My sophomore year at Union College, things started coming loose. I think the rage did that. Having once noticed something in myself I could not explain, it seemed to make room to notice other things. A playground I was standing with a friend who was supervising small children on a playground. I was not thinking about my brother. I was thinking about nothing in particular, looking at three- and four-year-olds doing what three- and four-year-olds do. Suddenly it just hit me all at once: there is no possible way one of those children could cause the disability my brother had. Not by thinking it. Not by wishing it. Not by anything they did or failed to do. I had believed since he was born that I was somehow responsible for my brother’s disability. Nobody put that idea in my head. It is simply what a three-year-old mind does — at that age children are the center of their own universe, and when something enormous happens they conclude they caused it. A core belief There is a term for this in the mental health field this type of belief. We call it a core belief. Core beliefs are the conclusions we reach about ourselves so early that we never recognize them as conclusions. They form before we have the words to say them out loud, and then they sit underneath everything else. You do not examine a core belief the way you examine an opinion, because it does not feel like something you think. It feels like something that is simply true — the floor you are standing on, not a piece of furniture you could move. Core beliefs can be helpful such as I am loved or I am capable. A great core belief I mentioned in Part 4 was God does not do this to people. However, they can also be negative and push a person unconsciously to do things in ways they do not need to. In this case, my core belief was I am responsible for what happened to my brother. I never said that sentence to myself or out loud. I would have denied it if anyone had asked me. I ran my entire childhood on it. Which is why finding out it was false did not feel like changing my mind. It felt like the ground moving under my feet. The other half of the same thought Something else arrived in the same breath, and it took the wind out of me. Until that moment I had not known I was trying to FIX him. The rope, the training wheels, the card racks, the crawling lessons on the living room floor — and I had never once understood what I was doing. I thought I was helping. I thought I was being a good sister. Standing at the edge of that playground I saw the whole shape of it at once. I had been trying to heal my brother. I had been trying, since I was three years old, to undo the thing I believed I had done. I had not caused it. I could not fix it. It was never mine to fix. Both of those were true the entire time, and nobody had any idea that was the project — least of all me. The truth will set you free And you shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free. John 8:32 That is what happened on the edge of that playground. No one preached at me. No one corrected me. I simply and suddenly knew the truth. What I concluded at three was no sin to repent of. It was a small person’s conclusion, drawn with a small person’s mind, in a house where something terrible had happened. It was just wrong — and being wrong about yourself for seventeen years costs you something, even when nobody can see the bill. If you are carrying a verdict you handed down on yourself before you were old enough to know better, take it out and look at it in the light. The truth is what sets people free, and some of the truth you need is about you. Lord, thank You for the afternoons when something comes loose. For everyone still carrying a sentence they passed on themselves at young age— bring it into the light, and tell them the truth about it. Amen. Next time: the words I finally found. Click HERE to see the first in this series.

Read more...

