This summer, I finally decided to open a book my mom gifted me last year called Where the Crawdads Sing. Since it is one of the best-selling books of all time and has a theater debut in July, it went from the bottom of my bookshelf to the top of my summer fiction reading list. […]
Yet, though already reigning King, Jesus will come again to rule and reign in full. Into our world of darkness of fog, he will return and dwell with us and reign over us.
True strength is not found in the gritting of teeth or clenching of fists, but in the willingness to lay down at the foot of the cross and trust God as we choose the course of kindness.
It’s actually a huge grace for God to allow his children to experience fear – otherwise we might be overwhelmingly passionless, stupidly courageous, proud, and arrogant.
You’re not responsible for understanding all the depths of theology today; you’re called to simply be intellectually faithful.
If grace gives a kind word or a gentle smile, we would certainly be smitten. But if grace did something more, something unheard of, we would certainly be in love.
He could take away the gift of choice and rid His creation of both dignity and despair. But instead, He demonstrated love in its highest form.
The novelist can instruct the theological reader about the inherit relationship between the ontology and functionality of a piece of literature.
Christ’s cosmic display of love—the redemption of sinners—is not the tale of love in general.
For those of us living in the twenty-first century, how one understands the relationship of their faith in Christ and their obedience to Christ makes all the difference for living a life of joy and God-glorifying freedom.