Contextive

February 9 2026

Baby Bumps: Training for Pregnancy Like It’s a Marathon

“Unless the LORD builds the house, the builders labor in vain. Unless the LORD watches over the city, the guards stand watch in vain. In vain you rise early and stay up late, toiling for food to eat—for he grants sleep to those he loves.” (Psalm 127:1–2)

There is a growing movement among young women in America that promises total control over one of life’s most uncontrollable mysteries: conception and pregnancy. According to a 2025 report in WIRED magazine, a wave of social media influencers and holistic health coaches have branded the months before pregnancy as the “zero trimester”—a preparation window they say women must optimize through curated diets, supplement regimens, environmental purges, and courses costing up to $1,770. The hashtag #preconceptionhealth appears in over 100,000 Instagram posts. Individual TikTok videos on pregnancy prep have racked up over 13 million views. The message is seductive in its simplicity: “Healthy pregnancy isn’t chance—it’s choice.”

Consider Esther Rohr, a twenty-six-year-old wedding photographer from Oregon. Rohr has never tried to conceive. She has no known fertility issues. Yet she has spent three years overhauling her entire life in preparation: swapping synthetic workout clothes for natural fibers, replacing nonstick pans, unplugging Wi-Fi at night, undergoing a controversial OligoScan for heavy metals, completing two rounds of a cellular healing diet, and taking six to eight supplements daily. She described the process in her own words: “It was a brutal, brutal year.” Three years of preparation. No attempt at conception.

The influencers driving this movement frame pregnancy preparation as empowerment. Alexandra Radway, a functional nutritional therapy practitioner with a growing Instagram following, sells a “Baby Ready Body Book Bundle” for $97 and live courses promising to “balance your hormones, boost your energy, calm your nervous system, and prepare your body for a healthy pregnancy.” One of her signature recommendations? Watching sunrises. “It’s the equivalent of, like, 2,500 Brazil nuts of antioxidants,” she claims. “Everyone’s focusing on super foods. I’m like, ‘No, super sunrise.’”

But some experts in the field offer a different assessment. Dr. Natalie Clark Stentz, a reproductive endocrinologist at Michigan Medicine, offers a blunt assessment: “Any buzzy individual thing is likely sensational, whether that’s Brazil nuts, organ meats, or whatnot. The evidence-based things, they’re not sexy.” A 2025 study found that only five percent of the nutritional claims made on preconception social media accounts were supported by international guidelines. Fifty-four percent had no evidence at all. Dr. Kara Goldman, a fertility specialist at Northwestern University, warns: “You’re taking a very vulnerable, very highly motivated population of patients and targeting them with information that is kind of driven by financial incentives.”

“The evidence-based things, they’re not sexy.”

Here is what the promise ultimately delivers. Under an Instagram post promoting a book called 9 Months That Count Forever: How Your Pregnancy Diet Shapes Your Baby’s Future, one commenter wrote: “I feel so much guilt for not eating well during pregnancy. Definitely a bit triggered by this.” Another typed: “Well I threw up sometimes 10X a day until she was born so… Prayers.” The movement that promised empowerment ultimately delivered shame.

In the article, sociologist Miranda Waggoner, who actually coined the term “zero trimester” identified the problem: this trend “promotes the idea that there’s a causal and deterministic link between preconception care behaviors and birth outcomes, and that’s where I think it can be problematic.”

The promise was control. The cost is guilt for what was never controllable in the first place.

Rohr herself captures the theology at work beneath the lifestyle hacks: “Not knowing things is very uncomfortable for me.” That is not a statement about pregnancy preparation. That is a confession about the human condition—an admission that the deepest discomfort is not physical but existential. We cannot bear the uncertainty, so we build systems of control and call them wisdom.

Culture says a healthy pregnancy is a choice—optimize harder, spend more, control everything. Jesus says something radically different: “Unless the LORD builds the house, the builders labor in vain.” Preparation is wise. Stewardship of the body is good. But when preparation becomes a system of control designed to eliminate the need for trust, it has crossed from wisdom into idolatry. The Gospel does not promise us control over outcomes. It promises us a God who holds outcomes in his hands—and who grants sleep to those he loves.

