The Church speaks not with the cleverness of men, but with the breath of God.
I always imagined dying a faithful death for Christ would mean burning at the stake. Now, I suspect it will mean dying in my bed of natural causes.
How many times in our lifetime must we sigh, floundering through this world with our sins, sorrows, struggles, frustrations, fears, and foes?

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This is Christmas. It is Jesus becoming all sin from generation to generation.
Praying this prayer every day reveals this painful truth, I am guilty in need of forgiveness every day.
It turns out the family trait of not being able to wait runs deep and wide in the family of God. We do foolish things while we wait for promises to be fulfilled.
We do not believe that the virgin mother bore a son and that he is the Lord and Savior unless I believe the second thing, that he is my Savior and Lord.
It wasn’t a perfect image, but it was still there, even in its cartoonish movie magic distortion. It was an element of the Gospel right there in front of me.
God sent his Son down into the hidden places of our dark and dirty world to find us, and to the cross to wipe away our sins forever. That is what this story is all about.
"Come to me, all you who are weary of being you, and simply be mine."
We have needs every day, but we also need a daily reminder that God loves us and he wants us to depend on him for our everyday stuff.
It's not always the giants, the obvious enemies, the clear battlefields that prove most exhausting and dangerous for us. It’s the ongoing, subtle, seductive, soul-gnawing smaller things in life that wear us down. What's a person to do?
Jesus does not seek out Peter to condemn, but to restore his precious lost sheep, His dearly loved prodigal son.
To a world enslaved to time (because it has no future), the Church's disregard for clocks and calendars is ridiculous.
Bearing fruit is wonderful, but you do not stay a Christian through fruit-bearing. You bear fruit and are growing because you are united to Christ.