Illness is not romantic. It is not a test, a metaphor, nor a blessing in disguise.
The unity of God’s people is grounded not in lineage nor land but in the promise of the coming Christ.
I find myself returning to the Nicene Creed this Advent season

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There is no pain like the pain of being mistreated by those who, above all others, you expect to love you unconditionally.
What we see in the face of this God is not a loathing expression. We find the face of a compassionate man who knew all about shame himself.
No, when the Lord is ready for battle, of all creatures, he commissions Mary’s little lamb.
I became like God’s child David, whom the Lord pardoned of his adultery and murder. I became like Noah, Abraham, Judah, Aaron, Gideon, and so many more wayward children.
I have my list. It may seem strange to you, but, when I think about my own death, I often think in terms of positive failures.
We're of little faith. Or rather, we have big faith, but it’s in something else. Our faith is in our ability to control situations, manipulate them to our advantage.
Faith does not require that we always Hoorah what the Lord does. God wants children, not brown-nosers.
When Simon the Pharisee got his holier-than-thou panties in a wad over what this woman was doing, Jesus insulted him by pointing out how much a better host this prostitute was than he was.
He has wandered away into the darkness of his doubting, got lost in his grief, confused by the pains he’s suffered. It happens. Shepherds sometimes become lost sheep as well.
Today the Spirit whom unfaithful David prayed the Lord would not take from him Pours himself into sinners that they might sing of the faithful love of their Husband.
The reason that anyone would choose a heaven without Jesus, or happiness without Jesus, or healing without Jesus, is because he doesn’t mean that much to them to begin with.
O dry bones, hear the word of the Lord. Thus he says to these bones. Behold, I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live.