Our latest patch version contains a few important fixes, including one for the Export page (#1703), which broke with our last release (v0.17).

It also adds an important new command-line tool for admins to easily clear out accounts in a single mass action (#1705). This is especially useful for instances that were affected by a vulnerability that still allowed account registrations on closed servers (v0.16 or earlier).

Download v0.17.1 now, and read on to see what’s new in this version.

User-Facing Changes

• Fix Export page rendering, regression in v0.17, by @thebaer in #1703
• Fix nodeinfo Active User stats for SQLite-backed instances by @thebaer in #1704

Admin-Facing Changes

• Add mass user management via command-line by @thebaer in #1705
• Prompt user to turn on automatic update checking during config start by @thebaer in #1706
• Fix Updates tab not showing in the Admin Dashboard for single-user instances, by @thebaer in #1706
• Show indicator on Admin Dashboard menu item when an update is available, by @thebaer in #1706

Dependencies and minor fixes

• Bump docker/build-push-action from 7.2.0 to 7.3.0 by @dependabot[bot] in #1691
• Bump docker/metadata-action from 6.1.0 to 6.2.0 by @dependabot[bot] in #1696
• Bump docker/setup-buildx-action from 4.1.0 to 4.2.0 by @dependabot[bot] in #1694

Upgrading from v0.17.x or earlier

1. Download the latest release for your operating system and architecture
2. Stop running your writefreely server
3. Replace all files in your installation (except for the keys directory) with the ones in the archive
4. (Only when upgrading from < v0.17) Update your database by running: writefreely db migrate
5. Start your writefreely server again

If you're upgrading from a much earlier version, follow the instructions in each previous release.

#WriteFreely #release

Boy am I tired today. In the ups and downs of everything it is also a family member’s birthday and I have not had the capacity to bake a cake.

My dog seems sleepy and tired today. She looks better than yesterday, but she may still be coming out of being put under anesthesia. I hope she recovers a little more and bounces back like she did last time. I tried getting some rest, but the matter of the fact is that I have been restless for 3-4 days now and staying up late with her did not even seem to faze me a little.

I need to get to work and plan out the next few days. I need a more structured plan. I feel motivated today so I will try to get on that as best as I can.

Thank you for your message. I am currently out of office with no set return date. I will get back to you when the time is right.

We made the difficult decision of doing the procedure on my dog again. I don’t know if it was the right call – financially, emotionally, whatever it is doing to her – but that is where we are now. We spent six hours at the emergency vet because there were some other more severe cases that needed to be seen before her. She did great though and came out of it like a champion. They did not remove as much fluid as the first time – possibly because we brought her in much earlier.

We have decided to set a date to put her to sleep rather than wait for this to happen again. Unless, of course, she gets worse again before the date we chose.

During that entire time, I was brainstorming tons of ideas and was frustrated that I did not have my computer with me to research and jot things down. Maybe tomorrow after some rest I can remember some of the things.

Thank you for your message. I am currently out of office with no set return date. I will get back to you when the time is right.

Gone through the bunker... Rafters pigment fads' reverence of a looping lasso. Round and around — caught! Get down! Sand on sand, clustered, throat-clogging expanse. Doom the rotten! Doom begotten! Doom the room that flips lapsed bandwidth. Every message is a citadel forgotten... A memory misplaced... A lie within the truth of a lie critiquing understanding... Life's apprehending all of man's refusal to ascend. All that bend beyond the rend. All who call the lull a withdrawal a sin. All who spin just to recycle the loss of a win. Let's pretend! Let's make amends! Let's... ...this is the end.

Written July 20,2026. © 2026 AnOublietteofThought.

Caution: This is a post about me switching from one markdown editor to another. If that sounds boring, read no further.

So check it out. I have a 16” laptop I mostly keep at home on my desk. It’s a $600ish Lenovo IdeaPad with a monitor, keyboard, and other peripherals plugged into it. I’ll sometimes bring it with me when traveling, but not when day to day commuting. I pretty much use it as one would a desktop.

When day to day commuting, I have a $170ish 14” HP laptop on me at almost all times. It’s light, and the specs are about as basic as a laptop gets by today’s standards. That’s a deliberate choice on my part. The idea is for that one to be almost exclusively a word processor.

And, I have an iPhone.

I wrote a little about this recently but to recap, I do most of my writing with Word and OneNote on all three machines and that writing is synced up with Microsoft OneDrive. I really like Word and OneNote, but neither of them are markdown friendly, so I developed a bad habit of drafting for this blog directly into the CMS instead of there. So, I got back into drafting for the blog with IA Writer. The idea is I draft there, save as .md or .txt, and publish here. IA Writer is a fantastic markdown editor, but I hit a brick wall with sync between the phone and the PCs for a variety of reasons that I don’t feel like getting too into. Maybe if I used OneDrive for everything or iCloud for everything, this wouldn’t be an issue, or maybe if I could install iCloud on the HP machine this wouldn’t be an issue -I technically can, but that machine doesn’t really have the horsepower for much use as something other than a word processor. And that, the cross platform sync issue isn’t a failure on the part of IA Writer, it’s about the idiosyncratic way I save my stuff and I will go no further into that because I’m boring myself just thinking about it. Alls I’m sayin’ is this post isn’t a dig against IA Writer.

If Word or OneNote were markdown friendly, or if Microsoft were to release an ios app for their NotePad software which is markdown friendly now, I could just use one of those and when that day comes I probably will, but in the meantime I found something else that solves the problem for now.

I’d heard good things from friends about Obsidian, and I’d read good things about StandardNotes on the write.as discussion forums. StandardNotes seemed simpler so I’ve been trying it out for the last day or so.

StandardNotes is owned by Proton. Proton’s thing is super duper encryption features. At press time, I really couldn’t care less about the super duper encryption but what I do care about is it seems to tick all the boxes of what I want in a markdown editor:

• Little to no set up toggling

• Little to no toggling in general

• Little to no learning curve -the whole point of markdown is it’s easy.

• a side by side edit/view option -I’d been spoiled by this feature in IA Writer and now I really would prefer not to use anything that doesn’t have this.

• an ios app

• a Windows app

• a web app -I wasn’t looking for it, but I love it. I’m a big fan of web apps. When people make stuff for the web, they’re making stuff for everybody. So far I haven’t encountered anything the web app can’t do that the other apps can, including the side by side edit/view. Awesome.

• reliable cross platform sync that isn’t a pain in the ass.

So far so good and it seems to do what I need it to do, and there was nothing else I’ve found that ticks all of those boxes. Although I’m a little resentful about getting yet another thing, for now, I’ve made peace with that.

-Ira

Looking into a new sketchbook

Dear Aunt Martha, Today would have been your 100th birthday. I hope it finds you singing songs to Jesus with the heavenly choir, like you always said you wanted to. It took us a couple of days after the storm hit to clear the road well enough to get to the house. By then, FEMA had switched from rescue to recovery. The river had gone back to where it belonged, leaving tons of silt and a few bodies behind. We found that young couple from upriver, their dog, and the baby huddled together still inside their expensive new Jeep lodged between the outcroppings at the fishing hole. It wasn’t pretty.

Caleb said he thought you died before the storm hit. You were in your chair on the porch with your Bible in your lap and the house had not been prepped for weather. Widows were open, and some rain had blown in, but the old place had not been damaged. Patches was in the middle of your bed with a new litter of kittens.

Some civil engineer with a Yankee accent kept walking around the place muttering to himself. When I asked him what was wrong, he went on and on about how great-grandpa had built it to cooperate with nature instead of dominating it and ranted about the hubris of the construction industry. Caleb spit tobacco juice on the ground and said, “Maybe this time you damned flatlanders will learn a thing or two.”

