The confessors at Augsburg remind us that every generation of Christians is called to bear witness to the gospel amid the challenges and pressures of its own age. As they confessed Christ before emperors and kingdoms, so the Church continues to confess Him before the world today.
When Jesus washes you with baptismal water, you can rest assured that the Lion of Judah is on the move.
The life we are trying to manage, improve, and secure is not something to be mastered. It is something to be surrendered. And this is where everything changes. Because in Christ, the approval we are seeking has already been spoken.

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Our regrets and anxiety, self-abuse and addictions, violence and endless lists are signs that we don’t have an answer to the question: "Why am I here right now, alive, existing?"
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.
Her importance goes beyond simply managing the reformer’s household.
The following is an excerpt from “A Year of Grace: Collected Sermons of Advent through Pentecost” written by Bo Giertz and translated by Bror Erickson (1517 Publishing, 2019).
While we are promised that God will always be with us, we are also told of the benefits that can come to us even in our pain.
All creation joins together to repeat the sounding joy.
Most days, we're not okay. We're not good enough, strong enough, or "Christian" enough.
Jesus isn't just "the reason for the season." He's the reason we don't have to cross off "spiritually bankrupt," "mentally compromised," and "physically vulnerable" from our Christmas list.
Our brokenness cuts deeper than just the times when we recognize it needs to be fixed.
It seems too good to be true, and yet it is the truest of all truths. This is our God. This God sees and chooses to trample our sins under his feet.
God does not combat the impending armies of Satan with might and power, but with the weakness of a babe.
I can only disbelieve you or believe you. If I disbelieve you, I go on being a miserable bore.