When you step into the Lord’s house, he gives you a liturgical imagination to see with eyes of faith all of his goodness and grace.
The thief is the prophetic picture of all of us, staring hopelessly hopeful at the Son of God, begging to hear the same words.
The Solas are not just doctrinal statements. They are the grammar of Christian comfort.

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According to Martin Luther, it is human nature is a little like a drunkard trying to ride a horse.
The story did not end with Jesus' death and resurrection, or even with the Acts of the Apostles.
He barely wakes to find himself nearly dead; even so, he can’t feel a thing.
Salvation starts in being a sinner and knowing it because that's where God starts salvation, in making "Him to be Sin who knew no sin."
God’s Son is infinitely more than our fragile egos have flattened him out to be.
The truth is, a Christian's holiness is hidden outside himself in Christ through faith.
Hers is not a beauty of breathtaking cathedrals, stained glass, or towering arches, but of a body.
It is the strangest of morgues—people arrive dead as doornails and leave alive.
My eyes soaked in the midnight view. Stars crowded the sky.
Old Testament narratives foreshadowed the gifts that our Father gives us in baptism.
The question is not can I lose my salvation, but can salvation lose me? No, it can’t.
It's coming. Can you feel it? It's creeping up on us like a quiet predator. It's hiding behind the Christmas trees and stockings hung with care. It's getting ready to strike.