Feelings are still running high in the valley 5 years after the hurricane. People grumble that the big tourist towns got most of the help and some are still living in temporary trailers. These old mountains still grab the clouds and squeeze them, reminding too many of what it was like before what we thought would last forever was blown away.

It’s raining today, the same steady, hypnotic drizzle that set in before the hurricane came along. Everyone in the neighborhood has a radio tuned to the weather channel now and they get nervous whenever they hear thunder.

They finally finished rebuilding the bridge and we can get back and forth into town quicker than taking the detour through Dutch Falls . I quit my job in California and moved into the cabin as soon as the courts said it was legally mine, but it took a while. I haven’t finished unpacking yet. Thank you for remembering me in your will.

I was away too long. I didn’t realize how much I had changed until I was buying gas at a convenience store in town. The kid behind the register gave me the side-eye, up and down look before saying, “You ain’t from around here, are ya?” His attitude changed when I told him who my grandparents were. But I’m not so sure if I fit in anymore. I hadn’t seen Caleb since before I left, when I met up with him to get to your place after the storm he said, “You put on shoes and went to town, didn’t ya? I hope ya didn’t get too big for your raising.”

Since moving back to the valley I’ve been faced with ingrained attitudes inherited from family about those who are different and unfamiliar. I thought they had been erased until I came back to my “roots.” It hit home. People in these hills remember history. To many post Civil War Reconstruction was yesterday. Family karma is passed down in subtle, social ways, too often unconscious until we take active measures to uncover them. It’s not easy and most folk don’t want to spend the time and energy to do it. I thought leaving would fix things. I had to manufacture anger like most young people do and I don’t think I ever fully separated. Life felt claustrophobic and I was not ready to marry a local boy and start spitting out babies. I wanted more glamour and excitement than that, yet your letters and care packages were my secret comforts. I reminisced about the hills under a pen name and managed to survive college by waiting tables. A PhD, three husbands, and a career teaching never filled the empty spaces in my heart.

When I traveled for book tours, spending large amounts of time in cities up north and out west, I resented being treated like an exhibit in a zoo. It sometimes came in hand to have people automatically subtract 30 points from my IQ as soon as I opened my mouth. Most often it came from the “professionals”, the educated social climbers, I encountered. They have asked me whether we wear shoes where I come from and if the movie, Deliverance, was a true story. Some dared ask if I belong to the Ku Klux Klan.

Gentrification is coming into these old backwaters much too fast. I was hoping it would take much longer for the tourists to find us. Last time I saw Caleb, he said that his bull had cornered a group of hikers up into some trees at the edge of the pasture. Apparently, they didn’t read the no-trespassing signs. Edith Hartwell caught a SUV with Florida plates parked beside her garden and a couple of strangers helping themselves to the corn and tomatoes. Locals won’t shop at the old store across the valley anymore since the Wilsons sold it to those people from up north. Last I heard they were opening branches in larger towns and selling nostalgia along with the horehound candy, fishing rods, and cast -iron pans.

I find myself walking in the space between being a local and an outsider. I became “gentrified” through education and experience and no longer fit into a defined tribe. I think Caleb is still mad at me because I refused to marry him straight out of high school, but it’s good to see that he found a nice wife and sturdy children.

Somewhere along the way I became a Zen student and I wonder how my practice will fit into my new lifestyle. Should I turn the farm into a retreat space or monastery? That feels too much like how the Wilson’s treated the old store. Thanks to Zoom, I can continue meeting with Roshi and the sangha as long as a bird doesn’t light onto one of the wires or a squirrel doesn’t short out a transformer.

I could ramble on for hours and too many pages, but the sun is going down and I need to feed the chickens. Patches’ progeny are nagging me for their gushy food and I’m hungry. Instead of sitting on the porch with a Bible, I sit in your chair with a sutra or a koan. There’s not much difference between the two.

I hope your celestial choir practice goes well and you get a break to peek down over the edge of a cloud once in a while to check on me. Much love, more later. Geneva

A retro-styled wristwatch, a Timex T-80 Digital watch, Pelikan, Waterman and Conklin Fountain Pens.

I've posited elsewhere that I have become something of a “techno curmudgeon” — that is someone who has serious reservations about technology, and therefore has adopted older technology. And yes, that is one possible connection between Fountain Pens and Wristwatches, but there is something else that I feel connects them, and other things that I am interested in.

So, I am not certain if this will be a series of posts or not, but sometimes I think there are things that are connected in non-obvious ways. And, hopefully those connections are worthwhile examining.

Necessities Turned Luxuries

While it is quite a niche item these days, when people think of Fountain Pens, they most likely think of Montblanc. Maybe Pelikan, or possibly Conway Stewart. Wristwatches are a little less niche, but most people are still likely to think of luxury brands: Rolex, Omega, Patek Philippe, possibly Audemars Piguet or Cartier.

But there was a time when these items weren't luxuries, and it wasn't all that long ago. That's what I want to talk about just a bit.

When Fountain Pens Were Essential

Fountain pens were pretty essential items up to around the invention of the ballpoint pen. Brands like Waterman, Parker, and Conklin were some of the most recognized in the world. These weren't the luxury items they would become.

The invention of the ballpoint pen can be traced back to John Loud's 1888 patent. However, the initial design for a ballpoint pen were not commercially successful. The primary idea was that a ball-and-socket would be used to deliver ink to a surface. Loud's primary motivation for this design was to be able to write on rough surfaces that a fountain pen was not capable of handling. However, the design proved too rough to use on paper, and so it wasn't a viable product.

It wouldn't be until Laszlo Biro and his brother Gyrogy were able to perfect the formulation of ink, and make it work with the ball-and-socket mechanism for the modern ballpoint pen to be invented. This was in 1943, which, of course was during World War II. It wasn't until after the war that these pens started to proliferate.

Prior to the invention of the Biro (and later Cristal) pen, fountain pens were the primary writing tool.

When Watches Were Essential

The history of mechanical wristwatches is a little more complicated. It wasn't until the 17th century that the hairspring was invented, which led to the creation of reasonably accurate timekeeping devices in the 18th century. However, aside from some particular uses, the modern wristwatch really didn't become a common item until the 20th century. What about the 19th century? Men mostly carried pocket (or fob) watches, which wristwatches were for women.

However, in the 1970 there was a new type of wristwatch: the quartz wristwatch. First brought to market by Seiko on January 31st, 1969 with the Astron, quartz wristwatches quickly started eroding the mechanical watch market. And about a decade later, quartz digital watches would become a new, futuristic force in wristwatches. This disruption to the market forced many mechanical watchmakers out of business, while those that survived found themselves moving into the luxury category.

Brands like Seiko, Citizen, Casio, Timex and Armitron became some of the biggest names in watches during this period in the United States. And they still are today, although the invention of cellphones and smartwatches has largely supplanted both the mechanical and quartz watch industries.

However, the interesting side to this is quartz and digital watches have not completely moved into the luxury market segment the way mechanical watches have. Many of the brands known for their quartz watches offer a range of items from everyday watches, all the way to luxury watches.

Conclusion

I think it's interesting that the items that were at one time essential, but now are seen as either obsolete or luxury items have been making something of a comeback. Don't get me know, I have no illusion that they will ever return to the prominence they had during the 18th-20th centuries. But, it seems as time and technology marches along in the 21st century there are more people looking back to the past technology, and picking up on the items that were essential and embracing them again.

---

Categories: #Essays Tags: #watches, #wristwatches, #FountainPens, #technology, #time License: Copyright Unattributed. Licensed under Creative Commons BY-NC-SA 4.0.