Source: Currie Engel, “Why Are Some Women Training for Pregnancy Like It’s a Marathon?” WIRED, February 4, 2026.

January 15 2026

Who You Fly With

If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together.” (1 Corinthians 12:26)
On July 10, 2025, four astronauts sat before reporters at Kennedy Space Center for a pre-flight press conference. In three weeks, they would launch to the International Space Station for a six-month mission. NASA astronaut Zena Cardman, 38, a biologist from Williamsburg, Virginia, would command the crew on her first spaceflight. Veteran astronaut Mike Fincke, 58, on his fourth mission and with 549 days already logged in orbit, would serve as pilot. Japanese astronaut Kimiya Yui and Russian cosmonaut Oleg Platonov rounded out the international crew. When asked about the mission, Cardman offered a simple philosophy: “It’s not when you fly, it’s who you fly with.”
On August 1, 2025, Crew-11 launched aboard SpaceX Dragon Endeavour. They docked with the space station and began their work—conducting experiments, maintaining systems, and marking the 25th anniversary of continuous human presence aboard the ISS. Fincke, who had helped build the station during the shuttle era, assumed command of Expedition 74. The crew became, as Cardman would later describe them, a family.
Then, on January 7, 2026, something went wrong. NASA announced that a “medical concern” had arisen with one of the crew members. A planned spacewalk—which would have been Cardman’s first—was immediately cancelled. Within 24 hours, NASA made the unprecedented decision to bring Crew-11 home a month early. It would be the first medical evacuation in the International Space Station’s 25-year history.
NASA refused to identify which astronaut was ill. For privacy reasons, they said. But that decision created a problem: how do you bring one person home for medical treatment without revealing who it is? If three astronauts flew directly to Houston while one went to the hospital, the secret would be exposed. The sick crew member would be isolated, identified, vulnerable.
So NASA made a different choice. All four would delay going home to be with family and friends. All four would go to the hospital. All four would stay overnight. All four would be released together.
On January 15, 2026, at 3:41 a.m., Crew Dragon Endeavour splashed down in the Pacific Ocean off the coast of San Diego. Recovery crews pulled the capsule aboard the ship Shannon. When the hatch opened, the astronauts were seen waving to the camera, making heart signs with their hands. Fincke gave a thumbs-up. Cardman pointed to someone off-camera and smiled. They were placed on stretchers—standard procedure after months in weightlessness—and flown together to a local hospital. They spent the night together. The next morning, they were released together and flown to Houston together.
At the post-mission press conference on January 21, Commander Cardman addressed reporters: “Our timing of this departure is unexpected, but what was not surprising to me was how well this crew came together as a family to help each other and just take care of each other, and this includes very much our teams on the ground.” Then Fincke, the veteran of four spaceflights, quoted his rookie commander’s words from seven months earlier—the words she had spoken before any crisis, before anyone knew they would need them: “It’s not when you fly, it’s who you fly with.”
The body of Christ works the same way. When one member suffers, we do not point and identify. We do not isolate the weak so the strong can continue unhindered. We come alongside. We go to the hospital together. We protect dignity while sharing the burden. Four astronauts showed the world what the church has always been called to be: a crew that comes together as family precisely when the mission gets hard. “If one member suffers, all suffer together.”

December 23 2025

The Machinery of Unforgivable

If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault, between you and him alone” (Matthew 18:15).

What happens when nobody takes the first step towards forgiveness? When, instead of direct confrontation, we build elaborate systems of avoidance and retaliation?

There’s a moment at the 2013 Academy Awards that looks like pure Hollywood magic: Steven Spielberg and Ben Affleck embrace as Argo wins Best Picture over Spielberg’s Lincoln. The cameras capture genuine warmth between two industry giants. What the cameras don’t show is the invisible machinery that had to grind through years of grudges before that moment could happen.

