April 16, 2026
A Journey You Must Own!
Most journeys require preparation. Nobody plans a real trip without thinking ahead, packing what they need, and deciding where they are going. Yet a lot of people try to approach God with no preparation at all, as if the spiritual life is something you fall into by accident, or something another person can do on your behalf.
I have come to see it differently.
Most of us understand, at least intellectually, that a relationship doesn’t thrive on autopilot. Friendships weaken when we stop showing up. Marriages drift when we assume love will take care of itself. Even our health fades when we treat it like something we can ignore until it breaks. Yet for some reason, many people approach their relationship with God as if it should be the one area of life that grows without intention, as if showing up occasionally is the same as being connected.
I don’t believe that’s how the spiritual life works.
The first time you’re called “the manager,” it feels good for about ten minutes.
Then reality shows up.
Now you’re responsible for results, people are watching what you do, and half the time you’re not sure whether you’re supposed to be firm, friendly, hands-on, hands-off, or all of the above.
If that’s where you are, here are five mistakes that new managers make all the time—and how to avoid stepping into them.
Rumi is among the most widely read spiritual poets in the world. Some people hesitate because he wrote from within the Sufi tradition of Islam. I understand that hesitation. But spiritual poetry isn’t a denominational contract. It’s a mirror.
If we insist that wisdom can only come from inside our own camp, we shrink our world down to the size of our tribe. But if we learn to read spiritual poetry for human meaning instead of religious ownership, something opens up. A line can be true without being a creed. A metaphor can be healing without becoming doctrine. And a writer can point toward the light even if their vocabulary differs from ours.
One more honest note: Rumi’s words reach us through translations, and translators make choices. So I don’t treat every line like a legal document. I treat them like invitations—open the heart, engage the mind, keep your discernment turned on.
When the Tribe Becomes the Divide
By Larry G. Patten
(Adapted from reflections in 21st Century Tribal Boundaries)
The first tribes were formed out of necessity.
Long before governments, cities, or digital networks, there were fires in the dark—small circles of people huddled close for one simple reason: survival. Alone, early humans were exposed to hunger, cold, predators, and the unknown. Together, they had a chance. The tribe meant food shared, danger spotted early, children protected, wounds tended. It was practical. It was life.