searching for a Christian buddy (read newsletter), then you are in the right place. Do you know anyone who needs this? Kindly encourage them to subscribe.

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So over the next few weeks, I want to begin a new series where we slowly walk through some of Jesus’ parables, to step back into the historical and cultural world in which they were spoken. My hope is that as we recover some of the context that time and culture have buried, we might discover that these stories are far richer, far more confronting and far more beautiful than we have often imagined them to be.

I can’t think of no better place to begin than perhaps Jesus’ most famous parable: the Prodigal Son.

When many of us read the parable of the Prodigal Son, we have the tendency to reduce it to nothing more than the reunion of a father with the son who went astray. Beautiful as that reunion is, the story runs much deeper than that.

In fact, before Jesus even begins telling the parable, Luke gives us a detail that changes everything.

He writes:

“Tax collectors and other notorious sinners often came to listen to Jesus teach. This made the Pharisees and teachers of religious law complain that he was associating with such sinful people—even eating with them! So Jesus told them this story.” (Luke 15:1–3)

The parable of the Prodigal Son was actually the third story Jesus told in response to that complaint.

Now Luke is a meticulous writer. He is not the kind of person to include details simply because he has nothing else to say. So when he tells us exactly who was standing there and exactly why Jesus began speaking, he is inviting us to pay attention because that little detail changes the way we read the entire parable.

It suggests that perhaps the younger son was never the primary target of the story after all. Perhaps Jesus had someone else in mind all along. But we will come back to that.

For now, let us begin where Jesus begins.

The Younger son.

Perhaps we should even start with the title itself.

Many of us unconsciously assume the word simply means someone who leaves home and eventually comes back. But that is not what the word means at all. Webster’s Dictionary defines prodigal as someone who is recklessly extravagant, lavish or wasteful with money and resources. In other words, the title is describing not where the son went but how he lived.

Now the story begins with what appears to us today to be an ordinary request: the younger son asks his father for his inheritance.

Perhaps to our twenty-first-century minds, that does not sound particularly offensive. After all, inheritances today are discussed while parents are still alive. Estates are planned, wills are written and families talk about these things openly.

But first-century Middle Eastern listeners would have gasped the moment Jesus said those words because what the younger son had just done was far more than ask for money.

He was essentially saying to his father, “I wish you were dead.”

An inheritance was distributed after the father’s death. To demand it while he was still living was to treat him as though he were already gone. It was one of the deepest acts of dishonour a son could commit against his father.

And yet remarkably, the father grants the request.

I have often wondered what must have gone through the younger son’s mind as he walked away from home that day. Perhaps excitement throbbed in his heart and he thought, Finally.

Finally, I am free, and I can now live life on my own terms. Finally I can become my own master.

Kenneth Bailey observes that, theologically, Jesus is showing us something about the human heart itself. Humanity, in its rebellion against God, does not merely ignore him. We often wish to live as though he were absent altogether.

And is that not still our story?

At the heart of every sinner lies that same desire for independence. We convince ourselves that God is imposing on us with his commands. That his instructions are restrictions rather than protection. That life would somehow be better if only we could become masters of our own destinies.

“I want to be my own god.”

“I want to determine what is good for me.”

“I want to decide how my story unfolds.”

That has always been the oldest and first temptation. In Eden, the serpent did not merely tempt Eve with fruit. He tempted her with autonomy.

And we have been chasing that illusion ever since.

I can almost picture the younger son leaving home that morning. His father’s wealth now safely in his possession. The road stretching endlessly before him. His imagination already painting pictures of the life that awaited him beyond the horizon.

How many dreams must have occupied his heart? How many plans? How many fantasies about the freedom he thought he had finally found? But there is one thing he had forgotten.

Our hearts were never created to be sustained by created things. They were created to rest in their Creator.

I sometimes wonder what happened after the parties ended. I wonder whether he ever walked home beneath a quiet night sky, his laughter fading as the streets emptied, asking himself why happiness still seemed just beyond his reach.

His belly full of alcohol and his body aching from nights of dancing. Surrounded by everything he once believed would finally satisfy him. And yet, still empty and restless. He was still carrying within him a hunger that neither money nor pleasure seemed able to touch.

It reminds me of Darey’s song Pray For Me. The son thought everything he needed could be found in the far country, but he would later discover something many of us spend our entire lives learning: our understanding of what we need is limited by what we know.

We chase fame because we think it will make us significant. We chase money because we think it will make us secure. We chase success because we think it will finally quiet the restlessness within us.

But we do not know whether the fame will slowly turn us into a stranger to ourselves. We do not know whether the success will become a convenient distraction from the wounds we were supposed to heal from.

We simply assume that because we desire something, it must also be good for us. We often forget that the One who made our hearts understands them infinitely better than we ever will.

It is why, just like the younger son would later learn, it is a dangerous thing to go our own way believing we understand life well enough to figure it out without the help of our Father, the maker of all things, the One who knows things we could never even conceive of.

Now the same riches that must have convinced the younger son he had finally found his ticket to paradise, the same riches that convinced him, “Now you can truly begin to live,” would eventually come to an end.

Worldly pleasures have a way of making extravagant promises they were never created to fulfil. They invite you in with the illusion of permanence, only to leave you stranded when they have taken everything they came for.

So just like that, the son who had once left home with pockets full and his head held high was now sitting in a pigsty, wishing he could fill his stomach with the very food being thrown to pigs.

Think about how tragic that is.

This was a son who had grown up in his father’s house, where even the servants had more than enough to eat, yet here he was envying animals. The same man who once believed he had finally become free had become a prisoner to the consequences of his own rebellion.

Luke tells us something that has always broken my heart. He says, “No one gave him anything.”

No one.

I often wonder where all the friends went. Where were the people who must have laughed with him at the parties? Where were the companions who celebrated him while the money flowed so freely? Perhaps they disappeared with the riches. Perhaps their loyalty had always been to his possessions rather than to his person. The love of man can be frighteningly conditional, but there is a love that neither increases with our abundance nor diminishes with our lack.

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Perhaps this is how the enemy has always lured humanity away from the safety of being under the Father’s covering. He dangles before us the very things we have been praying for. You look to your right and your friend seems to have everything you have spent months asking God for. You look to your left and people appear to be getting away with the very things God specifically warned you against.

For a fleeting moment, doubt quietly creeps into your heart. What if I can get away with it too? What if God is simply withholding something good from me?

But that has always been one of the oldest lies the enemy tells. God’s commands were never given to inhibit us; they were given because he loves us. They are not fences designed to keep joy out. They are boundaries lovingly placed around our lives to keep destruction out.

Just like the younger son, there are moments in our walk with God when sin slowly begins to appear more pleasurable than communion with him. It rarely begins with our actions. It almost always begins in our hearts.

Long before the younger son physically left home, he had already departed in his heart. His journey to the far country simply revealed a decision that had already been made within him. As GotQuestions puts it, his physical departure was merely the outward display of a will that had already chosen independence from his father.

Perhaps that is how it happens for us too. We begin to entertain sins that once grieved us. We convince ourselves they are not really that serious. We slowly trivialise the very things that cost the blood of God made flesh to redeem. And the enemy, always watching for opportunities to steal, kill and destroy, builds upon those little compromises until one day we find ourselves much farther from home than we ever intended to travel.

That is why I think the story of the younger son is not the story of an unbeliever. It is the story of every believer who has ever wandered. Every Christian who has slowly drifted from intimacy with God into the far country of self-reliance, hidden sin or rebellion can find themselves somewhere in this young man’s story.

Perhaps this is the beautiful tragedy of having truly encountered the love of the Father. Once you have tasted his love in all its undeserved, unconditional and guiltless beauty, something about you is permanently marked.

The world can offer you substitutes, but it can never offer you an equivalent. The enemy knows this too, which is why he packages his pleasures so beautifully. He dresses them in attractive colours, wraps them in promises of freedom and fulfilment, hoping we will mistake imitation for the real thing.

But our hearts were made for Jesus.

The moment we begin placing idols upon the throne that belongs to God alone, we feel a strange discontent we cannot explain because we have tasted what true satisfaction feels like, and every counterfeit now leaves us emptier than before. What the world offers us may produce pleasure for a moment, but it is a shallow happiness at best, one that evaporates almost as quickly as it arrives.

Also, somewhere beneath that disappointment, there is often anger too. Anger because what was advertised as our ticket to happiness has became the very source of our misery.

Yet the beauty of this story is that the pigsty is not where it ends.

For anyone who comes to the end of themselves, for anyone who finally realises that the pleasures of this world are little more than the enemy’s counterfeit attempts at happiness, there is always a road that leads home. The moment a sinner truly repents—not merely by turning away from sin but by turning their heart back towards the Father—they will always find grace waiting for them.

Because though the son was prodigal in the way he squandered his inheritance, the Father, too, is prodigal.

Prodigal in mercy. Prodigal in grace. Prodigal in love.

I have often wondered whether the pigsty was actually grace in disguise because perhaps if the younger son had remained comfortable, he would never have realised how far he had wandered.

Sometimes God, in his mercy, allows us to come to the end of ourselves so that we might finally discover that he has been enough all along.

Maybe we have not travelled to a far country physically, but our hearts have wandered. Maybe we have looked for life in places that could only ever imitate what only God can truly give. Maybe, like the younger son, we have discovered that the promises of the world are often loud enough to convince us to leave home but never strong enough to satisfy us once we get there.

But here is the beautiful thing about this story: no matter how far you have wandered, there is always a road back home. No one who truly turns to the Father will ever find the door shut against them.

What does the Father do when a son who has publicly dishonoured him finally decides to come home? That, perhaps, is the most beautiful part of this entire parable, and it is one of the perfect picture of God’s heart.

Well, the next part of this series talks exactly about that. I hope to see you next time :)

Thanks for reading To My Brethren’s Substack! This newsletter is For my Brethren and To my Brethren. As God helps and leads me, I’ll continue to share various parts of my walk with God and insights from the Bible, with you. If you’ve been searching for a Christian buddy (read newsletter), then you are in the right place. Do you know anyone who needs this? Kindly encourage them to subscribe.

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Though he was God, he did not think of equality with God as something to cling to. Instead, he gave up his divine privileges; he took the humble position of a slave and was born as a human being.
(Philippians 2:6-7)

There are a lot of striking stories and events in the Bible and one of such, for me, is the washing of the disciples’ feet by Jesus. You see, there are a lot of Bible stories we gloss over because we don’t have the historical context to understand their full meaning, and I think this is one of them.

What looks like a beautiful act of humility is actually one of the most socially radical things Jesus ever did, and I want to try to explain why.

Jesus was a Jew and during his lifetime, the Jews were ruled by a people called the Romans. Now before I get to the feet, I need you to understand something about how these Romans thought about power and leadership, because you cannot fully appreciate what happened in that upper room without first understanding the world that had shaped every single person in it.

The foundation of Roman society was something called the clientela, which is simply a patron and client relationship. The patrons, called patroni, were the wealthy, the aristocrats, the politicians and the upper members of society who provided money, protection, sponsorship and access to power. The clients, called clientes, were the people beneath them: ordinary citizens, commoners, freed slaves.

Now in exchange for the financial assistance and protection that the patrons provided, the clients would perform a ritual every single morning called the salutatio. They would walk to the homes of their patrons, wait outside, pay their respects, ask for favours, legal, financial or political, and the patron would acknowledge them.

But here is what stood out to me: the patron never returned the formal greeting. The entire interaction flowed in one direction: Upward. The lesser person always came to the greater person. The greater person never came down.

Now the Romans were a people absolutely consumed by honour and what they called dignitas. Dignitas was not just about public adulation; it was the total sum of a person’s reputation, social standing, worth and public virtue. It was everything. Roman leaders were so protective of their dignitas that historical accounts tell us prominent Romans would rather kill, go into exile or even take their own lives than allow it to be publicly diminished. That is how precious it was and how fragile it could be.

So what this means is that for the Romans, leadership was what I would describe as a kind of entrenchment. The goal was always to hold what you had, take more, protect your status and make sure that the flow of power and honour always moved in your direction. Leadership, in their world, always looked up and outward. It never looked down.

Now to understand what makes this moment so radical, we must first understand what foot-washing actually meant in the ancient world. Part of the daily life of people in first-century Judea was the washing of feet, and it was as routine and necessary as brushing our teeth is for us today.

People in that era wore open sandals and walked on unpaved, dusty roads everywhere they went, so your feet were essentially dirty at all times, and washing them before meals or before entering a home was simply basic hygiene and hospitality. It was simply what you did.

But now here is where things get really interesting.

Foot-washing was not just anyone’s job. In any household that had servants, it was a task reserved for the lowest of the low, the slave at the very bottom of an already degraded social order. In fact, later Jewish tradition went so far as to say that not even a low-ranking Jewish slave would be assigned this particular task, it was given to a Gentile slave, meaning a slave who was not Jewish.

The social meaning behind all of this was very clear. Whoever holds the basin is subordinate to whoever holds out their feet. The person kneeling is declaring themselves lower than the person being served, and those whose feet were being washed were understood to be socially superior to the one doing the washing. Scholar Richard Bauckham writes that foot-washing was practically synonymous with slavery itself. It was a ceremony of hierarchy whether anyone meant it that way or not.

Now remember what we established earlier. The Romans who ruled the Jews had built an entire civilisation on the idea that leadership means moving upward, accumulating more, protecting your dignitas at all costs, and that the greater person never comes down to the level of the lesser person. That was the world these disciples had grown up in. That was the only model of leadership and greatness they had ever seen and that is exactly why what happens next in John 13 is so astonishing.

Now here is what makes what Jesus did absolutely radical.

Before Jesus got up to wash their feet, John is very deliberate about what he tells us first. He writes that “Jesus knew the Father had given him authority over everything, that he had come from God and was returning to God. So he got up from the table, took off his robe, wrapped a towel around his waist, and poured water into a basin. Then he began to wash the disciples’ feet, drying them with the towel he had around his waist”. (John 13:3-5).

That detail John gives us at the beginning is everything. Unlike the Roman leaders who would rather accumulate more wealth and dignitas and never even return the morning greetings of their clients, here is a man who has just concluded that God has given him authority over the entire universe and what he does with that knowledge is pick up a basin and get on his knees.

How mindblowing is that really.

Think about it this way. What would you do if you woke up tomorrow and discovered that you owned every business, every treasury, every resource in the entire world. Most of us would at the very least change our address.

But Jesus had not only all the wealth in the world, he had all power in this world and in the entire universe, and what he chose to do with that knowledge was wash his disciples’ feet.

This is even more radical when you consider that the disciples had been arguing among themselves about which of them was the greatest. They were having a very Roman conversation about status and rank and who deserved to sit highest, and it makes complete sense because that was the only model of greatness they had known for most of their lives.

But now Jesus comes and shows them in the most visceral way possible that knowledge of your authority as a leader is not an opportunity to amass more or to place yourself above those you have been called to serve. Knowledge of your authority, true knowledge, should cause you to kneel. It should cause you to get your hands dirty because that is what greatness actually looks like in the kingdom of God.

