Jesus is not a god that we can manipulate and mold. Christ is the true God, the one who is.
The most sober lesson we can learn from life’s caves is that all we have is a Person, one who never withers or distances himself from us, even though we are weak and languishing.
Your freedom does not depend on how well you live it. It rests entirely in him.

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We have heard of the man born to be king. Here in Bethlehem, by divine condescension, the King—the King of kings—is born to be man.
Jesus isn't Superman. He's not from another planet. He's from Earth.
God coming to us at Christmas encapsulates the essence of Christian faith: we don't make ourselves strong and then work our way up to a strong God.
He created us with an eye on recreating us. He made humanity in his image because one day he would assume that image. The Creator would become a creature while remaining Creator.
So it is with my little garden as well; dead, so it would seem. Nothing. Barren.
This time of year, Christmas time, the world isn't so much Christ-expectant as it is Christ-haunted.
We treat the Scriptures as if they’re our literary property to toy with as we please.
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.
What Jesus did and gives on these two Thursdays encapsulates his whole life and mission.
Should we consider the tomb of Jesus completely empty, or just somewhat empty?
On this night of nights, Christ arises victorious and sends the devil’s hordes running with no darkness to find cover; death’s dark shadow is gone
“Why do you seek the living One among the dead?” the angel asked the two women. The time for Jesus to die has passed.