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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Sometimes, I wish I was much older. Old enough to realize that my best, most influential, and productive days are behind me so that I could speak completely and openly about my life, my triumphs, and most of all, my struggles.
When it comes to faith, God runs all the verbs. God's Spirit calls us by the Gospel. He enlightens us with His gifts.
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.
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 preacher does not merely send out the raven. From the pulpit flies forth the dove of the Gospel.
The truth is, a Christian's holiness is hidden outside himself in Christ through faith.
I grew up with a great deal of guilt. It still keeps me up at night. For one reason or another, I was convinced I hadn’t done enough to be loved by God.
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.