A COVID Debrief

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The produced intro voiceover plays from the Pathway Studios in Johnston, then the hosts open with COVID-era banter: speaker-0 jokes about being COVID-clean for fourteen days and having mentally scanned everyone's temperature.

Bacon poll and 'the hand is the fork of the arm'

The hosts riff on a social media poll where listeners voted 100% for less bacon talk, then a host shares his daughter's mealtime logic: when asked why she eats peas with her hand, she answered 'dad, the hand is the fork of the arm' — declared T-shirt worthy.

Ben's marijuana stock is up 80%

Ben shares that a marijuana stock he bought on a COVID-hoarding thesis is up 80% and that he already sold, then a host says he replayed their corporate America conversation about fifteen times, calling it their favorite thing in ten years; Mike gets teased as 'the machine' for loving paper and rules.

The shutdown question: anxiety, depression, and spiritual impact

• Has the shutdown brought feelings of anxiousness, depression, or worry, and how has it impacted you spiritually?

Ben frames the episode's core question after reading articles about the shutdown's mental toll: is anyone feeling anxiousness, depression, or worry, and how has it impacted them spiritually? He asks the room to normalize the conversation without judging the answers.

Mike: the slowed pace and 'one hand full of quietness'

Mike says the shutdown slowed life's pace in a way that was needed, quoting Ecclesiastes' preacher-teacher that humanity's prized pursuits are 'all smoke'; he resolves not to return to 'two hands full of toil' and aims for 'one hand full of quietness' instead.

Disappointment at the politicization

A host says his main reaction has been disappointment at how political everything became — masks, staying home, work — with people angry at each other online; he notes the shutdown barely affected him personally since he spent it doing projects and going to Home Depot.

Speaking from your own social class

Mike cautions he can only see the shutdown from his own socioeconomic seat, naming tattoo artists, hairstylists, and hourly workers losing hours as people he can't speak for; Ben adds that conversations lack 'the grace of context' when people react as if one perspective claims to be all wisdom.

Real fear, incomplete data, and confirmation bias

• What are fallible humans supposed to do when complete, unbiased data is unavailable?

Ben distinguishes real fear from fear the facts don't warrant — his example is someone terrified a car will spin off a cul-de-sac into their house — and argues everyone grabs the data that affirms their narrative, so 'almost everybody who is not themselves assumes everybody else is a jerk.'

Thirty-second news and the limiter of context

Ben blames sound-bite culture: people want thirty seconds of news for a six-hour story, share headlines they haven't read, and then complain the media misleads them. His practice is reading three articles — left, right, and middle — and he urges resisting pressure to pick a side: shut off the TV and read scripture thirty days, two hours a day.

Boova: 'it's been super rough'

Handed the floor as 'Buva,' Boova says the shutdown has been super rough: his brain doesn't do well in high-anxiety, high-stimulus climates, his support network was cut off, his fiancee's visit was canceled, and immunocompromised family meant he saw his mom on Mother's Day from ten feet away at her gate.

Boova's reaffirmed identity: 'God isn't chaos'

Boova testifies the season reaffirmed his identity in Christ: a month-long daily Bible streak, prayer multiple times a day, and a calm people around him can't explain. 'The world is chaos. God isn't. He's 100% peace, and joy, and love. That does not change. He has not moved.'

The Ezekiel 1 epiphany: 'What's he doing in Babylon?'

A host shares a study breakthrough from Ezekiel while rebuilding his sermon calendar: Ezekiel, raised to be a priest, turns thirty in Babylonian captivity and sees God's throne-vision — 'God lives in the temple. What's he doing in Babylon?' The takeaway: God is alive and active even in a pandemic, 'still on the throne.'

Revelation: 'I never left'

Boova connects the Ezekiel point to Revelation: written to persecuted churches whose leaders were being killed, its message is 'no, no, no, I'm still here. I never left... I won't lose,' and those who fly his flag are victorious with him regardless of circumstances.

'Wherever Yahweh goes, the throne goes with him'

Mike argues against a static picture of kingship: God isn't stuck on a distant throne — 'wherever he goes, the throne goes with him,' angels and all. The others add that 'heaven' in scripture is God's space, and God's glory carries a felt weight, like over the ark at Sinai.

The wrong markers of anxiety

Ben suggests the things people are anxious about tend to be the wrong markers — income, control, preparedness — and that there's a goodness in the purification of what we worry about: 'my worry didn't add an ounce to it, but it also didn't take God off the throne.'

