This story is not meant for six-year-olds, but it is meant for us, though we should hardly handle it.
Despite how deep Habakkuk sank into doubt and despair, his faith was not entirely lost. He was merely taking his doubts where they belonged: to the Lord.
Decisionalism expects you to raise yourself through a choice, but Scripture says only Christ raises the dead.

All Articles

by Fredrik Sidenvall, translated by Bror Erickson
The dragon who failed to devour the child in the manger swallows the man atop the cross. In so doing, unbeknownst to this beast, he ate poison.
I take out the broom, spray bottle, and trash can. For the hundredth time this week, I find myself sweeping up the mess of a Christmas to come.
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.
On the television show Portlandia—a satirical comedy centered on hipster culture in Portland, Oregon—one episode highlights a conversation between the characters as Carrie and Alexandra look through Fred’s endless photo album of the places he’s traveled.
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.
Have you ever grown despondent from trying so hard to stop behaving in certain destructive ways, but always failing?
This time of year, Christmas time, the world isn't so much Christ-expectant as it is Christ-haunted.
Sometimes we try be the bad god, sometimes the good god, oftentimes a freaky hybrid of both. The result is the same: Jesus the savior just gets in our way.