God leads us to green pastures. He comforts us with his grace in our darkest valleys.
Christian spirituality is not a flight from the world, but a deep dive into its brokenness.
At the end of the day, what do you want to be known for? Your opinions, or your Savior?

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Who are we if neither vice nor virtue will make us whole?
Although human reason pretends to understand a great deal about work and word of God. The glory of it is too bright, the longer he beholds it the blinder he becomes.
Faith Alone is a translation of Bo Giertz’s second novel, which was originally titled Tron Allena.
Miracles, for all their wonder and encouragement, rely on the dazzling of our senses to work. Because miracle-faith produces sensory-faith, it is of a poor quality.
Your prayers are not what make you acceptable in his sight. You have already been made acceptable through the blood of Christ.
There is no justification except by faith alone. The radical forgiveness itself puts the old to death and calls forth the new.
“Rembrandt goes so deep into the mysterious that he says things for which there are no words in any language.”
He is not ashamed to call us brothers and sisters, even as we curse and yell at him for not pleasing us with our pettish wishes.
There is a repentance that is anti-repentance, for it clings tightly to the sin over which it sorrows, because in that sorrow is its consolation. In this warped spiritual scheme, our anguish is atonement; shame is our absolution; tears are our baptism. We feel better knowing how bad we feel about our wrongs. But there is a much better way.
In Christ Jesus, through faith, we’ve received everything we need for our bodies and lives, and life eternal.
New normals are always sneaking up on us. Preachers ignore them to their peril and the peril of our hearers.
He is our gold. He is our pure garment. He is our healing. He is our sanity. He is our wholeness.