17 July 2026

“The Moon” by David Berman, from Actual Air (1999)

The Moon

A web of sewer, pipe, and wire connects each house to the others.

In 206 a dog sleeps by the stove where a small gas leak causes him to have visions; visions that are rooted in nothing but gas.

Next door, a man who has decided to buy a car part by part excitedly unpacks a wheel and an ashtray.

He arranges them every which way. It's really beginning to take shape.

Out the garage window he sees a group of ugly children enter the forest. Their mouths look like coin slots.

A neighbor plays keyboards in a local cover band. Preparing for an engagement at the high school prom,

they pack their equipment in silence.

Last night they played the Police Academy Ball and all the officers slow-danced with target range silhouettes.

This year the theme for the prom is the Tetragrammaton.

A yellow Corsair sails through the disco parking lot and swaying palms presage the lot of young libertines.

Inside the car a young lady wears a corsage of bullet-sized rodents. Her date, the handsome cornerback, stretches his talons over the molded steering wheel.

They park and walk into the lush starlit gardens behind the disco just as the band is striking up.

Their keen eyes and ears twitch. The other couples look beautiful tonight. They stroll around listening to the brilliant conversation. The passionate speeches.

Clouds drift across the silverware. There is red larkspur, blue gum, and ivy. A boy kneels before his date.

And the moon, I forgot to mention the moon.

Wassermelone – 10. Juli

Heute hatte ich einen sehr ruhigen Tag, und nach den gestrigen Emotionen war das sehr erleichternd. Unsere Kollegin Constanze hat eine schöne Wassermelone ins Büro mitgebracht und sie mit selbst angebauter Pfefferminze vorbereitet. Das war eine sehr schöne Entdeckung. Ich mag Wassermelonen sehr, aber sie sind etwas kompliziert fürs Essen vorzubereiten. Deswegen fand ich es eine sehr schöne Idee, die geschnittenen Stücke mit frischer Pfefferminze zu mischen, sodass sie noch einen frischen Geruch bekommen.

Der Sommer ist für mich mit einigen traditionellen Sachen verbunden, unter denen die wichtigsten Schwimmen im See, Eis und Wassermelone sind. Das Meer gehört für mich nicht so selbstverständlich zum Sommer wie genug Wassermelone und Schwimmen im See. Und da Schwimmen für mich hier noch nicht so erreichbar ist, esse ich fast täglich Wassermelone! Wenigstens eines der wichtigen Elemente für einen perfekten Sommer ist damit aktiviert.

Fast jeden Tag kaufe ich hier eine kleine Wassermelone und habe im Hotel mein wunderschönes Ritual: im Sessel sitzen und diesen sommerlichen Prozess genießen! Man muss ständig die Wassermelone schneiden und essen und schneiden ... Die Hände sind nass und klebrig, der Bauch voller Flüssigkeit, und das Beste ist, dass diese Freude sogar im Hotelzimmer erreichbar ist! Einen großen Teller und ein Messer haben wir inzwischen auch. Außer Sandwiches und Wassermelone haben wir hier keine weiteren kulinarischen Besonderheiten.

Da ich heute schon so detailliert auf kulinarische Freuden und Herausforderungen eingegangen bin, muss ich noch hinzufügen, dass für einen echten Litauer das Leben ohne normales Brot sehr schwierig ist! Wir haben in Litauen eine ganz bestimmte Brotsorte, die international nicht unbedingt so verbreitet ist. Unser traditionelles Brot ist dunkel und hat einen starken Geruch und Geschmack. Hier kann man in den Läden natürlich auch Brot finden, auch ganz dunkles, aber es riecht nicht so ... Nicht so litauisch.

Wir haben auch ziemlich hohe Anforderungen nicht nur an dunkles, sondern auch an weißes Brot, das ebenfalls schön und frisch riechen muss. Hier in Berlin finde ich meistens geruchloses Brot, und das ist für mich ungefähr dasselbe, als würde ein Mensch ohne Intonation und Emotionen sprechen.

Also vermisse ich das Brot! Aber noch nicht so stark. Besonders im Sommer, wenn es so viele Wassermelonen gibt.

Übrigens muss ich hinzufügen, dass ich auch viele andere essbare Vorteile hier in Deutschland sehr schön finde und zu schätzen weiß. Erstens ist es hier beliebt, dieses halbgebackene Brot zu verkaufen, das man zu Hause selbst fertigbacken kann, und das finde ich sehr schön. Natürlich nicht für jemanden, der im Hotel lebt, aber grundsätzlich muss man sich darüber wirklich freuen.

Außerdem gibt es hier eine große Auswahl an leckeren vegetarischen Produkten, die in Litauen nicht so vielfältig ist. Angefangen bei allen möglichen vegetarischen Würstchen bis hin zu veganem Käse, Lachs und vielem anderen.

Meine Assistenten sind allerdings sehr klug und können diese vegetarischen Produkte sofort unterscheiden. Mindaugas sagte zum Beispiel, dass eine Sorte Würstchen genauso riecht wie die „echten“ Fleischwürstchen. Aber nicht für Begemotas und Pipiras. Ich versuchte, beide mit meinen Leckereien zu verwöhnen, aber sie wollten sie nicht einmal nehmen. Also sind sie beim Essen wohl eher Mindaugas' Freunde.

Noch eine schöne Sache: Hier in Schöneweide gibt es ein sehr gutes Burger-Café! Oder vielleicht eine Burgerei? Wenn wir eine Wäscherei und eine Bäckerei haben, dann können wir doch auch Burgerei sagen? Auf jeden Fall haben wir am Abend einen Burger mit Halloumi probiert, und der war viel besser als diese geschmacklosen Burger von McDonald's!

Am Wochenende werde ich sehr wenig machen, mich vielleicht nur ein bisschen mit meinem Schreiben beschäftigen und noch mit meinen iMovie-Studien. Und nächste Woche ist unser Büro im Urlaub, aber ich werde trotzdem manchmal hierherkommen, weil das Internet nur hier wirklich gut funktioniert. Im Hotel haben wir damit auch einige Herausforderungen.

Aber dort, wo es gute Burger, eine gute Eismanufaktur und noch dazu funktionierendes Internet gibt, kann ich auch lernen und arbeiten!

You fan my fire. You have access to my love and passion. You flaunt me in front of your peers. You benefit and feed off my energy. You love the idea of me. But when it counts, you bail out. You run away. You don’t have the capacity to match my depth. I find myself frustrated and unfulfilled. A relationship with you is transactional. I look back. It has always been that way.

It’s been a while since I’ve written something of substance I feel like so I guess today is that day. I feel like I’m more and more coming towards the conclusion that I am not really interested in K In the way that I would hope I would be for a partner and I know that my brain can be irrational and I’m kind of feeling a little bit low right now and so I’m not rushing to anything and I’m waiting for my therapy session to talk friends and such, but I feel like she hasn’t even done anything to egregiously wrong, but there’s just enough things that I realize it isn’t really what I’m looking for. I really dislike the fact that I just am not attracted to her in the way that I thought I was if I’m being honest. We went to the waterpark for our first day and I just didn’t really find myself attracted to her. I also thought she was a more confident person on first impression and more extroverted, but as I got to know her a little bit more, I recognize from the things that she said how she does still struggle with insecurities, and generally isn’t that extroverted or social. And I recognize that in my mind it more drifts towards Oh. I can fix that rather than it be something where I feel like wow that’s like admirable and I would like to be more like that. I also feel like she heavily depends on the friend group that she has, and that’s kind of it. She’s also pretty introverted according to her and doesn’t feel like that up with the kind of person that is best for me. I also feel like she is trying hard to get me to like her, which is nice, but at the same time it feels like it’s almost like she feels like I’m out of her league. And I kind of feel that way in someway. And I feel like myself I am settling for someone that is a really bad sign, enough for me to seriously reconsider everything. Especially this early on. I know that I’m also just not really feeling good so everything would be great, but I find myself almost avoiding her texts or dreading them. I find myself thinking about Moore and More how I can reject her or let her down easily with the minimal amount of pain to her. And I find more and more reasons to call it off rather than to continue. I think I will go on a second date, but I really don’t know if I see this as a relationship.

