Founder, 99:1 Ministries, author, retired public school teacher, coach, husband, father, friend. follower of Jesus - learning sonship and in so doing, share it!
Four hundred million people have this image on their phone, a mug, or a T-shirt.
Almost none of them have noticed what's wrong with Adam's hand.
Look at the two arms.
God is horizontal. Launched. Every tendon in His arm at full stretch, hair and mantle blown back by His own speed, angels straining under the weight of carrying Him because He is the one moving. He has crossed the entire sky to get to this moment. His finger is extended as far as a finger goes.
Now Adam.
Draped on a hillside. Propped on one elbow. Leaning back. His arm isn't reaching; it's resting on his own knee. The wrist is slack. The finger droops.
The Creator of the universe is straining like a man reaching for someone going over a cliff.
And the man can't be bothered to straighten one finger.
Michelangelo painted that on purpose. And he painted it in agony, four years on scaffolding under that ceiling, head cranked back, paint dripping into his beard. He hated it enough to write a poem about it, complaining that his spine had bent like a bow and he could no longer read a letter without holding it above his head.
Four years of that. To say one thing:
You did not climb to God. God dove to you.
Every religion on earth is a ladder. Purify yourself, discipline yourself, ascend. Michelangelo put the opposite on the ceiling of the most important church in the world: man reclining, barely participating, and God closing the distance at speed.
Genesis 2:7. And the LORD God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul.
God breathed. Adam received. That's the whole transaction. Adam contributed the dust.
Now look under God's left arm.
There's a woman tucked against His side. His arm is wrapped around her. And she isn't watching the miracle; she's looking past God's shoulder, straight at Adam.
The oldest reading says that's Eve.
Not yet created. Not yet formed. Already held. Already watching the man she'll be given to, from inside the embrace of God, because she existed in His mind before she existed in the world.
Jeremiah 1:5. Before I formed thee in the belly I knew thee.
Ephesians 1:4. He hath chosen us in him before the foundation of the world.
You were in that mantle once before your parents met, before anything.
And about that mantle, in 1990, a physician named Frank Meshberger was studying the fresco and published something that made art historians sit down. Trace the outline of the crimson cloak, the angels, the whole swirling mass around God.
It matches a cross-section of the human brain. The fissures. The lobes. The stem.
Michelangelo dissected corpses. He knew human anatomy better than most surgeons of his century. Whether he hid it there deliberately is argued to this day, but if he did, the sermon is staggering: God isn't just handing Adam a heartbeat. He's giving him a mind. The image of God. The capacity to know his Maker.
So God has crossed the sky. Arm at full extension. Nothing left to give. He has closed all the distance that can be closed from His side.
And the fingers don't touch.
Michelangelo froze them apart forever. A half-inch of empty plaster carrying more weight than the rest of the ceiling combined.
Because look whose finger has slack left in it.
Not God's.
Adam could close that gap by straightening one knuckle. One. The remaining distance is his, the smallest movement in the painting, and the only one God will not make for him.
That half-inch is free will. God will cross a universe. He will not cross your consent.
But here's what the ceiling can't show you, because it happened fifteen centuries after Genesis and Michelangelo painted the before.
The touch happens.
God's hand and human flesh finally meet not above the clouds, but in Bethlehem, when the hand that flung the stars became a hand small enough to grab Mary's finger. God stopped reaching across the gap and stepped into it. Took a body. Took a hand.
And when that hand was finally stretched out as far as human arms go, extended like the arm on the ceiling, full reach, nothing held back.
We nailed it there.
That's where the two fingers meet. At the cross. God at full stretch and man at his worst, touching at last through an iron spike.
And three days later that hand was moving again. Folding grave clothes. Cooking breakfast. Offering its scars to a doubter.
It's still extended. The ceiling is still true. He has done all the reaching, crossed all the sky, closed all the distance that love can close without your permission.
The last half-inch has always been yours.
Lift your hand.
Please tuck this list of scriptures somewhere accessible. The next time you are afraid and don’t know what to do please read these scriptures out loud. God bless you.
1. Psalm 32:8 - "I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you with My loving eye on you."
2. Isaiah 30:21 - "Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, “This is the way; walk in it.”
3. Psalm 37:23-24 - "The Lord makes firm the steps of the one who delights in Him; though he may stumble, he will not fall, for the Lord upholds him with His hand."
