Let's Make Sense of it - Rev PD Yetman

08/19/2026

Let’s Make Sense of It: Equal Rights Don’t Take Anything Away

On August 18, 1920, Tennessee became the final state needed to approve the Nineteenth Amendment. That amendment said women could not be denied the right to vote because they were women.

Historian Heather Cox Richardson recently shared the history of that long fight. I want to credit her for the historical information that inspired this reflection.

What I keep thinking about is one simple question:

Why does giving someone an equal right make other people feel as if something has been taken from them?

Rights are not a pie. Giving another person a piece does not leave less for you.

A woman voting does not weaken a man’s vote. A Black person voting does not weaken a white person’s vote. A woman becoming a pastor does not take away a man’s calling.

Equality does not take away anyone’s rights. What it takes away is the idea that one group should always have more power than another.

Maybe that is what some people are afraid of.

The Nineteenth Amendment was an important victory, but it did not remove the barriers faced by every woman. Black women and many other women of colour were still prevented from voting through unfair laws, threats, and violence. It took another 45 years of struggle before the Voting Rights Act of 1965 provided stronger protection.

That law did not give people dignity. Their dignity was always there. The law forced the country to begin recognizing it.

I think about this when I look at women in ministry.

I have attended conferences where someone pointed to a panel of eight men and two women and said, “Look at our diversity!”

My first thought was: Seriously? We have to celebrate the fact that two women were allowed on the stage?

Even in churches that say women can be pastors, women are often guided toward children’s ministry or supporting roles. There is absolutely nothing lesser about children’s ministry. Helping shape the next generation is important and sacred work.

But here is my question: If that work is so valuable, why is it so often unpaid or underpaid?

Why is it frequently done by a volunteer or by the pastor’s wife, who may have just as much education and experience as her husband? Why does one ministry role receive a salary, authority, and recognition while another is treated as something women should simply do out of love?

I have also heard people argue that women are valuable because they give birth. Yes, women carry life, and that is powerful. But a woman’s value cannot depend on whether she becomes a mother.

Women deserve equal rights because women are human beings.

Today, some Christian nationalist pastors and thinkers are talking about replacing individual voting with one vote for each household. But who would cast that vote? The husband? The property owner? The so-called “head of the household”?

What happens when a husband and wife disagree? What happens to a single woman, a widow, or a woman trapped in an abusive marriage?

A family may share a home, but its members do not share one mind. Every adult has a conscience, a voice, and a life affected by the decisions of government.

No one should have to surrender that voice to someone else.

Sometimes people tell me they do not vote because they do not care enough to learn about the issues. That is hard for me to understand. Being able to walk away from voting is itself a privilege. It assumes the right will always be waiting when you decide you want it.

History tells us that rights can be denied. They can be weakened. They can be taken away when people stop paying attention.

So perhaps we need to ask ourselves some uncomfortable questions:

Why does equality feel threatening?

Why do we praise women for serving but resist letting them lead?

Why do we call women’s work valuable while refusing to pay them fairly?

And if someone were debating whether we deserved a voice, would we be comfortable staying silent?

These are not questions we should answer quickly. We need to sit with them. We need to learn, listen, vote, speak up, and peacefully protest when necessary.

Giving another person the same rights I have does not make me less free.

It simply makes us equal.

Historical background and inspiration: Heather Cox Richardson, “August 18, 2026.” The reflections and opinions expressed here are my own.

Today I’m sharing “I Am Woman” by Helen Reddy. It felt like the perfect song to go with this reflection.

As you read, perhaps it will remind you of a song, article, story, or personal experience. If it does, I would love to hear about it. Please share it in the comments so we can all listen, read, learn, and think together.

Rights are not pie. Giving someone else equality does not make the rest of us less equal.

Let’s make sense of it.

Go with God, and always be spicy.

Your incurably curious,
Rev P. D. Yetman

Helen Reddy "I Am Woman" official remastered 4K video from the albu...

08/18/2026

What If We're Asking the Wrong Questions?

How do you know that what you believe is true?

Not why you believe it, but how do you know?