It sucks both because I feel bad for her, because I think she is really cool and personality wise. I think we get along pretty well, but I just can’t help myself from not really feeling attracted to her or being interested in her in that way. And I wish I could, but at the same time I still feel like I’m settling, and I feel like it would be one of those things where I would feel like I am punching down in someway. I just feel like if I have the option to swap lives with her I would never make that choice. And I feel like the fact that I don’t even consider that for a second makes me concerned. And I feel like a shitty person, even though I know that I’m kind of writing this to no one, but it really does feel like I am out of her league. I hate how much I’m stating that, but I guess it’s because I feel like I haven’t yet found the words to convey it in a way that I feel happy with. And I feel really vain and shallow, but I just don’t find myself interested in her, and it feels more like she is someone who wouldn’t really have a separate life aside for me that I would find fascinating. I feel like she meets a lot of the criteria for some of the basics I’m looking for, like kindness, a level of independence, and humor to some extent. But when I think about someone coming along in the future, that really does line up with a lot of the things that I want rather than the necessities, I feel like I would want to be with them rather than my existing partner if I decided to date K. And that is fucked up and not the kind of situation I would want to be in, and the fact that I don’t feel like K is that person to begin with is enough of an indication that I should listen to that. I still want to at least go in a second date and talk with my therapist, of course, but I feel like I’m more and more making up my mind.

Freundinnen & Freunde der Weisheit! Entscheidungen zu treffen ist nicht immer einfach. Oft stellt sich im Nachhinein heraus, dass wir uns geirrt haben. Solche eigenen Fehlentscheidungen nehmen wir jedoch weniger schlimm wahr als solche, die wir aufgrund schlechter Ratschläge von aussen treffen. Wie können wir also „besser” entscheiden?

Eine Studie der Cornell University zeigt, dass Menschen sich tendenziell schlechter fühlen, wenn sie aufgrund von Ratschlägen falsche Entscheidungen treffen, als wenn sie auf eigene Faust eine schlechte Wahl treffen. Die Forscher wollten herausfinden, ob Menschen mehr Reue empfinden, wenn sie falsche Entscheidungen aufgrund externer Ratschläge treffen, oder ob sie sich bei eigenen Fehlentscheidungen eher mit Pech abfinden. Das Ergebnis: Wer auf seinen eigenen Instinkt hört, fühlt sich langfristig besser – selbst wenn die Entscheidung nicht zum gewünschten Ergebnis führt.

Die Studie ergab, dass Menschen, die nach einem schlechten Rat eine ungünstige Entscheidung trafen, häufiger Reue empfanden, während diejenigen, die ohne äusseren Einfluss falsch entschieden, dies eher auf Zufall oder Pech zurückführten. Die Forscher betonen, dass es wichtig sei, den eigenen Überzeugungen zu folgen und Ratschläge kritisch zu hinterfragen. Viele Menschen nehmen an, dass ein Rat von aussen die Verantwortung mindert – tatsächlich fühlen sie sich aber schlechter, wenn sie sich gegen ihr eigenes Bauchgefühl entscheiden.

Die Autoren empfehlen eine dreiteilige Strategie für bessere Entscheidungen: Erstens sollte man die eigene Kompetenz einschätzen und überlegen, ob man in einem bestimmten Bereich über fundiertes Wissen verfügt. Zweitens ist es entscheidend, zu prüfen, ob der Rat von einer kompetenten und gut informierten Person stammt, die die eigene Situation richtig versteht. Drittens sollte man den Wert der Entscheidung selbst hinterfragen – wenn es um Kleinigkeiten geht, lohnt sich ein intensives Abwägen oft nicht. Letztlich stärkt es die eigene Zufriedenheit, die Verantwortung für Entscheidungen selbst zu übernehmen und dabei auf die eigene Intuition zu vertrauen.

Denkanstoss zum Wochenbeginn

„Wer nur redet, bringt sich um das grosse Vergnügen, zu schweigen.“ – W. Somersett Maugham (1874–1965)

ProductivityPorn-Tipp der Woche: Produktives Prokrastinieren

Wenn Du schon prokrastinierst, dann sinnvoll! Nutze diese Zeit für kleinere, weniger anspruchsvolle Aufgaben, anstatt ziellos durch Social Media zu scrollen.

Aus dem Archiv: Die radikale Tugend der Gelassenheit

Kaum ist das Handy entsperrt, prasseln sie auf uns ein: Nachrichten, Meinungen, Bilder, Konflikte. Was als kurzer Blick auf die Uhr begann, endet oft in einem rastlosen Zappen durch Krisen, Konflikte und Konsum. Zwischen Schlagzeilen, Mitteilungen und algorithmisch kuratierten Ablenkungen verliere ich leicht das Gefühl für das, was mir wirklich wichtig ist. Der Tag beginnt im Reizmodus – und nicht selten bleibt er dort. In solchen Momenten spüre ich, wie weit ich von dem entfernt bin, was ich eigentlich suche: einen ruhigen, klaren Blick – kurz: Gelassenheit. Doch was heisst das eigentlich? Und wie kann man sie finden, ohne sich in Gleichgültigkeit zu verlieren?

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Vielen Dank, dass Du Dir die Zeit genommen hast, diesen Newsletter zu lesen. Ich hoffe, die Inhalte konnten Dich inspirieren und Dir wertvolle Impulse für Dein (digitales) Leben geben. Bleib neugierig und hinterfrage, was Dir begegnet!

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EpicMind – Weisheiten für das digitale Leben „EpicMind“ (kurz für „Epicurean Mindset“) ist mein Blog und Newsletter, der sich den Themen Lernen, Produktivität, Selbstmanagement und Technologie widmet – alles gewürzt mit einer Prise Philosophie.

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Disclaimer Teile dieses Texts wurden mit Deepl Write (Korrektorat und Lektorat) überarbeitet. Für die Recherche in den erwähnten Werken/Quellen und in meinen Notizen wurde NotebookLM von Google verwendet. Das Artikel-Bild wurde mit ChatGPT erstellt und anschliessend nachbearbeitet.

Topic #Newsletter

Hay personas que nacen con muy poco y, aun así, pasan la vida regalando mucho.

Mi abuelita fue una de ellas. Se llamó Pilar Deleón.

Nació en la generación de 1926 en El Salvador, una época en la que la pobreza no era una excepción, sino el paisaje cotidiano. Creció en Santiago Texacuango, entre carencias, con muy pocas oportunidades y sin aprender a leer ni a escribir. Desde los siete años fue abandonada a su suerte en el centro de San Salvador, porque su familia no podía mantenerla a ella y otra hermana en casa. Supongo que así se hacía en ese tiempo, me toca suponer porque ella no podía hablar del tema sin llorar.

La vida no le dio comodidad, pero le enseñó una fortaleza silenciosa. Nunca tuvo grandes bienes. Su riqueza era otra.

