When I was a little girl, I had these hand-me-down shoes that I loved. I wore them everywhere. Anywhere, really. I don't think I cared whether they were appropriate for where I was going. If those were the shoes I wanted to wear, then those were the shoes I was wearing. And when they became too small, I still didn't want to let them go. I would squeeze my feet into them and somehow convince myself that they still fit. I imagine an adult looking at me and thinking, Child, these shoes are clearly too small. Please take them off. But I loved them. And I think about those shoes sometimes when I hear us talk about things like seasons, letting go, releasing, creating room, moving on. Usually, when we talk about letting go, there is something wrong with the thing we're letting go of. It has become toxic. It doesn't serve us anymore. It is holding us back. We have outgrown it. We need to make room for something better. And yes, sometimes that is exactly what letting go looks li...
What does it truly mean to be good? Socrates asked this question, and so did the writer of Proverbs. The ancient Greeks believed the examined life was the only one worth living. The Hebrew Bible implores us to walk humbly, do justly, and love mercy. Jesus said the greatest commandment is love—of God, and of neighbor. Yet despite all these teachings, human beings often seek shortcuts to virtue. In Kenya, where Christian devotion saturates the public and private sphere—where gospel music flows from every matatu, church gatherings abound, and Bibles decorate countless coffee tables—there remains a chasm between belief and moral action. Why does Christianity seem powerless to transform us? We are a nation flooded with religious ritual but starved of ethical reflection. You can go to a church service on Sunday, steal land on Monday, destroy a young woman’s life on Tuesday, and blame it all on the devil by Wednesday. We memorize scripture but forget to live it. We cry during worship son...