Then there is Peter, of course Peter, who refused to let Jesus wash his feet. Now some people read Peter’s reaction as performative or even obnoxious but I genuinely understand him. These disciples had spent over three years following Jesus closely, and in that time they had watched him feed five thousand people with almost nothing, walk on the surface of the sea, curse a fig tree and watch it wither, command storms and waves into silence with just his words.

So to sit there and allow this same man to perform a task ordinarily reserved for the most degraded slave in a household would have felt not just uncomfortable but almost wrong to Peter. “Lord,” he says, “are you going to wash my feet?”

What I hear in that question is the sound of a man whose entire understanding of power and greatness is colliding with something he has absolutely no framework for.

Indeed, the old hymn that says there is no such friend as the lowly Jesus is not just poetry. It is a testimony to what manner of love this man from Galilee has shown us. Having full knowledge of his power, his might and his grandeur, he did not use it to walk the path of pride. He used it to kneel.

What will knowledge of your authority cause you to do?

But I have saved the most extraordinary part for last.

Jesus washed the feet of all twelve disciples, including Judas. The very one who had already agreed in his heart to hand him over to be killed was sitting in that room, and Jesus knelt before him too and took his feet in his hands and washed them.

Knowing what this man was about to do, knowing that God had given him complete authority and power, and using all of that knowledge to do nothing but wash the feet of his betrayer. You see, the Mosaic law commanded an eye for an eye, which Jesus had every right and power to invoke, and where Roman leadership would have destroyed an enemy in order to protect and increase their dignitas, Jesus bowed his knees and washed the feet of the man who would kill him.

What a man. What a God.

In conclusion, I’ll say, Roman leadership said that power is something to be accumulated, displayed and protected at any cost, even at the cost of other people’s lives and dignity.

But Jesus is showing us that true greatness in his kingdom is the exact opposite. It is emptying yourself out. It is giving yourself away in service to God and to the people he has placed in your path.

Indeed, we serve God by serving others.

For the Christian man, greatness is not the balance in our bank accounts, a massive entourage, the accumulation of wealth, our rank on any social ladder or even fame. Greatness is dying empty, having lived a life poured out in purposeful service to God by serving his people.

In this kingdom, to be first we must be a doulos first, which RC Trench describes as one who is in a permanent relation of servitude to another, his will altogether swallowed up in the will of the other.

When you’re born in a burning house, you learn to mistake survival for living.

I often tell my friends that it takes more than words to not repeat the mistakes and traits we did not like in our parents. There is a quote that says you will think the whole world is on fire if you grew up in a house that was always burning. I honestly think that is true in more ways than one.

When chaos is all you have known, peace can start feeling unfamiliar.

Sometimes we inherit more than physical features from our parents; we inherit fears, survival mechanisms, unhealthy patterns, silent grief and ways of seeing the world. And one of the scariest thing is that you can hate something so much and still slowly begin to look like it unconsciously.

I think that is why healing requires far more intentionality than anger does.

As Gen Z, there is often this subtle superiority complex we carry especially towards older generations. Maybe because of globalization and the internet, we are exposed to more information, more conversations around mental health, trauma, emotional intelligence and self-awareness than many of our parents ever were. We know how to communicate better in some ways. We know how to identify toxic patterns quicker. We know how to name wounds that previous generations simply endured in silence.

Some of them got married very young. Some became parents almost immediately after marriage. Some were raising children while still carrying unhealed versions of themselves. Some never had access to the emotional vocabulary we now possess. Some grew up in environments where survival was more urgent than softness. And even in many parts of the world, especially here in Nigeria and across Africa, there was little access to proper education on emotional health, parenting or even reproductive healthcare.

This does not excuse the hurt. But it explains some of it.

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I think understanding this is important because unforgiveness locks you in a prison all by yourself. Psychology even tells us that unresolved resentment often keeps the body in prolonged states of stress and hypervigilance. The wound may become old but the body keeps reliving it like it just happened yesterday.

Bitterness is also strange like that; it convinces you that you are protecting yourself while quietly hardening you from the inside.

Forgiving them also helps you build a different life for yourself because holding on to hate may feel easier at first but eventually it becomes a language your heart grows too fluent in. But how can you ever have peace if your heart that only knows war?

Sometimes we hold on to anger because it feels safer than vulnerability. Hate can start feeling like armor. But armor is heavy, my friend. Eventually, it exhausts the person wearing it.

Healing cannot fully begin while resentment is still sitting comfortably in the living room of your heart.

So please, forgive your parents for the mistakes they made. And you know the funny thing? They might not even deserve it. They may still be repeating those same habits even now. They may never apologize in the way you hoped they would. They may never even fully understand how deeply they hurt you.

But forgiveness is about refusing to let the wound become your identity regardless of whether they ever take responsibility for the wounds they inflicted or not.

If you truly want to live differently for God, for yourself and for the people around you, forgiveness is the first step. After this, comes the difficult part: deliberately healing and unlearning. Deliberately tearing down the mental prisons their mistakes built inside you. Deliberately teaching yourself that though you may have lived in a house constantly on fire, you can still build a home on Christ the solid rock.

Do not just say you will not repeat their mistakes. Talk is cheap. Even hatred alone is not enough motivation because unresolved pain has a way of recreating itself.

Forgive them, heal and then do the hard and intentional work of becoming different.

I'd love to hear your thoughts. Feel free to leave a comment or write back to me. A little piece of your story is always welcome here (Although it may accidentally become the next article:)).

Thanks for reading To My Brethren’s Substack! This newsletter is For my Brethren and To my Brethren. As God helps and leads me, I’ll continue to share various parts of my walk with God and insights from the Bible, with you. If you’ve been searching for a Christian buddy (read newsletter), then you are in the right place. Do you know anyone who needs this? Kindly encourage them to subscribe.

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Dear brothers and sisters, if another believer is overcome by some sins, you who are godly should gently and humbly help that person back onto the right path. And be careful not to fall into the same temptation yourself (Galatians 6:1 NLT)

Part I

Part II

Part III

Even from an early age, I have always loved music and reading. Maybe it was my need to escape or my overwhelming desire to interact with another world apart from the one I dwell in, whatever it was, music and books always provided me with that escape. I remember how I would pick a book and just disappear into my room for hours. Every single worry of mine will slowly fade into the background while I entered another world entirely.

There was nothing I would not read about and there was almost no music I would not listen to. I was really liberal in my choices because I just wanted to consume everything art that felt beautiful.

But when I gave my life to Christ, these things would become a huge problem.

Now if you grew up Nigerian, especially in very orthodox circles, there was a particular way to look, behave and speak as a young child. If not, mothers would start doubting your salvation and your parents’ ability to parent you properly and if they were feeling especially generous, they would gladly step into the parenting role for them.

Artificial nails reduced your salvation because apparently no man wants to marry an “unoriginal” woman and artificial nails automatically made you one. Let us not even get into makeup or artificial lashes because that was almost like signing an agreement with the devil himself. And as a young child, I would often wonder what exactly was going on and why looking good and loving Christ seemed to flow in opposite directions. It was almost as though everything that made me feel expressive or beautiful was automatically suspicious.

And so early on, I began to notice how people who did not fit into those standards were treated. The side comments. The glances. The “prayer points” that were actually gossip wearing church clothes. It really was one of the nastiest things and I dare say this is how church hurt started for many people.

But that is barely the surface of what I want to say.

You see, starting from little things like this, anyone who did not fit into the “church girl” or “church boy” aesthetics was not really treated well regardless of how little about their lives was actually known. And now this breeds into even more serious issues.

When I was growing up and people backslid, there was this disdain and air of superiority with which church people discussed these things especially if the person never really fit into the previous aesthetic of “good church child.” It was almost as though their fall was anticipated with excitement.

And it always confused me deeply because how do we call someone brother or sister in Christ and yet the moment they slip in their walk with God, everybody’s instinct becomes distancing themselves from that person? Why so? I could never really understand it.

The teenager who got pregnant suddenly becomes safer in the slums than in church. The drunk man becomes unfazed by church people who wrinkle their noses at him while walking into service on Sunday morning. The abused woman runs to the church for help and is instead greeted with “but what exactly were you wearing?”

I grew up thinking maybe things would eventually change and honestly I think they have, at least a little. But now there is sometimes more celebration for the new sheep entering the fold than compassion for the old sheep that wandered and is trying to return home bruised and ashamed.

So am I making an argument to love sin? Absolutely not.

But I digress. Back to my obsession with music and books.

When I gave my life to Christ, I had no idea that my confession of His lordship over my life would come to redefine so many things. And I think this is one part of evangelism we sometimes soften too much, maybe in an attempt to make Christianity appear less costly than it actually is.

But to truly follow Christ is to accept His lordship over your life in every season and every corner of your heart. He becomes the king of your desires, not just your Sunday mornings.And how does He do this? Through sanctification.

Ah friend, I digress once more in my storytelling.

The year I gave my life to Christ, I had exactly 1024 songs on my phone and not a single one was Christian music. In fact, Christ had been pulling at my heart for a while but I genuinely could not imagine letting go of these musical companions that had comforted me for years. They had accompanied me through loneliness, through boredom, through teenage emotions I did not even know how to explain.

And I knew very little about sanctification then, but I knew enough to know that some of those songs were not things God’s child should delight in. So I stalled surrendering my life to God. Because to me then, it felt like it was either the music or God.

But eventually God caught up with me and I remember the day I sat down and deleted those 1024 songs. Writing this now, I can still remember the grief of it. It felt so small and dramatic at the same time. Like a funeral nobody else could understand. I had always thought Christian music was boring and I genuinely did not know how I would survive without my carefully curated discography.

And so the struggle began.

You see, in the heart of everyone who has truly decided to follow Christ is indeed a desire to please Him not just in words but in deed. The moment you give your life to God, a war begins between your flesh that longs to gratify itself and your spirit that now longs for God. Galatians 5:17 says “For the flesh desires what is contrary to the Spirit, and the Spirit what is contrary to the flesh.”

My friend, the struggle is truly real.

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It is why you sometimes feel uncomfortable watching certain things now. Why some songs suddenly sound emptier than they used to. Why something in you recoils even while another part still craves it. Something in you is being redesigned and reprogrammed to what God originally intended.

And so for months, I struggled greatly. On one hand was my intense and burning love for the Lord. Oh my goodness, the passion I felt in those first few months after giving my life to Christ was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. I remember leaving my room for the reading room with my Bible and just reading and praying for hours.

But I still could not fully let go of my musical companions and I felt like such a hypocrite. I would pray and read my Bible for hours and then go blast secular songs and spend the next few hours drowning in guilt.

One thing many of us forget when it comes to habits and addictions is that these things were not built overnight. Neuroscience even shows that repeated habits literally create neural pathways in the brain over time. Familiarity itself becomes comforting. Sometimes the habit is no longer even pleasurable, it is just familiar. And human beings naturally cling to familiarity because the brain interprets familiar things as safe even when they are unhealthy.

So when people say “just stop,” they forget that some habits have wrapped themselves around people’s lives like roots around concrete. Maybe that is why sanctification often feels less like fireworks and more like gardening. Very slow and really messy.

But friend, I promise you, the more you keep your gaze on Jesus, the lighter that burden becomes.

Because of the guilt I felt, it was not something I would discuss with Jesus and this was a huge deal because for a long time I genuinely had no close Christian friends except Him. I told Him everything. But this became the elephant in the room in our relationship.

Until one day after checking my Spotify Wrapped for the second year in a row and still seeing artists this version of me that loved Jesus was not proud of, I finally surrendered the battle to God. I stopped trying to win through self-hatred and finally allowed the Holy Spirit to help me.

But honestly, I have more grief for church people than for the struggling believer.

Considering the culture many of us grew up in, telling another Christian “I am struggling with this thing” often feels more dangerous than the struggle itself. We are sometimes so quick to summarise people’s entire lives from one weakness.

The average Nigerian Christian who has spent years in church somehow believes transformation should happen instantly if you truly love Jesus. And yes, miracles happen. There was an artist I used to obsess over and one day I genuinely realised I had not listened to him in months. The desire simply disappeared.

But that is not always the standard.

Growth is gradual and God sometimes heals people in layers. There are genuinely people who deeply love God and are still struggling in certain areas of their lives. That struggle does not automatically make them fake Christians.

I am careful with my words because there are indeed people who love their flesh more than God and have made pleasure their idol. But there are also people who genuinely love Jesus and are still learning how to die daily.

We must not make it harder for the Holy Spirit to do His work in people’s hearts. We should not with our judgmental stares and gossip disguised as concern tear apart people whom God is still healing.

This series has stretched me, convicted me, comforted me and most importantly, reminded me over and over again that God is as interested in our hearts as He is about our performances. And maybe that is one of the hardest things for us as human beings to truly accept because we are so used to measuring everything by outward appearance, results and optics. But God is not man. He sees both the intentions and the actions and he judges accordingly.

We must remember that while we might escape many things on earth, we cannot escape standing before Yahweh to give account of our words, actions and even the hidden motives of our hearts. Scripture says “For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ” (2 Corinthians 5:10). This should humble all of us daily.

So it is important to ask ourselves questions like this often: if God was physically standing here beside me, would I still speak to this person this way? Would I still mock them? Would I still post this? Would I still entertain this bitterness? But the funny thing is that he is here. God is not absent from our private moments. He listens. He sees. And scripture says he “will render to each person according to what they have done” (Romans 2:6).

Someone who saw me blasting lewd songs during the week and then raising holy hands on Sunday would probably have thought, what a hypocrite. And maybe at a point, I truly was. But thank God the story did not end there. God is still in the business of sanctifying hearts and making old things pass away. What was once a struggle does not have to remain your identity forever.

I think this is where both sides need mercy. The struggling Christian must trust God enough to help them delight in him above worldly pleasures because it is only in him that the restless heart truly finds peace.

But the Christian who has “been in church long enough” must also be careful not to become a professional scorekeeper of other people’s failures. We should not be so quick to raise our red pens and begin grading people’s lives while forgetting how patient God has been with us too. Especially when we can discern, even faintly, that this is someone who genuinely loves the Lord and is striving to please him despite their weaknesses.

Jesus himself had tax collectors, zealots, prostitutes and deeply broken people around him. The gospel has always been scandalous like that. Grace has always offended self-righteous people. But if Christ could transform people like that, then surely none of us should behave as though anybody is too far gone for God.

PS: I still listen to secular music, just nothing lewd or worldly. God and him alone is my greatest delight and I genuinely love living my life to please him. But that does not suddenly make the process of letting go of things you have loved all your life easy. No, it does not.

Sometimes sanctification feels like learning to loosen your grip from things that once felt like home.

But over time, I have realized how superficial so many things are and how only a love like God’s truly stays until the very end. And somehow, that realization makes it easier to let certain things go. The Holy Spirit has really helped and sanctified my heart over the years and most of those songs simply do not hold the same appeal anymore.

And I truly believe that if you stop staring endlessly at yourself and your failures and instead look unto Jesus and trust him for help, you too will watch him slowly destroy the habits, addictions and desires that have wrapped themselves around your walk with him for years.

Despite everything I have said in this series, I genuinely enjoyed growing up in church. I did. Some of my sweetest memories were formed there. Some of the people who loved me most sincerely were church people too.

