The Gift That Keeps a Heart Soft
Barbara said it plainly: “Forgiveness doesn’t cancel consequences. It cancels your right to revenge.”
Barbara said it plainly: “Forgiveness doesn’t cancel consequences. It cancels your right to revenge.”
Elijah said it without sugarcoating: forgiveness is wonderful—but it’s better not to sin in the first place.
“Elijah didn’t speak in slogans. “We’re going to pray for local, state, and federal authorities,” he said, “because God uses people, and people need wisdom when the trail is cold and the stakes are high.”
“Let’s pray like we mean it.”
Elijah slid a napkin into the middle of the table and wrote four lines like he was driving nails into wood: protection, justice, courage for leaders, endurance for congregations.
“A feed can disciple you faster than the Word—if you let it.”
“Christians are not forbidden to seek help. But Christians are forbidden to replace God.”
“The language of care becomes the language of authority.”
“Barbara stepped inside with her scarf tucked neatly at her neck and a folder held close to her side like it mattered—not the frantic kind of ‘mattered,’ but the weighty kind.”
If logic collapses in the culture, it won’t stay outside the church. It will seep in—until Christians start reading Scripture like headlines: fast, reactive, and without context.
Barbara stirred her coffee slowly, watching the dark surface twist into circles. “That’s what slander does,” she said. “It doesn’t always explode. It just keeps stirring until everything gets cloudy.”