The Therapeutic Gospel: Words We Use
“A feed can disciple you faster than the Word—if you let it.”
“A feed can disciple you faster than the Word—if you let it.”
Barbara slid her phone across the table at The Shepherds Cafe. “I’m tired of narratives replacing truth,” she said. Elijah and Jeremiah didn’t rant. They opened Scripture and built a simple filter for every headline.
The studio lights were hot, but the air felt sterile. Dr. Lena Hart had delivered babies, managed hemorrhages, and spoken hard truths to grieving families—yet one simple question tightened her throat like a tourniquet: “Can men get pregnant?” The silence that followed wasn’t medical. It was cultural. And it was louder than any answer.
“Matthew 18 doesn’t start with a post. It starts with a private conversation.”
“The truth takes a minute. Love takes longer. But both are worth it.”
The morning at The Shepherds Cafe had the kind of quiet that wasn’t empty—it was settled. Outside, winter pressed a pale, colorless light against the windows, and the trees across the street stood stripped down to honest lines. Inside, the warmth held steady: a soft jazz track that stayed in the background, a few regulars speaking in low voices, and the scent of coffee and toasted cinnamon that clung to coats like it was trying to be helpful.