My back hurts almost all the time now. It starts when I wake up. I turn on my left side to stop the alarm from waking my wife and notice the slight twinge of discomfort. If I am not careful, laying there on my pillow with my head tilted the wrong way will prepare me […]
Just as a Leonardo worked on the Mona Lisa (and, in fact, many of his other paintings—he was a meticulous procrastinator and denier of deadlines), so too is God working on us all our lives.
This real world is the one to which Jesus came. Jesus entered our humanity. He became one of us, taking on flesh and blood, partaking of the same things as you and me.
If anyone knew what it meant to grow weary of doing good, it was the Apostle Paul. So how can he say flatly, “Let us not grow weary of doing good”? What kept him going?
Lewis is right. We don’t need friends. But his point is just the opposite: we actually do. Friends are the most wonderfully unnecessary necessity.
There may be a time when you too must run for your life. If so, there is a king who has stooped low, and if you run to him, you shall be in safekeeping.
Placing our hope in the promises of God apart from the person of God ensures disappointment. Misplaced hope is a terrible thing to live with. But placed in the crucified hands of Jesus, hope holds us up because Jesus holds us up.
If we are to build and maintain gospel-centered churches, we must allow the gospel to make us honest people. Why? Because total honesty is the only way we grow.
God’s fatherhood capacity has no limit.
The God of the Bible asks us to be convinced of one thing only—that he is God who saves.