Era el plato de comida que siempre aparecía cuando uno llegaba a su casa. Eran los cuentos que parecían infinitos, a pesar de no poder leer. Era el cariño que hacía sentir importante a cualquiera de sus nietos, mis hermanos Claudia y Nelsón. Y, cuando podía, hasta sacaba unas monedas de donde parecía imposible para dárnoslas con una sonrisa.

Hoy, de adulto, entiendo que ese dinero no era poco porque valiera poco. Era enorme porque representaba una parte de todo lo que ella tenía.

La recuerdo sencilla. Sin pretensiones. Sin necesidad de impresionar a nadie. Su vida fue dura, pero nunca permitió que la dureza se convirtiera en amargura. Conservó un corazón generoso hasta el final.

A veces pienso que las personas como ella construyeron este país sin aparecer en los libros de historia. Mujeres que levantaron familias enteras con trabajo, paciencia y un amor que nunca pidió reconocimiento.

Cuando veo esta fotografía no recuerdo la pobreza. Recuerdo la abundancia.

La abundancia de una mesa donde siempre había un espacio para mí.

La abundancia de una infancia llena de cuentos.

La abundancia de un abrazo que hacía sentir que todo iba a estar bien.

Y entiendo que hay personas cuya herencia no se mide en propiedades ni en cuentas bancarias.

Se mide en el tipo de ser humano que ayudaron a formar.

Gracias, abuelita. Porque, sin saber leer un libro, me enseñaste algunas de las lecciones más importantes de la vida.

A veces una canción aparece sin aviso.

No la buscamos. No sabemos todavía qué quiere decirnos. Simplemente comienza a sonar y, de alguna manera, encuentra palabras para algo que nosotros apenas estamos aprendiendo a nombrar.

Eso me pasó con Apocalypse, de Cigarettes After Sex.

La canción comienza con una imagen de destrucción: puentes que se derrumban, ciudades que se convierten en polvo, helicópteros que caen sobre el océano. Todo parece pertenecer al final de una película, a una escena observada desde muy lejos.

Pero quizás no habla del fin del mundo.

Quizás habla del final de un mundo.

Mientras la escuchaba, imaginé a una mujer saliendo de los escombros de una ciudad. No se trata necesariamente de una ciudad real, sino de la vida que conocía: una relación, una época, una versión de sí misma que ya no puede sostenerse.

Todo aquello que alguna vez pareció firme ahora se está deshaciendo.

Hay algo particularmente inquietante en la imagen de alguien que observa y filma la destrucción. Me hizo pensar en la manera en que a veces contemplamos nuestro pasado: repetimos las escenas, volvemos a los mismos recuerdos y tratamos de entender en qué momento comenzó a caer todo.

La ciudad ya desapareció, pero uno continúa mirándola.

Vivir entre las ruinas

El centro emocional de la canción aparece cuando el narrador reconoce que ella lleva demasiado tiempo encerrada y que todavía no puede despedirse.

Me parece que allí está la verdadera dificultad de algunos finales. No siempre basta con que algo termine en la realidad. También tiene que terminar dentro de nosotros.

Podemos alejarnos de un lugar y seguir viviendo mentalmente en él. Podemos aceptar que una relación terminó y continuar conversando con sus fantasmas. Podemos saber que una etapa pasó y, aun así, sentir que una parte de nosotros permanece sentada entre sus ruinas.

Decir adiós no es solamente pronunciar una palabra.

Es aceptar que ya no podemos regresar.

Tal vez por eso la canción no presenta a la mujer como alguien completamente libre. Ella ha logrado salir de algunos escombros, pero todavía lleva consigo aquello que perdió. Su pasado no está intacto, aunque tampoco ha desaparecido por completo.

Se ha convertido en una especie de habitación oscura.

Cruzar mientras sube el agua

Más adelante aparece otra imagen: dos personas tratando de atravesar los ríos mientras el agua comienza a subir.

La escena cambia. Ya no se trata únicamente de observar una ciudad destruida. Ahora hay que moverse.

El agua llega hasta las rodillas. Los recuerdos, el miedo y el dolor amenazan con inmovilizarlo todo. Y en medio de eso, alguien propone cruzar juntos.

Esta parte me parece importante porque el narrador no intenta borrar el pasado de ella. Tampoco le exige que sane de inmediato. No le dice que olvide, que supere o que deje de sentir.

Solamente permanece cerca.

Hay procesos que nadie puede atravesar por nosotros, pero que no tendríamos que atravesar completamente solos. Otra persona no puede reconstruir la ciudad que perdimos, pero puede caminar a nuestro lado mientras buscamos tierra firme.

A veces eso es lo único posible.

Y también es mucho.

Otro lugar donde comenzar

Hacia el final, el narrador promete acercarse cuando ella esté sola y acompañarla cuando se sienta abatida.

No es una promesa de rescate. Al menos yo no la escucho así.

Es una promesa de presencia.

Él no puede cambiar lo que ocurrió ni levantar de nuevo los edificios que cayeron. No puede despedirse en nombre de ella. Pero puede convertirse en otro lugar desde el cual comenzar.

Eso fue lo que más me quedó de la canción.

En ocasiones creemos que empezar de nuevo significa borrar todo lo anterior. Sin embargo, quizá un comienzo nuevo no exige olvidar las ruinas. Quizá consiste en dejar de vivir dentro de ellas.

Salir no significa negar que la ciudad existió.

Significa aceptar que ya no es nuestro hogar.

Hay canciones que llegan solamente para acompañar una tarde. Otras llegan con una precisión extraña y encuentran algo que estaba sucediendo dentro de nosotros sin que lo hubiéramos comprendido por completo.

Apocalypse me hizo pensar en esos momentos en que una parte de la vida se derrumba y todavía no sabemos qué construiremos después. En el tiempo que toma despedirse. En las personas que no nos sacan de las ruinas, pero se quedan cerca mientras aprendemos a caminar entre ellas.

Tal vez por eso algunas canciones sorprenden tanto.

Porque aparecen sin aviso y, durante unos minutos, parecen conocer exactamente el lugar del que estamos tratando de salir.

Suscríbete para recibir las próximas por correo.

What Happens After the Evidence Becomes Personal

A write.as Companion to The Argument for Jesus Christ

There is a moment when the questions stop hiding behind history. The complete case developed in The Argument for Jesus Christ examines the documents, the crucifixion, the burial, the empty tomb, the resurrection appearances, the earliest Christian proclamation, and the explanations offered by believers and skeptics. It asks what most reasonably happened to Jesus of Nazareth after Rome killed Him.

The perspective-shifting implications were explored in the Ghost companion The Resurrection Is Not the Ending You Think It Is, which reframed resurrection as the beginning of new creation rather than an escape from this world. This write.as companion moves somewhere quieter. It enters the private place where a person can find the evidence persuasive and still resist what the conclusion asks of the heart.

Sometimes the deepest barrier to Jesus is not a missing historical answer. It is the fear of being known, corrected, forgiven, or changed. We may say we are waiting for certainty when part of us is waiting for a version of Christianity that will leave our protected life untouched.

Chapter One

When the Question Moves Closer

It is possible to study Jesus without allowing Him to come near.

You can learn the dates.

You can compare the Gospels.

You can examine the differences among the resurrection narratives.

You can read Paul’s letters and recognize that the resurrection proclamation appeared early.

You can consider Peter, James, Mary Magdalene, the Twelve, the larger group, and Paul.

You can decide that conspiracy does not fit.

You can decide survival is historically weak.

You can acknowledge that visions may explain some experiences but struggle to explain the complete pattern without additional assumptions.

You can conclude that resurrection is the most unified explanation if God is allowed to act.

Then you can quietly return to living as though nothing has changed.