Just last week, Entertainment Weekly published a story that reveals what was really happening behind that Oscar night embrace. Filmmaker Mike Binder was interviewed about a project he tried to make in the mid-2000s—a Hollywood thriller he’d written that Steven Spielberg was supposed to direct through DreamWorks. When Spielberg backed out of directing, he still wanted the movie made at his studio with Binder at the helm. Binder met with Ben Affleck, fresh off The Upside of Anger, and they shook hands on a deal.

Then Spielberg said no. Not because of box office concerns, though he mentioned those. Not because of Affleck’s tabloid relationship with Jennifer Lopez, though he brought that up too. The real reason came out in a story about a family vacation years earlier, when Affleck was dating Spielberg’s goddaughter, Gwyneth Paltrow.

The poolside incident was minor—Spielberg’s young son, playing around, pushed a fully-dressed Ben Affleck into the pool. Affleck, embarrassed and angry, picked up the boy and threw him back in, making him cry. A thirty-second interaction. But watch what machinery gets constructed around thirty seconds of wounded pride.

Spielberg doesn’t call Affleck. Doesn’t ask for an apology. Instead, he builds a veto system. When Binder wants to cast Affleck, Spielberg deploys his grudge like corporate policy: “Can’t do it with him. I have problems with him.” Then comes the pool story, delivered not as hurt requiring resolution, but as justification for executive decision-making. The unforgiveness has become procedural.

Here’s how the machinery works: When Binder tells Affleck’s agents the news, Affleck immediately knows what happened. He calls Binder directly: “Did Steven Spielberg tell you I threw his kid in the water? Is that why I’m not on your movie?” The system is so established that Affleck can diagnose it from three thousand miles away. Both men are operating a well-oiled mechanism of mutual avoidance, each justified in their position, neither willing to dismantle what they’ve built.

Binder tries to cast Affleck anyway. DreamWorks drops the entire project the next day. The machinery has enforcement mechanisms. The movie gets made elsewhere, goes straight to DVD, and both men continue their separate trajectories—Spielberg with Lincoln, Affleck with Argo—their unforgiveness running parallel, invisible, unresolved.

Then comes Oscar night, and the machinery finally breaks. Not through confrontation or apology, but through public necessity. When Affleck’s film beats Spielberg’s for Best Picture, the cameras demand an embrace. And in that moment, the system of avoidance collapses under its own weight. Binder, watching from home, texts Affleck: “Tonight you could throw Spielberg’s whole family in the pool and get away with it.” An hour later, his phone rings—it’s Affleck calling from the Academy Awards, laughing. The hug wasn’t fake—it was the reluctant dismantling of machinery neither man wanted to operate anymore.

What the Gospel reveals is that we’re all running similar systems. We don’t usually call it unforgiveness—we call it “maintaining boundaries” or “learning from experience” or “protecting ourselves.” We build elaborate justification machinery around simple hurts, transforming thirty-second wounds into multi-year corporate policies of the heart. We know exactly what we’re doing, like Affleck diagnosing Spielberg’s veto from across town, and we keep doing it anyway.

But Scripture doesn’t say, “If your brother sins against you, construct a sophisticated avoidance system that runs automatically for seven years.” It says, “Go and tell him his fault, between you and him alone.” Because God knows the machinery we build around unforgiveness becomes its own prison. We’re not just refusing reconciliation—we’re actively maintaining the refusal, updating it, enforcing it, until the grudge becomes more work than the original wound ever was.

The grace of the Gospel is that Jesus didn’t build machinery around our betrayal. He built a cross. Where we construct systems of retaliation and avoidance, Christ constructed a path to reconciliation that cost Him everything. We threw Him in the pool, metaphorically speaking, and He didn’t spend three years justifying why He couldn’t work with us. He spent three days in a tomb defeating the death we deserved.

