The Antichrist offers another continual presence. It is every whisper that tempts us toward autonomy, that tells us to carry it alone, that insists suffering is meaningless.
He is the God who always is, whose Word is true, and never fails. He is a God who acts and always does what he says he’s going to do.
Election is not a riddle to solve. It’s a pillow to rest your head on at night.

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One of the common things I see my congregants struggle with is the concept of forgiveness. Contrary to what I had assumed would be the case, I find congregants don’t struggle so much with giving forgiveness as they do living with forgiveness.
Whatever level of sin you're rummaging around in, forgiveness and grace is yours.
Today, people often bemoan the loss of children in the church.
Their love story was a long time in coming. He was 82 and she 74. And this was the first, and the last, marriage for both.
We have now reached a point where many believe so strongly in individualism that nothing else matters.
A single, fifteen minute sermon that proclaims Christ and him crucified for you is more important than hundreds of hours of lectures by experts on revitalizing your ministry.
Salvation starts in being a sinner and knowing it because that's where God starts salvation, in making "Him to be Sin who knew no sin."
The preacher does not merely send out the raven. From the pulpit flies forth the dove of the Gospel.
I grew up with a great deal of guilt. It still keeps me up at night. For one reason or another, I was convinced I hadn’t done enough to be loved by God.
It is the strangest of morgues—people arrive dead as doornails and leave alive.
In his Gospel account, Luke challenges us to play "Where is Jesus?"
So it is with my little garden as well; dead, so it would seem. Nothing. Barren.