My very good friends, thank you really for staying with me through these past four weeks. I genuinely had little to no expectations when I started this series. In fact, I had no proper plan at all. Every Friday, I simply thought about one thing that did not sit right with me as a Nigerian Christian who grew up in Nigeria and I trusted the Lord to help me say the right words.

Thank you for every message, every share, every repost, every thoughtful conversation and every kind word. You people have no idea how much it meant to me.

I pray God continues to help us all to do better as his children and as lights in such a dark generation. May our hearts ever remain tender and gracious. Amen.

Thanks for reading To My Brethren’s Substack! This newsletter is For my Brethren and To my Brethren. As God helps and leads me, I’ll continue to share various parts of my walk with God and insights from the Bible, with you. If you’ve been searching for a Christian buddy (read newsletter), then you are in the right place. Do you know anyone who needs this? Kindly encourage them to subscribe.

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Sometimes the questions you bury do not die. They simply grow teeth in the dark.

Part I

Part II

You see there are a lot of things particular to Nigeria and the culture in Nigeria. There is the spectacular cultural wedding tradition, there is the working culture, there is the “African parent” culture and so many more. Some beautiful, some exhausting, some so deeply woven into us that we do not even realize how much they have shaped the way we see ourselves, people and even God.

One of the things I experienced when I was growing up was the worship or should I say Nigerians’ obsession with respect. It is unlike anything I have ever seen before. There are many ways in which this shows up. For example, you do not call anyone older than you, even by a few days, by their names. Not your boss, not your older brother, not relatives and most especially not your parents.

I have an older brother who is more friend than anything and there is a lot of banter between us and I remember growing up everyone, especially church moms would insist that I do not call him by his name and add “Bro xyz” or “Uncle xyz.”

I really do not know what made them believe that adding a prefix instead of making children understand what respect actually was would magically infuse respect into them. But you could add all the prefixes in the world to a person’s name and still hold no respect for them in your heart.

Another case of this obsession with respect which I really do want to talk about was how we were implicitly commanded not to ask questions from older people.

It was not always verbally commanded but you could see it in the body language of adults when you asked them questions. The slight frown or the incredulous look. That look that silently screams: “Who are you?” or “Who gave you the audacity, child?”

And as a child, you will either learn to seek those answers elsewhere or you totally bury the questions altogether until they grow roots inside you.

You see this obsession with respect was more of enforcing a power dynamic than actually teaching children how to respect older people. You would then wonder how a country obsessed with the worship of respect would end up with leaders and even citizens who have low respect and dignity for the common man’s life.

I might be wrong and of course what I mentioned does not apply to all but I genuinely think it is because many of us were never really taught what respect meant. Respect was often centered around older people and this reinforced an unhealthy power dynamic because now younger people, children and youth generally were treated as undeserving or less deserving of respect. Meanwhile everyone deserves to be respected.

And like many childhood patterns, it follows us quietly into adulthood like a shadow that learned our footsteps.

You were silenced anytime you had a question and now you have grown into the timid adult who struggles to speak up, struggles to ask for clarification, struggles to challenge harmful things and guess what? The people responsible often think the cure will magically come because checks notes “you are now an adult.”

And if you are not careful, you too will continue the cycle and begin to see children or people younger than you as less human and even less deserving of respect.

But that is just by the way anyway.

So how did this power dynamic affect my relationship with God?

I have mentioned once here how I am really curious about how things are or how they work and so as I grew up as a young child, I did not understand a lot of things about God or Christianity.

I remember every time it rained heavily with thunderstorms and lightning, I would beg God for forgiveness and tell Him to please help me make heaven because thunderstorms and lightning were more synonymous in my head with the second coming of Christ.

If you grew up Nigerian, especially Pentecostal Nigerian, you probably understand exactly what I mean. The moment thunder strikes and NEPA takes light simultaneously, suddenly every child in the house remembers every sin they have ever committed. The fear would always envelop me so suddenly. One minute I am eating cabin biscuit and watching cartoon, the next minute I am mentally preparing for judgment day.

And my question then was: “If this is a good God and I go to church and read my memory verses, why am I always so scared of His coming?”

I remember reading the Pentateuch too and seeing a good God wipe out nations, give orders to kill and whatnot and it was just unthinkable to me.
Why would a good God do that?

I also had questions like: Why would people be in church all their lives and yet their lives never reflect the God they serve?

Growing up, church people were usually some of the most judgmental and wicked people honestly and I just could not reconcile all these differing views of this loving God.

God for me then was a very fearful being that I DARED not ask any questions.

You know, I genuinely thought God would slap my face to death if I ever opened my mouth to ask Him any questions.

After all, my culture already taught me that asking older people questions was dangerous territory. Seeking clarity could be interpreted as disrespect. So how dare I question the Ancient of Days Himself? How dare I question arugbo ọjọ?

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You see if you have questions about God or about the faith you profess and you refuse to seek clarity for them (in the right places please, this is important), you give the devil tools to work with.

In my case, because I had no answers, the devil gave me fear.

I was one of the most fearful children ever and I remember this often worried my parents. What had I seen that made me so fearful? They could not understand it.

But I felt like there was a God monitoring my every step, waiting like a harsh teacher with cane in hand, ready to strike anytime I made a mistake or ask questions that sounded too bold.

Holding back my questions instead of asking them made me feel like it made God happier and how wrong I was. I was dying quietly inside with my curiosity and my inability to satisfy it.

Oh what a skewed view of God I had and how heartbreaking that must have been for the man who loved me so much that He laid His own life down for me.

And the funny thing is the Bible is filled with people asking God questions. Scripture never hides the humanity of people trying to understand God. I often say God is so secure in His divinity and He is not intimidated by your questions.

If you have a romantic relationship or even any relationship whose bond runs deep, you will agree that part of getting to know each other was asking questions. Questions are often the doorway to intimacy.

The devil can use unanswered questions to draw you away from the faith, make you settle for a mediocre Christianity or make you secretly ashamed of your faith.

It is like being in a relationship with someone and hearing suspicions about their cheating past but because asking questions always feels more like war than conversation, you hold your questions in. But whether you like it or not, uncertainty slowly chips at your relationship like water wearing down stone.

You become paranoid, anxious and even restless.

“Did someone find out already?”
“Can I really trust this person?”
“Can I introduce him to my parents?”
“I am not sure oh…”

And before you know it, the sweet taste of your love slowly begins to grow sour in your mouth.

I am sorry for the culture that made you feel like asking questions to gain clarity jeopardizes the authority of the person in question or that you are disrespectful if you ever question anything.

Psychologists often talk about how children raised in environments where curiosity is punished may grow into adults who struggle with confidence, self-expression and even trust in relationships because questioning became associated with danger instead of connection. And honestly, I think many of us carried that same fear into our relationship with God.

I apologize on behalf of everyone that made you feel like that.

But you see God is not angry or anxious or insecure about your questions. Your questions prove one thing for sure: you are interested in Him. And you know God loves that because He is eager for you to know Him as deeply as He knows you.

So please, do not give room to the devil and allow him take your desire to know God more and twist it into fear or confusion or even worse, make you believe that the God you serve or the faith you profess is false.

Search the Scriptures, ask your pastors, look for reliable sources. Read, study and learn. (And I will genuinely be happy to recommend resources on whatever matter you need.)

You will slowly begin to see that God was never hiding from your questions. He was patiently waiting to walk you through them.

The presence of faith does not automatically cancel out questions or even doubt sometimes but blessed be God who has given us a Saviour who can help our unbelief.

It is okay to cry like that man in Scripture:
“Lord, I believe; help my unbelief.”

Thank you so much for riding with me for the past 3 weeks. I would genuinely love to help with any questions of the faith you have. You can ask them via this link (if you are reading on mail) or shoot me a DM on Substack or Instagram.

Thanks for reading To My Brethren’s Substack! This newsletter is For my Brethren and To my Brethren. As God helps and leads me, I’ll continue to share various parts of my walk with God and insights from the Bible, with you. If you’ve been searching for a Christian buddy (read newsletter), then you are in the right place. Do you know anyone who needs this? Kindly encourage them to subscribe.

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Am I a Pharisee at Heart?

If you have read the gospels enough, you would agree that the Pharisees and teachers of the law might just be one of the most prejudiced and prideful sects ever.

“The Pharisees did not practice what they preached. They mistakenly and tragically reduced the Mosaic covenant to a list of rules that, if followed, made one right with God. They did not care about the people they were leading. They craved attention and adulation from people more than they sought the grace and mercy of God.” (SOURCE)

The Pharisees were so determined and obsessed with obeying the law to earn their own righteousness that they slipped into legalism and became one of the most hypocritical groups ever.

It is still quite incredulous to me how you would study someone your entire life, spend years reading the Jewish scriptures, memorizing prophecies and anticipating the Messiah, only for the very fulfillment of those scriptures to stand right in front of you and you completely miss him because your pride was louder than your hunger for God.

I can only imagine their regret when they realized they had spent their whole lives waiting for someone they were too proud to recognize when he finally came.

But you see, I do not think a lot of Christians, especially those of us that grew up here in Nigeria and in Africa generally, are so different from them and that is what I want to prove.

One of the things that annoyed me growing up was how so many decisions were filtered through the lens of “what will church people say?” Sometimes, it did not even matter whether the thing itself was wrong or beautiful. If it did not fit into the mould of what respectable Christianity looked like, then it became a no-go area.

I also remember how some people in church would reprimand you for things their own children were doing comfortably behind closed doors. Even as a child, it confused me deeply. Why was everyone performing all the time?

It felt like living inside a never-ending stage play where everybody had memorized their lines but forgotten the heart behind them.

Now the thing about performance is that after a while, the mask starts growing roots into your skin. You either become so good at pretending that you no longer know where the performance ends and where you begin, or you become a complete rebel determined to reject everything because hypocrisy exhausted you.

And it is here, dear friends, that I began to realize how dangerously similar we can be to the Pharisees.

Why Do I Think So?

Let me tell you a Bible story.

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In Matthew 9, towards the end of the chapter, Jesus sees the crowds following him and the Bible says he was moved with compassion because they were weary and scattered like sheep without a shepherd.

How exactly do you have crowds of neglected and spiritually starving people in a society already filled with priests, teachers of the law, Pharisees, Sadducees and religious leaders at every corner?

It is because somewhere along the line, the Pharisees had become more obsessed with preserving their image than shepherding God’s people. They had created a religion so cold, performative and prideful that even God himself was locked outside of it.

It is like the story of the Good Samaritan and maybe because we are so used to hearing it, we no longer realize how scandalous that parable actually was.

A Jewish man was robbed, beaten and left half dead by the roadside. Then a priest walks by, sees him and intentionally crosses to the other side. A temple assistant, someone deeply involved in religious service, also walks past him. Men who spent their lives serving in God’s house had become so consumed with appearance, status and religious performance that compassion no longer moved them.

The man would have died there if not for the Samaritan. What makes this even more radical is that Jews and Samaritans were enemies. There was deep hostility between both groups. Yet the person religious society would have least expected became the one who reflected God’s heart the most.

You see, many of us already have categories in our hearts for people we think are too far gone for God.

We avoid the drunk man on the street.
We skip the girl everyone calls promiscuous.
We decide certain people are “bad influences” before even seeing them as souls.
We preach easier to people who already look clean enough to fit into church culture.

But Jesus did not do that.

Jesus sat with tax collectors.
Jesus allowed a prostitute anoint his feet.
Jesus intentionally spoke to the Samaritan woman at the well.
Jesus healed demon-possessed people and brought them close.

What is even more humbling is that the people religious society kept at arm’s length were often the very people most responsive to Jesus. Meanwhile the Pharisees, who looked righteous externally, were whitewashed tombs inwardly.

That is the terrifying thing about hypocrisy. It can make you so obsessed with appearing holy that you no longer resemble the God you claim to serve.

When Religion Loses Compassion

The Jewish scriptures repeatedly emphasized justice, mercy, compassion and care for the vulnerable, yet the very people entrusted with teaching those scriptures had emptied themselves of empathy. This is why Jesus says the labourers are few even though religion was everywhere.

Jesus is not merely looking for people who can quote scripture loudly. He is looking for people whose hearts break for what breaks his. He is looking for labourers who will not behave like Jonah and secretly believe God’s mercy should not extend to certain people.

Those people we secretly feel uncomfortable imagining beside us in church. People we believe deserve judgment more than grace. People we avoid during evangelism because somewhere deep down, we have already concluded that they are unlikely to change.

So Jesus is still asking for labourers:
People willing to get their hands dirty for the kingdom.
People willing to love difficult people.
People willing to preach Christ outside carefully curated church spaces.
People willing to carry compassion into broken places instead of superiority.

Am I a Pharisee at Heart?

And this is the question this article forced me to ask myself.

Am I doing Christianity mainly for appearance?
Am I kinder to “put together” sinners than visibly broken ones?
Have I become so obsessed with looking righteous that I no longer love people?

It is possible to reject the Pharisees intellectually while carrying their spirit emotionally. It is possible to love correct doctrine and still lack compassion. It is possible to serve in church and still look down on sinners. It is possible to know scripture and yet completely miss the heart of God.

May we not become so consumed with performance that we forget the heart of the gospel.
May we not become so obsessed with appearing righteous that we stop loving people well.
May God help our hearts not to be riddled with pride and hypocrisy while pretending to represent him.

May He help us to become faithful labourers emptied of self-glory and filled instead with compassion, mercy and truth.

Amen.

Thanks for reading To My Brethren’s Substack! This newsletter is For my Brethren and To my Brethren. As God helps and leads me, I’ll continue to share various parts of my walk with God and insights from the Bible, with you. If you’ve been searching for a Christian buddy (read newsletter), then you are in the right place. Do you know anyone who needs this? Kindly encourage them to subscribe.

How Our Childhood Trauma Shows Up in Devotion.

If you grew up Nigerian, or even just as a Black person, there is a high tendency that you had to work for (or at least earn) certain things.

The day out at your favourite restaurant because of your good grades.
Eating the main meal before the protein.
Games night only on holidays.

Almost everything felt like a transaction of some sort.

These things are not bad. In fact, they are necessary. They train a child to be disciplined. But if we are not careful, these things don’t just end in childhood.
They follow us into adulthood and make us feel like we have to earn everything we receive.

So now as an adult, you are thinking about the “debt” you owe a friend because of a gift they gave you. You tell yourself: It wasn’t your birthday, so why did they give it to you? What do they want?

You say “thank you” when people compliment you, but deep down, you know you only mentally assented to it. You don’t really believe them. After all, why would a stranger be kind to you for no reason? In Nigeria? No, they must want something.

And in many cases, they actually do.

So this just keeps widening the gap between our already present wounds and whatever healing we are trying to experience.

Now you bring that same mindset—the need to earn, to deserve, to prove—into your relationship with God.

On the other hand, as human beings, we love control. We like to be in command because nobody really wants to be at the mercy of another person. And in that same brokenness, we find ourselves trying to prove something; becoming people pleasers who want to be seen as good, as better, as worthy.

So we start doing things that subtly exalt ourselves.

And this is how we slip into legalism.

Why do you feel closer to God on your “good days”?

Why is it that on the days you tick all your devotional boxes—you read your Bible, you pray, you worship—you feel more confident asking God for things?

