There were moments I thought I would never finish this story. Not because I ran out of words. Because life kept happening while I was trying to understand it.

For forty years, pathology shaped the rhythm of my days. Slides. Diagnoses. Conferences. Phones ringing during dinner. Late-night sign-outs. Building a laboratory. Losing one. Training residents. Earning trust. Carrying pressure that rarely stayed at work when the day ended.

Somewhere along the way, the work stopped being something I did. It became part of who I was. That realization became Pushing Glass.

What began as a story about medicine slowly became something else. A story about ambition. Marriage. Identity. Success. Exhaustion. Fear. Pride. Grace. And the quiet question that eventually confronts almost everyone:

What happens when the work becomes your life?

The trilogy follows James Deetan across four decades of medicine and life — beginning as a Chinese Filipino foreign medical graduate arriving in St. Louis for pathology residency, entering America for the very first time, and eventually continuing through fellowship, private practice, marriage, family, academic medicine, success, burnout, transition, and retirement in Los Angeles.

But beneath the microscopes and pathology slides, Pushing Glass was never really about medicine alone.

It was about seeing.

Seeing others clearly.
Seeing ourselves honestly.
And eventually realizing how much of life can pass by while we are busy trying to hold everything together.

The Trilogy

Book 1

St. Louis.

The first year of pathology residency.

James arrives in America for the first time as a Chinese Filipino foreign medical graduate carrying both gratitude and insecurity. Everything feels unfamiliar — the hospitals, the culture, the expectations, the isolation. Long nights. New responsibility. Constant pressure to prove he belongs. Medicine is no longer theoretical. Every diagnosis suddenly matters.

Book 2

Still in St. Louis.

The remaining two years of residency.

Friendships deepen. Relationships become more complicated. The institutional machinery of medicine becomes clearer. James slowly learns that survival in medicine requires more than intelligence alone. Questions about identity, calling, success, loneliness, and sacrifice quietly emerge beneath the surface of training.

Book 3

Los Angeles.

Fellowship. Private practice. Marriage. Family. Building a laboratory. Academic medicine. Ambition. Burnout. Success. Loss. Reflection.

The longest and most personal part of the story follows James through decades of work and life as he slowly discovers that achievement alone cannot carry the weight of a human soul.

Finishing this trilogy feels strange. For years, these characters quietly traveled beside me. Some moments were fictionalized. Others were painfully close to real life. Many were shaped by experiences accumulated over decades inside hospitals, laboratories, conference rooms, classrooms, and conversations most people never see.

But over time, I realized the deeper story was not happening under the microscope. It was happening inside the people looking through it. In many ways, Pushing Glass became my attempt to understand the tension between usefulness and identity. Between accomplishment and peace. Between striving and surrender.

And ultimately, the story led me back to something much simpler.And ultimately, the story led me back to something much simpler.

What does it profit a man to gain the whole world, and forfeit his soul?
Mark 8:36 (ESV)

The work matters. Excellence matters. Service matters. But none of those things were ever meant to replace the deeper things God gives us: faith, family, grace, love, and the quiet mercy of being known beyond what we produce.

The Pushing Glass Trilogy is now complete. All three books, including full chapter tables of contents, are now available on The Bereans Blog.

Thank you to everyone who has read, encouraged, commented, prayed, or simply walked beside me through these years. I spent forty years pushing glass.

But maybe the real story was what God was doing on the other side of it all along.

— Paul K. Shitabata, M.D.

Love and trust the Lord; seek His will in your life.

https://youtube.com/shorts/TiJT3E7RVNA

In this age of social media, it is easy to surround ourselves with voices that simply echo what we already believe.

“You are absolutely right! We need to get the message out!”

“Why can’t the other side see this? They are delusional!”

I was reading comments on a social media site recently. Nearly every post agreed with the views of the vlogger. Any dissenting opinion was pounced upon as heretical. It was an echo chamber, depending upon which side of the fence one was standing. Wonderful if you want to associate with like-minded individuals. Terrible if you genuinely desire a balanced perspective.

