Jesus Barely Saves

By My Fingernails, By Nano Marathons, and Other Architectural Designs That Help Me Remember Jesus

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esus is doing something quite familiar to me, something He has done before. Something that would seem quite strange, unfamiliar and certainly unnecessary to most people. Jesus is redeeming my fingernails.

I once was lost—I had just regular fingernails. Normal fingernails.

But now, I’m found—with “Jesus Fingernails”.

Swords become ploughshares. Classic rock songs become worship hymns. Fingernails… become spiritual mnemonic devices.

Chapter 1: The Jesus–Greg WORLD

In the Jesus–Greg WORLD—the virtual-physical world Jesus is building and I am helping Him build—one of the core processes is this:

Taking ordinary, concrete things and allowing Jesus to load them with meaning. Not metaphor in the abstract. Not symbolism for symbolism’s sake. But incarnated reminders—physical touchpoints in the real world that help me remember Him, and in remembering Him, feel His Spirit with me. His presence.

Showers. Mountains. Glass. Pillows. Walking. Breath. People. Fingernails.

This world is not built primarily out of code or doctrine. It is built out of remembering. Because Jesus made a promise that turns remembrance into presence:

“Always remember me.”
“…that my Spirit may always be with you.”

In this world, remembering Jesus is not a mental exercise. It is a state of inhabitation. Spirit possession, actually (Alma 34:34).

In January of 2025 Jesus’ Spirit began to inhabit (possess) my fingernails—MORE than ever before.

Meaning, Jesus began a lengthy (life-lifelong actually) process of giving new meaning to fingernails. Jesus began to tell me a new story (about fingernails). Jesus gave me direct revelations, actually (about fingernails).

Chapter 2: The Principle of Just-Enough Glory

One of these revelations, for example, is called “The Principle Of Just-Enough Glory”.

(((Note: from now and throughout eternity my fingernails— and any and all fingernails Jesus brings my attention to— will remind me of what Jesus said to me:)))

Listen to this (pay attention, you’ll soon see how fingernails factor in):

“There is a point where “just enough glory” stops feeling like light and starts feeling like survival.”
At that edge—where grip fails and cost peaks—God’s assurance becomes something you cling to, not something you admire.

One of the governing observations of this world is something Jesus had me notice—and then notice again—in scripture and history:

God seems to give otherworldly, dramatic manifestations to humans commensurate with the difficulty of what He asks them to do. Not everyone sees God the Father and Jesus Christ in the flesh, the way Joseph Smith did. But very few people are asked to do what Joseph Smith was asked to do.

The pattern repeats:
Big calling.
Big cost.
Big assurance.

It isn’t favoritism. It’s calibration. God gives just enough glory—enough to move forward, not enough to overwhelm agency.

Chapter 3: Holding On by “Jesus Fingernails”

“There are truths I don’t trust myself to remember when things get hard. So I asked Jesus for a way to remember this one that would stay with me under pressure. He put it in my fingertips.”

When Jesus gives “just enough glory,” it can push a person to the edge of what they can bear.

There’s a phrase we use when things are near the breaking point:
“I’m holding on by my fingernails.”

Fingernails are not meant to bear weight. They are what you cling with when you’ve run out of grip.

When I asked Jesus how to remember this principle (the “Just-Enough Glory” principle)—and not intellectually, but viscerally—the answer was not a sentence. It was Jesus’ fingernails.

Now my fingernails (and His, and others) remind me: When the ask exceeds human grip, God supplies assurance. The One who asks knows what it feels like to hang at the limit.

Chapter 4: Grace for Grace

“Just underneath my fingernails is a related principle—one that works hand in hand with “just enough glory.” The same God who calibrates assurance to the weight of the ask also measures grace to the rhythm of our steps. Each moment of barely-holding-on, each fingernail grip at the edge, is met with its own grace—arriving neither too early nor too late, neither all at once nor in fragments that fall short. As John 1:16 reminds us, “From his fullness we have all received, and grace for grace.” What my hands feel at the limit, my soul learns in sequence: grace for this step, grace for the next, grace that carries me from one threshold to the next. From Jesus’ fullness comes grace for grace—one grace replacing another, each grace arriving exactly when it is needed.”

