Imperfect Motives, Faithful Actions

Devotionals, as a category of Christian literature, are religious writings designed for personal spiritual growth and edification. These works—often in the form of daily readings, short meditations, or entries—typically include a Bible verse, a brief reflection, practical application, and sometimes a prayer to help believers deepen their relationship with God and apply faith to daily life.

One of the earliest books in this genre, published in 1486, was The Imitation of Christ by Thomas à Kempis. When I read it some forty years ago, I was struck by a statement that stuck with me since that time. Kempis wrote, “It is better to do the right thing for the wrong reasons than to do the wrong thing.” 

There was something strange about this statement to me. As a result I spent a lot of time pondering whether this was true or not.

What I was stumbling over, as a young Christian, was the notion that if we were to be like Christ our motives should be pure like his. How could it be right to do anything for the wrong reasons? Isn't this hypocrisy of sorts?

As I reflected on this, it became apparent (to me) that the statement was quite brilliant. Human motives are rarely pure. Pride, fear, self-interest, and the desire for approval often mingle with genuine goodness. If moral action required perfect intention, very little good would ever be done. I'll say that again. If moral action required perfect intention, very little good would ever be done.

Kempis suggests that obedience to what is right has a formative power of its own. Right action, even when imperfectly motivated, can train the will, discipline desire, and slowly purify intention. In contrast, doing what is wrong—even with sincere feeling or passion—reinforces disorder and bends the soul away from truth.

This is not a dismissal of intention, but a refusal to let flawed motives paralyze moral responsibility. The good must still be done. Over time, action shapes the heart as much as the heart shapes action.  

This statement has another liberating feature. Overmuch introspection is a serious trap. We're always looking at ourselves instead of the needs of others. It's a variation of navel-gazing. This is not to deny the importance or value of reflecting on our actions to see what they reveal about what's inside us. Rather, the key is balance: healthy self-examination, guided by Scripture, leads us to repentance and greater reliance on Christ, while excessive or morbid introspection turns us inward in a self-absorbed way that breeds discouragement, despair, and neglect of loving others. Ultimately, true spiritual growth comes not from endless self-focus but from fixing our eyes on Jesus and turning outward in service, as the gospel frees us from the prison of over-analyzing ourselves.

Kempis reminds us that virtue is learned by practice. The path toward integrity often begins not with pure motives, but with choosing the good anyway. 

Applications are many. Here are some starter examples: Showing kindness despite mixed or reluctant feelings. Doing one’s duty when enthusiasm is absent. Practicing generosity before generosity feels natural. 

Doing what's right is a choice, even when we don't feel like it.   

The Sweetwater Wind Turbine Blade Dumpsites

On Saturday (Feb 7) Robert Bryce published an article about the massive financial losses Stellantis (formerly Chrysler) has incurred by manufacturing vehicles customers don't want (EVs) rather than vehicles people actually do want. By simply reporting facts Bryce has been an ongoing thorn in the side for automakers and others married to the Green Transition.

He ends the "free" segment of his substack post with this paragraph:

Here’s a closer look at the Stellantis announcement, along with two updated spreadsheets showing the losses for each automaker. I also have two short items, including NERC’s warning about electricity shortages and the Texas AG’s long-overdue lawsuit against the owner of two notorious wind turbine blade dumpsites in Sweetwater.

I'm not a paid subscriber (yet) so I had to do my own research about the Sweetwater dumpsites for wind turbine blades.

The wind turbine blade dumpsites in Sweetwater, Texas are located in Nolan County, often refrred to as the "Wind Energy Capital of North America" due to he large wind farms nearby. Large stockpiles of decommissioned wind turbine blades that have been accumulating there since around 2017. These are not traditional landfills but open, unpermitted storage sites where blades have been dumped rather than recycled as originally planned.

A company called Global Fiberglass Solutions (GFS), based out in Washington, began collecting used blades from wind farms across the U.S. The plan was to transport them to Sweetwater, shred or process them into reusable materials (like composites for products such as railroad ties or flooring), and recycle them. However, the recycling operation largely failed to materialize, leading to massive accumulations instead.

There are two main sites in and around Sweetwater. One site is within or near the city limits, notably across from the historic Sweetwater Cemetery on West Alabama Avenue which is often described as a "blade boneyard" or "graveyard." (Maybe a new reality show could be created called Sweetwater City Limits? The other site is south of town, along Highway 70.