In our age, our opinions, fears, interests, and preferences are constantly analyzed by algorithms. Those algorithms quietly guide us toward influencers, news sources, and communities that reinforce what we already think. Over time, it becomes easier and easier to believe that our side is obviously correct and anyone who disagrees must be foolish, dishonest, or blind.

But some of us still desire to hear the Truth, even when it is uncomfortable.

Thousands of years earlier, the kings of Israel and Judah were considering whether they should go to battle against a common enemy. The prophets surrounding them formed their own echo chamber. They told the kings exactly what they wanted to hear: they should go up to battle and victory would surely be theirs.

But Jehoshaphat sensed something was missing.

And the king of Israel said to Jehoshaphat, “There is yet one man by whom we may inquire of the LORD, Micaiah the son of Imlah, but I hate him, for he never prophesies good concerning me, but evil.” And Jehoshaphat said, “Let not the king say so.”
1 Kings 22:8 (ESV)

That verse is striking.

“I hate him, for he never prophesies good concerning me.”

Ahab did not hate Micaiah because he was false. He hated him because he spoke truth that contradicted what Ahab wanted to hear.

Human nature has not changed very much.

We still gravitate toward voices that affirm us. We still resist correction. We still prefer prophets who soothe us rather than confront us. Sometimes we even judge truthfulness by whether or not a message makes us feel comfortable.

The danger of an echo chamber is not merely political or cultural. It is spiritual.

If we only listen to voices that reinforce our opinions, eventually we may stop listening for the voice of God altogether.

Scripture often wounds before it heals. The prophets, the apostles, and even Jesus Himself frequently said things people did not want to hear. Truth has never been determined by popularity. In fact, throughout history, the majority has often been wrong.

For wide is the gate and broad is the way that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many.
Matthew 7:13 (ESV)

It takes humility to ask: What if I am wrong? What if I have confused comfort with truth? What if I only listen to voices that flatter my assumptions?

Ahab wanted approval.
Jehoshaphat wanted truth.

Those are not always the same thing.

As Christians, we should not seek echo chambers. We should seek Christ. And sometimes following Him means listening carefully even when the message confronts our pride, challenges our tribe, or unsettles our assumptions.

Because the most dangerous deception is not hearing lies from others.

It is only hearing ourselves.

Love and trust in the Lord; seek His will in your life.

#faith #trustinggod #christianity #jesuschrist #bible #seekinggodswill #truth #sanctification #godisincontrol #godhearsourprayers #salvation #providenceofGod #echochamber #1Kings 22:8

https://youtube.com/shorts/9YQe41E8ADg

I watched the water circle the drain in a clockwise direction and suddenly remembered something my grade school science teacher once told me. “In the Southern Hemisphere,” she said, “the water turns the opposite way.”

She explained something called the Coriolis effect—a force created by the Earth’s rotation that influences storms, wind patterns, ocean currents, and even the movement of airplanes across the globe. At the time, it was simply another classroom fact. Something to memorize for a test. But more than forty years later, while visiting Australia, I finally saw it for myself. The water really did turn the other way.

Counterclockwise.

For a brief moment, I just stood there staring at the drain like a little kid rediscovering wonder. The Earth had always been rotating. The force had always been there. I simply had not personally witnessed it yet.

And strangely enough, it reminded me of faith.

For we walk by faith, not by sight.
2 Corinthians 5:7 (ESV)

Much of life is shaped by realities we cannot immediately see. Gravity. Wind. Radiation. Love. Truth. Time. And God. The absence of visibility is not the absence of reality. For most of my life, I understood the Coriolis effect intellectually. I trusted the explanation before I ever experienced it personally. But standing there in Australia, what I had believed for decades suddenly became real in a deeper way.

