Most readers breeze past the list of David’s mighty men in 2 Samuel 23—but this time, I didn’t. There’s something compelling about the way names without backstories still make the cut. It made me wonder what it means to be remembered, even briefly, in a story that usually centers on kings.

When you’re suffering, sometimes the silence from your friends can be louder than the pain itself. Psalms 38 and 41 don’t sugarcoat that—they talk openly about abandonment and betrayal in times of need. This reflection explores why people pull away when things get hard, and what that says about us.

What if the most human thing in the world is simply wanting to be heard? In these psalms, the writer doesn’t ask for answers—just attention. This post explores the universal need for recognition through the lens of ancient poetry that still sounds familiar today.

What do we do when it feels like no one is listening—especially when we need to be heard the most? Psalm 28 begins with a cry into the silence, and it doesn’t rush to resolution. This post reflects on that tension, the ache of being unheard, and the small human hope that someone, somewhere, is paying attention.

What if being wrong wasn’t a failure but a turning point? In Psalms 32 and 51, the ancient writers don’t hide their guilt—they lean into it, and somehow find relief. This post explores how admitting fault can be unexpectedly freeing, even without a spiritual framework.

Psalm 70 is short but intense, looping through the same urgent plea for help. Instead of offering resolution, it circles back to its opening cry—like a spiritual version of hitting “repeat” on a desperate voicemail. This blog explores how repetition in ancient texts can mirror our own modern need to hold on when things feel uncertain.

A young king listens to bad advice, and what starts as a condolence visit spirals into war. In 2 Samuel 10 and 1 Chronicles 19, we watch how fear and suspicion—fueled by unnamed advisors—reshape history. This post explores the ripple effects of influence, and how the voices we trust can steer far more than just our thoughts.

These four psalms don’t comfort—they confront. From empty rituals to national defeat, they push back on human assumptions about goodness, control, and power. Reading them side by side reveals a shared message: we’re not as righteous—or as in charge—as we think.

Psalm 39 captures the emotional tension of staying silent when everything inside is burning to be said. It’s a raw moment of self-restraint, reflection, and the desire to make sense of life’s fleeting nature. This psalm doesn’t resolve anything neatly—but it does put words to a very human experience.

Psalm 101 isn’t just ancient poetry—it reads like a leadership checklist with sharp edges. From private integrity to public accountability, it maps out one man’s ideal for ethical rule. But it also raises tough questions about control, discipline, and the blurry line between values and enforcement.

Psalms 15 and 24 ask a surprisingly pointed question: who gets to stand in sacred spaces? The answers focus not on rituals or beliefs, but on ethical character—truthfulness, integrity, and consistency. This post explores those ancient checklists and what they might mean for anyone curious about what makes a life “worthy” today.

Psalm 106 reads like a greatest hits album of collective missteps—and still, it’s part of the prayerbook. Why preserve the bad parts of a story? This blog explores how remembering the messy moments might be more meaningful than we think.

Psalm 133 paints a beautiful picture of unity, but reading it today raised more questions than answers. Why is something so “good and pleasant” often so hard to maintain? This reflection explores the effort behind harmony and why it might just be worth it.

Psalm 104 takes readers on a vivid journey through the natural world, from mountain peaks to ocean depths. Reflecting on this ancient text today offers a chance to pause and notice the rhythms and mysteries of nature that often slip by unnoticed. What happens when we set aside explanations and simply observe the world as it is?

What if rest wasn’t just about taking a break but was actually part of the work itself? Psalm 92 offers a glimpse into a rhythm of rest that feels intentional—rooted in gratitude, reflection, and steady growth. In this post, I explore what that might look like outside a religious setting and how slowing down could be its own kind of productivity.

Why do people who act badly seem to come out ahead? Psalm 73 doesn’t shy away from that question—it leans into the discomfort and confusion before landing somewhere more grounded. This blog follows the psalmist’s emotional spiral and gradual shift in perspective, all through a secular and reflective lens.

Psalm 49 quietly asks a timeless question: what can wealth do in the face of death? This reflection doesn’t condemn success but invites us to rethink where we place our trust. When everything else fades, what truly holds value?

What happens when ancient poetry just...looks up? In Psalms 8 and 19, wonder isn’t a conclusion—it’s a way of noticing the world without needing all the answers. This post explores how awe, curiosity, and open-ended questions can live side by side in the same breath.