The blades are typically cut into sections before being transported.  They purportedly cover about 40 acres of land. (One site is about 30 acres and the other around 10.) The sites have around 3,000 blades and related parts like nacelles. (Nacelles are streamlined, enclosed housings for the machinery found in the wind turbine head.)

Recent reports (as of this year) indicate the sites contain around 487,000 cubic yards of solid waste. The problem is that these are illegal/unpermitted disposal sites because they lack proper waste management permits. The blades, lying exposed, have been more than an eyesore. They are attracting vermin and rattlesnakes, posing safety hazards (e.g., to children before fencing was added), and were being declared a public nuisance by Nolan County as early as 2020.

In response the Texas Commission on Environmental Quality (TCEQ) has issued orders and penalties (e.g., a 2022 agreed order with fines for unauthorized storage).

This week, Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton sued Global Fiberglass Solutions and affiliates for violating solid waste disposal laws, seeking penalties, removal of the waste, and other relief. The state alleges the company illegally dumped and abandoned the materials, damaging land and threatening communities.

Considering the size of Texas, 40 acres doesn't seem like much. On the other hand, considering the size of Sweetwater (a little over 10,000 people) that is a lot of eyesore for one's back 40. (Fwiw, Sweetwater is 44 miles west of Abilene on Highway 20, or 194 miles west of Fort Worth.)

This situation highlights broader challenges with wind turbine blade disposal: the composite fiberglass material is difficult and expensive to recycle, leading some to end up in landfills elsewhere or in stockpiles like this. Sweetwater's case has drawn media attention as a prominent example of the "dark side" of wind energy end-of-life issues, in stark contrast to the town's wind-friendly identity.

For visuals of these sites (aerial views showing piles of massive white blade sections in fields), search for images of "Sweetwater Texas wind turbine blades" or similar terms. I borrowed this shot (above) from Texas Monthly without permission. If asked to pull it I shall. If you have an alternative image, send me a note and I will give you credit.

Wind turbine blades are extremely durable, made from fiberglass or carbon-fiber composites, which are hard to separate and not easily recyclable with conventional methods. Recycling blades is currently one of the industry's biggest challenges.

Find Robert Bryce here on Substack.

Marketing Matters: Four Big Words Worth Slowing Down For

BUSNESS NORTH: February 2026

This article is dedicated to an exceptionally perceptive friend, the late Dan Hansen, who died on December 28, 2025, from pneumonia and complications related to Spinal Muscular Atrophy. Despite significant physical challenges, Dan lived a rich, creative life marked by curiosity, insight, and careful attention to ideas.

 

One evening, while discussing a project we were working on, I used the word discernment. Dan paused and said, “That’s a big word.” He didn’t mean it as a criticism. He meant it as an observation.

 

As we talked about what the word meant—and how it applied not just to our project, but to decision-making more broadly—he suggested that certain words carry more weight than others. These were words worth slowing down for, words that shape how we think and act if we take them seriously.

 

Over the next few weeks, the list began to grow. What follows are the first four: 

 

Discernment, Context, Motivation, and Momentum

Each matters in marketing. More importantly, each matters because they help us make better judgments in a noisy, fast-moving environment—something Dan understood instinctively.

 

Discernment

Marketing today suffers less from a lack of information than from an excess of it. We are awash in metrics, dashboards, trend reports, expert opinions, and algorithmic advice. The temptation is to believe that if we just collect enough data, the right decision will present itself. In practice, the opposite often happens.

 

Discernment is the ability to decide what matters—and just as importantly, what does not. 

Not every new platform deserves your attention. Not every metric deserves equal weight. Not every tactic that worked for another company will work for yours. Discernment requires judgment, not just measurement. It means asking better questions before acting: Who is this for? What problem does it actually solve? Does this align with who we are and where we’re headed?

 

Without discernment, marketing becomes reactive. Businesses chase trends, imitate competitors, and respond to noise instead of signals. Effort increases, clarity decreases, and results flatten out.

 

Good marketing decisions often look boring from the outside. They involve saying no—to distractions, to shiny objects, to unnecessary complexity. Over time, discernment builds focus, coherence, and credibility.

 

In marketing, wisdom isn’t knowing everything. It’s knowing which few things deserve your attention.

 

Context

Once discernment helps clarify what deserves attention, context determines whether that attention lands well or falls flat.

 

Marketing messages do not exist in isolation. They are received at a particular moment, by a particular audience, under particular conditions. The same message can feel timely and relevant in one context—and tone-deaf or irrelevant in another.