I think the Christian life often unfolds the same way. There are seasons where Scripture feels theoretical. Where prayer feels unanswered. Where God seems silent. Where His providence is something we affirm more than something we feel. Then one day, often years later, we suddenly recognize His hand had been moving the entire time. A closed door protected us. A hardship redirected us. A delay matured us. A suffering softened us. A prayer was answered differently—and better—than we imagined.

The unseen hand was always there. We just could not fully see the pattern yet. I suspect that is part of why God allows us to live by faith. If we immediately saw every reason, every outcome, every protection, every spiritual reality surrounding us, trust would no longer really be trust. It would simply be observation.

Instead, we live much of life like children in a classroom hearing truths we only partly understand. We memorize verses before we experience them. We quote promises before we fully appreciate their depth. We speak about grace, sovereignty, suffering, forgiveness, and eternity long before life forces us to lean upon them completely.

Then the years pass. And eventually we stand in some unexpected moment—a hospital room, a funeral, a reconciliation, a quiet answered prayer, or even watching water circle a drain halfway around the world—and suddenly realize: It was true all along. Not because we finally proved God. But because we finally saw a little more clearly what had always been there.

Job understood this after suffering. Joseph understood it after betrayal and prison. The disciples understood it after the Resurrection. And many of us only begin to understand it after enough years have passed to look backward and notice that our lives were never as random as they first appeared. The Earth keeps turning whether we feel it or not. And God keeps working whether we perceive Him or not.

Perhaps faith is not the denial of reality, but the humility to recognize that reality is far larger than what we can presently see.

For now we see through a glass, darkly…
1 Corinthians 13:12 (KJV)

One day we will see clearly.

Until then, we walk by faith.

Love and trust in the Lord; seek His will in your life.

#faith #trustinggod #christianity #jesuschrist #bible #seekinggodswill #truth #sanctification #godisincontrol #godhearsourprayers #salvation #providenceofGod #Corioliseffect #2Corinthians5:7

https://youtube.com/shorts/8Bh5Sp0uT24?feature=share

Now the full number of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one said that any of the things that belonged to him was his own, but they had everything in common. And with great power the apostles were giving their testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great grace was upon them all. There was not a needy person among them, for as many as were owners of lands or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold and laid it at the apostles’ feet, and it was distributed to each as any had need.
Acts 4:32-35 (ESV)

When many people read this passage today, one word immediately comes to mind:

Socialism.

Believers selling property. Money redistributed. “No needy person among them.”

At first glance, it can sound less like a church… and more like an economic system. But is that really what is happening in Acts 4? I do not think so. And the difference matters. The early church was not building a political ideology. It was responding to a spiritual reality. These believers had just witnessed the resurrection of Jesus Christ turn their entire world upside down. Their identities had changed. Their priorities had changed. Even their understanding of ownership had changed.

The text says they were “of one heart and soul.”

That is the key. This was not government coercion. It was transformed affection. Rome did not seize their property. Peter did not command forced redistribution. No taxes were imposed. No apostles confiscated homes. In fact, private ownership still existed.

A few verses later, Peter confronts Ananias in Acts 5:4 and says: “While it remained unsold, did it not remain your own? And after it was sold, was it not at your disposal?”

That verse changes the entire discussion. The property was theirs. The choice was theirs. The giving was voluntary. That is fundamentally different from socialism or communism, where redistribution is enforced externally through the power of the state.

What happened in Acts was internal. The Gospel loosened their grip on possessions because Christ had become more valuable than possessions. And honestly, that may be the more uncomfortable message for modern Christians. Because many of us—including me—can debate economic systems all day while quietly avoiding the deeper question: What actually owns my heart?

The early believers understood something that is easy to forget in wealthy societies: we do not truly own anything permanently. Our houses. Our investments. Our careers. Our accomplishments. Even our health. All of it can disappear faster than we imagine.

The earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof.
Psalm 24:1 (ESV)

Not Caesar’s. Not the market’s. Not mine.

His.