There is this subtle feeling of, “oh, I am the next best thing after jollof rice.”

But then compare it to the days you didn’t pray. The weeks you were inconsistent. Suddenly, it becomes difficult to even talk to God. The guilt sits heavy on your chest. It eats at you. It tells you to stay away.

“How do I even carry my Bible when I just lied to my mum?”
“How do I pray when I haven’t forgiven that person God told me to forgive?”
“How do I go for evangelism when I fell into that addiction again yesterday?”
“How do I even look at God?”

“I don’t feel worthy.”
“I think He hates me.”

Maybe you haven’t been there before, but I for sure have.

Who Benefits When We Condemn Ourselves?

It was when I started asking myself why I always felt like God hated me whenever I didn’t pray or read my Bible “enough” that I realised something: A lot of it can be traced back to culture and upbringing.

A preacher once gave this illustration: if I send you to buy ice cream and you forget, the most reasonable thing to do when you remember is to go and buy the ice cream, not sit in guilt over not buying it.

What exactly is the guilt solving? Nothing.

It is the same thing with our devotion. When I don’t pray as I should or I neglect God for days, why don’t I just go back? Why am I sitting in guilt instead?

That was when I realised that the devil is actually the one benefitting from this.

Because if Christ, through Paul, says: “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” (Romans 8:1)

Then why am I the one condemning myself?

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But what exactly can you do to deserve the very blood of God as atonement for your sins? Even a morally upright life is not enough. Isaiah already told us: “All our righteous acts are like filthy rags.” (Isaiah 64:6)

So how exactly do you plan to impress the God of the entire universe?

I was reading a book the other day, and the author said something that really stayed with me: we only know God because He chose to reveal Himself to us. Through nature. And even more specifically, through His Word.

So we are not even as “smart” as we think we are.

Sometimes, we overestimate how good our works are. And if we are being honest, many times we are not even doing them for God; we are doing them for ourselves.

To exult ourselves.

Let’s assume for a second that your good works can impress God.

How many hours of prayer can you pray to impress an eternal God who is not bound by time?

What kind of English will you speak in prayer to impress the One who created language?

If it is giving, how much exactly will you give a God who created everything in six days?

Isaiah 40:13–15 says:

“Who is able to advise the Spirit of the LORD? Who knows enough to give him advice or teach him? Has the LORD ever needed anyone’s advice? Does he need instruction about what is good? Did someone teach him what is right or show him the path of justice? No, for all the nations of the world are but a drop in the bucket. They are nothing more than dust on the scales. He picks up the whole earth as though it were a grain of sand.”

So again, how exactly do you impress a God like this?

Grace was never something you earn.

The truth is God is not asking you to impress Him. He already knows you will fall short. That is why grace exists.

No wonder it is exhausting. You are trying and trying at something that has a 100% failure rate. Of course you will burn out.

We must not turn our place of devotion into a stage where we try to impress God with the best parts of ourselves while hiding the ugly parts.

He has seen it all already and He still died for you.

The Difference Between Peter and Judas.

Peter denied Jesus. Not once. Not twice. Three times. And not even under serious pressure (once to a young girl). This is someone who walked with Jesus, saw miracles, sat under His teaching and said he loved Him. Yet, in Jesus’ final hours, he denied Him.

I can only imagine the kind of guilt Peter must have felt.

Did he feel like we do sometimes? Unsure of forgiveness? Ashamed to come close?

But when he heard that Jesus had risen, Peter did not stay back. He ran. Unlike Judas, who let guilt destroy him, Peter let it push him back to Jesus.

Failure in devotion should push us toward God, not away from Him. God is the only one who does not condemn us and He is the only one who has the solution to our guilt.

Don’t let guilt win this battle, my Friend.

Don’t give the devil space in your heart.

When you allow guilt to keep you away from God, the only person gaining from it is the devil.

God is grieved—not because you failed—but because you don’t trust Him enough with your imperfect side. You, on the other hand, are frustrated because your heart was made for Him, yet in those moments, you feel like you cannot come close.

So I am now satisfied to see God glorified, not my works. I am learning to let go of that constant need to prove myself in the place of devotion.
God has given me Himself and anything I can give him back falls short. So I will be satisfied in him while he is glorified in me.

I won’t contend for God’s glory by trying to impress him in devotion and striving to be worthy of his gift of grace. I’ll rather rest in the beauty of the finished work of Christ.

Thanks for reading To My Brethren’s Substack! This newsletter is For my Brethren and To my Brethren. As God helps and leads me, I’ll continue to share various parts of my walk with God and insights from the Bible, with you. If you’ve been searching for a Christian buddy (read newsletter), then you are in the right place. Do you know anyone who needs this? Kindly encourage them to subscribe.

Things I do when I don’t feel like praying or when I am trying to build back my prayer life that really help me.

(I added some playlists at the end)

First of all, building a prayer life is one of the hardest things to do, especially in this attention-hungry world. Nothing in your environment is really designed to help you stay consistent in prayer, and that is why you have to be very intentional about building one.

But one thing that has given me comfort repeatedly is remembering that this struggle is not peculiar to me. The best of us struggle with this. And there is something deeply comforting about knowing that it is not just you.

The devil has a way of making you feel like your struggle is unique to you alone, so he can keep you in shame and silence. So you don’t speak up. So you don’t seek help. So you don’t even realise that there are other believers who understand exactly what you are going through.

If you are reading this and you have tried over and over again to be consistent in prayer and it feels like you keep failing, you are not alone. I hope these few things I do help you, even if it’s just a little.

1. Reducing what feeds my flesh

I try my best (and yes, it’s really “try” because it’s not always perfect) to reduce my intake of things that don’t help my spirit—secular songs, certain movies, random content.

Not because everything secular is automatically wrong, but because I already know how weak my spirit can be in certain seasons.

I already know how weak my spirit can feel in those moments, so I try not to make things worse even if I can’t immediately make things better.

Like Paul said, some things may be lawful, but they are not expedient (1 Corinthians 10:23). And in seasons where you are already struggling, you need things that build you, not things that leave you empty.

2. Talking to God

Sometimes I don’t “start with prayer.” I just talk.

I write to God. I sit on my bed and have very simple conversations with Him. Some of my Substack essays were born from moments like this.

I think we forget that a huge part of prayer is just conversation. It’s not always structured. It’s not always deep. Sometimes I talk to Him like a Father. Sometimes like a friend. Sometimes I’m just rambling.

We can get so focused on “doing it right”—praying, worshipping, reading our Bible—that we lose the wonder of actually knowing God.

Performing Christianity can quietly turn us into robots without hearts. And when that happens, prayer starts to feel like a chore instead of a conversation (aimed at building a relationship).

3. Doing what stirs my heart again

This is closely tied to the last point. I try to intentionally do things that make my heart soft towards God again.

For me, that often looks like listening to certain worship songs—especially Dunsin Oyekan. There are times I’ll just put one song on repeat and stay there. Other times, I’ll worship along on YouTube.

For you, it might look different. It might be taking a walk and talking to God. It might be listening to a sermon. It might even be going out for evangelism.

But whatever it is that reminds your heart of God, prioritize it in seasons like this.

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4. Leaning on other believers

I try my best to stay plugged into prayer groups, especially in seasons where I feel dry. I take group prayers and devotionals more seriously during those times, whether they are long or short.

There is something about being around other believers that stirs you up again.

Sometimes, you don’t even have the strength to carry yourself, but the faith of others carries you. Sometimes you come weak, but you leave strengthened simply because you showed up.

5. Surrendering my prayer life to God

I know you have heard it all before: set a time, wake up early, be disciplined. And yes, discipline matters. But there is something deeper than that.

There are seasons where I have had to literally tell God, “I don’t even know how to do this anymore. Help me.”

Because the truth is, if you feel like you already know how to pray and you can do it by yourself, why would you need His help?

But in surrender, you acknowledge that you cannot do this without Him. And that is where grace comes in.

6. Praying (even when it feels small)

This might sound very simple, even cliché, but to get out of prayerlessness, you have to pray.

Just like you have to close your eyes to fall asleep, you have to start praying to build a prayer life.

Don’t overwhelm yourself. Fifteen minutes every day for the next 30 days is better than three hours once in a while. Start small. Stay consistent. Be present.

Remember that prayer is not trying to impress God.

Lastly, if you feel guilty about your prayer life, that conviction you feel is not condemnation, it is the Holy Spirit working in you.

The fact that you are even trying, even reading this right now, is proof that He is at work in you—“to will and to do for His good pleasure” (Philippians 2:13).

I always say this: it is the person who is running that stumbles. Someone standing still does not fall.

So if you have been trying and failing and trying again, you have to realize that it’s not failure. You are moving, you are growing, even if it doesn’t feel like it.

God will not always work the way you expect Him to. But don’t give up, my friend. The flesh will always want what is easy—prayerlessness, comfort, distraction. But the flesh is not what will go to heaven with you.

Surrender to the Holy Spirit. He will give you the grace and strength you need.

Some of my favorite playlists in this season:

Gazing at Jesus

Reassurance of God’s Love

When I feel far from God

Songs of Consecration

Thanks for reading To My Brethren’s Substack! This newsletter is For my Brethren and To my Brethren. As God helps and leads me, I’ll continue to share various parts of my walk with God and insights from the Bible, with you. If you’ve been searching for a Christian buddy (read newsletter), then you are in the right place. Do you know anyone who needs this? Kindly encourage them to subscribe.

A song I will attribute to this is Baami by Pelumi Deborah and TY Bello (absolutely check it out).

I was joking to myself in the past few days about how it felt like since my last birthday, heaven registered my name in some adult register of some sort. The decisions I have had to make, the things about myself I have had to change and let’s not even talk about the realizations.

There’s a popular quote about ignorance being bliss, and I agree. Sometimes, not knowing about the future, not having to think about how your present actions can either sabotage or help your future self that was freeing.

Until it was not.

Why am I telling you this?

The past few weeks have been weary for some reasons, a lot of reasons if I’m being honest. There’s grief, there’s school, life after school, family, relationships, church, work, and even this. It is a lot.

And when people tell me I do a lot, I don’t often agree because I really know it’s not more than I can handle. But these past few weeks have truly been… that lot.

This melancholic state is not something or somewhere I love being.

The Illusion of Control

There is a delusion bubble I’ve been in for a while. It shows up in how I talk about my goals, even how I feel about them, because that’s how I plan.

I always believe—even despite the current uncertainty—that things will eventually work out for good. But lately, I’ve been having a lot of realizations.

(Just to clarify before we go on, I still believe that everything God has said about me wil still come to pass)

Terrorism is eating up citizens of this country on a daily basis and at an unbelievable rate, the average Nigerian is no longer moved by the “100 dead in Yobe” news. In fact, it is almost like this is all we have known now.

On another hand, my so-called “prime”—the best time to go after my dreams, my twenties—is being slowly crushed by a government that seems determined to have nothing to do with the betterment of its people.

You see these people with their kids, and you know it’s not like they don’t understand value. They just don’t see the life of the average person as valuable enough. And so anything or anyone becomes a pawn in this game of having their cake and eating it.

For me, it is the hopelessness of it all.

I used to be so vocal about the ills of this country because I was deliberate about making sure I never lost my empathy here. But there is only so much one person can take.

It was easier to say in my teenage years that I didn’t care about this country (because I genuinely wanted to leave). But growing older, I realized I actually want this country to work. But what has Nigeria rewarded people like me with except repeated holes in our dreams?

Maybe because of the empathy I have refused to let go of, the happenings in this country—especially in the past few months—have really gotten to me.

Our helplessness. Our hopelessness. A government with no regard for the common man. There is absolutely no sector in this country that is working well and I have lost loved ones because of that.

I have so much to say about this country but that is not what I came here to say.

My Obsession With Control

When I was about to write this week’s article, I was going through my idea bank, looking for what to write about. Nothing felt right. So I asked God instead, “What should I write?”

And He said I should write how I am feeling. It is in writing this article that I realized something…

My melancholy in the past few weeks has been largely because I have been obsessed with control.

I want to know what will happen; I read my books, get good grades, then I should get a good job. I should marry by this age. I should have achieved this by now. I want to do things a certain way so that the outcome is predictable so that I am not thrown off when things don’t go my way.

Do I Really Trust God?

I think now of Abraham when God told him to leave his homeland.

I say I love God but do I really trust Him with my life? I think I do. Maybe I’ve just allowed life and my current circumstances to get in the way (I mean, the current circumstances is Nigeria).

Sometimes I interact with my peers in international communities, and seeing what Nigeria robs me of really hurts on most days. But I think the bulk of it comes from the timelines I have given myself, timelines that have nothing to do with God’s plan for my life.

I had a decade-long plan when I entered university, and I think a part of my mind still recognizes that plan and sees it as the template for how things should go.

But if I truly claim to have given God my life, I cannot sustain it with my own plans and ideas. Maybe that is why I feel burnt out.

I keep trying to run God’s engine with my own kind of fuel.

And maybe you’re like me.

You had a clear-cut plan of how this year should go or what this season of your life should look like and nothing is going according to that plan.

There are things you told yourself you should have accomplished by now. So you keep running—desperately so—because deep down, you feel like you have something to prove.

You want to say, “See, I’m not behind. I’m doing something.”

But have you ever looked to God and considered that maybe the rerouting is part of the journey? Joseph saw stars bowing down to him—not himself as a slave in Egypt. Yet, trying to force that journey would have jeopardized God’s plan for his life.

Whose Approval Are You Living For?

No matter how good the plans we have for ourselves are, if we do not do what the Master sent us to do, it is still a failed life.

We shouldn’t be so obsessed with family expectations or societal timelines that we forget we are living for an audience of One.

You will not stand before your father who thinks you are wasting your time or your mother who wants you to marry quickly or neighbor who thinks you are behind.

You will stand before God; the One who has power over both body and soul.

It is only His opinion that should hold weight. The opinions of men are far too inconsistent.

Held By God

Overall, it is important to remember—regardless of what the circumstances around your life look like—that God holds your life, that life you are so worried about, in His capable hands.

God has counted the hairs on your head. He knows you by name. He knows your future and every curveball you will face. If He could give you Jesus—His most prized possession—then He has a good track record, doesn’t He?

I think your future will be just fine… if you let go of control and trust Him instead.

He is the Creator of the universe and He holds all things together. But He is also Daddy.

And maybe I forgot that in the past few weeks. The God of the universe is my Father.

I can sleep in the boat with Jesus despite the storms around me.

Thank you for reading my ramblings.

I really hope this blessed you. God answered a lot of my questions through writing this, and I’m so glad I didn’t let the hopelessness stop me from showing up.

I hope this answers some of your questions and eases some of your fears.

Till next time, friend.

Now imagine on a morning like this.
Even in her grief, as she goes to anoint His body, expecting death; she finds the stone rolled away. Not just that, but Christ, risen. Alive. In the flesh.

The kind of joy that must have erupted in her heart…I can only imagine.

This is what we celebrate at Easter.
The resurrection of our Saviour, Jesus Christ. He rose bodily so that anyone who accepts Him would never truly die. There is no one else who said they would die, rise and did. Every other “god” lies in the grave, 6 feet under. But my God, Jesus, is risen and seated at the right hand of the Father.

