If Adam had a business card, it would have read “Gardener.” Nothing exciting there. And yet the words God used to describe his job are anything but ordinary.
Coming face to face with the reality that maybe it’s actually not going to happen for you.
By God’s grace, hopefully we are moving in the direction where we know ourselves more and yet think of ourselves less.
We live in the dual realities of what God has done and what He’s going to do; of the joy of salvation and the longing for redemption; of what is and what will be.
Don’t stop showing up, Christian. In fact, if you are doubting today, it’s the best time to show up again.
You must get this right.
Unity is not an end in itself.
While self-condemnation might come off as holy in our churchified contexts, the truth is that self-condemnation is more than a bad character trait; it’s sin in and of itself.
I feel her scratch my itching ears with her words, saying just what I wish I heard from the people around me. And here’s what she sounds like . . .
Suffering is the gift that no one wants, and yet God chooses to give sometimes nonetheless.
I have a sneaking suspicion that people like this, the ones that serve quietly and without fanfare, but with great faithfulness, are the true heroes in the kingdom of heaven.
Relationships are costly endeavors, and if you’re like me, it’s a battle many times to get passed that cost. But there is a phrase you can say to yourself that will help you embrace that cost, and it’s not as complicated as you might think.
There’s a funny thing that happens when God takes you on the long way – you actually become something, rather than just end up somewhere.
Let me take you back to Narnia for a second . . .
Let us not think that we can inconvenience Jesus with our cares and needs.
When I feel small, there is the gospel that reminds me that my size and worth is determined by that which was sacrificed for me.
Comparison makes it difficult to truly rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep. The gospel renews our minds and frees us up to truly love one another.
Sometimes the most courageous thing you can do is to stay right where you are.
We ask God for daily bread, always trusting that He knows what the bread for tomorrow will need to look like as well.
If you’re a Christian, knowing your personality is not your end game.
Every family devotion time isn’t a home run. Sometimes it’s a sacrifice bunt that you believe God will somehow use in the story of their lives. So we choose, by faith, not to be discouraged, but instead to believe in a God who is drawing our kids’ hearts to Himself.
When we come to pray, we can know we are not there alone.
Our worry isn’t about our circumstances; it’s about our hearts.
Christian leaders, consider this: you have been given stewardship, not ownership
What is the one thing pastors who write ought to remember?
What is the one thing the local church needs to get right in the 21st century?
Rather than backing God into a corner, the spiritual disciplines position us into a kneeling position.
We ask Michael Kelley, "What do too many churches get wrong about discipleship?"
We ask Michael Kelley to describe his writing process.
Why shouldn't we be afraid of mundane or boring things?
Why is marriage such a vital crucible for discipleship?
We sat down to ask Michael Kelley, "What did you learn about God while your son Joshua was battling cancer?"
What difficult thing in your life taught you the most?
Why do the books Christians buy the most tend to not be the best for them?
Confidence in God's sovereignty doesn't always mean hesitancy in moving forward. We wait, we trust, and sometimes, we move.
Their mettle will be tested. Their faith will be challenged. They will be pressured to succumb on any number of fronts.
You know the feeling. It’s the one when you find yourself surrounded by people who work more interesting jobs, take more interesting vacations, and live generally more interesting lives. Suddenly, you find yourself shrinking into yourself, very conscious of your normality in light of what’s surrounding you.
Like a kindergartner learning his numbers, so do we practice the discipline of counting . . .
The commands of Christ feel crushing without a new heart to help us obey.
I am, if you’ll excuse the metaphor, an intellectually fat Christian. My mind is obese with knowledge and bloated with facts. And as I loosen the belt around my heavily churchified brain more and more day by day, I wonder what would happen if my obedience kept pace with that knowledge.
If salvation is by faith alone, then every person we come in contact with is within a single moment of faith of being made a child of God.
God uses questions to force us to confront our own hearts.
We can freely come again and again to a Father who delights in being the best kind of giver.
You know the feeling as well as I do. There is someone who brings something to us – it’s an accusation, it’s a criticism, it’s a rebuke – it’s a whatever. We. Must. Respond. Curious, though, that Jesus did not feel the same need.
Christian, no one might know what internal fear, insecurity, or idolatry the Holy Spirit is convicting you of and walking you through. And because it’s internal, you might be tempted to put it to the side in favor of something seemingly more flashy and exciting. But don’t neglect His work. Embrace it. Because the storm is coming.
“I’m a private person,” we might argue. “It’s no one else’s business,” we might say. “It’s my cross to bear,” we might conclude. And yet, we cannot weep with each other if we never see or know that we are weeping.
It was a crisis of faith, born under the lights of Friday night Texas football.
If we are to follow Jesus, then we must have a growing understanding that the Christian does not operate in the realm of desperation.