Christianity does not teach forced equality through government power. But neither does it baptize greed, selfishness, or radical individualism. Scripture cuts against both extremes. The Bible protects personal responsibility and stewardship, yet it repeatedly commands generosity, mercy, and sacrificial love toward those in need. The believers in Acts were not worshiping an economic theory. They were worshiping a risen Savior. And when people truly believe Christ gave everything for them, they begin holding their own possessions differently. Not because they are forced to. Because grace changes what they treasure.

Maybe that is the real challenge of Acts 4.

Not: Should society become socialist?
But: Has Christ changed my heart enough that I can open my hands?

That question reaches far deeper than politics.

Love and trust in the Lord; seek His will in your life.

#faith #trustinggod #christianity #jesuschrist #bible #seekinggodswill #truth #sanctification #godisincontrol #godhearsourprayers #salvation #providenceofGod #socialism #Acts4:32-35

https://youtube.com/shorts/eTA9Sg3_3pw?feature=share

I was reading another article about rising gasoline prices and tensions in the Middle East when a question hit me. If the United States is now a net exporter of oil… why are gasoline prices still so high? For years we were told the problem was dependence. Dependence on foreign oil. Dependence on unstable regions. Dependence on shipping lanes like the Strait of Hormuz. So now that America produces enormous amounts of its own energy, shouldn’t we feel secure? Shouldn’t prices be lower? Shouldn’t fear be lower? But they are not. And maybe that says something deeper about us.

The reality is that oil is part of a global market. Even if America produces more oil than before, prices still react to worldwide fear, speculation, shipping concerns, refinery limitations, wars, politics, and market panic. Sometimes prices rise not because supply has disappeared… but because people are afraid it might. Fear itself becomes part of the price. 

And the more I thought about it, the more I realized this is not just an energy problem. It is a human problem. We keep believing that if we finally have enough, we will finally feel secure.

Enough money.
Enough savings.
Enough technology.
Enough military strength.
Enough medicine.
Enough knowledge.
Enough control.

But somehow anxiety survives abundance. We became energy independent… but not fear independent.

Scripture has always warned us about this illusion. Kingdoms trust in armies. Nations trust in wealth. People trust in systems they think will save them. But fear always returns because none of those things were ever designed to carry the weight of ultimate security.

Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the LORD our God.
Psalm 20:7 (ESV)

In modern language, we might say:

Some trust in markets.
Some trust in reserves.
Some trust in economies.
Some trust in power grids.
Some trust in technology.

But eventually every earthly system reminds us of its limits. That does not mean oil is bad. Or wealth is evil. Or preparation is foolish. It simply means those things make terrible gods.

Jesus warned about this in Luke 12 when He described a wealthy man whose fields produced abundantly. The man believed bigger barns would finally bring peace to his soul. But that very night his life was required of him. His problem was not prosperity. It was misplaced trust.

I think that is why fear remains even in prosperous nations. Because the human heart was never designed to find peace in abundance alone. Real peace does not come from having enough stored underground. It comes from knowing the One who holds the earth itself together.

The world keeps asking:
“How much is enough to finally make us safe?”

Scripture asks a different question:
“What are you trusting in?”

Love and trust in the Lord; seek His will in your life.

#faith #trustinggod #christianity #jesuschrist #bible #seekinggodswill #truth #sanctification #godisincontrol #godhearsourprayers #salvation #providenceofGod #energyindependent #Psalms20:7

https://youtube.com/shorts/ReZ2BiR9oe4?feature=share

Of all the genres of art, surrealism has always fascinated me. Not merely because of the strange imagery. Not because of melting clocks, floating figures, distorted landscapes, or impossible juxtapositions. What drew me to it was something deeper — the feeling beneath it all. A sense that reality itself was somehow fractured.

Familiar…yet dislocated.
Beautiful… yet unsettling.
Like standing inside a dream while still awake.

According to the poet and critic André Breton, surrealism sought to unite the conscious and unconscious realms into a higher reality — what he called “surreality.” The movement believed there was something hidden beneath ordinary life, something deeper than logic and rational thought alone could explain.