So on a day like this, I want to remind you: there is absolutely nothing in your past that Christ is afraid of.
He called a tax collector. He called a zealot.
He allowed a “sinful” woman wash His feet.
He met the Samaritan woman at the well; not to condemn her, but to offer her living water.

It is this same Christ who is calling you, my friend.
He is knocking and He has been for a while. His love is unlike anything you have ever known. He loved you enough to lay His life down for you, and upon accepting His sacrifice, His Holy Spirit comes to dwell in you, evidence of a promise: that one day, maybe sooner than we think, He will come for you.

This is the hope we have in Christ our Lord.
This world is not our home. The Bridegroom is coming again and He will be united with His bride.

We are in the #neverdiegang.

Happy Easter 💕

What exactly did Jesus endure for you?
What really happened on that cross?
And why would the God of the universe choose that kind of death?

“Throughout Jesus’ life, the apostles and his disciples kept saying to him, ‘Jesus, when are you going to take power and save the world?’
Jesus keeps saying, ‘You don’t understand. I am going to lose all my power and die—to save the world.’” — Timothy Keller

The Question That Won’t Leave Me Alone

I was reading a book early last month, The Seven Sayings of Jesus Christ on the Cross, and it talked about some of the horrors of Roman crucifixion; the things Jesus faced on His way to the cross and on the cross.

And I remember at a point that day, in the darkness of my room, I kept asking Jesus, “why?” If you have read my articles for a while now, you’ll notice that this “why” has been a recurring question. Why exactly would the God of the universe endure such horror and humiliation for my sake?

It’s almost 2 a.m. on Good Friday, and yet the same question plagues me, even as I relive, in tears, the horror of what my freedom from sin and death cost.

It is quite easy to breeze through the Bible and read that they nailed His hands to the cross or that He was flogged with a whip.
But have you truly considered the cost of your freedom? Have you allowed your imagination to sit with it? Have you thought about what could have been running through Jesus’ mind in those three long hours?

Matthew 27:46 — “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

Separated and alienated from God. In more pain than anyone could endure. Have you considered it?

Because I’ll tell you the truth, it is not easy.

So today, please, allow me to bring you closer to Christ’s suffering. To watch helplessly, as this Man, who loves us with something beyond this world, endures a horror so great that an entire word was named after such event.

Please follow me closely, friend, as I walk you through the horrors of Roman crucifixion; the one by which Christ was crucified.

The Origin of Crucifixion

A lot of us encounter crucifixion for the first time in the Gospels, seeing it used by the Romans. But crucifixion existed long before then.

One of the earliest records of crucifixion was under King Darius—long before the existence of Jesus. Historical records show that it was practiced by the Babylonians and possibly the Greeks, before being perfected by the Romans.

Now, you would think the goal of crucifixion was simply to kill a person in the most painful way possible. But that wasn’t the main goal.

Death was not the objective. Humiliation was. Maximum shame, exposure and degradation. That is why acts like stripping Jesus of His clothes and publicly mocking Him were not incidental; they were intentional.

Who Crucifixion Was Meant For

Crucifixion was reserved for the worst of the worst: Slaves, violent criminals and enemies of the Roman state. It was a tool of fear and a warning. That is why crosses were raised high; for all to see. It was a way of saying “If you oppose us, this will be you.”

Unlike other forms of execution, which were often done quickly and away from public view, crucifixion was the opposite. It was slow, public and deliberate. From the scourging to the final breath, everything was designed to prolong suffering.

Jesus could have been killed in other ways like stoning or beheading. But Crucifixion stripped Him of dignity and to the Jews, it carried even deeper meaning:

Deuteronomy 21:23 “Cursed is anyone who is hung on a tree.”

The Jewish Leaders didn’t just want Him dead, they wanted Him discredited.

How Horrific Was It Really?

Cicero, Roman senator and orator called crucifixion:

“the cruelest and most hideous punishment” and “the worst and ultimate punishment for slaves… The very word ‘cross’ should be far removed from not only the bodily experience of Roman citizens but even from their thoughts, eyes and ears.”

Tacitus, an ancient historian described it as:

“the most obscene type of death.”

Now before the criminal is nailed to the cross, they are scourged and flogged. If these were normal floggings, that would be a preferable option—horrible, no less—but preferable nonetheless.

But the whips used here were different. They had bits of bone interspersed within the leather thongs.

After this, the victim carries a plaque describing his identity and his crime.
He then carries the crossbeam, called the patibulum (crossbeam), to the place where his crucifixion has been prepared.

Now here are some gory details from several archaeologists and historians, summarized by Murray Harris:

“There he was placed on the ground and his outstretched arms were either bound to the crosspiece with ropes or nailed to it. In the latter case, the victim could not help but scream in agony. The feet were placed one over another and nailed to the front of the upright or sometimes to each side of the upright.

Then two soldiers would have hoisted up each end of the crossbeam into a groove in the permanent upright post (stipes), while the other two soldiers supported the victim’s body as it was jolted into place. Midway up the vertical beam was a small wooden peg or seat that partially supported the victim’s weight and prevented any collapse of the body that would have hastened death.”

Now this is only a summary of the prolonged horror Jesus was subjected to. Let’s examine them one after the other.

The Scourging

Before Jesus was led to be crucified, Pilate ordered that He be scourged. This was usually done to weaken the victim.

Whips embedded with bones, metal, or even glass were used, not merely to strike, but to bite into the skin and draw blood. It is why when we see depictions of the scourging of Jesus, He is often shown as a bloody mess.

In fact, this beating was described as “half-death”, because many victims of crucifixion did not even make it past this stage.

The flogging alone was so traumatic that the tearing of skin and soft tissue left the body in unbearable pain. Breathing became shallow and difficult. (Source)

And all of this was done after stripping Him of all His clothing.

The Crown of Thorns

After the flogging, a crown of thorns was placed on His head.

But you must remember, He still had to make the journey to Golgotha. So the Romans made sure it stayed firmly in place. They did this by repeatedly struck it into His head. This would mean more blood and more pain.

What horror! That the Son of Man, God Himself, would endure such degradation. He had the power to call down a battalion of angels and end it all in an instant.

But He didn’t.

Matthew 26:53 — “Do you think I cannot call on my Father…?”

He obediently accepted death, even death on a cross.

There are medical suggestions by Fredick Zuguibe that what He experienced here resembles something like trigeminal neuralgia, which is often described as “suicide pain,” because of how intense it is. Sharp, stabbing pain across the face. Yet, He endured it.

The Journey to Golgotha

So now Jesus begins His walk to the cross.

The crossbeam alone could weigh between 70–120 pounds. Now add that to everything He had already endured: the blood loss, the trauma, the exhaustion. This would mean Jesus fell down repeatedly on his way which would have caused scraping and bruising again and again.

Each fall reopening wounds.

The Nailing

Now at Golgotha, He is nailed. Through His wrists and His feet. Can you consider the sheer wickedness behind this? I can’t even begin to fully imagine it.

Each strike of the hammer and tearing of flesh. And all of this on a body that had already been broken.

The nails were placed in such a way as to avoid major arteries, so He wouldn’t bleed out quickly. Nothing vital immediately destroyed.

The goal was not just death. It was prolonged suffering.

The Breathing, The Pain, The Exposure

Now His arms and legs have been nailed to the cross, and every single time He tries to breathe, His already beaten back scrapes against the wood. What pain must have shot through His body each time.

Yet He remained there. Naked, cold and in unbearable pain. For the whole world to see His love for you and me.

The Temptation to Come Down

Now in all of this, there was a very real temptation: to come down and to prove Himself. He could have called on His Father to send angels. He could have brought down fire. Anything.

He was taunted by passersby: “Save yourself.” Even the thieves beside Him joined in. Yet He did not yield to the temptation and He did not listen to the voice of the enemy.

He endured the cross. For you and for me. He even refused the drink that would have dulled His senses. He was fully present and fully aware. A committed King and Saviour, even to the very end.

The Greater Weight: Sin and Separation

Now you must realise something.

Jesus was not just suffering physically. He bore the full weight and consequences of our sin. He was seen as sin by God, though He lived a perfect and holy life.

But in bearing our sins, He was separated from the Father. A relationship that had existed from eternity—perfect and unbroken—now feels absent.

Imagine having something your whole life. You reach for it in your darkest moment and you find nothing. No one can fully understand that pain. That loneliness and abandonment.

He did it so that you and I would never have to experience it.

“Christ was forsaken by God so that believers may never be forsaken by Him either during life or after death” Timothy Keller.

But even in unimaginable pain and exhaustion, His mind was still on Scripture. Still on fulfilling the Father’s will. He remained submitted to God’s will, even in death.

I think of myself and how many times I have failed Him, in comfort and for comfort.

One extra hour of sleep instead of devotion. Hiding my faith so I don’t seem “too much.” Ignoring the prompting of the Holy Spirit.

And yet here is my example: Even in death, He remained faithful.

Gethsemane.

It is important to remember that Jesus prayed for hours before this: that somehow, the cross might pass from Him. This shows His humanity so clearly. The weight of what was ahead pressed on Him.

He said His soul was exceedingly sorrowful, even unto death. The emotional and psychological burden alone was crushing. Yet, He still chose obedience. “Not my will, but Yours.”

No wonder Paul says this same mind should be in us.

Not Another Friday

Jesus bore all this pain, for you and for me. He did it when He could have chosen not to. It was the Father’s will to give up His Son and this plan existed even before time began.

Imagine Jesus knowing—every single day—what lay ahead and still walking toward it. No resistance or complaint. Just love. A price that satisfied God’s wrath but at the cost of Christ’s suffering.

These are the truths we must hold on to today. This is not just another Friday or another public holiday.

Christ actually suffered.

I find myself asking again: Why?

“Why would You do this for me? Who exactly is Deborah, that You are mindful of her What have I done to deserve this?”

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Yet, He chose me.

God’s love is unlike anything we have ever known.

A King who steps into His own creation. Who becomes like His people. Who suffers like them. Who does not abuse His power, but lays it down.

“This is the love you have been looking for all of your life. This is the only love that can’t let you down. This is bombproof love. Not friend-love, not personal acclaim, not married love, and not even romantic love—it is this love that you are after, underneath all your pursuit of those others.Look at him dying in the dark for you. Let it melt you into his likeness.” Timothy Keller

The One who created everything you see loved you enough to lay down His life for you. Let that thought fill your heart and draw you back to Him.

Everything else may fail, people may leave. You may be abandoned. But there is a love that will go to any length—even death—to have you.

Prayer

May we always remember the love of God that caused Him to lay down His life for us.

And may that same love be the badge by which the world knows us.

Amen.

PC: Pinterest

"We will never stand in awe of being loved by God until we reckon with the seriousness of our sin and the justice of his wrath against us." — John Piper

What Exactly Is Sin and Why Is It Bigger Than You Think?

In Genesis 3, we see the serpent come to test the woman in the garden. But let us even examine that for a moment. The serpent says, "God knows that your eyes will be opened as soon as you eat it, and you will be like God, knowing both good and evil." Why would Eve want to be like God in the first place?

You see, this temptation to be like gods — to be our own gods — is not peculiar to the first woman in the garden alone. It is the same in every man that has ever lived. We have an irrepressible urge to be in control of our lives, to set the rules, to determine what is right or wrong. And it is no wonder why living a godly life seems harder than anything else. It is because of this sinful nature present in us all.

How Did We Become Sinners and Where Did It All Begin?

When God created man, man was without sin or evil in his heart. But now we see the serpent come to the woman God created for the man and ask her to eat the fruit so she will be like God. This is a bold and rebellious statement to make, I assure you.

Imagine Elon Musk sees you and decides to put you in charge of one of his businesses. That is good enough, right? Then a former employee comes along and says, "Why don't you take these confidential documents from Elon and use them to find out how he does what he does?" This is a poor analogy, I know, but it paints a picture (no matter how skewed). What this former employee was doing was inviting you into something far more sinister than it appeared: a betrayal of trust, a quiet rebellion dressed up as opportunity. The serpent was doing the same thing. He was telling them, point blank, to rebel against God, friends.

But how did the serpent even know about rebellion against God?

This brings us to the origin of sin.

We see this beautiful angel of God in the Bible an anointed cherub, most likely one of the highest angels, if not the highest. Then pride sets into this beautiful creature, and not only does he seek to usurp God from his throne, this angel wanted to be like God. Now, does that sound familiar? It is with this very same temptation that Satan came to test the woman in the garden. This need; this restless urge, to not only be our own god but to be like God…it is a demonic urge, and it is the very origin of sin. That one thing which caused our complete alienation from God.

How Did Adam's Sin Become Mine Especially When I Wasn't Even There?

Now, how exactly do we become sinners when we didn't eat of the tree?

There are quite different answers to this, but let's look at it together. We know that the first sinner recorded in the Bible was Lucifer (Satan) who in turn tempted Eve. Adam also ate the fruit, and that made man a sinner. Now you might ask, "How? They just ate a piece of fruit." But as I explained earlier, this was never merely about eating fruit. They blatantly disobeyed God and ate with the underlying intention to be like God, knowing good and evil.

This is also a good place to say that temptation is not a sin in and of itself. It is what we do, that is, how we respond to temptation that determines whether it becomes sin or not.

When Jesus was tempted, he rebuked Satan. Adam gave it a listening ear.

And so through Adam, sin spread to all mankind, and man became a victim of not only physical death but spiritual death as well. We were totally alienated and separated from God. Pain, sickness, evil and everything wrong, entered into the good world God had created. What sadness this must have caused God's heart. To look at the world one day and call it good and beautiful, and then to see the horrors Satan has wrought in it.

Now, we inherit Adam's sin because in that garden, that day, Adam was not only eating for himself. He was standing and eating on behalf of all humans. Just like a Nigerian diplomat can take decisions on behalf of all Nigerians without the average Nigerian participating in the process, or even being aware of it— the same thing happened in that garden. By one man, sin entered the world.

The Purpose of the Law; A Mirror, Not a Cure.

This is how we become sinners: the nature of sin was transferred to all of Adam's descendants. Just as we inherit our parents' eye colour, height, and other traits, through spiritual genetics we inherit this sinful nature from Adam as well.

We are sinners twice over: we sin because we are sinners (Adam's choice) and we are sinners because we sin (our own choice). Gotquestions.org

And this is the major purpose of the law in the Old Testament. God gave the children of Israel those laws to show them the inherent sinful nature dwelling in all men and how incapable we are of ever meeting the moral standard of God on our own.

The law cannot save because, again, sin is an inward problem. Something has to happen to our hearts. This sinful nature has to be ripped away from us, and the law could not do that. But what it did do was give a name and an explanation to the evil and sinful nature in man. It is no wonder that only Jesus could fulfil the full requirements of the law. This, again, circles back to the holiness and righteousness of God; he alone is perfect and just.

Romans 3:20: For no one can ever be made right with God by doing what the law commands. The law simply shows us how sinful we are.

What Sin Does and Why God Hates It So Much

“Therefore, sin is not small, because it is not against a small sovereign. The seriousness of an insult rises with the dignity of the one insulted. The creator of the universe is infinitely worthy of respect and admiration and loyalty. Therefore, failure to love him is not trivial — it is treason. It defames God and destroys human happiness." — John Piper, The Passion of Jesus Christ

You see, because of what Jesus did, many of us will never have to know in graphic and horrific detail exactly why God hates sin the way he does. But I will try to paint a picture for you.

