Christianity does not locate freedom in radical autonomy. It does not tell either men or women that happiness consists in escaping obligations arising from relationships we did not entirely choose.
Jesus never promised me a World Series championship. He never promised that my children would always succeed or that life would go according to plan. He promised something better.
In Jesus, God acted first, even when we were dead in our trespasses and sins (Eph. 2:5).

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Baptism does not promise us chocolates or flowers, but something far greater: life in Christ.
The Scriptures consistently speak about sanctification as a sure gift for the Christian.
Confession isn’t a detour in the liturgy. It’s the doorway.
This is the first in a series meant to let the Christian tradition speak for itself, the way it has carried Christians through long winters, confusion, and joy for centuries.
The crisis is not merely that people are leaving. The crisis is that we have relinquished what is uniquely Lutheran and deeply needed.
“Comfort, comfort my people, says your God.” That word isn't just for Israel; it's also for you.
To know the cure is not to become immune to sorrow.
This ancient “tale of two mothers” concerns far more than theological semantics—it is the difference between a God who sends and a God who comes.
Illness is not romantic. It is not a test, a metaphor, nor a blessing in disguise.
The unity of God’s people is grounded not in lineage nor land but in the promise of the coming Christ.
I find myself returning to the Nicene Creed this Advent season
Thanksgiving, then, is not just about plenty. It is about redemption.