That possibility has always unsettled me more than simple unbelief.

Unbelief can be direct.

“I do not think this happened.”

That is a clear position.

But there is another response that sounds like belief while functioning like distance.

“I think Jesus probably rose, but I am not ready to let that conclusion reach this part of my life.”

We rarely say the sentence so plainly.

We continue studying instead.

We ask another question.

We find another debate.

We move from the historical evidence to the manuscript tradition, from the manuscript tradition to church history, from church history to suffering, from suffering to other religions, from other religions to the failures of Christians.

Every subject matters.

Every subject deserves honest thought.

Yet investigation can become a hallway with no door at the end. We keep walking because walking feels safer than arriving.

The resurrection is dangerous because it brings Jesus out of the category of the dead.

A dead teacher can be admired selectively.

We can quote the sayings that comfort us.

We can reinterpret the ones that confront us.

We can place Him beside other wise voices and decide what portions remain useful.

A living Lord does not fit that arrangement.

If Jesus rose, He is not waiting for us to decide how much of Him belongs in our philosophy.

He is asking how much of us belongs to Him.

That is the moment the question moves closer.

It is no longer only, “Did Jesus rise?”

It becomes, “What am I protecting from the risen Jesus?”

Chapter Two

The Part of Me That Wants One More Sign

There is a reasonable desire for evidence.

Christianity makes public claims.

Jesus was crucified under a known Roman governor.

His followers said He was raised.

Paul wrote within the first Christian generation.

The movement placed named people near the origin of its testimony.

These claims should be investigated.

Faith should not be demanded through intimidation, family pressure, or fear.

There is also a way of asking for evidence that no evidence can satisfy.

The standard moves each time it is approached.

If the tomb was empty, perhaps the body was moved.

If the disciples were sincere, perhaps they hallucinated.

If one hallucination cannot explain every claimant, perhaps several different psychological events occurred.

If the belief arose early, perhaps legend developed rapidly.

If the earliest devotion to Jesus was already high, perhaps Jewish followers were capable of extraordinary theological innovation.

Every response remains possible.

History rarely removes every possible alternative.

At some point, the demand for one more sign may no longer be a demand for intellectual honesty.

It may become a request for permission not to decide.

I understand that request.

A final sign would remove responsibility.

If Jesus appeared visibly in the room, if heaven opened, if every doubt vanished, then surrender would feel inevitable. We would not have to choose trust under uncertainty.

But even the Gospels do not describe evidence functioning that way.

People see and misunderstand.

They hear and resist.

They witness unusual acts and assign hostile explanations.

Evidence reveals.

It does not always compel love.

This means the desire for certainty can hide another desire.

I want Jesus to make belief unavoidable so I will not have to admit that trust is involved.

Trust feels vulnerable.

It requires placing weight upon someone outside my control.

I cannot reduce Jesus to a conclusion I own.

The historical case may bring me to the edge, but I must still decide whether He is trustworthy.

That decision is not irrational.

It is the point at which reason becomes personal.

Chapter Three

The Fear That He Will Take Something

People sometimes resist Jesus because they believe Christianity is false.

Others resist because they fear it may be true.

If Jesus is Lord, something will have to change.

Perhaps not everything at once.

Perhaps not in the way a fearful imagination predicts.

But allegiance is never merely decorative.

Jesus may touch the resentment that has become a source of energy.

He may touch the ambition that has become identity.

He may touch the secret habit we call private because private sounds less serious than hidden.

He may touch the political loyalty through which we decide who deserves compassion.

He may touch the relationship we know is built upon dishonesty.

He may touch the money we treat as proof that we are safe.

He may touch the religious identity through which we feel superior to people outside our group.

We can call these concerns intellectual objections.

Sometimes they are.

Sometimes the heart has recognized the cost before the mind is willing to name it.

The fear is not always that Jesus will make life worse.

The fear is that He will take away the things we use to manage life without Him.

Control.

Approval.

Predictability.

The right to remain angry.

The right to define ourselves entirely.

The right to keep one locked room.

The earliest disciples left work, family expectations, and familiar assumptions to follow Jesus. They did not understand the full cost when they began.

Peter thought he was ready for anything and discovered he was not ready for a servant Messiah who refused the kind of victory Peter expected.

The disciples did not merely struggle to understand what Jesus taught.

They struggled because His way threatened the way they imagined safety.

We do too.

We may say we want Jesus to save us.

We are less certain about allowing Him to dismantle the forms of self-salvation we already trust.

Chapter Four

The Identity Built Around Being Right

Some of us protect ourselves through correctness.

We want the right theology.

The right interpretation.

The right political judgment.

The right historical conclusion.

The right moral position.

Truth matters.

Ideas have consequences.

A belief can heal or destroy.

The problem begins when being correct becomes the way we prove we are worthy.

Then disagreement feels like danger.

Correction feels like humiliation.

Apology feels like death.

We do not merely defend a position.

We defend the identity that position has created.

Christian environments can intensify this.

A person learns that being spiritually safe means possessing correct answers. Uncertainty becomes suspicious. Questions become signs of rebellion. Leaders display confidence even when they are unsure because authority has been built around never appearing wrong.

The resurrection should destroy this fear.

Peter was wrong repeatedly.

He misunderstood Jesus’ mission.

He resisted the prediction of suffering.

He overestimated his courage.

He denied knowing Jesus.

Then the risen Jesus restored him.

Peter’s future did not depend upon proving he had always been correct.

It depended upon grace.

Paul had built his life around religious zeal. He believed he was defending God while persecuting the people who proclaimed Jesus.

His conversion required more than adding a new fact.

He had to accept that his sincerity had not protected him from being wrong.

That may be one of the most painful forms of repentance.

It is easier to admit we behaved badly than to admit the worldview through which we justified the behavior was mistaken.

The resurrection gave Paul a future beyond that collapse.

It can do the same for us.

If identity rests in Jesus, we can be corrected without being erased.

We can change our minds.

We can say, “I defended that position, and I was wrong.”

We can say, “I used Scripture carelessly.”

We can say, “I treated someone unfairly because I was more interested in winning than understanding.”

This is not weakness.

It is evidence that being right has stopped functioning as our savior.

Chapter Five

The Anger I Do Not Want Healed

Some pain becomes anger.

Some anger becomes protection.

Some protection becomes identity.

At first, resentment feels like strength.

It gives form to injury.

It keeps the story clear.

Someone hurt me.

I know who was wrong.

I will not allow myself to become vulnerable again.

There is wisdom in recognizing danger. Forgiveness does not require returning to an unsafe person. Boundaries are not hatred. Justice is not revenge.

But resentment can continue long after protection has been established.

It becomes a private relationship with the person who caused harm.

We rehearse the conversation.

We imagine the apology.

We imagine refusing the apology.

We imagine the moment everyone finally recognizes that we were right.

The offender remains present inside us because anger keeps building a room for that person.

Jesus’ command to forgive can feel offensive here.

It may sound like another religious person telling the wounded to make life easier for the one who caused the wound.

That is not Christian forgiveness.

Forgiveness does not say the harm was acceptable.

It does not remove consequences.

It does not restore trust automatically.

It does not prevent legal action.

It does not require silence.

Forgiveness means the wound will not be allowed to transform us permanently into a person ruled by the offender.

It releases final vengeance to God.

That release can feel like losing the only power we have left.

This is why part of us may not want to be healed.

Healing threatens the identity built around injury.

Who will I be if I am no longer the person carrying this anger?

What will motivate me?

How will I honor what happened?

Resurrection offers a future in which the wound remains part of the story without remaining the ruler of the story.

The risen Jesus bears wounds.