One of the divine attributes of God that separates him from every one of his creatures is his holiness. And it should fill us with gratitude that this holy God sought us out — mere broken and depraved mortals — because if he did not, there is absolutely no way in the world that we would have been able to find him.

God is up there, and we are not even close to him in any way remotely possible. The holiness of God does not merely mean his moral perfection. It also means his inability to be anything short of perfection. He is holy, he is sinless, and he is perfect.

Now, sin goes against the very nature of God. As seen from the first sinner we encounter in the Bible; Satan, everything sin connotes is rebellion. Satan's pride, his desire to be more than God, is what made him a sinner.

The whole concept of sin is to make us the opposite of what God made us for. God made us for his pleasure: to glorify him and bring praises to his name. But sin says; “I don't want to do that. I want to be praised instead. I want to run the game. I want to make the rules. I want to be like God”.

And ultimately, most importantly, God hates sin because it separates humans, whom he loves so deeply, from him. It is no wonder that when Adam and Eve heard God's voice after sinning, they hid themselves. Holiness and unrighteousness cannot dwell together; they cannot fellowship. And sin is unrighteousness.

This is why no good deeds can save a man. It goes way beyond trying to be a good person or a morally upright person. God sees beyond the outward life to the evil and sinful nature dwelling in man's heart. It is for that reason that only the gospel can save us from our unrighteousness. Our good deeds cannot do that for us.

It is no wonder then that God told Nicodemus to go and be born again, even though as a Pharisee, Nicodemus would have been one of the most morally upright people of his time. Ezekiel also prophesied that in salvation, God will take out our stony heart and give us a new one.

At Easter, Jesus Conquers Sin

Now, praise be to God, who does not abandon us in our sinfulness. He hates sin and reviles it, yet he destroys the sin inhabiting us while loving us all the same.

A friend of sinners, they called Jesus. He does not sit in his glory and look on as evil and depravity eat away at all of mankind. He steps down into this horror, into the darkness inhabiting the world, to feel our pain, bear our weakness, fulfil every requirement of the law, and ultimately lay his perfect life down as payment for the wages of our sin.

Is there any love greater than this? Because the apostle Paul will tell us that even scarcely for a good man will anyone die, but while we were yet sinners, Christ came and offered himself as the sacrifice for sin, just so that one day, when you finally reckon with this sinful nature that resides in you, the solution already awaits: this blood of God, who is still speaking better things today. What a manner of love. What a God.

I hope that as we near Easter, we do not grow used to his sacrifice, because it cost the life of God's precious son. I hope we do not grow numb to the fact that God actually walked the streets of this world, that he stepped down from glory into darkness just so that one day you would be reconciled with him, your debt fully paid. He loved you enough to lay his life down for you.

Never forget that.

“Let us have confidence in the gospel. The gospel is the power of God unto salvation. Have confidence in the Gospel. God puts power—saving power—in our mouths. So as the gospel goes out, the Spirit grants life. Have confidence in that. Trust it. Share it” (Thabiti Anyabwile)

The Cost of Obedience

I am really grateful and excited to wrap up this series today, and I just hope you have been able to learn one or two things about evangelism.

GO Ye Therefore I

Go Ye Therefore II

Go Ye Therefore III

Just like anything in your walk with God in this world, Evangelism is no easy feat. It is a war against our flesh, which constantly craves comfort and ease alone. But evangelism will require us to leave our comfort zone time and time again. It will require us to turn the other cheek and offer our cloak. It will require us to completely die to the flesh.

It will require us to bear insults for Christ’s sake because sometimes, when we go out, we will meet people who have been hurt by those who claimed to be followers of Christ (and who knows, maybe they were). We will meet people who, in their walk with God, have been dealt great suffering and pain. And in those moments, it will not be just about what we say, but how we say it.

It requires a lot of tact, humility, and most importantly, reliance on the Holy Spirit.

“Something I am realizing anew is that this life isn’t ours to begin with. We don’t own it as we do a shoe. It is always His—His gift to us. Our purpose ought to bein giving it back to Him moment by moment” (Roseanna M. White, A Portrait of Loyalty)

GOOD DEEDS WILL SAVE NO MAN.

You must always remember that it is the Holy Spirit that convicts—not your good words, not your nice shoes, not your great conversational skills, not even your ability to connect with people. No, it is God’s Spirit that convicts every sinful heart.

And so, it is important that we do not fill ourselves with arrogance and pride when we are able to bring people into the fold by preaching His gospel. It is important to remember that all glory and honour belong to God, and to Him alone.

He alone became man for the sake of a suffering world. The Father gave His Son, and the Son willingly accepted the cross and the cup of suffering. It is God alone who has entrusted us with the ministry of reconciliation, and it is still Him alone who guards us and leads us every time we preach His gospel.

No power is our own, and we hold on to no glory. All praise and power belong to God, who reigns sovereign and supreme over the affairs of men.

“Salvation is designed in a way as to cut the legs out from under all human boasting. It’s about smashing human pride and getting glory for God. That’s the bigger picture, the wider angle” —John Piper

The Gospel is for All Men

I would also say, on a final note, that it is important to remember that no deeds can save a man, no matter how good they seem or how good they may be.

In every man exists the propensity to sin and the reality of spiritual death. No good deeds can save a man from God’s wrath against sin, and no good deeds can make a man righteous. How exactly can a mortal man, by his own efforts, meet the righteous standard of the God of all the universe?

Every day, we see how we fall short of even our own standards, how much more God’s.

Our good deeds, as Isaiah said, will forever be like filthy rags.

You do not look at the Samaritan woman and Nicodemus and conclude that the Samaritan woman needs the gospel more because of her past. Nicodemus, after all, was a teacher of the law, what could he possibly be getting wrong?

But how wrong we would be to think that way.

It is all men who have sinned, as Paul reminds us: the good and the bad, the ones who fit into our societal standards and those who do not, the ones we think are worthy of the gospel and the ones we think are not (just like Jonah with Nineveh).

If Jesus did not hold back in telling a Pharisee that he must be born again to see the kingdom of God, then we must be careful not to hold back when we meet the “good” people in our society.

May God continue to help and guide us in our walk with Him.
May He open our eyes to see all men as He sees them.
May He cast out the prejudice in our hearts and give us a heart like His; one filled with compassion for all men.

Amen.

Thank you for riding with me for the past four weeks. I do not take it for granted.

I’m starting a new series in anticipation of Easter, and I really cannot wait to share it with you. This is for all men—for the unbeliever with questions about the Christian faith, and for the Christian seeking to grow in the knowledge of their faith.

May God continue to help our hearts love Him more, even as our minds come to know Him better. 🤍

Go Ye Therefore II

“Without Christ, we are all legalists and lechers at heart—wanting to do our own thing or wanting to do God’s thing in our own way to prove our own ability.”
— John Piper, Do Not Waste Your Life

The Story We Think We Know

You know when you read the book of Jonah, or when you hear the story, you are tempted to think, “oh, this is just a story about God sending a prophet to a sinful nation, him disobeying, then a fish swallowing him”. And because the fish swallowing Jonah is very dramatic, a lot of us fix our gaze there, like spectators at a spectacle, and we ignore a lot of important contextual and historical details quietly sitting in the background.

But have you ever paused and really asked: why did Jonah disobey God’s instruction to preach to the people of Nineveh? Jonah is a prophet. This is what he is called to do; to preach repentance and communicate God’s heart. So why exactly did Jonah run away?

Well, before we get to that, let’s talk about Nineveh; that capital city of Assyria that God sent Jonah to, because that is where this conversation must begin.

Nineveh: The City You Would Also Hate

The prophet Nahum gives us a glimpse into Nineveh in his third chapter as he prophesies the Lord’s judgment against the city. And why, you may ask?

Nahum says:

“Nothing can heal you; your wound is fatal. All who hear the news about you clap their hands at your fall, for who has not felt your endless cruelty?”
Nahum 3:19 (NIV)

You see, this Assyrian city was not just sinful in the casual sense. It was characterized by grave cruelty and violent idolatry. Nineveh was known as a city of blood (Nahum 3:1), a place where violence was the way of life. It wasn’t just incidental; it was culture.

The Ninevites tortured captives by skinning, impaling, dismembering and turning human beings into warnings. Terror and brutality was their language. So these people were feared and hated by surrounding nations, including Israel, and rightly so.

Assyrians did not just conquer nations; they humiliated and dehumanized them. There was something almost animalistic in the way they treated people. Their pride was loud, and their defiance against God was not hidden.

So you would agree: these people were enemies. Enemies of God. Enemies of Israel and as a true Israelite, Jonah saw them exactly that way.

God’s Instruction That Didn’t Make Sense

Now in Jonah 1, God tells the prophet to go to Nineveh and call them to repentance. Just imagine what that looked like for Jonah.

I can already feel the tension that must have risen in Jonah’s chest; you know the confusion, the resistance, the anger that begins to form when God’s instruction does not align with your sense of justice. This was the same Assyrian empire that had already captured Northern Israel. The only reason they did not capture Jerusalem, the capital of Judah, was because God intervened.

So you can almost hear Jonah’s thoughts:

Did God forget?
Did He forget their wickedness?
Did He forget how they brutalized His own people?
Did He not see the blood? The cruelty? The arrogance?

Did He not destroy nations before? So why not now?
Why send me to them?
Why give them a chance?

The Real Reason Jonah Ran

Now we come to the real question: why did Jonah refuse to go?

Was it fear? Was it rebellion? Was it bitterness? Jonah himself answers us.

In Jonah 4, after God shows mercy to Nineveh, the prophet finally says what had been sitting in his heart all along:

“Isn’t this what I said, Lord, when I was still at home? That is what I tried to forestall by fleeing to Tarshish. I knew that you are a gracious and compassionate God, slow to anger and abounding in love, a God who relents from sending calamity.”
Jonah 4:2 (NIV)

So now we know. Jonah did not run because he doubted God.
He ran because he knew God too well. He knew God was merciful. He knew God was compassionate. He knew that if these people repented, God would forgive them and Jonah did not want that.

Lamentations tells us:

“Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning.”
Lamentations 3:22–23 (NIV)

Jonah knew this and that was the problem, because in Jonah’s mind, mercy made no sense here. Later, in his anger, he says he is angry enough to die because God is kind and merciful. Yet God responds:

“And should I not have concern for the great city of Nineveh, in which there are more than a hundred and twenty thousand people who cannot tell their right hand from their left…?”
Jonah 4:11 (NIV)

Moral Superiority and the Christian Man

Now, we must be careful not to raise our noses at Jonah, shaking our heads in condemnation, wondering how one man could be so disobedient. Because in our own covert and more respectable ways, we do the same: We ignore the call to evangelize.

The cousin at family gatherings. The parent who keeps resisting truth.
The colleague at work. The friend you gist with about Champions League.
The roommate who moves from one party to another. They are not even your enemies.
Yet somehow, evangelism has become optional when it comes to them.

If we are actually honest, it sometimes goes deeper. Maybe a part of you, just like Jonah, wants them to pay.

You warned your roommate. She didn’t listen. Something bad happens, and somewhere in your heart, you quietly think, “well… i told you”. Of course You don’t say it out loud.
You thank God you are not like her.
Of course you pray for her, but not from a place of compassion, rather from a subtle posture of superiority.

But you forget that God sees. He is after all Olúmọ̀rànọkàn—the One who searches the heart.

Are We the Hindrance?

What is it about our faith that we have not understood? That makes us forget that the same mercy we received is the mercy others need? That without grace, we too would still be dead in sin?

“The Lord… is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance.”
2 Peter 3:9 (NIV)

So if that is the Father’s desire and we are true children of our father, why do we sometimes become the hindrance?

Are we truly angry at unrighteousness or are we angry at the fact that there are people doing what God tells us not to do and they are getting away with it? They are not being punished by the wrath of God, in fact it seems they are being favoured above his own people. Are you sure this is not really the root of the anger and malice over that colleague or friend?

My Own Epiphany

If there is anything I’ve learnt in the past few years of walking with God, it is this: I am the most undeserving of men of God’s mercies.

For almost a year, this was my only question; it sat heavy on my heart and perplexed me deeply. So this is God? And what exactly did He see in me to grant me such a weighty gift of righteousness… a gift I receive simply by believing in Him?

It disturbed me.

For a whole year, all I found myself doing was striving to be deserving of His gift, to somehow measure up to His graciousness. But like searching for a needle in a haystack or chasing after a rainbow, it was a fool’s errand. Exhausting. Endless. Impossible.

And so, I gave up. I stopped striving to be deserving, and I simply embraced His gift of righteousness, even as undeserving as I am.

“To say, ‘I can do nothing to save myself; but by His grace God has done everything for me in Christ’ is to take the first step in the life of faith.”
— Watchman Nee, Sit, Walk, Stand

So What Do We Do With This Grace?

We cannot receive grace and withhold it. We cannot be recipients of mercy and become gatekeepers of it.

On the last day, I do not want to stand before God and realize that my lack of compassion, my quiet pride, my moral superiority is what kept someone from hearing the gospel.

I do not want Him to ask me: “What right do you have to be angry?” (Jonah 4:4)

This is God’s desire: That all men be saved. Think of the most evil person in the world, think of the person who has caused you greatest pain…God wants them saved.

“It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick… I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.”
Luke 5:31–32 (NIV)

A Different Kind of Christian

Put yourself in their shoes: the alcoholic, the loquacious neighbour, the party-going roommate. Think of the gay colleague, or the egbon adugbo who is always smoking.

They already see Christianity as a religion for morally perfect people. And honestly, can you blame them? Many who have gone ahead of us have not shown them otherwise; that we are, in truth, a people deeply imperfect, yet being made perfect daily by the Spirit of God at work within us. Maybe those Christians did not know better.

But you do.

So instead of raising your nose in quiet arrogance, instead of sitting in the subtle comfort of “I am better,” you can choose differently. You can point them to a perfect Saviour; the only One who offers the satisfaction they have been searching for in all the wrong places.

You can open the Bible with them and show them story after story of broken, flawed, and even wicked people that God still chose, still used, still loved. You can show them that God is not intimidated by their past, not threatened by their mess, not repelled by their sin.

His blood is not just sufficient; it is effectual and effective, even for the vilest sinner who truly repents.

Where many Christians have already concluded that “these ones are too far gone,” you can be different.

You can go after the very people Christ died for.

“It doesn't matter who you are or what you’ve done. My salvation is not based on pedigree , it is not based on moral attainments, raw talents, level of effort or track record. I have come not to call those who are strong, but to call those who are weak. And I am not mainly your teacher but your Saviour. I’m here to save you not by your work, but by my work” Timothy Keller talking about Jesus in John 20.

---

Prayer

God, enable me to show the same grace I have received from you to other people. fill me with compassion for the lost souls. Amen.

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This is the third and penultimate Issue in the Evangelism Series and I am really excited and grateful for all God is doing. , I will wrap up the series by giving us Practical ways to Evangelize. So if you have been wanting to Evangelize but don’t know how to, don’t forget to subscribe. Thank you for reading as always. Don’t forget to like, share and leave a comment. Happy Weekend!