Oddly enough, that feeling always resonated with me. Not because I rejected reason. Medicine trained me to value reason. Pathology demanded precision. Every diagnosis depended on disciplined observation, evidence, and careful interpretation.

And yet…Even during the busiest years of my career, life sometimes felt strangely unreal. Years passed quickly. Children grew up while I was still trying to finish reports. Patients came and went. Friendships drifted. Buildings that once seemed permanent eventually emptied.

There are moments now in retirement when I look at old photographs, hear an old jazz standard, or walk through places that once defined my life, and I almost feel suspended between worlds. Between memory and reality. Between who I was and who I am becoming.

Sometimes life itself feels surreal. Not irrational. Just incomplete. The older I get, the more I realize the Bible understands this feeling better than surrealism ever could. Scripture teaches that the fracture is not merely psychological. It is spiritual. We were created for perfect fellowship with God, but sin fractured everything: our relationship with Him, with others, and even within ourselves.

The Apostle Paul described this internal division with startling honesty:

For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.
Romans 7:15 (ESV)

That verse has always struck me because it feels painfully human. We know what is right…

yet resist it. We say we trust God…yet panic over tomorrow. We pursue achievement, comfort, distraction, approval —while quietly sensing that something underneath it all remains unresolved.

Surrealism recognized that reality feels broken. But it searched inward for transcendence. The Gospel points upward. Christianity does not simply tell us to reinterpret reality differently. It explains why the fracture exists in the first place. Sin distorted the world. Sin distorted us. We live in a world that still carries echoes of Eden while simultaneously bearing the scars of the Fall. And sometimes, if we are honest, life feels exactly like that. Familiar…yet not fully right. The difference is that the Christian does not remain trapped there. Christ entered this fractured world Himself. Not as an abstract idea. Not as a philosophical exercise. But as Savior.

Jesus does not merely help us escape reality. He restores it. One day, the confusion, fragmentation, fear, loss, regret, and dividedness will finally end. The seen and unseen worlds will no longer feel disconnected. Faith will become sight. Until then, we walk forward trusting Him through the strange, sometimes dreamlike nature of life under the sun.

Love and trust in the Lord; seek His will in your life.

#faith #trustinggod #christianity #jesuschrist #bible #seekinggodswill #truth #sanctification #godisincontrol #godhearsourprayers #salvation #providenceofGod #Surrealism #Romans7:15

https://youtube.com/shorts/qkVqUqcwFzQ?feature=share

A novel by
Paul K. Shitabata, M.D.

A young pathology resident enters the hidden world behind the microscope, discovering that medicine is not only about diagnosis, but about truth, ambition, and the difficult choices that shape a career — and a soul.

Read Chapter 1

Table of Contents

1-A Reluctant Choice

2-Signout

3-Show and Tell

4-Pathology Rounds

5-The Doctor’s Doctor

6-Exile

7-Privileged

8-A Promising Career

9-It Would Have Been So Easy

10-Frozen Section

11-A Patient Is At The Other End

12-A Surefire Plan

13-Morbidity and Mortality

14-Bad Needle Day

15-Face Of The Enemy

16-Condyloma Queen

17-Blood Brothers

18-No Bias

19-Pillow Talk

20-No Excuses

21-Misunderstanding

22-Never Letting Go

23-Invitation

24-Change Of Season-Part 1

25-Change Of Season-Part 2

26-Change Of Season-Part 3

27-Discovery

28-Divided We Fall

29-Quid Pro Quo

30-Unexpected Encounter

31-Thin Walls

32-Gaman

33-Deposition

34-Settlement

35-No One Knows

Epilogue

Read Book 2

My phone flashed a photo of my son’s feet accompanied with this text.

“Can you come to our class? Your son came with two different shoes (both right side)…would you be able to bring the other shoe? No rush. He is showing a great sense of humor about it.”

I laughed at the photo showing my son wearing two right shoes. I quickly retrieved the left shoe and texted, “I’m on my way.”

