After I resigned from RZIM, I resolved to never start an online community again. I'd run one for RZIM. Seeing it shut down and all the relationships suddenly ended kept me up for nights. When anyone asked me if I would do it again, I got angry. Why would I volunteer for an assignment that had caused me so much pain?

For weeks, I prepared to give a talk to a large group of college students. The emcee got them excited to hear what I had to say. I asked God to help me share a powerful message and gave it my best effort. But as far as I know, no one decided to follow Jesus.

In Hans Christian Andersen's fairy tale, two swindlers convince a foolish but fashionable emperor to buy their magical clothes. The con men claim that the clothes can't be seen by anyone who is incompetent or stupid. No one wants to be thought a fool, so everyone pretends they can see the non-existent clothes. At the end of the story, the king marches through the city wearing nothing at all. Even when a child says what's obvious, he keeps going, too embarrassed to admit his mistake. We love stories that expose how the pride of powerful leaders causes them to make foolish decisions. What's unusual is a powerful ruler who humbly leads his community to repent before God.

Does God contradict himself? Numbers 23:19 says, "God is not a man, that he might lie, or a son of man, that he might change his mind. Does he speak and not act, or promise and not fulfill?" So, how can God declare that Nineveh will be demolished and then avoid demolishing it? Is God changing his mind? Can we disrupt his eternal plans?

In Luke 15, the religious leaders complain about Jesus: "This man welcomes sinners and eats with them." In response, Jesus tells three stories: one about a lost sheep, one about a lost coin, and one about two lost sons. In the third story, the younger son squanders his inheritance in wild living. When he finally comes to his senses and decides to go home, he plans to tell his father, "Father, I have sinned against heaven and in your sight." But while he's still a long way off, his father runs out to hug and kiss him. He barely starts his speech before his father announces plans for a giant party. Then the older son hears about the party. He gets angry and refuses to join the celebration. When his father comes out to plead with him, he won't call him "my brother." Instead, he talks about "this son of yours." All he can see is his sin. His dad's mercy is unforgivable.