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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Thankfully, our heavenly Father sent a Champion into the game to take our place. What we failed to do, He accomplished.
God the Father Almighty is good. And He must be good in ways that surpass my earthly father.
Cindy’s tragedy was that she was blind to the Christ from whom all her good gifts came.
I looked up at the cross and saw what God had become to bring me home. He had become what I was.
Surely everyone reading at one time or another in their lives has heard the popular phrase I’m writing about today.
As it turned out, the novels in which I had sought escape, became part of the means whereby the Lord rescued me from my own death.
So what's the back side? What's the promise? We shall not have other gods, but we do have the one, true God—the promise of a God for us.
The manna God provides is never tasty enough. God never lives up to your expectations. So silently or audibly you wish for an easier way.
The mother of this prophet is visited by the Mother of God. In the coming together of these two pregnant women, we see the coming together of the old and the new.
700 years before the first Noel, the prophet Isaiah prophesied that Christ would bear our grief and deliver us in grace. Scholars often refer to Isaiah 52:13-53:12 as the "fifth gospel" because it describes both that Christ was crucified and why Christ was crucified with incredible detail.
We are like the spoiled children of kings who spit in the face of paupers on the street. We have been given so much, yet we treasure so little.
He loved me, to be sure, but in a very nondescript, emotionally detached way, which is the way my grandfather loved him.