Dropping off the shoe and taking home the other shoe, the director thanked me. I texted back, “No worries. The alternative woud have been for all the other kids having their parents bring another right shoe…thought this would be easier! LOL!”

It was an amusing morning and put a smile on my face. My son has a great sense of humor and the entire class joined in the revelry. I brought the correct left shoe, but another solution would have been to declare that, “It’s Right Shoe Day!” Then all his classmates could join my son.

Several years ago, people would have simply laughed and corrected the mistake. But now, I couldn’t help thinking how often our culture solves problems differently. Instead of admitting that something doesn’t fit, we redefine normal so that everything fits.

My son accidentally wore two right shoes. The obvious answer was simple: bring the left shoe. But another solution would have been easier emotionally. Just declare, “It’s Right Shoe Day!” Then suddenly nobody is wrong anymore. Everyone just adjusts to the new standard.

Funny in a classroom.

Dangerous in real life.

Isaiah warned about this tendency long ago:

Woe to those who call evil good and good evil, who put darkness for light and light for darkness…
Isaiah 5:20 (ESV)

Sometimes the loving thing is not changing the definition. It is helping someone find the missing shoe. I realized this applies to my own life too. There are times I do not want correction. I want redefinition. I want God to adjust His standards to match my comfort, my desires, or my excuses. That is far easier than repentance. But God does not shame us when we come to Him honestly. He lovingly brings us what is missing.

The remarkable thing about my son’s class was that nobody mocked him. They laughed together. He laughed too. There was grace in the room while the problem was still being corrected. That is often how God deals with us. He does not humiliate His children while helping them walk rightly.

Truth and grace are not enemies.

Jesus was “full of grace and truth” (John 1:14). Not grace without truth. Not truth without grace.

Just as two right shoes eventually make walking difficult, a life built entirely around what feels right to us eventually leaves us limping spiritually.

There is a way that seems right to a man, but its end is the way to death.
Proverbs 14:12 (ESV)

This morning began with laughter, a photo, and a missing shoe. But before the day was over, God reminded me of something deeper:

Sometimes the most loving thing is not creating a “Right Shoe Day.”

Sometimes the most loving thing is bringing the missing left shoe.

Love and trust in the Lord; seek His will in your life.

#faith #trustinggod #christianity #jesuschrist #bible #seekinggodswill #truth #sanctification #godisincontrol #godhearsourprayers #salvation #providenceofGod #rightshoeday #Isaiah5:20

https://youtube.com/shorts/Fqp13BEBUUU?feature=share

I walked through a modern art exhibit recently and kept waiting for something to come together. Canvas after canvas—scattered strokes, fragments that didn’t resolve, shapes that looked like they belonged somewhere else. I read the descriptions beside them, hoping they would help. They didn’t. If anything, they made the confusion feel… intentional. Like I was supposed to see something that just wasn’t there.

Then I turned into another section. Same textures. Same randomness. Same sense that I was missing the point. I looked for the description. Instead, there was a sign:

This is not an artistic piece but an area under construction.

I stopped. Because I couldn’t tell the difference!

My front yard right now… looks like that. I cut down hundreds of weeds and left them where they fell. Dry stalks, tangled branches, no pattern, no design—just what happens when something is started and not finished. When people see it, they don’t hesitate. “You’ve still got a lot of work to do.”

And sometimes I answer like this: “What are you talking about? Do you know how long it took to arrange each branch to achieve this pattern? I spent BIG money to have this design implemented. Post modern art, at its best!”

They laugh. Because it’s obvious. I didn’t design it. I just stopped working on it. That’s the part that stays with me. Not the mess. The explanation. Because there’s a moment—subtle, easy to miss—when something unfinished stops bothering me. Not because it’s been completed. But because I’ve learned how to talk about it. I don’t say, this still needs work. I say something that sounds better. Something that makes it feel intentional. Something that removes the pressure to go back and finish what I started. And after a while… I believe it.

Scripture doesn’t describe this as confusion. It calls it something else.

