
February 1, 2026
Chris Freeland

Southwest
Mark starts in the place where control runs out and dependence begins.
There’s something disorienting about realizing how much of life we’ve spent swimming in water we’ve never questioned. We assume influence comes from position, strength, and visibility. We trust what looks powerful. We gravitate toward leaders who feel decisive and in control. And then Mark opens his Gospel and immediately unsettles all of it.
The good news doesn’t begin in a palace or a capital city. It begins in the wilderness—a place defined not by strength, but by exposure. Not by control, but by dependence. That alone should tell us something about the kind of King Jesus is.
Before Jesus ever steps onto the scene, John the Baptist appears as the messenger. And nothing about him fits the mold. He’s not polished. He’s not strategic. He’s not building a platform. His whole life points away from himself and toward a different kind of kingdom. A kingdom that doesn’t run on the same fuel as everything else around us.
And then his message lands: repent. Not as a threat, but as an invitation. A call to rethink everything. To change not just behavior, but perspective. To examine the assumptions we’ve built our lives on—especially the ones about power, control, and what it means to live well.
That’s where this gets personal. It’s easy to critique systems or wish for better leadership “out there.” But repentance doesn’t start out there. It starts with honesty about what’s happening in here. The kind of power I trust. The ways I try to secure control. The places I look to feel safe or significant.
What’s striking is that people actually responded. They left the comfort of the city and went into the wilderness. That doesn’t happen unless something inside you knows the current way isn’t working. That maybe all the control and structure and success still isn’t delivering what it promised.
Jesus doesn’t force Himself into that space. But He does invite us into it. Into a place where we can finally see clearly. Where we can let go of what we’ve always assumed and consider something better.
The question isn’t whether Jesus is capable of leading. It’s whether I’m willing to be led—especially when His way feels so different from everything I’m used to.
Reflection Questions