 

Context includes more than demographics. It includes timing, culture, local conditions, economic mood, and recent events that shape how people interpret what they see and hear. A message that works nationally may miss the mark locally. A campaign that made sense last year may feel out of step today.

 

When marketers ignore context, they tend to overestimate the power of their message and underestimate the situation it enters. That’s when marketing starts to feel intrusive rather than helpful.

 

Effective marketing doesn’t just speak clearly. It speaks appropriately. That depends less on clever wording than on situational awareness.

 

Motivation

Discernment helps us decide what deserves attention. Context helps us understand where that attention will land. Motivation answers a more basic question: why anyone would care at all.

 

Good marketing does not create motivation out of thin air. People are already motivated by something—solving a problem, reducing risk, saving time, improving status, or avoiding frustration. Marketing works when it recognizes those existing motivations and aligns with them, not when it tries to manufacture desire through pressure or hype.

 

When motivation is misunderstood, marketing becomes noisy. Messages get louder, offers more aggressive, and tactics more intrusive. The assumption is that people need to be pushed. In reality, they usually need to be understood.

 

Motivation also matters internally. Organizations that lose sight of why they market often drift into activity without purpose. Without a clear motivation, effort increases while impact diminishes.

 

Marketing succeeds not by overpowering motivation, but by respecting it.

 

Momentum

With the Super Bowl approaching, it’s worth borrowing a lesson from sports.

 

In baseball, a string of base hits can be more damaging than a single home run. The rally builds pressure, unsettles the opposition, and energizes everyone involved. In football, the same principle applies. Methodical, sustained drives down the field are often more demoralizing than a single long touchdown pass. Those drives communicate control. They wear opponents down.

 

Marketing momentum works the same way.

 

Many businesses look for the equivalent of the long pass—one campaign, one viral post, one silver bullet, one promotion that suddenly changes everything. Occasionally that happens. More often, lasting advantage is built through steady progress: consistent messaging, repeated exposure, and incremental trust earned over time.

 

Momentum isn’t about speed or spectacle. It’s about direction and endurance. Familiarity takes time. Trust takes repetition. Recognition builds quietly before it becomes obvious.

In marketing, as in sports, the teams that control the field over time tend to win—not because of one dramatic moment, but because the pressure never lets up.

 

Closing

These are big words. Not because they sound impressive, but because they ask more of us. They require judgment, patience, and restraint—qualities that are easy to overlook in an environment that rewards speed and volume.

 

Discernment, context, motivation, and momentum won’t make marketing easier. But they do make it better. They remind us to slow down, think clearly, and act with intention. In a world full of noise, those may be the biggest advantages of all. 

From Population Bomb to Ethanol Mandates

Photo by Wouter Supardi Salari on Unsplash

When I was in college around 1970, one of the books that shaped how many thought about the future was The Population Bomb, by Paul Ehrlich. The central fear then was stark and urgent: humanity was growing faster than the planet’s ability to feed itself. Mass starvation, we were told, was not a distant possibility but an approaching certainty unless something changed.

Whether Ehrlich’s predictions would prove right or wrong is beside the point. What mattered was the anxiety that framed the era. Food was precious. Arable land was finite. Population growth threatened to overwhelm fragile systems. Feeding people was the overriding concern.   

Fast-forward a few decades, and the picture has shifted in ways I never would have imagined back then. Today, the world produces more than enough food to feed everyone. And yet hundreds of millions of people remain food insecure, many of them acutely so. Hunger has not disappeared; it has simply become chronic, unevenly distributed, and easier to ignore unless it erupts into crisis.

At the same time, something else has happened—something that strikes me as strange. Vast amounts of productive farmland, particularly in the United States, are no longer devoted primarily to feeding people, but to growing corn that is converted into ethanol. This ethanol is then blended into gasoline—not to replace it, but to dilute it. We are using food-producing land, water, fertilizer, and energy to marginally extend a fuel supply, all in the name of energy independence.

This is where the dissonance creeps in.

I’ve written before about the ethanol debate and the political enthusiasm that surrounded it, especially after the passage of the Energy Independence and Security Act of 2007. Ethanol was sold as a clean, patriotic solution to foreign oil dependence. And once embraced, it quickly became politically untouchable. Powerful agricultural and industrial interests ensured that mandates stayed in place, even as questions mounted about ethanol’s true energy balance and environmental benefits.