They identify Him.

They do not imprison Him.

Perhaps forgiveness begins there.

Not with forgetting.

Not with returning.

With allowing God to create a life larger than what another person did.

Chapter Six

The Shame That Pretends to Be Humility

Shame can sound humble.

“I know what kind of person I am.”

“God may forgive others, but not me.”

“I deserve to remain outside.”

The words appear to take sin seriously.

They may actually place our judgment above God’s mercy.

If Jesus offers forgiveness and I insist that my guilt is too great, I am not only confessing failure.

I am declaring that I understand the reach of grace better than He does.

This does not mean every feeling of guilt should disappear immediately. Conscience can carry truth. Wrongdoing may have consequences that continue for years.

Grace does not erase responsibility.

It makes responsibility possible without despair.

A person hiding beneath shame cannot repair much. Energy is spent protecting secrecy, managing appearance, or punishing the self.

Repentance turns outward.

What truth must be told?

Who was harmed?

What can be restored?

What consequence must be accepted?

What pattern must end?

Peter could not unspeak his denial.

Paul could not restore every life affected by persecution.

Their past remained real.

Grace gave them a future in which the past could be confessed without becoming the only true thing about them.

Shame says, “You are what you did.”

Grace says, “What you did must be named, but Jesus has the authority to name you beyond it.”

That can be harder to receive than condemnation.

Condemnation allows us to remain focused on ourselves.

Grace turns attention toward the one who forgives and the life that forgiveness makes possible.

We may prefer self-punishment because it leaves us in control.

Receiving mercy requires admitting we cannot pay the debt through suffering.

The resurrection declares that Jesus’ mercy is not a beautiful idea spoken by a dead teacher.

The one who forgave sinners lives.

His verdict remains available.

Chapter Seven

The Church I Cannot Trust

For some people, resistance to Jesus is tangled with the church.

That is not irrational.

We learn about Jesus through people.

When those people lie, control, abuse, humiliate, or protect themselves, the name of Jesus becomes attached to the harm.

A child cannot always separate God from the adult who claims to speak for God.

A member cannot easily distinguish Christ’s authority from the leader who demands unquestioning obedience.

A victim cannot simply return to trust because another Christian says the offender was imperfect.

Some failures are not ordinary imperfection.

They are betrayals of power.

A church can become skilled at preserving its public witness while destroying the people whose stories threaten that witness.

The resurrection should make this impossible to defend.

If Jesus lives, the church does not need to protect Him through dishonesty.

If Jesus lives, the collapse of one ministry does not collapse the kingdom.

If Jesus lives, removing a harmful leader does not remove God’s presence.

Institutions hide truth when they act as though their survival is more important than obedience.

That is practical unbelief.

It is fear that resurrection is not enough.

A person wounded by church may need to leave a community.

That decision can be necessary.

Leaving a harmful church is not the same as leaving Jesus.

Questioning a pastor is not the same as questioning God.

Refusing manipulation is not rebellion against Christ.

The risen Jesus stands above every institution using His name.

He can be approached outside the room where harm occurred.

This does not mean community becomes unnecessary. Christian faith is relational and communal.

It means community must be safe enough for truth.

A trustworthy church does not require members to pretend leaders are flawless.

It welcomes questions.

It protects children.

It believes victims seriously enough to investigate.

It applies accountability to powerful people.

It allows repentance without confusing repentance with automatic restoration to authority.

The risen Jesus is not threatened by truth.

Any church terrified of truth should ask what it actually believes about resurrection.

Chapter Eight

The Need to Be Seen as Good

There is a difference between wanting to do good and needing to be seen as good.

The first can produce service.

The second produces performance.

Religious life offers many opportunities for performance because goodness can become public.

A person can speak about compassion while remaining unkind at home.

A leader can preach humility while arranging every room around personal importance.

A Christian can share messages about forgiveness while maintaining private contempt.

The image becomes easier to manage than the heart.

Jesus repeatedly confronted this division.

He warned against giving, praying, and fasting for public recognition.

He exposed people who appeared righteous outwardly while remaining corrupt inwardly.

His concern was not that public acts are always false. Good works can encourage others.

The concern was the audience we are truly serving.

Resurrection makes image management unnecessary.

If Jesus is alive, He already knows.

The hidden motive is not hidden.

Neither is the quiet act of faithfulness no one applauds.

This is both frightening and freeing.

Frightening because there is no private darkness where we remain unseen.

Freeing because we no longer have to prove ourselves continually to people.

The person who knows we failed is the person who offers grace.

The person who sees the unnoticed service is the one whose judgment finally matters.

We can stop arranging every act around recognition.

We can become honest without controlling how honest confession affects our image.

The need to be seen as good slowly gives way to the desire to become truthful.

That change is resurrection-shaped.

The false image loses life.

The real person steps into light.

Chapter Nine

The Life I Planned Without Him

Many people do not reject Jesus angrily.

They simply have plans.

A career.

A relationship.

A place to live.

A version of success.

A schedule for happiness.

Jesus may be welcome as support for those plans.

He can provide peace, encouragement, moral guidance, and protection.

The conflict begins when His direction differs from ours.

We may say we seek God’s will while quietly asking Him to endorse the life already chosen.

Prayer becomes a request for divine approval.

When approval does not come, we assume God is silent.

The idea of surrender can sound passive, as though Christians should stop planning, avoid ambition, and wait for supernatural instructions.

That is not necessary.

Human beings were created to think, cultivate, build, and make decisions.

The question is whether plans remain open to the authority of Jesus.

Can the career be surrendered if advancement requires dishonesty?

Can the relationship be questioned if love has become possession?

Can the dream be released if it depends upon exploiting others?

Can success be redefined if the risen Jesus calls greatness service?

Sometimes we fear surrender because we imagine God delights in taking what we love.

The cross reveals a God who gives Himself.

That does not mean discipleship costs nothing.

Jesus may lead us away from things we wanted.

But the purpose is not arbitrary deprivation.

It is freedom from lives built around false gods.

A plan becomes a god when losing it means losing the reason to live.

Resurrection says no created plan deserves that power.

The future belongs to Jesus even when our preferred future ends.

Chapter Ten

The Silence I Interpret as Absence

Prayer becomes difficult when nothing happens.

At first, a person asks confidently.

Then repeatedly.

Then carefully.

Eventually the prayer becomes smaller, perhaps because disappointment feels easier when expectation is restrained.

Silence begins to acquire meaning.

God does not care.

God is not there.

I am being punished.

My faith is inadequate.

The resurrection does not provide a simple explanation for unanswered prayer.

Jesus was raised, yet Paul still suffered.

The apostles still died.

Churches still struggled.

The new creation had begun, but it was not complete.

Prayer is not control over that tension.

It is relationship within it.

There are moments when God’s silence remains unbearable.

Christian language should not make the pain smaller.

We do not know why one person is healed and another is not.

We do not know why one family experiences reconciliation and another continues grieving.

We do not know why clarity comes to one seeker while another remains uncertain.

The resurrection changes one conclusion.

Silence cannot prove final abandonment.

The disciples lived through a period in which Jesus was dead and no visible answer had come.

They did not know the silence was temporary.

We should be careful not to turn this into a promise that every earthly situation will reverse soon.

Some do not.

The resurrection reaches beyond the earthly timeline.

Its promise is not that every silence will end with the answer we want.

Its promise is that God’s final word over creation has been revealed through Jesus.

Life.

Vindication.

Restoration.

The silence remains painful.

It is no longer empty of all hope.

Chapter Eleven

The Private Fear of Death

Death can remain abstract for years.

Then a diagnosis arrives.

