What Israel’s story makes painfully obvious is that following the Lord is a lifelong lesson in “I believe, but help my unbelief” (Mark 9:24).
Faith holds on to the truth of who Jesus is revealed to be, despite our sometimes incongruent experience with God.
This is an excerpt from the first chapter of A Reasoned Defense of the Faith by Adam Francisco (1517 Publishing, 2026), pgs 1-3.

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Attacked by sin, robbed by Satan, lacerated by death—there we lay, unable to help ourselves. Yet He helps us who can never help ourselves.
It’s a miracle anyone believes the Gospel. It goes against everything else we believe in.
Why was Jesus crucified? Not to save victims, but to save sinners.
The dying words of Jesus were not, “Make it worth it,” but “It is finished.”
No, when the Lord is ready for battle, of all creatures, he commissions Mary’s little lamb.
A crisis of faith always occurs when we begin to believe that God has betrayed us.
I became like God’s child David, whom the Lord pardoned of his adultery and murder. I became like Noah, Abraham, Judah, Aaron, Gideon, and so many more wayward children.
I have my list. It may seem strange to you, but, when I think about my own death, I often think in terms of positive failures.
Stephen Fry, the English actor, author and game show host once disparaged the “grammar Nazis” who felt it necessary to enforce all the rules of language but who had forgotten, or just didn’t care, about the joy of language.
We're of little faith. Or rather, we have big faith, but it’s in something else. Our faith is in our ability to control situations, manipulate them to our advantage.
I'm in the middle of a series on Paul's letter to the Ephesians.
He has wandered away into the darkness of his doubting, got lost in his grief, confused by the pains he’s suffered. It happens. Shepherds sometimes become lost sheep as well.