Stuck in the Mud

Waiting can feel like being stuck in the mud, energy draining away as each step sinks deeper. Psalm 40:1-8 gives language to that experience, the long, faithful waiting that isn’t passive but aching with hope. “I waited patiently for the Lord,” the psalmist says, and then comes the turning point, God inclines, listens, and lifts. The rescue is physical and emotional, drawn up from the slimy pit and set on rock, stability replacing fear.

A new song follows, not forced praise, but gratitude born of being held when escape seemed impossible.

Mark 2:1-12 shows us that same rescue. A paralysed man is carried by friends who refuse to let obstacles have the final say. Their faith climbs, digs, lowers, and trusts. Jesus sees it and speaks words that go deeper than anyone expects: “Son, your sins are forgiven.” Before strength returns to limbs, wholeness begins in the heart. The teachers object, but Jesus names what God has always been doing, healing that reaches beneath the surface. The man is lifted up, and feet made firm. A new song walking out into the street.

These passages remind us that God’s rescue is never shallow. He hears the cry, heals what’s hidden, and steadies our lives from the inside out. True worship isn’t empty offering, but a heart that can finally say, “I desire to do your will, my God,” because it’s known what it is to be forgiven, lifted, and made whole.

Drowning in Simplified Certainties

Many things in our modern world require complex explanation, yet people increasingly want simple, black and white answers. We live in an age shaped by science, technology, economics, psychology, and global interconnection, all of which are layered and subtle. Real understanding often demands patience, humility, and a willingness to sit with uncertainty. But too many people resist that discomfort. They’d rather reach for certainty than wrestle with complexity, rather accept a neat story than think carefully about probabilities, evidence, or the messy realities of human behaviour.

Social media makes this worse. Its design rewards speed over reflection, outrage over balance, and certainty over curiosity. Algorithms don’t promote nuance because nuance doesn’t travel well. What spreads fastest are the loudest, simplest, most emotionally charged claims, regardless of whether they’re true. In that environment, conspiracy theories flourish and extremism feels normalised. Ignorance isn’t just tolerated; it’s amplified, packaged, and broadcast with confidence.

That’s what makes it so exhausting. Trying to explain basic concepts in science, history, or maths can feel like pushing against a tide. Conversations that should begin with shared foundations often start with fundamental misunderstandings. Instead of building on common ground, you’re forced to go back to first principles again and again. It drains energy, patience, and hope. Yet the work still matters, because without careful thinking, honest learning, and respect for complexity, we lose our grip on truth itself, and that loss carries consequences for everyone.