God can handle grief, rage, and cries for justice. God can handle the victim who cannot yet forgive. God can handle the prayer that comes out jagged and wounded. The good news is that God is holy and merciful enough to handle all our prayers.
But while scholars are right to focus on the bond between Martin and Hans, the evidence of Martin’s own words suggests their relationship may not have been as troubled as some suppose. For Hans Luther was not a cartoon villain but a normal human being attempting to make his way in the world and raise his children to the best of his ability.
Jesus offers something infinitely better. He tells us to put down our gavel—not because sin isn't real, but because the only Judge who has the right to condemn is the very One who was condemned for us.

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My parents will be the first to tell you, I can really put my foot in my mouth. I often don’t say the right thing.
Luther contends that even our best spiritual, theological, and moral efforts are insufficient to save us.
God created Israel to be the vessel into which he would place both his Law and his Son.
As I came to read the Reformers, I found their words comforting. I started to hope again.
This book tells of my long and brutal journey. From married to divorced. From a seminary professor and pastor to a disgraced, bitter truck driver in the oil fields of Texas. From a man at war with God to a child redeemed by grace.
Rather than presenting Christ’s words as a rule or a threat, Luther reveals it to be the promise of God.
Jesus’ life and work is now ours through faith.
The cross presents us a radically different standard. In God’s justice executed in the cross of Christ, nobody gets what they deserve.
If you’re looking for a book of the Bible to blow apart works righteousness and justification by adherence to the Law, Galatians is the book for you.
Recovery helps us see beauty in the ordinary; the miracle and wonder of creation in the oak leaf or the evergreen needle.
The Sixth Sense is a suspenseful and scary movie where a little boy is born with the strange gift of seeing dead people.
The wound on my hand would not let me forget what happened. The crackled and blistered strip of skin was a memento of the searing pain I felt that day. For the remainder of that year, I was constantly reminded of what I had done.