We can bring our troubles, griefs, sorrows, and sins to Jesus, who meets us smack dab in the middle of our messy mob.
Confession isn’t a detour in the liturgy. It’s the doorway.
American religion did not become optional because the gospel failed. It became optional because religion slowly redefined itself around usefulness.

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It seems like the sky is falling every other day now. From politics to culture to religion to about anything else, there’s one purported cataclysm after another on the horizon.
Show me. If I’m going to believe, I need to be convinced—on my terms.
This had been a lonely year, though. She could keep herself busy for a while with friends and she could distract herself for a few weekends by leaving town, but something was definitely missing.
Inside our heads is a courtroom where our whole lives are put on trial. And we are declared guilty of things. Big things, little things. God things, human things. True things, false things. We never can measure up.
Looking at our dining room table most days, you might think we were running a cartoon factory out of our house. Drawings. Everywhere.
He finds the woman and the man in the Garden and fought back for the identity of His people.
In our time Christ has not left us bereft of unbroken signs of His promised return.
The side of God he has made known to us is Jesus. He is the one and only revelation of the Father, the one and only revelation we need.
He holds you tight and loves you even as you weep and fight in his arms. His Son suffers alongside you as your brother in the flesh.
It is often the case that when dealing Divine, we find ourselves befuddled. For as relatable and surprisingly vulnerable God is as the man Jesus, he seems, at times, to retain a certain aloofness, a type of distance.
We can leave all the stuff of life behind, because our great treasure God flaunts before the world on Calvary.
A promise was made to my older brother roughly 50 years ago. He was just an infant and had no idea that this promise was being set upon him.