Where did you first hear it? Who taught it to you? Have you ever seriously looked for information that might prove you wrong?

And here's the question I've been wrestling with: What if we're asking perfectly reasonable questions, but starting with the wrong assumptions?

The other day, while volunteering at a memory-care home, something happened that sent me down this rabbit hole. I've been volunteering there for roughly a year, give or take, so the environment isn't new to me.

At breakfast, I sat with people who smiled, said good morning, asked how I was doing and talked about ordinary things. One person and I talked about the weather, because we're Canadian, and apparently that's required. We talked about how cold, grey days can affect our moods.

If I hadn't known where I was, I wouldn't necessarily have known that this person was living with significant cognitive impairment.

About half an hour later, everything changed.

They needed to get home. Where were the keys? Where was their spouse? How could they get out? Why did the hallways keep going in circles?

By mid-morning, another resident had joined the mission, and I couldn't help thinking of Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys. They walked the halls, asked questions and searched for people who might have answers. When one explanation didn't work, they developed another.

They were problem-solving, gathering information and trying to make sense of their world with the information available to them.
I wondered whether I should intervene. Should I say, You don't need your keys. You live here? But what purpose would that serve? Even accurate information might be forgotten moments later.

And that's when I started thinking about us.

I'm not comparing dementia with political or social beliefs. They aren't remotely the same thing. But there is something deeply human underneath this: our brains try to make sense of the information available to us.

Sometimes that information is incomplete. Sometimes it's wrong or deliberately framed. Sometimes we've heard something so many times that we've stopped recognizing it as an idea and started experiencing it as fact.

Who taught us who to blame?

Look around. Who gets blamed when housing becomes unaffordable, healthcare is overwhelmed, groceries cost too much, people can't find jobs, taxes rise, or a country feels like it's changing too quickly?

We tend to blame:

Immigrants.
Government.
Poor people.
Rich people.
Corporations.
Conservatives.
Liberals.
Women.
Men.
People receiving benefits.

Pick your political tribe, and you'll probably find a villain.
But who decided where we should be looking?

Governments, political parties, media, corporations, religious institutions, and social media algorithms all influence the stories we hear. That doesn't mean everything is propaganda or that everyone is lying. It means we need to be aware of how easily our attention can be directed.

Take our obsession with people who "cheat the system."

Does misuse happen? YES. Some people deliberately abuse government programs.

But how big is the problem?

A quick Google search gave me some basic information. In 2024–25, Canada identified about $279 million in fraudulent EI overpayments. That sounds enormous, until you discover it represented about 1% of the $23.3 billion in EI benefit expenses that year. According to the federal government, 99.9% has either been recovered or is expected to be recovered.

Then I kept Googling.

The Canada Revenue Agency estimates that Canada's gross federal tax gap was $59.5 billion in 2022, although that figure includes various forms of unpaid taxes and non-compliance, not simply deliberate fraud.

At the end of 2025, the wealthiest 20% of Canadian households held 65.7% of Canada's total net worth, while the bottom 40% held just 3%. Globally, the World Inequality Report estimates that the richest 10% own about 76% of household wealth, while the poorest 50% own about 2%.

Those numbers don't tell me who the villain is. They make me ask whether I understand the scale of the problems I'm angry about.

Because sometimes you don't have to lie to influence people. You can simply keep showing them one problem until it feels like the biggest problem.

And while we're looking over there, what aren't we looking at?

Why can someone receiving a few thousand dollars they weren't entitled to make us furious, while numbers involving billions barely hold our attention?

Maybe someone abusing the system is greedy or dishonest. But could "working the system" sometimes also become a survival skill? What happens when people spend generations learning how to survive within systems that haven't been particularly good at helping them thrive?

That doesn't excuse dishonesty. It makes the question more complicated.

And complicated questions don't fit very well into political slogans.

Recently, I heard a song I hadn't really listened to in decades: Elvis Presley's 1969 recording of Mac Davis's “In the Ghetto.” I remembered the song, but I don't think I understood it when I first heard it at 12 years old.