But step back from the technical arguments for a moment and look at the larger picture. We once worried that there wouldn’t be enough food. Now we grow food to burn it. This is weird to me. 

I don’t mean that as a slogan or a condemnation. It’s simply an observation—one that feels increasingly difficult to square with the world as it is. In many parts of Africa, the Middle East, and Latin America, food insecurity is not theoretical. It shapes daily life. It fuels migration, political instability, and despair. And yet it rarely stays in our media spotlight for long. Hunger that is constant does not make for compelling headlines.

What we see instead are debates about fuel blends, mileage standards, and subsidy structures—important questions, perhaps, but questions that often unfold in isolation from broader human consequences.

None of this suggests that biofuels are inherently evil, or that farmers are villains, or that energy transitions are unnecessary. It does suggest, however, that priorities can drift in subtle ways. Policies designed for one moment can harden into assumptions, even when the conditions that gave rise to them have changed.

Perhaps what unsettles me most is not the existence of ethanol mandates, but how little we seem to reflect on their implications.* We live in a world where hunger persists alongside abundance, where farmland feeds engines while people go without, and where the moral weight of those choices is rarely discussed.

Back in 1970, we were taught to fear a future defined by scarcity. Today, the problem looks different. It is not that we lack resources. It's that we struggle to decide what they are for. And that, to my mind, is a far more troubling question.

* * * 

When I considered the title for this post I was tempted to replace the word Mandates with Madness. I left it as is because I didn't want to be accused of having a clickbait title. The topic is too important to be trivial about it.

* * * 

IMPORTANT FOOTNOTE

*Another negative feature of blending ethanol into gasoline has to with how it damages small engines due to "phase separation." Phase separation in ethanol-blended gasoline occurs when the ethanol absorbs moisture from the air or environment, causing the fuel to split into two layers: a water-ethanol mixture at the bottom and pure gasoline on top. This happens more readily in humid conditions or during long storage periods.

            The problem for small engines, like those in lawnmowers, chainsaws, or boats, is that the watery layer can corrode metal parts, clog fuel lines, and cause starting issues or engine failure. The separated gasoline lacks octane, leading to poor performance and premature death. Using ethanol-free fuel or specialized additives helps prevent this damage, but you seldom hear anyone talking about this.

Bad News, Bad News

"Nobody likes the man who brings bad news."
—Sophocles

"Grief" -- 24"x 24" Acrylic on panel. 

It''s a stubborn feature of human nature: we often confuse the message with the messenger. Bad news disrupts comfort, threatens hope, and forces reckoning, so our irritation or fear seeks an outlet. Rather than grapple with the reality being reported, we turn on the person who delivers it. This instinct appears in families, politics, workplaces, and even religion, where truth-tellers are labeled as negative, disloyal, or cruel simply for naming what others would rather avoid saying

Sophocles' quote also exposes a moral hazard. Societies and leaders that punish bearers of bad news slowly lose access to truth. This brings to mind an observation by Pixar's Ed Catmull in his book Creativity, Inc., "If there is more truth in the hallways than in meetings, you have a problem." In other words, when honesty carries social cost, people learn to soften, delay, or conceal reality. What begins as a desire for emotional comfort becomes a system of self-deception. Sophocles, who wrote Greek tragedies, understood that catastrophe often follows not from ignorance alone but from hostility toward warning.

Yet the quote also invites humility from the messenger. Bad news need not be delivered with relish or contempt. Courage, compassion and empathy must travel together. This is part of the problem with our toxic social media culture. There is seldom empathy, only outrage.

The challenge is to speak truth clearly without delighting in the pain it brings—and to hear truth without demanding pleasantness as a condition before accepting it.

Sophocles' observation applies on many fronts. It explains why whistleblowers are often shunned and why reformers are resisted. It's why leaders reward flattery over honesty and why families avoid difficult conversations. 

The truth stings, but it's better than the alternatives.  

Grace Unbound: Memoir of an Orthodox Bishop Who Takes the Roads Not Taken

"The first step of any great journey can be the riskiest one of all."

So begins the descriptor on Amazon.com for Grace Unbound: The Sacred Activism of an Orthodox Bishop (published May 2025). The book is a co-authored memoir/true story by Bishop Demetrios C. Kantzavelos (also referred to as Bishop Demetrios or Fr. Demetri) and Patra McSharry Sevastiades, with a foreword by Bill Kurtis. It chronicles Bishop Demetrios's personal journey as a Greek Orthodox priest in Chicago who unexpectedly becomes a prominent social activist, grounding his work in Christian faith, compassion, and the belief that every human life is sacred and made in the image of God.