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Go Ye Therefore III

For I fully expect and hope that I will never be ashamed, but that I will continue to be bold for Christ, as I have been in the past. And I trust that my life will bring honour to Christ, whether I live or die. (Philippians 1:20)

“Love has to do with showing a dying soul the life-giving beauty of the glory of God, especially His grace… and any good-hearted goal, without the desire to give people eternal joy in God, is condemnation with a kind face. And if your aim is to glorify Christ, who is God incarnate, you will also lay down your life to make people eternally happy in God.” — John Piper

Last week I started an evangelism series which I want to use to enlighten us as believers on why we must take evangelism seriously, how to do it, and certain things to avoid while evangelizing. If fear of “what if they ask me questions?” is holding you back, make sure you subscribe, because I will be answering some of those questions in the last issue of this series, and even more in the next series. You can also use this link to ask some questions you would love answers to.

Part 1 of the series: Go Ye Therefore (in case you missed it).

Again, evangelism forms a crucial part of the Christian man’s devotion. We are trained by God to be deployed, not just to keep the knowledge we have to ourselves. We must evangelize because it is a command from our Master; one that is crucial, important and reveals the desire of the Father. We must also do so because it is God’s way of partnering with us, and more people are actually eager to hear this message than we think. These are some of the reasons I shared in my previous article.

Now that we have established the ‘why’ behind evangelism, we must now explain how we can embark on this spiritual journey, because evangelism is firstly a spiritual act before anything else.

So how do you evangelize?

1. Let the Go of Fear.

When I went out for evangelism for the first time, I think I had been a believer for almost two years, if not more. I went out with some other people from church just to have an idea and see what people actually do when they go out on evangelism. I was just there to spectate. The next thing I heard was, “Deborah, speak to these boys.”

Speak to them as how, please?

I didn’t even fully grasp what we were doing here in the first place. How exactly was I supposed to do that? That was what I was thinking to myself of course. I never said it out loud, but in my deep state of confusion and shock, I did open my mouth to preach. And you needed to see the way my words were tumbling and jumping over each other.

Mind you, I was preaching to preteen boys, so I really had no reason to be scared. But there was a part of my mind that had already imagined the people I would preach to as giants or extremely special people. And you know all the tales you hear about evangelism and the different things that happen to people when they go out? Those were the only things I could remember at that moment.

One of the most important things to remember in evangelism is that these are human beings just like you. They have emotions you can relate to. They have struggles you can relate to. And you carry an answer they desperately need. So it is really important to note that there is absolutely nothing to be afraid of.

Now, this doesn’t mean you won’t encounter hostility. Some people will actually call you the worst names and do very hateful things. But that should not surprise us. They are unbelievers, and we cannot be shocked when unbelievers behave like unbelievers.

What we must not do, however, is allow fear to consume us and hold us back from doing what Christ has called us to do. Instead of fear, fill your heart with comfort from God’s Word that reassures you that Jesus will be with you even to the end of the world.

So you have nothing, absolutely nothing, to worry about. God is with you.

2. By Evangelizing

We now have this light shining in our hearts, but we ourselves are like fragile clay jars containing this great treasure. This makes it clear that our great power is from God, not from ourselves. (2 Corinthians 4:7)

Well yes, I know you probably weren’t expecting that answer.

But just like to fall asleep you must sleep, and for you to pray you must open your mouth and utter words of prayer. In the same way, to evangelize you must first go out and evangelize.

After that first situation with the two preteen boys, we went to another hostel and I was told to preach again. And surprisingly enough, my words came out more coherently.

Have you ever seen a rusty tap that hasn’t been used in a long time? When you finally turn it on, dirty water may come out for the first few minutes. But after a while, clean water begins to flow. If the tap continues to remain unused, it will keep rusting.

This is the same with many of us.

You will never really realize how much you have learned or how much you know until you step out and actually speak to someone.

And the “I want to make sure I know more before I evangelize” excuse is honestly just a cute Christianese excuse. Because you will never know everything.

Why do we still have pastors studying the Bible from book to book? Why do ministers still attend theology and seminary schools? Why do we still keep uncovering new insights about the Christian faith even in 2026 AD?

It is simple: we cannot exhaust it all and you cannot either. There are answers you only discover on the battlefield.

This is not an excuse for intellectual laziness or spiritual apathy. We must still study and grow. But what I am saying is this: if you wait until you feel ready or perfectly knowledgeable before evangelizing, you will never be ready.

Because often, that hesitation is more about pride than humility. It is our attempt to put ourselves in the forefront of the glory that belongs only to God. If we truly believe that all glory belongs to Him, then why are we so determined to appear perfect?

Is it our knowledge we want men to see, or Christ’s glory at work through us? We must stop obsessing over ourselves and let go of the need to be cool. We have no reputation to protect and no steeze to maintain. Is Christ glorified in our endeavors? That is all that matters. (I wrote more about that in Dare to be Different.)

3. Prayer

A. Prayer for Compassion for the Lost and a Fervent Desire to see them Saved.

Earlier I said that whether you feel like it or not, you must evangelize. I said that so we do not relegate this responsibility to our emotions.

But it is also important that we pray for the right heart.

In Matthew 9:36, when Jesus saw the crowds, what He felt for them was compassion, because they were confused and helpless like sheep without a shepherd.

It is important that we pray for God to fill us with compassion for the lost, so that we begin to see unbelievers the way God sees them, because this changes the entire dynamic of evangelism.

Now you are not preaching because it was the sermon on Sunday, or because it was your church assignment, or because you want to brag about “wins” in December.

No.

You are preaching because the Lord has helped you see how precious this person truly is. This is not another statistic. This is not another soul to add to your belt. This is a human being; one for whom Christ shed His precious blood.

When you look at your unbelieving friend, are you filled with compassion for how lost they are? When you look at the sibling you have been preaching to for five years, are you filled with frustration, or with a deeper desire to keep praying and keep speaking because Christ never gave up on you?

When you see people losing themselves in alcohol, drugs, or every other escape the world offers, do you look at them with pride, or does your heart break at how far a man will go trying to lead himself? We must remember that we are no different from them, except for the grace of Christ that found us.

When you hear of a brother or sister caught in sin, do you feel satisfied that your suspicions were right? Or do you feel a burning desire to enter the place of prayer for their restoration?

We must pray that God fills us with a desire to see the earth filled with His glory as the waters cover the sea. When you genuinely care about the person you are speaking to, it shows.

You see unbelievers can tell when we are just inviting them to church or trying to stick another box. Trust me they know. Whenever I go out to preach, people are often surprised when I ask them how they are truly doing, and if there is anything they would like me to pray about.

Remember, these people are human beings too and they have feelings as much as you do. It is important to pray for the desire to see them as Christ sees them. We must feel compassion for their spiritual state, not hatred or haughtiness.

B. Prayer Before and After Evangelizing

Evangelism is a deeply spiritual act and must be treated as one. You do not go to war without preparation.

If evangelism is truly about depopulating the kingdom of darkness and reconciling men back to God, then we must understand that it will not always be a walk in the park. But glory to God who has assured us victory.

Paul tells us in Ephesians 6 to put on the whole armor of God. Why?

Because this is not merely about making people stop drinking or increasing church attendance. This is about the eternal destiny of souls.

Paul writes that we are not fighting against flesh and blood, but against rulers, authorities, and spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms (Ephesians 6:12).

How do you fight what you cannot see? Through prayer.

And thanks be to God, because before Jesus gave the Great Commission, He reminded us that all authority in heaven and on earth has been given to Him. So we know that there is no mountain before us that cannot be made plain. Just as the prophet Habakkuk declared, we pray and agree with God that one day the earth will indeed be filled with the glory of God as the waters cover the sea.

For fear that this would be longer than my audience’s attention span (which I fear it already is), I will stop here and share more practical steps during the week.

Those will be more direct and personal, as they relate to the struggles of evangelizing in the modern 21st century, so keep your eyes out for that.

But I will end with this:

We have a greater harvest than we often realize.

A few years ago, my pastor randomly asked some people in church to stand up and answer some questions. The responses were surprisingly thoughtful and insightful. Yet if you asked those same people beforehand, they would probably have said, “I don’t think I know that much.”

Christ has given believers—all believers—this ministry of reconciliation.

If the gospel is a message that must be preached and believed for people to be saved, how will that happen if no one goes? If everyone is waiting until they feel qualified?

You cannot die for anyone’s sins. But you can tell them about the One who already did.

So as you go about your days this month, remember this:

“…And God has given us the task of reconciling people to him. For God was in Christ, reconciling the world to himself, no longer counting people sins against them. And he gave us this wonderful message of reconciliation. So we are Christ ambassadors; God is making his appeal through us. We speak for Christ when we plead, “come back to God””. (2 Corinthians 5:18b-20)

Evangelism is God’s strategy to see the lost saved.

Prayer

God, grant me the strength and grace to stand and be bold for you. Destroy the pride of my own ways and fill me with all of you so I will pay my reputation no mind and preach your message everywhere I find myself. I receive a fervent desire to see the lost saved and compassion for every unbeliever. I take my place as an ambassador for Christ depopulating the kingdom of darkness and reconciling men back to God. Amen.

This is the second Issue in the Evangelism Series and I am really excited and grateful for all God is doing. During the week, I will be talking about Practical ways to Evangelize. So if you have been wanting to Evangelize but don’t know how to, don’t forget to subscribe. Thank you for reading as always. Don’t forget to like, share and leave a comment. Happy Weekend!

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I’m taking To My Brethren to Instagram this month, and I would really appreciate your follow and support. Kindly help share this anywhere you deem fit.

Thanks for reading To My Brethren’s Substack! This newsletter is For my Brethren and To my Brethren. As God helps and leads me, I’ll continue to share various parts of my walk with God and insights from the Bible, with you. If you’ve been searching for a Christian buddy (read newsletter), then you are in the right place. Do you know anyone who needs this? Kindly encourage them to subscribe.

Go Ye Therefore III

Go Ye Therefore IV

Matthew 28:19–20

Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all things that I have commanded you; and lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age. THE GREAT COMMISSION.

“Not to show people the all-satisfying God is not to love them…If you don’t point people to God for ever-lasting joy, you don’t love. You waste your life” John Piper.

You know one of the most important statements a person can ever make is the statement they make before departing from you. You pay rapt attention, almost stilling your breath so you do not miss a single word. You know that what they are about to say not only means the world to them, but it will most likely shape you in some way. So you listen carefully. Can you guess one of the things Jesus said before He ascended? “Go ye therefore...”

The Great Commission was the last commission Jesus gave His disciples. In the Greek, the direct instruction given by Jesus is actually to “make disciples.” That command is carried out by going into the world, teaching, and baptizing. These actions support the main instruction. But that is not even where I am going.

Right before Jesus leaves the earth, He looks at His disciples and, in spite of the million things He could have said, He tells them to go into the world and make disciples.

If there is anything to note about the Bible and especially the words of Jesus, it is that every single word, every parable, every statement carries importance. Nothing is accidental. Nothing is a filler. So if Jesus leaves us with this command right before His ascension, it is because of how crucial and important it is.

The Greek word used for “Go” is poreuthentes. It carries the sense of a continuous action; something ongoing, something lived out. Jesus is essentially saying that when you accept Christ, when you begin to revel in the beauty of this God who came as man for your sake; who dwelt in a human body like yours. Yet, he was without sin so that He could become the sacrifice for sin, you do not keep that news to yourself.

This is different from the selfishness of the human heart we are all accustomed to. This is different from the religions and civilizations of the world that portray their “god” as distant and unreachable; so far away that man can never truly come near.

But this beautiful Man of Galilee did not only touch the darkness of this earth for you; He lived in it. He walked through it so that one day you would have a High Priest who is able to sympathize with your weaknesses because He Himself walked through similar trials.

Never has this happened before and that is exactly why it must be spoken about as often as possible. It is “poreuthentes” for a reason. You do not go once and stop going. From the moment of your new birth until the day you leave this earth, you continue telling the story of His salvation.

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So why should you bother with evangelizing?

1. It is a command by Jesus

Evangelism is not the work of a select few in the church. Maybe you think it is the job of the pastors, church leaders, or the evangelism committee. No, it is the responsibility of every single believer to go into the world and spread the fragrance of His knowledge.

In Acts 1:8, Jesus says once again that we will be His witnesses to the ends of the earth. If we are truly disciples of Christ, then we must hold His words dear and obey His commands. If Jesus commands us to make disciples, it goes without saying that we must obey.

It is also important to note that in the verse preceding the Great Commission (Matthew 28:18), Jesus says: “All authority has been given to Me in heaven and on earth.” And then He says “Go ye therefore.”

In other words, we go In His authority. There is no satanic power, no false ideology, no god or demon that is bigger than the authority of Jesus.

2. It is one of the ways God partners with man

“From fellowship to partnership, God and I, we can change the world.”

Fellowship to Partnership by Dunsin Oyekan

There is a song by Dunsin Oyekan titled Fellowship to Partnership, and every time I hear that phrase it does something to my heart.

Because think about it: the very fact that God; the Maker of heaven and earth and of everything that exists, would look at me and say: “Deborah, I am all-sufficient, supreme, and sovereign over all things… but I want to do this with you. Can you tell the world about Me? Can you tell them about the beauty of what you have received?”

You bet I will do that. It is God we are talking about, mate.

I know how I would behave if my favorite celebrity asked me to partner with them on something. I can imagine the exhilaration, the happiness, the excitement. Everyone would understand. So why do we suddenly tone it down when it comes to God, the ultimate celebrity?

Why do we not regard evangelism with the same seriousness with which we pursue partnerships with mere humans; partnerships that can only afford us money we cannot spend forever, money we certainly cannot carry into the grave, partnerships that cannot truly satisfy?

True fulfillment comes from doing that for which we were made: To know Christ and make Him known.

“Desire that your life count for something great! Long for your life to have eternal significance. Want this! Don’t coast through life without a passion” John Piper

I cannot begin to explain the fulfillment and deep joy I feel whenever I go on evangelism. The knowing that heaven erupts in joy because another soul has been rescued from darkness. The thought that on the last day, someone might stand before God and say, “I am here because Deborah took her partnership with God seriously and never backed away from it.”

That thought fills me with joy indescribable. It feels like electricity humming through my blood. It feels like the quiet satisfaction of standing exactly where God intended you to stand; in his perfect will. And the positive impact it has on my devotional life? Ah!

3. More people are eager to hear about Christ than we think

One thing many of us do not realize is that the natural state of the human heart is to thirst for God.

When I go outside and speak with people, I often realize that many of them are actually eager; eager for someone to take the time to explain the ache in their hearts. That strange emptiness. That feeling that something is missing. Of course, many of them will not accept Christ immediately. But you have planted a seed, and seeds matter.

In his letter to the Romans, Paul writes: “How then shall they call on Him in whom they have not believed? And how shall they believe in Him of whom they have not heard? And how shall they hear without a preacher?” (Romans 10:14)

If no one tells them about Christ, it is no surprise that people search everywhere else to fill the void in their hearts. My pastor often says something that has stayed with me: Our assignment as Christians is not only to bring the correct message to unbelievers. It is to be the first to reach them with the message.

