Spy Wednesday asks us to look inward. It's the day the liturgical calendar acknowledges what we already know: we are not the best version of ourselves.
“Save us!” or “Deliver us!” That’s what “Hosanna” means. And that is exactly what Jesus did in the ER that dark Thanksgiving Day and every day for me.
Indeed, Jesus is our Father's answer to our Hosanna.

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I love books. I love authors. I love the way putting words down on paper incarnates ideas that might otherwise remain ghosts of the mind, flitting here and there in our gray matter.
Music is an inherent part of our humanity as image-bearers of God. And like all gifts, it is meant for the good of the receiver.
If you know me in the least, then you know of my fondness for the 2010 film Inception.
The flower of youth, as lovely as it is, cannot withstand the hot winds of time. There is a beauty, however, that remains.
Before long I was deeply involved in the trilogy (the reader is invariably "drawn into" the story in a unique way, and for a good reason as we shall see).
To forget ourselves is to remember another, that is, to act in such a way that benefits them. That’s the problem: we don’t.
Today, I almost died several times.
The Christian life is compared to many things throughout Scripture. It's likened to a soldier going to war, a sheep under the care of a shepherd, or the journey of a pilgrim to a far-off city.
The word which typifies my understanding of what makes male friendships so central to the concept of masculinity is philia.
God’s desire that all be saved led him to pay the price by which all are saved, all are justified.
Over the last 11 months I’ve spent the bulk of my time working to plant a church in New York City.
One of the things you get used to if you talk about this thing called “grace” often enough, is sooner or later you’ll be looked down on by your peers.