The “further up and further in” we go, the table keeps getting bigger, the guest list keeps getting longer, and the grace keeps on flowing.
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.

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Seek moments of silence, and use them to listen and ponder.
Christianity doesn’t start with our speculation about God. It starts with God’s self-revelation.
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.
It is death that deserves derision, not the disciple who reaches through sorrow for his Lord.
Illness is not romantic. It is not a test, a metaphor, nor a blessing in disguise.
I find myself returning to the Nicene Creed this Advent season
This is an excerpt from this year’s 1517 Advent Devotional.
The Christian answer to death is not a disembodied app, but a bodily resurrection.
All Saints’ Day is a war story. And in Christ crucified and risen, it’s also a victory story.
Why did the church dedicate a day to St. Michael anyway? Who is he, and what does he do?
To confess Christ crucified and risen as the only hope in a world that has lost its mind to wickedness and rage.
Why reflect on these three men — MacArthur, Ozzy, and Hulk Hogan — in the same breath?