4. Isaiah 41:10 - “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand."
5. Romans 8:28 - “ And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose."
6. Psalm 46:1 - "God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble."
7. Isaiah 26:3 - “You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in You."
8. John 14:27 - "Peace I leave with you; My peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid."
9. Genesis 28:15 - "I am with you and will watch over you wherever you go, and I will bring you back to this land. I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.”
10. Exodus 14:14 - "The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.”
11. Psalm 34:17 - “The righteous cry out, and the Lord hears them; He delivers them from all their troubles."
12. Proverbs 3:5-6 - “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to Him, and He will make your paths straight."
13. Lamentations 3:25 - “The Lord is good to those whose hope is in Him, to the one who seeks Him;…"
14. I Peter 5:7 - “ Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you."
15. Psalm 94:19 - “ When anxiety was great within me, Your consolation brought me joy."
May God’s peace and comfort keep you and strengthen you.
Peace and be prepared.
God gave Adam a job before He gave him a wife.
Most men have never sat with that.
Before there was romance, there was responsibility.
Before there was “my person,” there was a garden to work and guard.
And a lot of what you call “overwhelmed” is just you living out of order.
We live in a culture that tells men:
“You’re doing too much.
Slow down.
Protect your mental health.
Lower your standards.
Do less.”
But when God made the first man, He did the opposite.
He placed him.
He gave him work.
He gave him His Word.
He drew a boundary.
Only then did He give him a woman.
Work → Word → Woman.
That’s Eden’s order.
We flipped it to:
Woman → Feelings → Chaos.
And we call the fallout “being overwhelmed.”
Look at most “overwhelmed” men:
Their actual, God-given assignments are neglected:
– Bible closed
– Children undiscipled
– Wife uncovered spiritually
– Home unguarded
Meanwhile, their time and energy are bleeding out into:
– A boss’s demands God never gave them
– Their wife’s unhealed baggage they’re trying to fix by themselves
– Secret sins they refuse to kill
– A phone that barks orders at them from sunrise to midnight
Of course you’re overwhelmed.
You’re carrying everything except what you were built to carry.
Adam’s job wasn’t just “gardening.”
“Dress and keep” means:
Work it. Guard it.
The garden was his post.
The Word was his weapon.
The woman was his partner and mission field in that work.
And he blew it.
He let the serpent stroll right into his post.
He let another voice rewrite God’s Word in his wife’s ears.
He stood there and watched.
That’s what a lot of men are doing now:
Overscheduled but underobedient.
Busy but unassigned.
Surrounded by noise while the snake disciples their family.
Jesus doesn’t look at that and prescribe “self-care.”
He talks about yokes.
“Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden…
Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me…”
He doesn’t say, “I’ll take all yokes off your neck.”
He says, “Trade the one you built out of fear and pride for Mine.”
Your problem isn’t that you have a yoke.
Your problem is:
– Who put it on you
– What it’s made of
– Where it’s dragging you
If you’re “overwhelmed,” start here:
Not “How can I do less?”
But: “What did God actually tell me to carry?”
✔ Name your post: husband, father, worker, churchman. That’s your garden.
✔ Drop three things God never told you to carry. Let something fall.
✔ Hear the Word before you hear the world. Bible before phone.
✔ Load yourself with real work that matters for your family, not fake urgency.
✔ Guard the gate. Decide what comes into your home through screens and people.
You will still feel weight.
Good.
You were made for it.
But it’ll be clean weight now.
God’s weight.
The kind that builds spiritual muscle instead of snapping your neck at random.
You’re not overwhelmed because God gave you too much to do.
You’re overwhelmed because you’ve let everyone and everything but God decide what you do and why.
God gave Adam a job before He gave him a wife.
Get the order right, and a lot of your “overwhelm” will die before it even hits your chest.
A quick guide to every major Old Testament prophet, who they preached to, and when they lived. God raised up voice after voice across centuries to call His people back each time they went astray. Which prophet’s story or ministry impacts you the most?
Your son is watching you die.
Not physically.
Spiritually.
He's watching you choose comfort over crucifixion every single day.
And he's taking notes.
You think you're raising him right because you take him to church. Don't beat him. Say grace before dinner.
But you're teaching him that God rewards men who play it safe.
That masculinity is having opinions you never act on.
That faith is something you feel on Sundays and forget by Monday.
He sees through it.
Kids always do.
They smell the fear on you.
The way you won't confront your boss even when he's wrong.
The way you let your wife manage you because it's easier than leading her.
The way you pray about everything and fight for nothing.
You're showing him how to lose with religious vocabulary.
Here's what I learned raising boys—
They don't need another friend. They've got those.
They need a father who bleeds.
Who builds.