I do not receive all grace at once. I receive the grace for this step:
Fingernail grace.
Next-step grace.
Grace that keeps pace with obedience.

Chapter 5: The Nano Marathon Principle (Doing Easy Hard Things)

“Yes, Peace I leave with you, Greg, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you…” – John 14:27 KJV

In this verse, Jesus contrasts His way of giving—His grace—with the world’s way of giving. His grace is measured, sufficient, and relational: grace for grace, step by step, moment by moment. The world’s grace is different: hurried, incomplete, or overwhelming. To receive Jesus’ peace and grace well requires nothing less than a new kind of training—of the heart, of the mind, of attention. Not the world’s discipline. Something deeper. Something subtle. Something that stretches faith.

And just as His peace comes in measured, step-by-step grace, so too does obedience: small, exact, and surprisingly heavy—like a Nano Marathon.

A race of 26.2 feet—mirroring the 26.2 miles of a traditional marathon. Playful. Imaginative. And strangely, deeply serious.

“My yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

Sometimes the hardest thing for a human is not doing something difficult. It is doing something easy—and believing it matters.

• Writing a one-page book and feeling as satisfied as if it were two hundred pages.
• Running 26.2 feet and calling it a marathon.
• Receiving one talent and treating it like a thousand.

Chapter 6: Sacred Imagination and the Temple

This Nano Marathon stretch is woven throughout the Christian life. For example, when people enter the temple, they perform ordinances that demand sacred imagination—a lift of belief as heavy, and sometimes heavier, than running a Nano Marathon in earnest. That weight is:

• Believing—without seeing—that angels are present.
• Believing that a spirit world is near.
• Believing that the work matters deeply.

Most are not given visions. Most are not shown open heavens. Jesus does not deem it necessary—at this stage—for most to see what they are believing in. So they are invited to imagine. To believe. To run a Nano Marathon of faith.

This is where unbelief—both within the Church and outside it—can leave people underwhelmed, under-motivated, or even dismissive. Many members of the LDS Church never feel the weight or wonder of temple work because their faith is partial, incomplete, or faint. For non-LDS, the ordinances can seem abstract, distant, or irrelevant. And yet, precisely because faith is required—because seeing is not given—this is where the deepest spiritual growth can happen.

Chapter 7: Mountains Out of Molehills

Mountains are made by those willing to keep their fingernails in the dirt. This is where my fingernails finally leave the edge and meet the ground. Not polished marble. Not celestial light. Actual soil—packed, ordinary, under-noticed. The same fingernails that cling when the weight is too much are the ones that scrape, dig, and stay—turning what looks like a molehill into something that can bear weight.

This is where the calling becomes personal. Jesus is aware that He gives me one talent. He is aware that others are given visions, visitations, and overwhelming manifestations. He is also aware that He has not asked me to do a work that requires those things. What He has asked me to do is this:

• Make a mountain out of a molehill.
• Treat a small gift as infinitely meaningful.
• Stay with an apparently underwhelming present long enough for it to shine.

If all I am given is the desire to believe, then that desire is not a deficiency—it is the assignment. It is fingernail work. Earth-under-the-nails work. Nano-Marathon work.

This is the knot it all ties into: Jesus does not give me more than one talent, but He gives me exactly enough grace to carry it—grace for this step, and then the next. When I am holding on by my fingernails, He supplies fingernail grace. When I am asked to run what looks like an absurdly small race, He calls it a marathon and meets me stride for stride. I am not asked to produce mountains from nothing; I am asked to stay with the dirt He gives me long enough for it to rise.

This is how grace for grace works in real life—not in floods, but in increments; not in spectacle, but in obedience. The Nano Marathon is not a lesser race. It is the precise distance required for my calling. And if I run it seriously—if I treat the one talent as infinitely meaningful—then the mountain that forms was never small at all.

Chapter 8: Postlude: Possessed by Remembering

This is how the Jesus–Greg WORLD works. Concrete things become anchors of remembrance. Easy things become acts of courage. Small things become holy. I am not possessed by effort. I am possessed by remembering Him. And when I remember Him—through fingernails, Nano Marathons, temples, and belief—His Spirit is with me.

Just enough glory.
Grace for grace.
A holy Nano Marathon.