Wisdom and strength require bootstrap-pulling and the placing of noses to grindstones.
“If the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed” (John 8:36).
How do the words “The righteous shall live by his faith” go from a context of hope in hopelessness to the cornerstone declaration of the chief doctrine of the Christian faith?

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O bloody town of Bethlehem, How shrill we hear thee cry. Your mothers shriek while fathers weep The graveyard lullaby.
News shocked the College football world back in August, when Cordell Broadus, four-star recruit to the UCLA football team, abruptly quit.
The guys Jesus chose to be His disciples have always fascinated me. The first two who were called into His posse were Andrew and John, friends who were just following a freak in the wilderness who was dressed in camel hair while eating locusts and honey.
Our Father does not bid us to turn inward, but outward, to the Son who is himself our unending Sabbath rest.
Jesus simply can’t help himself. Over and over in the Gospels we find Jesus leaving a wake of physical restoration.
This was one of the most haunting and soul tormenting verses in the Bible for me when I was growing up.
Why am I not surprised when people have a need to feel, touch or sense God in some tangible way? Part of it probably has to do with my church experience consisting of denominations that place a fairly strong emphasis on some form of tangible, experiential expression of God.
I stumbled down labyrinthine paths, crawled in and out of cavernous pits, got lost a million times, and somehow ended up a little farther down the road to healing. Yet in all those crooked lines I see the hand of God writing straight.
If you read my posts here or on my own site, you’ll find that most of my writings lean toward the issue of dark times or brokenness in our lives.
What about the question, “Are you a Christian?” Does this one belong to that second category, where we must explore our hearts, test our actions, focus inside ourselves to get to the right answer?
The lighting is fluorescent, the music is loud and heavy. There is a table in the corner with bottles of iodine, rubbing alcohol, and a biohazard container full of used needles.
If Abel’s blood is spilled all over the ground or if a mere speck had been lodged in the fabric of Cain’s shirt, that blood cries out. It has a voice and it will speak to whomever is willing to listen.