The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?
Jeremiah 17:9 (ESV)

Not mistaken. Deceitful. There’s a part of me that would rather explain something than change it. And over time, that explanation starts to feel true.

I call what’s unfinished… complete enough.
I call what’s neglected… on hold.
I call what I’ve avoided… not the right time.

Until God says something that cuts through all of it.

Is it a time for you yourselves to dwell in your paneled houses, while this house lies in ruins?
Haggai 1:4 (ESV)

They hadn’t rejected God. They hadn’t abandoned the work completely. They just… didn’t finish it. Life filled in around it. Comfort came back. Other priorities took over. And the thing that mattered most slowly became something they learned how to live without addressing. Not rebellion. Neglect. And neglect is quiet. It doesn’t announce itself. It doesn’t feel urgent. It just waits… while you get used to it being there. Until one day, you’re not working on it anymore. You’re explaining it.

“What are you talking about? Do you know how long it took to arrange each branch…”

It sounds ridiculous when I say it out loud about my yard. But not when I say it about my life. That’s the danger. Not the mess. Not the delay. The story I build around it. And God doesn’t argue with the story. He interrupts it.

“Is it a time…?”

Not: Can you explain this?
Not: Can you justify it?
Just: Why did you stop?

I don’t need a better explanation. I need honesty. Because this isn’t art.

It’s still under construction.

Love and trust in the Lord; seek His will in your life.

#faith #trustinggod #christianity #jesuschrist #bible #seekinggodswill #truth #sanctification #godisincontrol #godhearsourprayers #salvation #providenceofGod #modernart

https://youtube.com/shorts/b4sxJYXvpsk

I thought I was being efficient. Going to the gym felt right. Structured. Disciplined. Easy to measure. But somewhere along the way, a question kept coming back. Do I actually need all of this? So I tried something different. Stayed home. Stripped it down. A few basic movements that covered what I was trying to do anyway. It wasn’t impressive. But it worked.

That’s when I thought about Ockham’s Razor. It’s the idea that when you’re trying to explain something, you shouldn’t add more than you need. If two explanations lead to the same result, the better one is the one with fewer assumptions. Fewer moving parts. Less added on.

It doesn’t mean the simplest explanation is always right. It means don’t build complexity where it isn’t necessary. At first, that’s all this felt like. Simplifying. Then my mind went to a moment in Scripture.
A scribe asked Jesus Christ:

Which commandment is the most important of all?
Mark 12:28 (ESV)

That question mattered. Because the Law wasn’t small. Traditionally, it’s counted at 613 commands. They covered worship, daily life, relationships, purity, sacrifice. Devout Jews studied them, debated them, tried to live them faithfully. But holding all of it together wasn’t simple. What mattered most?

Jesus answered:

The most important is, “Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.” The second is this: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” There is no other commandment greater than these.
Mark 12:29–31 (ESV)

It sounds like simplification. Everything brought down to two. But it isn’t. He didn’t reduce the Law. He revealed what it was always pointing to. Before that, there were ways to manage it. You could focus on parts of it. Be careful in certain areas. Measure how you were doing. There was structure. After that, everything is measured differently.

Love God with all your heart.
Love your neighbor as yourself.

That doesn’t shrink the Law. It concentrates it.

I can simplify a workout. I can remove what isn’t necessary. I can make a system more efficient. But this doesn’t get easier. It gets clearer. It looked like He was making it simpler to follow. He wasn’t. He was taking away every place to hide. Almost like a different kind of razor. Not one that cuts complexity…but one that cuts through me.

Jesus’ Razor.

Ockham’s Razor makes things easier to explain.

Jesus’ Razor makes things honest.

Love and trust in the Lord; seek His will in your life.

#faith #trustinggod #christianity #jesuschrist #bible #seekinggodswill #truth #sanctification #godisincontrol #godhearsourprayers #salvation #providenceofGod #Ockham’srazor #Mark12:28-31

https://youtube.com/shorts/lSw4Sa7Coaw