Who looks God in the face and says "I'll go" even when it costs everything.
Your son doesn't need your comfort.
He needs your scars.
But you won't give them to him.
Because you don't have any.
You've spent your whole life avoiding the cross. Hoping God grades on a curve. Praying that showing up counts as faithfulness.
It doesn't.
The world is coming for your boy.
It wants to castrate him. Medicate him. Teach him that being a man is toxic.
And you're letting it happen.
Because you're too comfortable to fight.
Every day you stay passive is another day he learns that Christian men are conquered people.
Who pray about their surrender.
You have maybe five years before he stops listening.
Before he decides Dad's faith is for weak men who need religion to cope with losing.
Then it's over.
Not because you didn't love him.
Because you loved your comfort more.
Eli was a priest.
A father. A man who had every chance to save his sons.
But he chose peace over confrontation. Comfort over correction.
So God killed them all.
That's not a metaphor.
That's a warning.
You want to know what it takes to raise a son who conquers instead of one who's conquered?
Blood.
Sacrifice.
Building something so dangerous and so biblical that he wants to inherit it.
Not because it's comfortable.
Because it's worth dying for.
Your son doesn't need another sermon.
He needs to see you bleed for what you believe.
He needs to watch you build a kingdom with your bare hands while the world tells you to quit.
He needs to know that following Christ means war.
Not therapy.
But you won't show him that.
Because you're scared.
Scared of losing your job. Scared of conflict. Scared your wife will leave if you actually lead. Scared God's calling costs more than you're willing to pay.
So you stay comfortable.
And your son learns that Christian men don't fight—they cope.
That's how you lose him.
Not to drugs or rebellion or some dramatic fall.
You lose him to a quiet death.
Where he grows up. Gets married. Manages his life.
And wonders why nothing feels real.
Because you never showed him what real looks like.
I'm not here to encourage you.
You don't need encouragement.
You need a mirror.
Look at what you're building.
Look at what your son sees when he watches you.
Is it worth inheriting?
Or is it just another comfortable life that dies with you?
Your move.
-TBM
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I taught an equipping class on transgenderism this morning at church and was able to explain the difference between untethered empathy and biblical sympathy.
I Hate My Sin… So Why Can’t I Stop?
A Devotional for the Sinner Who Still Falls
The fall happened fast.
One step off the gravel, and the edge of the path gave way beneath your foot. You weren’t sprinting. You weren’t even careless. You were just walking along, trying to get home before dark. Then it came…the jolt, the stumble, the splash.
The mud wrapped around your leg like shame wearing skin. Cold. Slick. Unwelcome.
You rose slowly, wiped your hands, looked around. No one saw.
But the Light saw.
And you saw what the Light saw.
And that’s what undid you.
You didn’t plan to sin today. You prayed this morning. You opened the Word. You were doing better.
But here you are again. Stuck in the very thing you thought you’d left behind.
Why?
Why, after all this time walking with Christ, do you still sin like this?
Why, when you’ve come so far, does it still feel like you’re crawling through the same dirt?
That question doesn’t rise from indifference. It rises from nearness.
You don’t see the mud when you’re far from the lamp. But get close to the light, and everything changes. The specks on your skin become blotches. The soil beneath your fingernails becomes unbearable. You wipe harder, but it only spreads.
People far from God think they’re clean. People near to Him know they aren’t.
That ache you feel in your chest, that slow, sick recognition that you’re still at war with the same sins, isn’t necessarily backsliding. It’s awakening.
You’re not growing colder. You’re standing under the lamp.
You’ve walked in darkness before. You remember those nights. The guilt didn’t bother you then. The conscience stayed quiet. You barely flinched.
But something changed.
You started hating the sin that used to thrill you.
And the hatred didn’t always come with victory. Sometimes it came with failure so bitter it made you question everything.
Here’s what no one told you: the war is the proof.
You feel the filth because the Light is on.
I read once of a village buried deep in the Ozark countryside. It had a single streetlamp. Just one. The road to that place was cracked, narrow, full of pits. But if you made it near the light, the mud on your clothes showed itself. All of it.
There are days when you feel the filth most clearly. The words you said. The thoughts that poisoned the quiet. The lie that slipped through your teeth. The pride that dressed itself in religious clothing.
You didn’t even see it as it was happening.
But the closer you walked to the streetlamp, the more it glared back at you from your reflection in the puddle.
You wonder what to do with this.
You say to yourself, “I’ll clean up. I’ll climb higher. I’ll be better.”
You stack a list of remedies.