The song follows a child born into poverty in Chicago. He grows up hungry and angry, eventually becomes involved in crime and violence, and dies. As his life ends, another baby is born into the same circumstances, and the cycle begins again.

At 61, I heard that song very differently. I wasn't thinking about the angry young man at the end. I was thinking about the baby at the beginning. At what point did that child become the problem? Was it when he was hungry? When his mother couldn't provide? When he became angry? When he eventually hurt other people?

Of course people must be accountable for their actions. But if we're only interested in the person at the end of the story, what happened to our responsibility toward the child at the beginning?

That thought brought tears to my eyes.

What if we're getting angry at the outcome while refusing to look at what helped create it?

And now I have to push back against myself.

It's easy for me to write this and think, Look at all those people who've been manipulated.

But the moment I do that, I've found another group to blame.

What if I've been influenced too?

Of course I have. So have you. We're human.

For decades, we've absorbed messages from parents, teachers, churches, communities, political parties, news sources, and now social media algorithms. When new information contradicts a framework we've carried for years, our first reaction may simply be: That's ridiculous.

Maybe it is.

Or maybe it doesn't fit what we've already learned to believe.

That's why I'm uncomfortable with the word brainwashed. It's too easy to imagine that manipulation happened to somebody else while I somehow escaped it.

I'd rather ask: What have I been taught not to question?

And that brings me back to the residents in that hallway.
They were asking questions: Where are my keys? Where is my spouse? How do I get home? The problem wasn't that they weren't asking questions. Their questions made sense based on what they believed was happening.

That's where Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys come back into this. You can be a fantastic detective. You can gather clues, interview witnesses and build an impressive case. But if you begin with the wrong assumption, you can become incredibly good at answering the wrong question.

Maybe that's why "do your own research" isn't enough.

Perhaps we also need to ask:

Why do I believe this is the problem?
Who taught me that?
What evidence would change my mind?
Whose perspective haven't I heard?
Who benefits from my anger?
Am I looking for information, or confirmation?

And here's the one that stings: Am I as curious about information that challenges me as I am about information that confirms what I already believe?

Yesterday, I wrote about artificial intelligence, and people offered perspectives I hadn't considered. I loved that, not because every perspective is automatically correct, but because someone could show me a window I didn't know existed.

That's why I invite comments. If I'm missing something, tell me. If an assumption doesn't hold up, challenge it. If you see this differently, tell me why.

Maybe making sense of this complicated world isn't about finally having all the answers.

Maybe it's about remaining curious enough to keep asking:

What am I missing?

The other day, I watched people walk a circular hallway searching for an exit they were absolutely convinced existed. I've been thinking about that ever since. Because perhaps the hardest question isn't whether somebody else is walking in circles.

It's this:

Where am I walking in circles and don't even know it?

What do you think?

Where are we asking the wrong questions?

And what am I missing in this one?

Go with God and always stay spicy.

From my incurably curious brain,
Rev. P.D. Yetman

Sources
Employment and Social Development Canada — Employment Insurance fraudulent overpayments and benefit expenses, 2024–25.
Canada Revenue Agency — Overall Federal Tax Gap Report.
Statistics Canada — Household wealth distribution.
World Inequality Report 2022 — Global wealth distribution.

In The GhettoWritten by Mac DavisRecorded in 1969 at American S...

08/17/2026

Would you rather leave home without your wallet…or without your phone?

Think about it.

For most of my life, forgetting my wallet meant turning around. Today? I’d probably turn around for my phone.

Last night, I went to a special showing of an Elvis documentary. When it came time to pay, I opened my purse and discovered I didn’t have a single dollar of cash.

No problem.

I pulled out my phone and e-transferred $20.

My phone holds my photos, directions, appointments, banking, books, communication and access to my money.

And I barely think about it.

Until someone says: Artificial Intelligence. Suddenly, the temperature changes.

AI is going to take our jobs.
AI is dangerous.
AI will control us.

Some concerns are absolutely legitimate. I have plenty of them myself. But this is where my spicy, pattern-seeking brain kicks in.

I start looking backward.