Sabbath School Lesson for October 31-November 6, 2026 Introduction of Lesson 6, The Prophetic Writings Memory Text: “For whatever things were written before were written for our learning, that we through the patience and comfort of the Scriptures might have hope.” Romans 15:4 NKJV A lasting, effective way for us to know God better has been the written word of God. Sometimes, God instructed prophets to relay messages to us orally or through dramatized actions, but it’s also good to have the permanent, written record to help us understand God and grow our love for Him. The Scriptures are a valuable source of learning for the Christian. They give comfort by patiently explaining, in the prophet’s own words, what God has communicated by revelation to His chosen messengers. Our hope is built on the revelations and promises we find in the Holy Bible. Different writers mean that there are various styles and genres in the Bible to appeal to our individual needs. There we find narratives, history, poetry, sad laments, and letters. There’s something there for everyone, and it’s wise to read and apply as many as we can to our present situation. This week, we’ll explore: Sunday: The Call to Write Monday: Literary Genres and Styles Tuesday: Literary Assistants Wednesday: Literary Sources Thursday: Divine Message and Human Imperfections Friday: Ellen G. White’s Writings Sunday: The Call to Write The Bible reveals that God, at times, called for a prophet to record His messages. Their written words would serve “as a memorial” so people would be reminded of God’s leading in the past. Moses was the first we know of to receive such a call to write (Exodus 17:14). Along with Jeremiah, another major prophet, they each wrote several books of the Bible we have today. Although the Bible was written under a great many different circumstances, several writers felt called to write at times when it was most feasible and helpful for them. Moses, for example, wrote his five books while in the desert. David wrote several psalms while being hunted down by King Saul, and Daniel, while serving in the foreign governments of Babylon and Medo-Persia. In the New Testament, we likewise find Paul writing his letters while in prison and John, while he was exiled on the island of Patmos. Each Bible writer felt a divine, urgent call to write God’s words as faithfully as they were able. Bible verses for reflection and discussion: Exodus 17:14 and Jeremiah 36:2, 3 For what reason were Moses and Jeremiah told to write? Psalm 54:1-7 How do David’s psalms, written when he was running away from Saul, benefit people even today? Monday: Literary Genres and Styles Isaiah 13:1 refers to a message, prophecy, oracle, or pronouncement that was given to Isaiah. Various translations of the Bible use these different words. But the King James Version calls it a “burden”, which may have been a good description. The important messages given to prophets often felt like a burden they were compelled to share with others. Fortunately, the prophets were allowed to express these “burdens” in various styles that felt comfortable to them. Literary devices such as parallelism, metaphors (symbols), and hyperbole (exaggeration) were used, making the Scriptures appealing for us to read and easier to understand and remember. Jeremiah 2:4-9 even used courtroom imagery, with God as the prosecutor, laying out a case for the judgment He was about to give. The Bible contains all kinds of writing: history, songs, parables, and letters. Another genre would be apocalyptic writing, as we see with Daniel, Zechariah, and John. These apocalyptic books abound in cosmic themes, rich symbolism, and descriptions of heavenly places and beings. Verses for reflection and discussion: Isaiah 13:1 Have you ever felt like something you had to share was a “burden”? What made it feel that way? Why have biblical writers been allowed to use different styles and genres, as they recorded their messages from God? How does that benefit us? Tuesday: Literary Assistants Circumstances made it sometimes necessary for prophets to employ assistants to help with their writing. Not everyone has the writing or language skills necessary for such a task. Not surprisingly then, we find evidence of careful editorial work being done for some prophets and apostles, with their assistants even being identified on occasion. Baruch, one assistant, reveals that the major prophet Jeremiah dictated to him what to write (Jeremiah 36:17, 18). Paul, as he was commending several helpers of the church, didn’t forget Tertius, mentioning him as the one who wrote his letter (Romans 16:22). Bible scholars have questioned the two letters of Peter, because of their differing literary styles. It’s been mostly accepted that Peter, who was fluent only in Aramaic, may have needed help from two different translators to enable him to reach those whose native language was Greek. The work of literary assistants should not alarm us when we remember that it’s the thoughts of God that count, not the words themselves. God, of course, was behind the thoughts of prophets who wrote the Scriptures, and even the final compilation and preservation of their words. Verses for reflection and discussion: Jeremiah 36:17, 18 and Romans 16:22 What are some of the reasons why literary assistants are needed–both today and in biblical times? Colossians 4:18 and 2 Thessalonians 3:17 Why did Paul add this to the end of some of his letters? What does this admission tell us about who did the transcribing of his words? Wednesday: Literary Sources The authors of the Bible did not hesitate to quote other sources in their recording of God’s messages. Several of them, like Luke, Jude, Paul, Jeremiah, Ezra, and Nehemiah, all quoted or referenced other writings that expressed the messages they were sharing. Luke, who wrote one of the Gospels about Jesus’ life, was not an eyewitness to any of the events, but knew several of Jesus’ companions and recorded their stories about the Messiah. He definitely gathered and used several information sources to complete <a class="cat-post-excerpt-more" href="https://outlookmag.org/the-teachers-notes-the-prophetic-writings-lesson-6/" title="Continue reading The Teacher’s Notes–The Prophetic Writings, Lesson 6 Adult Bible Study Guide, 2026 4Q, “The Gift of Prophecy”“>Read more…

Read more...

