How are my single Christians doing? I hope this post finds you deeper in Christ than the last (likely, given how long it’s been).

I’ve gotten a few emails over the months from single brothers and sisters who have benefited from the words herein. I’m grateful God has used them.

The world has certainly changed since the blog’s 2015 launch. Well, perhaps it’s not changed. But it’s taken steps towards its renewal by fire. War. Pestilence. Genocide. Depravity. TikTok. It’s all been downhill. Even the new WordPress AI tools that throw themselves at me offer new realms of possibilities, and all of them bad. I will wrote my own crazed diatribes, thank you.

My heart aches for those who currently have nobody human to ride it out with.

Yet I celebrate that Jesus has chosen to ride it out with us.

(put a pin in whatever emotional reaction you had to that statement, I’ll come back to it)

I celebrate that the Spirit comforts us.

I celebrate that the Father has redeemed and named us, and that no emotion, marital status, or human judgment can change His mind.

But for years, I didn’t really believe it.

I thought I did. I assented intellectually. But it hadn’t sunk to my heart, and the giveaway was my constant negative emotions. You see, I had sentences I was trying to overturn. Life experiences hand you sentences about your identity and the worth you carry, and my sentences were not kind. You should hear the stuff the enemy whispers in my hear, the stuff I fear others see on me (they’re actually not thinking about me at all – I know, small comfort really), the stuff that seems affirmed every morning I wake up in an empty apartment. Seems Satan has a vested interest in denying my worth, because doing so devalues Christ’s handiwork.

I knew what the Scriptures said. But the rushing weight of shame and regret seemed simply to outshout it.

Funny thing, though – I had no problem believing the Scriptures true in other areas.

I’d treat them as absolute truth when it came to explaining my faith. Absolute truth when the historicity of the cross and empty tomb needed defending. Absolute truth when doubting brothers or sisters would claim a wedge between the Old and New Testaments, when Ephesians offered guidance on righteous living, or when I needed reassurance of eternal life.

Or did I?

A few years back, I had a melanoma scare. (Hey look, I DID write about it!) This year, by the way, it’s liver spots. My skin gets up to all kinds of fun stuff now.

Where was I? The nevus was removed and I’ve had no further problems in this arena. But it got me researching melanoma, a sneaky widowmaker. Few varieties of cancer merit early detection more. And I found a fair bit of fear to be had. Primal, instinctive stuff. As if my mind paid no attention to anything my head knew. I was two men. Was I really saved? Was there life beyond this? How did I know?

Such fun, the tension of faith.

So when my emotions would start to overwhelm, when they’d ask what good are the Scriptures if I’m still miserable now, I learned to make certain statements:

“This book is true.”

“The credit and authority of the God of the universe stand behind it.”

“No man, woman, or human emotion can contradict this.”

I can’t tell you how many emotional escapes this started unlocking. For if the Scriptures are true, I really am fearfully and wonderfully made (Ps. 139:14). I really am moved from fear to sonship (Ro 8:15). I really am seen in the small things (Ps. 37:25) and in affliction (31:7). I really am on an inexorable track to stand blameless before Him at his return (1 Cor. 1:8).

Y’all, this stuff has the royal binding force of the King of Kings behind it!

And if that’s true, then maybe…just maybe…these lies needn’t ruin the moment.

Your feelings are real, but bring them to Christ instead and ask Him for His help and His closeness. He won’t fail you. They are seen, parsed, and reconciled in His presence alone. That’s the whole point, the whole reward. It always was.