Pray harder.
Read more.
Fast longer.
Serve better.
Repent deeper.
Then maybe, just maybe, you’ll climb high enough to be free.
But what if the blessings you’re chasing don’t wait at the peak?
What if they pool in the valley?
What if the fire of grace burns in the low place?
Years ago, I met a man who’d walked with Jesus longer than I’d been alive. I asked him how to grow. His eyes were tired and kind.
He said, “You want to go up. But God meets you going down.”
I didn’t understand at the time. I do now.
Jesus does not meet us in our successes. He meets us in our need.
You think you’ve failed. You think God’s waiting for you to climb out of your slump. But He came all the way down. He didn’t stretch out a ladder. He came into the pit.
He did not wait on the mountain. He was born in a barn.
He did not sit in the temple. He walked into the leper colonies.
He did not dine in palaces. He knelt in gardens, sweating blood into the dirt.
He does not wait for you to come up.
He finds you curled up in the valley.
So stop pretending.
You are a sinner. Say it.
Own the sin. Name it in prayer. Do not hide. Do not coat it in religious language. The Spirit is not allergic to honesty.
You think pretending will protect you, but all it does is starve you of help. The man who hides the infection keeps himself from the cure.
You do not impress God by dressing up your repentance.
Come raw.
Come muddy.
Come like a child who tripped in the street and stands on the porch, hoping for a hug instead of a rebuke.
You ask, “Should I stop trying?”
No.
But don’t treat the trying as the goal.
You are not saved by effort. You are saved by Christ.
And the One who saves you meets you where you have no strength left to walk.
Think of the body chilled from the cold. You don’t cure hypothermia by sprinting. You find a fire.
Sit near the heat.
Open the Word and not to earn favor, but to warm your soul.
Pray…not to perform, but to hear your Father’s voice again.
Listen…not for guilt, but for grace.
Stop counting the things you’ve failed to do, and look up.
Look at the One who took every last sin from your record and nailed it to wood.
You ask, “But shouldn’t I feel better by now?”
Sometimes.
But other times, you’ll feel worse before you feel clean.
That’s the nature of Light.
It doesn’t flatter.
It exposes. It burns. It bleaches. And then, slowly, it heals.
The Light is not ashamed of what it sees on you. He already knew.
And still He came.
He came knowing the filth.
He came knowing the fight.
He came knowing this would take your whole life.
And He said, “Mine.”
You’re not held by your devotion. You’re held by His scars.
You’re not clean because you’ve climbed.
You’re clean because the Light stooped low and washed you.
With His blood. With His righteousness. With His own tears.
So rise, weary one.
The fire still burns.
The Light still shines.
And when you see the dirt on your soul again tomorrow, do not look down.
Look into His face.
You will not find disgust.
You will not find distance.
You will find the eyes of a Savior who walked your muddy road, fell to His knees at Calvary, and now stands with arms open, calling you home.
Come. And keep coming.
The lamp is lit.
The valley is wide.
And grace is warm.
Judas Iscariot walked with Jesus for three years.
He heard every sermon. Witnessed every miracle. Ate at the same table.
And went to hell anyway.
Most Christians today are modern Judas Christians.
Here's how to know if you're one of them:
Judas had perfect theology.
He could quote Scripture. He knew Jesus was the Messiah.
But knowledge didn't save him.
Proximity didn't save him.
Religious activity didn't save him.
Only surrender saves.
Judas's fatal mistake wasn't betrayal. That was just the symptom.
His fatal mistake was keeping Jesus at arm's length while using Him for personal gain.
Sound familiar?
Modern Judas Christians:
*Consume sermons but never repent
*Use Jesus as life coach, not Lord
*Want Heaven without holiness
*Follow Jesus for benefits, not worship
*Keep one foot in the Kingdom, one in the world
They pray when convenient.
Read when motivated.
Obey when comfortable.
Surrender when forced.
But they never BOW.
Jesus didn't die so you could improve your life.
He died so He could OWN your life.
Big difference.
Judas called Jesus "Rabbi" (teacher).
Peter called Him "Lord" (master).
Judas kept his autonomy.
Peter surrendered it.
One went to hell.
One went to Heaven.
What do you call Him?
You can walk with Jesus your whole life and never KNOW Him.
"Not everyone who says to Me, 'Lord, Lord,' will enter the kingdom of heaven." - Matthew 7:21
Stop being a Judas Christian.
Stop using Jesus.
Start surrendering to Him.
Your eternity depends on which side of that line you're on.
—TBM
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