The Academy Awards hug wasn’t reconciliation—it was exhaustion. The real question is: What machinery are you maintaining? What sophisticated systems of justified unforgiveness are running in your relationships, humming along so automatically you barely notice the energy they consume? And what would it cost to simply walk over and have the conversation God keeps telling you to have?

Source:
Wesley Stenzel, “Steven Spielberg refused to work with Ben Affleck because of pool fight on a family vacation,” Entertainment Weekly, Dec. 22, 2025.[1]

Total eclipse of the Sun. The moon covers the sun in a solar eclipse

April 1 2024

No Wounds No Wonder

“The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork.”
Psalm 19:1

On April 8, more than 500,000 people will experience the “Great American Eclipse.” They will watch as the sky darkens and stars appear around a blaring corona. They will feel the temperature plummet in the shadow of the Moon. And they will listen as nocturnal creatures deliver a rare daytime performance.

Twelve million people live in the line of totality. Millions more will witness the eclipse through streaming and broadcast outlets. Scientist expect this eclipse will likely be the most photographed, most videoed, event in history. All this attention will doubtless drive “eclipse” phraseology to the top of web-searched words and solar terminology into our everyday conversations. And according to Psalm 19, this event can teach us something deep about God and his plan for us.

Here are three truths this eclipse may illuminate.

Flaws Create Beauty
Blemishes aren’t something we put out on full display, they are something we hide. We don’t want anyone to know we’ve been hurt, that we are actually damaged, that we are not perfect.

The view of the Sun’s corona is only part of the breathtaking show.

One of the most impressive features of a total eclipse is known as “diamond ring” effect. Just as our star’s corona comes into view, the entire surface of the Sun will be blocked except for one final burst of light on the trailing edge of the eclipse leading into totality (and again on the leading edge of the eclipse leading out of totality). This final burst of light creates the illusion of a sparkling diamond set on a golden ring, hence the name.

You may be interested in what is actually happening to cause this spectacle of beauty.

On Earth, layers of gas that embody the air we breathe also shield us from cosmic bombardment. Each night, the Earth is pummeled by over 5,000 bits of space debris. Some are as small as a household appliance. Others may be as large as a small automobile. Throughout the course of history, some have been much larger. As these objects enter our atmosphere, many will disintegrate as the gasses around them ignite due to friction. Others glance off the side of our atmosphere and bounce harmlessly back into space. In fact, of the 5,000 asteroids that come into contact with the earth each day, only a handful will make it to the ground because of our atmosphere.

Most of us wish we had an atmosphere. Some protective layer to shield you from bombardment. Something that might burn up the bullets, something to deflect the darts. But the hits keep coming, the scars are mounting, and you don’t know why or what good can actually come from it.

Our lives are actually more like the moon. We have no atmosphere. When the moon finds itself in the path of a celestial object, there is nothing to prevent the crash or resulting crater. It hits with the full force of its momentum and the pull of gravity. The result is millions of scars and blemishes dotting the surface. And it is these imperfections lying along the limb of the Moon that create the breathtaking image of a diamond ring.

As the Moon transits in front of the Sun, what viewers actually witness just before totality is the corona bursting through a blemish along the trailing edge of the Moon. We are essentially watching a sunrise through a lunar scar.

No blemish, no beauty.

We may not enjoy the bombardment of life, but the truth is that the blemishes in our life are precisely condition to create a spectacle of wonder. A moment when the blaring rays of God’s grace and provision can burst through some crater in our past. A breathtaking moment that would not exist without the blemishes and scars life brings us.

When the Apostle Paul lamented over a “blemish” in his life, God responded with this truth; “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” In response, Paul determined to let his blemishes shine; “Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me” (2 Corinthians 12:9-10). This is why Paul is later able to say; “For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us” (Romans 8:18).

God’s Grace Is > Than Our Sin
Struggles always appear larger in the “now.” There is something about our proximity to trouble that seems to magnify its power. As the Moon slips in front of the Sun, for a brief moment, the dominating light of our star will appear muted. Except for the corona, the cold stone surface of the moon will block out the vast illuminating rays of the Sun. But it is not the Moon’s size that creates its dominance over the light.

