Muddy River Problems
I’ve been thinking about how a swollen river can look perfectly normal.
But all the while carrying debris that it never used to.
Same direction.
Same reflection.
Same surface.
But underneath
someone else’s junk
someone else’s fight
someone else’s agenda
moving right through the middle of it
just below the surface.
The river looks fine.
The contents are doing damage.
That feels familiar.
Especially when faith and politics start flowing together
and we act like it’s harmless.
When Christian conviction quietly turns into political loyalty.
When we talk more about elections than eternity
and call it standing firm.
Christians should care.
Christians should engage.
Christians should vote.
That part’s easy.
Participation isn’t the problem.
Identity is.
Because once politics becomes the lens,
the gospel starts reading like opinion.
And once who we vote for becomes who we are,
the Spirit strangely stops correcting us
and starts agreeing with us.
That should make us uncomfortable.
Jesus never built His work on that kind of current.
Instead, He gathered a tax collector and a zealot.
People who wanted each other gone.
He added fishermen.
A skeptic.
A doubter.
Even a double-crosser.
That group wouldn’t have found each other on purpose.
They walked into His presence divided
and walked out with one identity.
Not because they aligned politically.
But because something deeper displaced everything else.
That steadies me.
It reminds me there’s a kingdom that stays intact
even when the water gets muddy.
That faith isn’t shaped by tribes, flags, or slogans
but by allegiance to a voice that refuses to be drafted.
I don’t fear the culture.
I just don’t drink from the water running through it.
Because I want a clean river in my soul.
Not filtered by outrage.
Not colored by loyalty tests.
Not carrying debris I didn’t choose.
When God becomes the focus,
the water settles.
The current clears.
And what doesn’t belong
passes through without taking root.
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Well said