I went to college to become a physical therapist. All of my life I had been doing it. All of my life people had told me I should go into it as a career. Now I would be trained for it, and paid for it, and do it for strangers. It seemed obvious. It seemed like the thing I was for. The rage Toward the end of my freshman year, and into the summer, I began to notice something in myself that frightened me. Every time I saw a person in a wheelchair, or using a walker, I felt rage. A low quiet rage. Not pity. Not discomfort. Rage — sudden and complete and entirely unreasonable, at a stranger who had done nothing but cross a parking lot in front of me. There was nothing wrong with those people. The feeling was not a judgment about them and it was not anything I believed. It simply arrived, over and over, and I could not stop it and I could not explain it. What it actually was I know now. I had spent eighteen years in a house where a wheelchair was not a piece of equipment. It was the reason. It was the shape of everything that had been decided about my life before I was old enough to weigh it. My body had learned what those objects meant in my house, and it went on answering that meaning no matter who was sitting in the chair. That is displaced anger. Many people can have it for a wide variety of reasons. And it says nothing whatsoever about the person, situation, or object which may set it off. But I was twenty, and nobody had ever told me any of that. And I had no one to talk to about it. What I concluded instead A person who feels this cannot be a physical therapist. That was the whole of my reasoning, and I could not see a flaw in it. I could not spend a career standing beside people I felt rage toward — that would not be good for them or me. So I gave up the only plan I had ever had. Eventually, I switched to social work because I had friends in that program. That is the entire reason. A twenty-year-old in trouble goes where she knows somebody. The sentence nobody said I have thought about that girl for a long time. The feeling had a name. It had a name the whole time, and there were people in the world who could have explained it to her in two sentences — what it was, where it came from, and why it had nothing to do with anyone in a parking lot. She did not have those two sentences. So she made one of the largest decisions of her life around a feeling nobody could name for her. I do not regret the life that followed. But I wish I had been given the words at the time, which is why I write them down. There is someone else who needs these words. God was leading even though I was confused. Choosing social work as a major gave me exposure to the information I needed to explain the rage. Lord, You are not frightened by what rises in us unbidden. Where shame has kept us silent, send someone who can name the thing out loud — and let us be that person for somebody else. Amen. Next time: the afternoon I found out I had been wrong since I was three. See the FIRST in the series HERE 

Read more...

“Brother, I have a problem, I need help before this afternoon,” the message read. A pastor from India whom I had worked with for some time outlined his problem and asked for an urgent reply. It had something to do with baptism, scheduled to take place within two or three hours. I dashed off a brief answer and hit send. It took all of five minutes. Twenty years earlier, I had been assigned an article on baptism for an outreach magazine with a circulation of 250,000. The editor gave me a deadline of several weeks, and I used all that time. I cared no less about my brother in India than about those 250,000 readers. He just needed his answer faster. The apostles knew both kinds of deadline. We read the New Testament epistles the way we read a textbook. Chapter and verse, doctrine by doctrine, as if Paul sat down one quiet morning and decided to write some theology. He didn’t. Most of the epistles are first-century email. Something went wrong in a church somewhere. Someone carried the news, sometimes hundreds of miles. And Paul — or Peter, or James, or John — answered. Not with a thesis. With a response to a fire. Realizing that changes our understanding of how they were written. Listen to Paul in 1 Corinthians: “I thank God that I baptized none of you except Crispus and Gaius.” Then he remembers. “I did baptize also the household of Stephanas.” Then he isn’t sure. “Beyond that, I do not know whether I baptized anyone else.” That isn’t a man polishing a manuscript. That’s a man talking while a scribe writes it down. Writing is idealized speech. Dictation is not. So when someone argues that a letter “isn’t in Paul’s style,” I want to ask: which Paul? Lay my five-minute reply beside that magazine article and you might conclude two different men wrote them. Each letter shows you what kind it is. A letter answers a question we don’t always hear. We have Paul’s half of the conversation. The other half — the report, the crisis, the people involved — we have to reconstruct from clues in the letter itself. Paul’s counsel addresses a particular situation. Until we know the situation, we can’t be sure which part is the principle and which part is the application. That sounds like an obstacle—but it’s a doorway. Once you ask what happened that made him write this? the letters stop being lists of rules. They become stories. People in trouble. A friend who cares enough to answer.  They contain counsel concerning specific circumstances, not necessarily universal truths. Names you skimmed past turn out to be people standing in the room, or fighting the fire in another city. Take two letters. Philemon, Paul’s shortest, fits on a single page, and almost nobody reads it. Colossians runs four chapters, and almost everybody quotes it. The canon puts five other letters between them, and we file the two in different places in our heads. One is a personal note about a slave. The other is high theology about the cosmic Christ. But they went out together, because Paul had two problems from the same place. The two letters traveled the same road, and they would be read in the same house. Two questions. One answer.  

Read more...