In our sky, the Sun and Moon have the same visible footprint. But, of course, the Moon is actually 400 times smaller. And yet, despite its cold dim inferiority, the Moon has the ability to hijack the daylight. During an eclipse, it is not the Moon’s size that will bring darkness to 12 million people. It is our proximity to it. As the Moon transits between the Earth and the Sun, it will rest 400 times closer to us than our star, thus almost perfectly eclipsing the greater power in our sky.

But even in the darkness of eclipse totality, the blaring corona reminds observers that the dominating light of the Sun radiates uninterrupted.

There are times when the light of our day is eclipsed by an unscheduled darkness. A job loss, a relationship conflict, a physical illness, perhaps even the death of a friend. Other times, our own actions may usher in darkness. As sin slips between us and the radiance of God, it may for a moment appear as great as God’s provision and grace. But this sensation is only an illusion created by our proximity to it; only a shadow of darkness. And the object that cast it cannot long blot out the immense source of light.

The darkness is not a result of the size of our struggle, but rather, only our proximity to it.

Jesus told the disciples the night before the crucifixion: “I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world” (c.f. 1 John 3:20; Romans 5:20)

No level of human struggle can block out the loving, gracious, illuminating radiance of the Father. No matter how large they may seem at the time. John tells us that “whenever our heart condemns us, God is greater than our heart, and he knows everything” (1 John 3:20). Paul put it this way: “where sin increased, grace abounded all the more” (Romans 5:20).

Even in our darkest days, God’s grace radiates uninterrupted.

Be In Or Out
Little decisions matter.

As the shadow of the Moon makes its way from Mexico to Maine, in a 70 mile line of totality, individuals will be able to witness the full eclipse. The area under the shadow

Those inside the path will be able to enjoy the full eclipse experience. Some for just a few seconds, others for nearly 3 minutes. As is with so much of life, location is everything.

Factors like the terrain of the Moon and the terrain of the earth in the area near the eclipse path can radically affect viewing times. These variables will determine how long viewers will be treated to an eclipse, or if they will be able to witness the eclipse at all.

For the best experience, location is everything. For those outside the path, there is no dramatic moment of totality, no dance of Baily’s Beads around the edge of the moon’s disk, no intense darkening of the skies, no stars and planets suddenly revealing themselves against an impossible twilight, no corona flashing into view.

Brentwood Baptist Church in Nashville Tennessee rests right on the cusp of the southern edge of the total eclipse zone. The southern edge of the line of totality runs right through the campus of one of Nashville’s largest churches.

If one walks out the north doors of the campus at around 6:28pm on August 21, they will be treated to about 7 seconds of totality. If they were to walk out the south doors of the campus at the same time, they would be just outside the viewing area. Out one way, umbra, corona, and awe. Out the other way, an interesting spectacle, but absent of the earth shattering brilliance happening just feet away.

Little decisions matter. Close is not enough.

Little decisions matter, especially the decision to follow Jesus. Out one way, we rest in the umbra of the cross. Out the other, and we rest in the penumbra of his judgment (Romans 10:8-10).

January 5 2020

Feeling Clean Or Being Clean

Diagnosing personal motivations is more difficult that most think.

In his work Start with Why, Simon Sinek discusses the importance of our motivation. And in Chapter 4, under the heading “It’s What You Can’t See That Matters”, the author reveals that sometimes we think we want one thing while pursuing another.

Detergent advertisers once promoted their product with statements like “Gets your whites whiter and your brights brighter.” It was the value proposition for many years. That’s what the market research revealed customers wanted. But was it really? Sinek explains:

The data was true, but the truth of what people wanted was different. The makers of laundry detergent asked consumers WHAT they wanted from detergent, and consumers said whiter whites and brighter brights. Not such a remarkable finding, if you think about it, that people doing laundry wanted their detergent to help get their clothes not just clean, but very clean. So brands attempted to differentiate HOW they got your whites whiter and brights brighter by trying to convince consumers that one additive was more effective than another. Protein, said one brand. Color enhancers, said another. No one asked customers WHY they wanted their clothes clean.

