The Confinement Journals

These words were not written from a place of comfort or with the benefit of hindsight. They were scratched out in the middle of the fire—inside a jail cell where my control had ended and my reputation had vanished. I found that when you are stripped of everything, you discover what is indestructible. These reflections are the record of a God who does not wait for us to get out of the margins to meet us; He is already there, waiting for us to look up.



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