KyKingdomKum

I have been thinking about the way God talks about us. Not simply what He asks of us. Not what He has called us to do. Not even what He has promised to do for us. But the way He speaks about us . In Deuteronomy 32:9, we read: “For the LORD’s portion is His people.” His portion. His inheritance. Then, just one verse later, we are told that He kept him “as the apple of his eye.” And then there is Zephaniah 3:17: “The LORD thy God in the midst of thee is mighty; he will save, he will rejoice over thee with joy; he will rest in his love, he will joy over thee with singing.” He rejoices over us. With singing. When I consider language like that, a question comes to mind: Then why would I settle for less? If God sees me as His portion, why would I become comfortable being treated as though I am merely an option? If He considers me His inheritance, why would I accept being treated as though I am disposable? If He keeps me as the apple of His eye, why would I call indifference love? If He rejoi...

A modern parable about love, lessons, letting go, and recognizing what is suitable. What if the person who wasn't right for you was still part of your preparation? What if the relationships that ended weren't necessarily mistakes? What if some encounters were lessons? Some endings were protection? What if even the experiences that hurt were doing a work in us—and for us? The Heifer, the Chickenhead, and the Serpent was born from looking at the familiar creation story through the lens of process. Before the man recognized the one who was suitable for him, God brought every living creature before him to see what he would call them. He encountered. He observed. He named. And then, at last, he recognized. Maybe there is something in that for us. Maybe understanding process gives us permission to let go. To stop carrying the bitterness of an experience and receive the betterness of the work it produced. To appreciate what an encounter taught us without needing to hold onto the per...

  Out of the Eater, Something to Eat Is Availa ble Now There are stories we tell because they happened. Then there are stories we tell because, years later, we finally understand what happened. Out of the Eater, Something to Eat is that kind of story. When I was eighteen years old, a photograph was taken during booking. At the time, it was nothing more than another moment in what I believed was the end of my life. I had no idea that one day it would become the cover of a memoir. This isn't simply a story about prison. It isn't simply a story about mistakes, consequences, or survival. It's a story about hindsight—about looking back and recognizing what I couldn't see while I was living it. The title comes from Samson's riddle: "Out of the eater came something to eat." Sometimes the very things that seem determined to consume us become the place from which life, wisdom, and hope emerge. But something unexpected happened while I was writing this book. I thou...

I was talking to my mom some time ago about what I called the privilege of being second . I don't remember exactly when we had the conversation, but the thought has stayed with me. There are areas of my life where, if I compared myself to other people, I could easily feel behind. I've watched people become homeowners. I've watched people build businesses. I've watched people get married, raise families, establish careers, and experience things I desire for my own life. There was a time when looking at those things could have produced embarrassment or shame. Why am I not there yet? Why hasn't this happened for me? How much further along would I be if things had gone differently? But somewhere along the way, I began seeing my position differently. I began recognizing the privilege of being second . Being second means I've gotten to see. I've gotten to watch people have and do some of the things I desire. I've gotten to see what worked and what didn't. ...

I was thinking recently about the purpose of laws. Whether we are talking about the law of the land or the law we encounter in Scripture, there is something about law that is rooted in deterrence. A law establishes a boundary and attaches consequences to crossing it. In that sense, law says, Don't do this. And deterrence has its place. Paul writes in Romans 13 that rulers are not a terror to good works, but to evil. First Timothy 1:9 tells us that the law is not made for a righteous man, but for the lawless and disobedient. Law can restrain behavior. The possibility of punishment can cause someone to reconsider an action they might otherwise take. But restraint is not transformation. I know this from experience. I spent nearly twelve years in prison. There were plenty of things I didn't do while I was incarcerated simply because I couldn't do them. My environment restrained my behavior. But when I was released, the riotous living began. The restraint had been removed, and w...