Later, a group of anthropologists discovered that this approach wasn’t really driving buying decisions. They observed that when people took their laundry out of the dryer, no one held it up to the light to see how white and bright it was. The first thing people did was to smell it. “This was an amazing discovery,” then Sinek concludes, “Feeling clean was more important to people than being clean.”

What these marketing departments discovered was that having clothes smell fresh and clean “mattered much more than the nuanced differences between which detergent actually made clothes measurably cleaner.”

This same attitude extends out of the laundry room deep into the recesses of our hearts. We are much more interested in the illusion of clean than the reality of clean. God, on the other hand, is concerned about our actual purity.

Doing good deeds might help us “feel” clean. But it’s not a real clean. Isaiah confesses, “We have all become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous deeds are like a polluted garment.” Authentic cleanness comes only through faith alone in Jesus Christ. This is why the author of Hebrews invites us to “draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water” (Hebrews 10:22).

References:
Psalm 51:10-17; Isaiah 1:16; Matthew 23:26; John 7:24; 2 Corinthians 7:1; Hebrews 10:22; 1 John 1:7, 9

October 15 2019

Gemini Man

Nobody can force themselves into maturity. It is a process that takes time and commitment. I personally long for the days when I mature past my present hangups and failures. And I bet I am not alone in this regard. So what’s the secret to unlocking maturity?

In the film Gemini Man, Henry Brogan, played by Will Smith, is a government hitman. He’s not simply an assassin; he is the best at what he does. So good in fact that his government decided to secretly clone him in a project covertly labeled Gemini. When Brogan decides to retire, top-level agents within the program decide that he must be eliminated. But since Brogan is the best, who will be qualified for the job? Enter Junior, the product of project Gemini. Played by a digital re-creation of a younger Will Smith, Junior has all of Brogan’s natural abilities. But he’s missing the experience, wisdom, and judgment that can only come from time.

The film is a technological first of its kind. To generate the younger version of Will Smith, directors filmed the 51-year-old actor wearing special sensors that captured his exact movements as he played Junior. A younger body and face was then digitally remastered over the older real person. The result is hardly distinguishable from reality.

In a recent interview, Smith was asked about the challenges associated with talking, walking, and moving like a younger version of himself. Always committed to the quality of his art, Smith watched videos of his days on The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, studying closely his old mannerisms. One might think that the process would not be so difficult; after all, he’s still the same person, just a little (30 years or so) older. But time changes a person, altering more than their physical appearance. There was an unforeseen challenge. Smith explains:

You know what the most difficult part is, it’s like playing youth. So there is a naïveté to youth and there’s a look in someone’s eyes when they really don’t know. But as you get older, there’s something, like, it just gets in your blood and in your cells when you know things. . . As an actor, you can’t unring that bell. So I went back, and I studied my old material to try to find youthful naïveté.

In another interview, Smith stated that it would be easier for a younger version of himself to act older than for the older version of himself to act younger.

Naïveté is defined as a lack of experience, wisdom, or judgment. Time changes a person. Time on a job brings vocational experience, wisdom, and judgment. Time spent with children brings paternal experience, wisdom, and judgment. Time on the court brings game-play experience, wisdom, and judgment. Time brings maturity, and it is hard to hide.

Writing to the church at Corinth, Paul encourages Christ-followers to live in accordance with their growth. He expects that their time studying and applying God’s Word should have changed them, to a greater degree than they are presently acting. Paul summarizes, “When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways” (1 Corinthians 13:11)

Our Christian maturity, or the lack thereof, tells us a great deal about the time we have spent developing our faith-walk. Spiritual growth, like natural aging, is hard to hide. Said another way, “it’s hard to unring that bell.” Time changes us. Committed to Christ, it is never wasted. Time spent with Jesus brings spiritual experience, wisdom, judgment, and a putting away of childish things.