A friend dies unexpectedly.

A parent weakens.

A person notices changes in the body that cannot be reversed.

The resurrection moves from doctrine to fear.

Do I truly believe this?

What will it feel like to die?

Will I remain myself?

Will I see the people I love?

What if I was wrong?

Faith does not always remove these questions.

Jesus faced death with anguish.

Christian courage is not emotional numbness.

The resurrection gives fear somewhere to stand.

Christian hope does not rest upon the idea that human consciousness is naturally indestructible. It rests upon God’s power and faithfulness.

The one who created can raise.

The one who remembers Jesus’ body can remember ours.

The one who did not surrender Jesus to decay will not abandon creation permanently.

This is not scientific description.

The mechanism remains beyond us.

Resurrection is not made plausible by explaining how it fits within ordinary biology.

It is made possible by God.

The historical case for Jesus provides the reason to trust that this is not wishful thinking alone.

The claim began with a specific death, a specific burial, and specific people who believed they encountered the dead man alive.

Christian hope is attached to history before it reaches our graves.

Fear may remain.

The risen Jesus does not require us to pretend.

He asks us to entrust the fear to Him.

Chapter Twelve

The Small Acts That Reveal the Real Verdict

We may imagine that following Jesus requires one dramatic decision.

Sometimes it does.

More often, allegiance becomes visible through small acts no one will remember.

Telling the truth when the lie would be easier.

Refusing to repeat a story that damages someone.

Listening without redirecting the conversation toward ourselves.

Admitting uncertainty.

Apologizing without explaining away the harm.

Protecting a person who cannot benefit us.

Releasing the need to humiliate an opponent.

These acts appear ordinary because resurrection often enters quietly.

A seed enters the ground quietly.

Bread is broken quietly.

A name is spoken in a garden.

A meal is shared beside water.

The new creation does not always announce itself through spectacle.

It appears whenever death’s patterns lose authority.

A lie dies and truth begins.

Pride dies and service begins.

Secrecy dies and confession begins.

Contempt dies and recognition begins.

Resentment loosens and mercy becomes possible.

These acts do not earn salvation.

They reveal trust.

They show what we believe possesses the final word.

If reputation possesses the final word, we hide.

If power possesses the final word, we dominate.

If resentment possesses the final word, we punish.

If Jesus possesses the final word, we can choose another way even when the old way feels safer.

Chapter Thirteen

The Prayer I Can Pray Before I Am Ready

Some people believe they must resolve every question before approaching Jesus.

But prayer can begin within uncertainty.

Not performance.

Not pretending.

A truthful prayer.

Jesus, I think You may be alive, but I am afraid of what that means.

I want evidence, but I also want control.

I want forgiveness, but I do not want to name everything.

I want healing, but I have made an identity from the wound.

I want to trust You, but people using Your name taught me to be afraid.

Meet me in the truth.

Protect me from self-deception.

Protect me from manipulation.

Show me what I am resisting.

Give me enough courage for the next honest step.

A prayer like this does not force an emotional experience.

No voice may come.

No sign may appear.

The next step may be ordinary.

Reading a Gospel slowly.

Speaking with a trustworthy person.

Telling the truth about a hidden pattern.

Returning to a question previously avoided.

Seeking professional help for a wound prayer alone has not resolved.

Faith does not compete with therapy, medicine, history, or careful thought.

If Jesus is Lord of truth, every genuine path toward truth belongs beneath His authority.

The prayer matters because it opens the protected room.

It tells Jesus we are willing to be met there.

Chapter Fourteen

What Surrender Is Not

Surrender has been abused in religious settings.

People have been told to surrender questions.

Surrender boundaries.

Surrender legal rights.

Surrender judgment to a leader.

Surrender personal safety.

That is not the surrender Jesus asks.

Jesus does not require us to hand conscience to another human being.

He does not demand that victims remain available to offenders.

He does not ask believers to accept every claim made by someone with religious authority.

Christian surrender is directed toward Jesus.

Because it is directed toward Jesus, it can require resistance to human power.

A person may need to say no to a church.

No to a manipulative family member.

No to an employer demanding dishonesty.

No to a political movement treating cruelty as strength.

No to an internal voice that confuses shame with holiness.

Surrender to Jesus is not passivity.

It is reordered allegiance.

No human relationship is permitted to occupy His place.

This can make a person more courageous, not less.

The one who no longer needs human approval can tell the truth.

The one who believes death is not final can accept a cost.

The one whose identity rests in grace can admit failure.

Surrender does not destroy personhood.

It frees personhood from false masters.

Chapter Fifteen

The Place Where Belief Becomes Trust

Belief can remain a conclusion.

Trust places weight upon the conclusion.

I may believe a bridge is structurally sound.

Trust begins when I walk onto it.

The analogy is imperfect because Jesus is a person, not a structure.

Still, the distinction matters.

A person can accept every central claim about Jesus and continue relying upon something else for actual security.

Money.

Control.

Approval.

Certainty.

Anger.

Religious performance.

Trust becomes visible when those supports are challenged.

Will I tell the truth if truth costs approval?

Will I obey if obedience interrupts the plan?

Will I receive grace when shame feels more familiar?

Will I release final vengeance?

Will I remain open to Jesus after Christians failed me?

These questions are not answered once.

Trust is practiced repeatedly.

Peter trusted, failed, returned, and continued learning.

Paul trusted and still faced conflict, weakness, uncertainty, and suffering.

Christian faith is not one uninterrupted emotional state.

It is a direction maintained through return.

We wander.

We confess.

We return.

The risen Jesus remains.

Conclusion

The Door I Was Guarding

The argument for Jesus Christ can take us a long way.

It can establish that Jesus existed.

It can place Him within first-century Judaism.

It can show that Rome crucified Him.

It can demonstrate that the resurrection proclamation arose early.

It can establish that Peter, James, Paul, and groups of followers sincerely believed Jesus appeared.

It can examine the probable empty tomb.

It can compare survival, conspiracy, visions, relocation, legend, and resurrection.

It can conclude that resurrection best explains the whole pattern if God is allowed to act.

Then the argument reaches a door.

The door is not another historical problem.

It is the private place we guard.

Behind it may be fear.

Control.

Shame.

Anger.

Disappointment.

A life plan.

A church wound.

A hidden habit.

A need to be right.

A fear of death.

Jesus does not force the door.

He also does not pretend it is unimportant.

The evidence may have brought us close enough to hear the question.

Why are you still resisting Me?

The answer may not be unbelief.

It may be that we understand enough to know surrender will be real.

Christianity does not offer a risen Jesus who leaves every protected thing untouched.

It offers mercy strong enough to enter what we have hidden.

Truth gentle enough to expose without destroying.

Authority that serves rather than controls.

Life that does not deny the grave but passes through it.

The quiet resistance inside us does not surprise Jesus.

Peter resisted.

Thomas questioned.

James stood outside.

Paul opposed.

The risen Christ met each one differently.

He can meet us without requiring that we imitate their experiences.

No visible appearance may come.

The historical testimony remains.

The invitation remains.

The next step may be smaller than expected.

Open the door.

Tell the truth.

Pray without pretending.

Read His words without rushing to defend yourself.

Let the question become personal.

The argument for Jesus Christ is ultimately not an argument that God wants to win against us.

It is the argument that God has come near to bring us home.

The cross reveals how fiercely we resist that nearness.

The resurrection reveals that our resistance did not become His final word.

Jesus Christ was crucified.

Jesus Christ was raised.

Jesus Christ is Lord.

The quiet place where I still resist Him may be the very place where He is waiting to begin something new.

Your friend,

Douglas Vandergraph

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