Have we been here before?

Imagine encountering the printing press when books were painstakingly copied by hand.

What happens to the people who copy manuscripts for a living? What happens when information that once took months to reproduce can suddenly be printed again and again?

The printing press didn’t just make books faster. It changed who could create, distribute and access information.

Sound familiar?

Then came the automobile.

Imagine seeing your first noisy “horseless carriage” rattling down a road built for horses.

What happens to carriage makers and stable workers?

What if this machine hits someone?

Who is responsible when it does?

Those weren’t foolish questions.

Jobs disappeared. People were injured and killed. Eventually we created licences, speed limits, insurance, seat belts, safety standards and rules for manufacturers and drivers.

But many of those safeguards came after we experienced the consequences.

And my brain sees the pattern again.

I took my first computer course at Memorial University of Newfoundland in 1982. We entered precise commands and printed on dot-matrix printers.

That was only 44 years ago.

Now my phone recognizes my face, calculates my route, filters my email, predicts what I might want to buy and lets me transfer money without touching a dollar bill.

Meanwhile, technology has transformed medicine and science too.

We’ve spent generations trying to understand diseases such as cancer. Today, artificial intelligence can assist medical professionals in detecting patterns in medical images and other data that may help identify disease.

Think about DNA.

If you were alive during the O.J. Simpson trial, you probably remember hearing endless explanations of DNA evidence because most of us were still trying to understand what it even meant.

Today?

“There’s DNA evidence” barely requires an explanation.

Investigators can sometimes use genetic genealogy to connect unidentified DNA to family networks. Scientists can even use DNA to estimate certain physical characteristics.

That still flabbergasts me.

And this is where I think the AI conversation becomes much bigger than technology.

I think it becomes a conversation about morality and responsibility.

Because if AI helps a doctor identify a cancer earlier, most of us would probably call that a very good use of technology.

But the same ability to collect, analyze and recognize patterns in enormous amounts of information raises serious questions about privacy, consent, surveillance and power.

The technology may be neither the hero nor the villain. What matters enormously is what human beings decide to do with it.

If I drive my car recklessly and cause an accident, I’m responsible for how I used the technology. But if my brakes fail because the manufacturer knowingly installed a defective part, responsibility changes.

So who becomes responsible when AI causes harm?

The developer?

The company?

The person using it?

The government responsible for regulating it?

Maybe all of them.

The printing press changed how we shared knowledge.

The automobile changed how we moved.

Computers changed how we processed information.

DNA technology changed what we can know about one another.

Smartphones changed how we communicate, shop, bank and navigate our lives.

And now AI is changing what we are capable of doing with all of that information.

My spicy brain looks at that timeline and sees one enormous difference:

Speed.

Human beings have always created tools before fully understanding what those tools would eventually change.

But this time, the distance between “Look what we’ve invented” and “Look what this has changed” is becoming incredibly small.

I don’t have the answers.

I have more questions.

And perhaps that’s exactly what we need right now, not another argument about whether AI is “good” or “bad,” but better questions about what responsible use actually looks like.

Can our morality, laws and wisdom evolve quickly enough to keep up with what we’re capable of creating?

I don’t know.

But my spicy brain isn’t going to stop asking.

What does yours think?

Let’s make sense of it.

Go with God, and always stay spicy.

From your incurably curious, Rev. P.D. Yetman

07/07/2026

I had to look twice this morning.

The Misunderstood Friendship reached #5 in Health Psychology eBooks on Kindle.

I’m honestly blown away.

When I wrote this book, I wasn’t trying to write another self-help book. I wanted to create a companion, a book that walks alongside people as they begin to understand themselves with greater compassion and curiosity.

One of the comments that has stayed with me came from a reader in her 80s. She told me she wished she’d had this book forty years ago. Yet as she read, she found herself looking back over her life with new understanding. She could finally make sense of why she reacted the way she did and see her story through a different lens.

To me, that’s what this book is about.

Not fixing yourself.

Not becoming someone else.

But understanding yourself well enough to become more fully the person you were created to be.

