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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Illness is not romantic. It is not a test, a metaphor, nor a blessing in disguise.
When we fail, our first impulse is the same as that of our spiritual ancestors: to sprint headlong into the bushes.
Something Reformation Christians ought to do is familiarize themselves with Roman Catholic theology.
The Reformation isn’t just a chapter in church history. It’s a reminder that the gospel remains forever good news.
Grace isn’t fair. It’s reckless and lavish and handed out freely to those who don’t deserve a thing.
The Protestant milieu was pervaded with the announcement that God and God alone is the active agent in the salvation of sinners.
We can lay down our sledgehammers of moralistic performance, which aren’t effective anyway, and we can trust that we are his and his life is ours.
Faith takes God at his word and holds his promise to be true for me because I know God would not lie to me.
You’re permitted to call on “Our Father, who art in heaven” at all hours of the day and night with whatever you like.
Here is the true story, the one worth remembering: You are a gift.
For those with faith in Christ, there is always a happy ending.
Tetzel peddled righteousness for gold, but God gives it freely through faith in his promised Word, the person and work of Jesus Christ.