4. It is a battle between light and darkness

Contrary to what some people think, there is really no sitting on the fence in spiritual matters. You are either in Christ, or you are vulnerable to the influence of darkness.

When we refuse to evangelize, the enemy simply fills the vacuum in people’s hearts with substitutes: alcohol, lust, power, success, pleasure and anything to silence the ache that only God can satisfy.

Paul reminds us in Ephesians 6:12 that we are not wrestling against flesh and blood but against principalities, powers, rulers of darkness, and spiritual forces in high places.

This is not just about maintaining your reputation or avoiding the label of being “that desperate Christian.” No, friend. This is warfare. And that is why we cannot treat God’s command lightly.

If you put 100% into your career, education, and daily life, then in this matter you must give even more. You will not evangelize thoughtlessly, you will pray intentionally for the lost, not only when you go out to preach but continually.

This is war. But glory be to God, because in Christ we have already secured victory over the kingdom of darkness. Always.

5. The gospel is too beautiful to keep to ourselves

One of my favorite snacks is fruit parfait. To reduce the cost of buying it all the time, I began buying yogurt and fruits so I could make it myself at home.

I tried two different yogurt brands before finally discovering Aries yogurt.

And let me tell you about the perfection of that yogurt! I became obsessed. The thickness, the sweetness, the consistency, even the price… everything just worked for me.

Guess what I did? I told all my friends. It felt too good to keep to myself.

The same thing happened when I discovered the Bible Strong app for my Bible study. After reading Scripture, I like checking the Greek or Hebrew root words, the concordance, and commentaries because sometimes meanings are lost in translation. This app had everything in one place. So of course I told all my friends about it.

When something changes your life; when it transforms you and makes you better, you naturally want to share it. You want to shout it from the rooftops. “Here it is! The very thing that changed my life!”

So why do we not see the gospel the same way? Perhaps it is because many of us have not fully grasped the radical, life-transforming power of the gospel. Paul says in Romans 1:16: “For I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ, for it is the power of God to salvation for everyone who believes.”

Did this gospel truly save you? Did it transform you; turning you from an anxious, broken, restless person into someone who now carries deep joy? Did it give you new life and reconcile you to God?

Ah, is this the same gospel that allows you to approach God’s throne boldly, the same throne before which prophets once trembled? Is this the gospel that made the Spirit of God dwell in you?

Then why would we ever be ashamed to proclaim it? Why would we keep the solution to the brokenness of the human heart to ourselves?

“Do you love the Lord’s appearing? Then you will bend every effort to take the Gospel into all the world. It troubles me in the light of our Lord’s explicit definition of our task in the Great Commission, that we take it so lightly…”

George Ladd

Remember this: God is counting on you. His desire is that all men be saved, and you play a part in that plan. You preach and the Holy Spirit convicts.

So as you go about your days this month, remember this:

“…And God has given us the task of reconciling people to him. For God was in Christ, reconciling the world to himself, no longer counting people sins against them. And he gave us this wonderful message of reconciliation. So we are Christ ambassadors; God is making his appeal through us. We speak for Christ when we plead, “come back to God1””. (2 Corinthians 5:18b-20)

Prayer

God, help me realize the urgency and importance of evangelism as a believer. Enable me with grace and power to be Your ambassador in my going out and my coming in, in my eating and my sleeping, and in everything I do. Help me to be unashamed and unapologetic about the gift of salvation I have received. I receive boldness to be Your witness. Amen.

I’m taking To My Brethren to Instagram this month, and I would really appreciate your follow and support. Kindly help share this anywhere you deem fit.

Thanks for reading To My Brethren’s Substack! This newsletter is For my Brethren and To my Brethren. As God helps and leads me, I’ll continue to share various parts of my walk with God and insights from the Bible, with you. If you’ve been searching for a Christian buddy (read newsletter), then you are in the right place. Do you know anyone who needs this? Kindly encourage them to subscribe.

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Go Ye Therefore II

Go Ye Therefore III

Go Ye Therefore IV

And I’ll praise You in this storm

I will lift my hands

For You are who You are

No matter where I am

And every tear I’ve cried

You hold in Your hand

You never left my side

And though my heart is torn

I will praise You in this storm…

~ Praise You In The Storm by Casting Crown

I think it was in late 2022 or 2023 when I first got the idea of a newsletter. I lost my notes, but I remember writing how I would love to write about my faith. Of course, it ended in my notes. I never took any step and honestly, I even forgot about it. Later, I put it in my notes again and decided to name it “Life and Faith Through the Lens of a Youngun” or something like that. Let’s just ignore the title for now and focus on the message.

I kept getting nudges to start this newsletter yet I kept ignoring them, then excusing it by planning. You see, this is one of my weakness whenever God sends me on an errand; I start thinking of so many things: “Oh, is there a logo? Is the banner well done? What do I name this? Will people read what I write?” Meanwhile, the only thing God is telling me is: ignore this storm in your mind and take a step towards Me on water.

But of course, as the red-blooded human being that I am, it felt easier to notice the storms than to hear God beckoning me to walk with Him on water.

For months, I struggled. Oh, I struggled, dear friend of mine. You see, I loved the Lord, and I was genuinely happy that this holy and sovereign God would have anything to do with me at all. So the notion that He would consider me worthy enough to share His heart with His children (myself included) was almost too much to believe.

Man, I struggled. My head couldn’t grasp what God had said. Every time I took a step to walk on water, my stormy thoughts became more appealing, and I would succumb to the safety of what was familiar: fear and anxiety.

Late 2024, I decided enough was enough and it is important to state here that all credit belongs to God. Throughout and before this period, He walked me through one of the most healing and sanctifying seasons of my life. A lot of learning and relearning of my identity in Christ was done. I remember for months, my only prayers were the Pauline prayers and “God, help me see myself the way You see me.”

…I remember when I stumbled in the wind
You heard my cry, You raised me up again
But my strength is almost gone
How can I carry on
If I can’t find You?
But as the thunder rolls
I barely hear Your whisper through the rain:
“I’m with you…”

I kept asking: How do I walk on these raging waters when all I can hear are my stormy thoughts? Yet not once did Jesus leave my side. When I say God’s love is unrelenting and unwavering, trust me, it’s not an attempt to make you feel good or to sensationalize; it’s a truth I’ve held in my hands, seen with my eyes, and felt in the deepest corners of my heart. This God? He’s way too good,

The steadfast love of God? It never ceases. It is what drives me to fight for my relationship with Him, to fight for my devotional life, because everything else—every accolade, every material thing, every fleeting human approval—is transient. Temporary. It will come to an end.

Human beings can be so fickle in their dealings, choosing to stick around only when things are rosy. But I know a God who has sat with me in the mud of my shame and bore it as His own. If all I do in this life is love Him, it is a life well spent.

But I digress. After a while of walking with God, entering a season of transformation, and allowing Him into the broken parts of my heart, I began to see myself in His light. I realized: oh, He is indeed wise, all-knowing. If He has committed this assignment into my hands, it is because He knows me and He knows I have something for the world.

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So instead of focusing on the raging waters and my stormy thoughts, I started to fix my gaze on Jesus. The more I looked at Him, the more the storms faded into the background. It wasn’t easy to step on water, to begin walking on it but seeing it as a possibility, that in itself, was a miracle.

Because the more I believed it was possible, the stronger the desire to walk on water grew. And finally, I stepped out, gazing at this beautiful Saviour of mine and of course, there was no fear of any storm swallowing me, for perfect love casts out fear. Always.

I remember reaching out to my discipler, telling her what God had laid on my heart. She gave me assignments, small steps of obedience, and the more I did them, the more my feeble knees received strength, and the sharper my gaze became on my Saviour. That’s when I realized: storms and pestilence will always exist. They will always come. But as long as my eyes are on Him, I have no reason to fear. What is true peace if not faith in God, despite the storms?

I did the logo. I reached out to a friend for the banner. And on November 27, 2024, I finally created this Substack. To an average person, it may seem like just another Substack account, but I know better. This is a testimony that there is nothing, and no one, God cannot use.

This is why I love the Bible. You look through it, and all you see are broken, frail men and women through whom God works His purpose. How would Rahab, a prostitute, be in the lineage of the most Holy God? How did David not face instant destruction for sleeping with Bathsheba? He was even called a man after God’s own heart. Why did God not take away His promise from Abraham when he slept with Hagar? Or did it not break the heart of God when Paul slew his very own children whom he shed his blood for? Yet, God made him an Apostle to the gentiles. The Bible is filled with plethora of unqualified and unworthy candidates through which God fulfilled his plan.

Perhaps God wanted me to see that He doesn’t need my perfection. He doesn’t need me to match His love, that’s impossible anyway. He wanted me to see that, throughout history, He has used imperfect people to accomplish His perfect plans. And I am not new to this business of being used despite my imperfections. I am not the last. He wanted me to have hope: that despite my frailties, I could still be a mighty vessel in His hands, as long as my heart is anchored in Him.

Today, (15 months later) as I publish my 50th article; 50 articles which have blessed me more than anyone else, I realize that I do not need to be perfect. I mean I do not need to be a swimmer, a fisherman, or even an expert to walk on water. As long as my eyes are removed from the worries of life, my pride, my need for perfection, and my heart is anchored in the hope found in God’s Word, no storm, no raging tempest can sink me.

Oh, the storms will never cease. They existed with Peter, and they exist today; turbulent, chaotic, unrelenting. But even these storms, these waves, are subject to His command. This God, over all things visible and invisible, has become my Father. So why should I fear a creature of my Father? What harm can it do to me if my Creator and Father truly holds all things in His hand and by His command, they can cease to be?

This is why I won’t fear, my friend. My legs may still shake, my mind may still get stormy but I will rest in the beautiful love with which Christ has loved me. I will continue to gaze at His face, and in doing so, I am transformed into a version of me that walks right on the stormy water.

Remember; A shaky leg in stormy water will sail because of a stable Saviour.

I’m taking To My Brethren to Instagram this month, and I would really appreciate your follow and support. Kindly help share this anywhere you deem fit. And yes, happy 50th publication to us.

Thanks for reading To My Brethren’s Substack! This newsletter is For my Brethren and To my Brethren. As God helps and leads me, I’ll continue to share various parts of my walk with God and insights from the Bible, with you. If you’ve been searching for a Christian buddy (read newsletter), then you are in the right place. Do you know anyone who needs this? Kindly encourage them to subscribe.

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They’ll be times when you’re up
And times when you’re down
I’m never too far
Just look around and you’ll find me
I’m by your side, arms open wide

I am good, you are loved

Good and Loved by Travis Greene and Steffany Gretzinger

I study accounting, and finance is one area I have slowly begun to love. There are days I am learning finance and accounting and I can’t even begin to explain how this makes me insanely happy every single time. It is almost strange; how numbers, statements, and principles can stir such joy in my heart.

In 2022, I started my professional exams, and I remember being so confused, so distraught at the second stage. That level of identity crisis is something no one should ever go through. I knew this was the career I wanted. I knew without a doubt that I was supposed to be here. In fact, in the previous stage, I had just won a national award. But when things became tough, and I began to realise just how hard things are and how much harder they would get, I remember questioning myself and asking if I was even cut out for this at all.

Did I make a mistake going from science to business in high school? I was still in my first year in university, and I was trying my best to leave the country and start all over, because it genuinely felt like I wasn’t cut out for this in any way whatsoever. It felt like standing in a room I had prayed to enter, yet suddenly wondering if I belonged there at all.

Have you ever been in a settling position where your brain has acquiesced: “okay, you belong here” but you look around at everyone else and you begin to doubt whether God actually got you a seat at the table, or whether you dragged a chair there yourself and your mind just lied to you? Yes. That is exactly how I would describe that season.

It was in this same season that I found the song Good and Loved by Travis Greene. Oh, how I love this song. This song kept me grounded through that season. It became my anchor when my thoughts were loud and unkind. My favourite verse goes like this:

Through your story is My fingerprint

In the valley there is confidence

In the shadow, I will be your strength

One thing’s for sure, I am your Lord

Through the chaos, I will be your joy

When you’re finished, I have so much more

In the waiting, I’m an open door

Stand still and know, I am your Lord

You can imagine, through that confusion and chaos, there was this beautiful, soothing, calming voice reminding me that there is a good God in the midst of all this, and that He is still irrevocably in love with me. Of course, it didn’t end the confusion about whether I was going the right way with my career or not, but oh my goodness, it gave me peace. It eased my burden. It quieted the storm just enough for me to breathe.

The next part of the song says:

There’ll be times when you’re up

And times when you’re down

I’m never too far

Just look around and you’ll find Me

I’m by your side, arms open wide

I am good, you are loved.

You see, as human beings, we love control. We want to know how things will happen. We love certainty. We want to be in charge, gripping the reins of everything.

I wanted tangible evidence. I wanted reassurance that, okay, I am doing the right thing, and even though these exams felt like they wanted to take my life, I would still be okay eventually.

But God was saying, “Deborah, I am good, and you are loved. That is enough.

If I gave you eternal life, then I can give you anything.

But if I gave you eternal life, why do you think anything is all I can give?”

The song says there will be times you are up and times you are down, and God is still ever-present and that became my anchor. If I step into the deepest pits or the highest heavens, God remains ever-present. That is deeply reassuring: that the God of heaven will sit with me in the mud and yet rejoice with me on the mountains.

The goodness of God, this eternal attribute of God, has remained a constant comfort to me even four years later. If God is good, and I am still loved by Him, then I have no reason to worry. If He would sacrifice His most precious possession for me while I was still an enemy, how much more now that I am His child?

So, friend, what is that thing that weighs on you and troubles you so? What is that thing that makes you question whether He still sits on His throne as God? What is that thing that causes your heart to tremble and ache? Why do you obsess over control in an area where control was never yours to begin with?

Have you considered the next ten years…do you know how they will go? Or the next five? Or wait, have you even considered the next twenty-four hours, or the next one minute? Do you know what will happen? Then why worry so much and chase after a control that does not lie in your hands? Why not take it to God in prayer and spare yourself this needless pain?

Is He not still the same God of Israel who made manna fall from heaven so His people would not hunger? Is He not the One who caused a pillar of fire by night and a cloud by day? Is He not the God who has made heaven His throne and the earth His footstool? Is He not the One who holds all things together; supreme, sovereign, unshaken? Is He not the God who clothes the lilies with such splendour and feeds the birds of the air?

Ah friend, if He was God yesterday, and He is God today, and He will be God tomorrow, then you truly have no reason to worry. If you have Him in your boat, then go to sleep. Even the waves and the storms will eventually bow. He is the God of the entire universe, and for your good, He will cause all things to work together.

So no matter what comes or goes,

One thing you must know:

I am good, you are loved.

So if He is good and you are loved, then cheer up, my friend.

All is well.

Thanks for reading To My Brethren’s Substack! This newsletter is For my Brethren and To my Brethren. As God helps and leads me, I’ll continue to share various parts of my walk with God and insights from the Bible, with you. If you’ve been searching for a Christian buddy (read newsletter), then you are in the right place. Do you know anyone who needs this? Kindly encourage them to subscribe.

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