If you’re new here, welcome! Here at Let’s Make Sense of It, we explore faith, relationships, neurodivergence, and personal growth with compassion, curiosity, and hope. If those conversations resonate with you, I’d love for you to follow the page and join our growing community.

Whether you’re 15 or 85, you’re never too old to grow, to heal, or to see yourself with fresh compassion.

As a thank-you, I’d love to give you something in return.

If you’ve read The Misunderstood Friendship, leave a comment below, share this post, and send me a private message. I’ll send you a FREE downloadable PDF of my very first companion workbook:

The Misunderstood Friendship: A Biblically Based 30-Day Challenge. “ Begin where you are.”

It’s designed to help you take the ideas from the book and gently put them into practice, one day at a time.

Thank you for believing in this little book and for helping it find the people who need it most.

Go with God… And always stay spicy

From the incurably, curious— Rev. P.D. Yetman

If you haven’t picked up a copy yet, you can find it here:
https://a.co/d/0gO0N58H

07/07/2026

Thanks for being a top engager and making it onto my weekly engagement list! 🎉

I truly appreciate your support. Whether you comment often, quietly read along, or simply stop by from time to time, thank you for being part of this growing community.

If you haven’t subscribed to my Substack yet, I’d love to have you join the conversation there as well. That’s where I share my longer reflections and articles.❤️❤️

Christine Delfosse, Chris Stewart Benson, Katharine Staniforth, Shelley Stephens, CarlandEvelyn Brewer, Melody Trolly, Elizabeth Bragdon Brawn, Joyce Moore, Sonia Goyer, Ingrid Black

07/06/2026

Pull Up a Bench

What if there were a place where you didn’t have to have everything figured out?

Maybe you’re reading this over a cup of tea, waiting for an appointment, or stealing a quiet moment in the middle of an ordinary day. Wherever you are, I’m glad you stopped.

Life rarely grows in a straight line.

It grows in a spiral.

We return to the same questions, the same stories, and even the same struggles. But if we’re willing to keep learning, we don’t come back as the same people. We return with a little more wisdom, a little more compassion, and a broader perspective than we had before.

That’s what you’ll find here.

A park bench.

A place where thoughtful people ask honest questions, listen well, and make sense of life, Scripture, psychology, and the world around us.

We won’t always agree.

But we can listen.

We can learn.

And we can still love.

If you’ve ever found yourself thinking,

“I’ve never looked at it that way before…”

I have a feeling you’ll feel at home here.

Pull up a bench.

There’s always room for one more.

Let’s make sense of it… together.

Go with God… and always stay spicy.

The incurably curious,
Rev. P. Yetman

The Rules We Learn in Church

07/04/2026

What if some of the “truths” we grew up believing weren’t actually in the Bible, but were simply the stories we inherited?

Today’s article asks a question that has shaped centuries of Christian thinking:

Did Eve really ruin everything?

It’s the first in a five-part series, The Rules We Learn in Church Before We Ever Open the Bible. Each article stands on its own, but together they explore the assumptions we’ve inherited, and what Scripture actually says.

If you don’t want to miss the rest of the series, subscribe to my Substack. It’s completely free, and each new article is delivered straight to your inbox, no relying on Facebook’s algorithm.

Come join the conversation. I’d love to have you there.

Go with God, Let’s make sense of it
The incredibly curious Rev P

A series exploring the stories we inherit and the assumptions we absorb before we ever learn to read the Bible for ourselves.

07/03/2026

Have you ever stopped to wonder how much of what you believe came from reading the Bible… and how much came from the rules we learned in church before we ever opened it?

This is the first article in a new series I’ve been working on. My hope isn’t to tell you what to think, it’s to invite you to become curious with me. I’d genuinely love to hear your thoughts in the comments on Substack, and if you’d like to follow the rest of the series, subscribing is completely free.

The Stories We Inherit Before We Open the Bible

07/02/2026

What if the problem wasn’t that you were “too much”…
What if no one had the words yet to describe what they were seeing?

Curiosity has a way of replacing shame with understanding.

Go with God… and always stay spicy. 🌶️