We don’t flinch at sin. We speak Christ into it.
One might say that the first statement of the Reformation was that a saint never stops repenting.
Wisdom and strength require bootstrap-pulling and the placing of noses to grindstones.

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Into the suffocating prison of sorrow, God sends his Breath, his Holy Spirit to help us. We may suffer, but we will not be alone.
We think that if we are good enough, brave enough, or at least if we try hard enough, we will be someone who can be both fully known and fully loved.
Should we really be surprised that it would happen this way, that the servant would suffer for our salvation and die for our forgiveness?
By every conceivable category, grace shouldn't exist. It shouldn't have been bestowed. It's the card in God's trick we never saw coming.
Most days, we're not okay. We're not good enough, strong enough, or "Christian" enough.
Our brokenness cuts deeper than just the times when we recognize it needs to be fixed.
God does not combat the impending armies of Satan with might and power, but with the weakness of a babe.
The Son of Eve disarmed Satan’s hold on humanity, not with an earthquake, atomic bomb, or brilliant essay, but with his dead body and final words, “It is finished.”
I can only disbelieve you or believe you. If I disbelieve you, I go on being a miserable bore.
We are still so much closer to Peter in our flaws than his virtues, and Christ is still our rescue.
If you want to boil Schleiermacher down to some foundation upon which to build up his theology, think feelings.
If someone confesses their sins into my ears, I have no options but to forgive them in the name of Christ.