Chemical imbalances vs. ridiculous expectations

Mike splits anxiety into two buckets: genuine chemical imbalances needing guidance, and retrainable expectations — 'I am owed a 70 degree house... a car that runs.' What's actually guaranteed is 'grace and love and acceptance in the kingdom through no merit of your own'; everything else is an expectation you set up.

'Shut up, Ben': the French press incident

Ben confesses getting 'embarrassingly incensed' when a sink full of dishes blocked his French press coffee, then acting like a gorilla when his wife shushed him during school — his brain telling him 'shut up, Ben.' It becomes a parable of entitlement, student-loan forgiveness debates, and 'we're all selfish.'

Mike on the construction layoffs

Mike recalls a string of construction-industry layoffs about ten years ago — he'd prepared so it never happened again — and admits that if a pandemic shutdown threatened his house payment and food today, he'd feel it like everyone else: 'I can't fake it like it is.'

'You feed them': the feeding of the 5,000

• What should our first reaction be when faced with a problem only God can solve?

Ben walks through Luke 9: the disciples return from healing, 5,000 follow, and Jesus says 'you feed them' to men holding five loaves and two fish. Their 'we can't' is the wrong first reaction — the right one is 'yes, Lord, what are we gonna do?' Hand God-sized problems to God instead of carrying a worry-bucket that can't resolve.

Anxiety is not for you

Boova teaches that for those who call Christ king, anxiety and debilitating worry 'are just not' for them — they dissolve in a trusting relationship with God. But he warns against hearing it as a prosperity promise: God doesn't guarantee the job or the house, only that he will take care of you as he sees fit.

Don't give the news permission to make you worry

Ben's practice: 'put your worry through the filter of what would God's reaction to that be.' Treat alarming news like a stranger on the street inviting you to worry — 'no, not gonna do it.' He notes it's getting easier with practice, even in micro-investing, and Mike riffs on asking God about income security the way Isaiah flattens mountains.

Job and legitimate worry

Mike cautions against black-and-white takes using Job: real, heartbreaking things are 'well worth your time to worry about' — by which he means praying about them, not fetal-position scheming. Trying to handle others' salvation yourself is 'trying to take his throne away from him.'

Expecting mountains

Ben says he doesn't expect a mountain-free life — the cooler version of himself just sees the mountain and starts climbing: 'looks like omelet day.' He closes with the Menards bit: people who refused the mask requirement just went to Lowe's instead.

Praying for enemies — then the weekend attack

Boova shares that for weeks God kept prompting him to pray for his enemies, which felt like training for something big. Then a family member attacked him viciously — saying he was the reason his parents are dead and telling him to kill himself — leaving him hyperventilating in tears.

Going on the offensive in prayer

Instead of praying for comfort, Boova called his fiancee at 1 a.m. and prayed thirty minutes straight for his attacker's redemption — 'what does this life look like transformed in Christ?' — rebuking the evil 'in the name of Jesus, you're gone.' He emerged with his identity intact: 'my identity wasn't hurt,' rooted in being God's son.

God prepared him: Ben responds

Ben marvels at watching God prepare Boova through the 'risk free runs' so the training paid off: God-sized things get kicked up to God, yet he still wants his people confronting evil as his representatives. He calls it a triple blessing — recognizing the power, the changed heart, and the redemption to come.

The complaint line pitch

Ben pitches the Bob Eisenlauer complaint line — (515) 517-0085, calls or texts — inviting listeners to share their own stories of God at work so others can be encouraged, plus Instagram DMs; Mike plugs the Venmo, and Boova jokes about the first annual boovathon.

The three Mike Fusts

Mike tells how he found three Mike Fusts on social media: himself, a furious German Mike Foust, and a Wisconsin Mike Foust who has claimed every email address; his youth group kids carried the German's photo around for a year and a half to disapprove of things he said.

Boova's real last name: Engeldinger

Boova reveals his real last name is Engeldinger, not 'Buva,' and tells of being added to an Engeldinger Facebook group run by Natalie, a German fashion designer who invited him to a Berlin show — which turned out to be an S&M collection he immediately exited.

Wrap-up: 'be faithful, God will handle the ends'

With everyone getting the wiggles after a 'barn burner' of a show, Ben closes by repeating the complaint line number, asking for honest podcast reviews 'as a warning to those who might otherwise click on the link,' and signing off: 'be faithful means God will handle the ends.'