What to Expect Here

This space starts with one stubborn conviction:

The Bible is true. My camp is not.

I’m not here to market a denomination, protect a system, or polish my favorite teachers. I’m here to let Scripture speak—even when that means tearing down the very slogans and safety blankets I grew up with.

So here’s what you can expect:

1 · I Assume Scripture Is Coherent — I Don’t Assume We Are

I begin with this presupposition:

God’s Word does not contradict itself. Our interpretations do.

That means:

• When verses clash with my theology, my theology moves, not the verses.
• I will not throw away “hard” texts to protect a comforting system.
• I’m willing to say, “My denomination gets this wrong,” and adjust accordingly. And I have.

If you’re looking for someone to rubber-stamp your tradition, this will frustrate you.

2 · I Don’t Only Challenge Skeptics — I Challenge Churchy Half-Truths

Most of what I write is not aimed at atheism or skepticism; it’s aimed at:

• Weaponized grace that excuses ongoing sin.
• Positional-only gospels that never demand practical holiness.
• Timeline traditions (like a rigid Good Friday scheme) that override the text.
• Dead works that look impressive while the heart stays enslaved.

I will quote the same verses you love—then refuse to let them be used against the rest of Scripture.

3 · I Distinguish Between Comfort and Complicity

Experience has taught me that the very passages God gave to steady a believer’s heart often feel like a threat to the average church-going conscience.

One evening, standing in a family member’s kitchen, I was simply reading through some of these texts and asking the obvious questions they raise about salvation, dead works, and dead faith. The conversation grew so tense that I was asked to leave mid-discussion. I honored the request, said my goodbyes, and drove away shaking and in tears—not because of conflict, but because it was painfully clear that what God gave for assurance felt like condemnation.

That moment cemented something for me: when the plain words of Scripture terrify us instead of anchor us, something is badly off—not with the text, but with the story we’ve told ourselves about our faith.

I am not trying to steal assurance from those who are genuinely walking in the light.

I am trying to:

• unsettle those who use “grace” as a fig leaf for ongoing disobedience,
• expose dead works that coexist happily with pornography, bitterness, and secret sin,
• and let passages like 1 Corinthians 6, Galatians 5, 1 John, Hebrews 10, and Matthew 7
  say exactly what they say, without sanding them down.

If our faith is real, these warnings will drive us toward Christ, not away from Him.
If our faith is imaginary, I pray they shatter the illusion before judgment does.

4 · I Treat Presuppositions Honestly

I’m upfront about my starting point:

Without the God revealed in Scripture, I don’t see any solid foundation for trusting our reason, our science, or our morality.

At the same time:

• I don’t ask you to treat my denomination as that foundation.
• I actively invite Scripture to correct my camp and yours.
• I want the text to win, even when it means my team “loses.”

5 · This Will Be Mercifully Brutal

If you keep reading, expect:

• your favorite comforting phrases to be tested against hard passages,
• your “changed life” to be weighed against the transformation Scripture actually describes,
• your view of grace to be pressed until it either breaks under sin or breaks sin’s grip.

The tone may feel sharp at times, but the goal is mercy:

Better a sword that cuts out the cancer
than a lullaby that rocks us to sleep in our sickness.

Or as the Scriptures say:

“Faithful are the wounds of a friend.” (Proverbs 27:6)

If you’re hungry for truth above comfort,
and willing to let the Bible correct you and your tribe,
you’re in the right place.