The narrative centers on two pivotal encounters that transformed his ministry. The first took place in 1992, amid the height of the AIDS crisis. The newly ordained Fr. Demetri visited Bob, a dying man abandoned by his own parish priest due to fear and stigma. This act of compassion sparked his calling to AIDS ministry and the founding the Bishop’s Task Force on AIDS in the Greek Orthodox Diocese (later Metropolis) of Chicago. It became the first such Orthodox Christian initiative in the western hemisphere, offering resources, workshops, and pastoral care. Despite initial resistance and skepticism within his own church, the effort expanded nationally, addressing misinformation and providing support during a time of widespread fear.    

Seven years later, in 1999, Fr. Demetri was called to visit Andrew (Andrew Kokoraleis), a convicted gang member on death row for a gruesome murder (part of the "Ripper Crew" case). Andrew, who maintained his innocence and had a tragic background, became a focal point for the priest's advocacy. Grappling with moral complexities—justice for victims, empathy for the condemned, societal demands, and Christian mercy—Fr. Demetri visited him repeatedly, appealing to the governor, and ultimately joining broader efforts to halt Andrew's imminent execution. When clemency was denied and the execution proceeded, the experience propelled him into an 11-year campaign against the death penalty in Illinois.  

The book weaves these stories with reflections on faith, resilience, redemption, and the true cost of living out the Gospel. It argues that social activism—ministering to the sick, imprisoned, and marginalized—is not a departure from Orthodox tradition but a reclamation of it, confronting "social unrighteousness" while affirming life and human dignity. Themes include internal church struggles, interfaith collaboration, personal doubts, family moments, and mentorship from figures like Metropolitan Iakovos of Chicago. 

In Grace Unbound, Orthodox Christianity provided the spiritual foundation for Bishop Demetrios’s activism, following a call to live out Christ’s love through service and compassion, as highlighted in the book’s themes of sacred activism and empathy. The faith’s focus on theosis—becoming more like God through acts of love—underscores Demetrios’s efforts to minister to marginalized individuals like Bob (dying of AIDS) and Andrew (on death row for murder), showing how Orthodox principles can inspire social justice. Co-author Patra Sevastiades’s storytelling captures this blend of faith and action, making the book a powerful example of Orthodoxy’s relevance in addressing modern challenges.

Through Patra and her husband Dean Casperson, who live here in Duluth, I've  learned a few things about the Greek Orthodox Church that I'd not known before. For example, the Greek Orthodox Church broke off from Roman Catholicism in 1054 and made Constantinople its center, an event called The Great Schism. Unlike the Roman branch, which gives all authority to the Pope, the Eastern church rejected papal supremacy and governs through bishops, with the Patriarch of Constantinople as first among equals, not a ruler. There are several theological differences as well. In addition, Greek Orthodox priests can marry, whereas Catholic priests make a promise to remain celibate.

The Greek Orthodox emphasis on compassion, community, and spiritual depth is the primary driver for Demetrios in Grace Unbound. Its rich traditions and focus on personal transformation align with themes of empowerment and purpose, encouraging readers to see faith as a catalyst for meaningful change, much like Demetrios’s journey.

I'll close with these excerpts from reviews on Amazon.com.

Bishop Demetrios has written a compelling, deeply personal and highly engaging book that would appeal to ANY reader of non-fiction. Grace Unbound is written from a faith-based point of view but does not demand or assume belief from the reader. It's an easy read that draws you in quickly. It's grounded in lived experience – part memoir, part true crime, and part history and the result is inspiring, thoughtful, and surprisingly accessible to anyone interested in human stories, moral complexity and justice.

* * * 

What makes Grace Unbound particularly powerful is its balance of timeless truths and timely relevance. Whether reflecting on Scripture, personal stories, or the challenges of contemporary life, Bishop Demetrios draws the reader into a conversation that is both intimate and universal. His message is clear: no wound is too deep, no distance too great, and no soul too lost for the reach of God’s grace.

* * * 

The book blends theological reflection with personal anecdotes and practical examples, illustrating how Orthodox Christianity can inspire meaningful engagement with social issues and community needs. Bishop Demetrios advocates for a dynamic faith that goes beyond institutional boundaries, urging believers to embody Christ’s love through active service and social justice.

For more information or to purchase: Grace Unbound: The Sacred Activism of an Orthodox Bishop