Paradoxes hold everything together, not just in Inception’s plot, but in your life and mine.
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.

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There are so many reasons why the Good News is such good news; but, for me, one near the top of the list is the relief of being able to tell the truth. It is so refreshing to be given permission to ‘call a spade a spade.
These words sum up the whole person and work of our Messiah. Here is the Gospel in Hebrew.
The pirates spent their lives seeking after the treasure and after finally attaining it, they discover that it was cursed. Instead of satisfying their empty souls, it only intensified their cravings.
A star appears in the East. A spotlight over its Creator. A single constellation bows over that Light of Light from whom darkness flees.
The manna God provides is never tasty enough. God never lives up to your expectations. So silently or audibly you wish for an easier way.
Ah, the New Year. It’s the stuff of resolutions. To be better. Do better. Live more healthful. And yet, year after year, we never quite change as much as we hope. Entropy is still a scientific fact.
There are so many paradoxes that we can appreciate as we seek to grasp more of the meaning of the miracle of Christmas.
We all love a good story when the underdog comes out on top. We love Rocky winning the title round, Hoosiers taking the championship, Luke Skywalker blowing up the Death Star, and yes, even Rudolph guiding Santa’s sleigh in the fog.
The mother of this prophet is visited by the Mother of God. In the coming together of these two pregnant women, we see the coming together of the old and the new.
As I remember these stories of the other side of Christmas—where it’s not a wonderful life, where there’s no joy to the world, where silent nights are interrupted by screams and sobs and cursing and gunshots—I remember that this other side of Christmas is precisely why there is a Christmas in the first place.
He loved me, to be sure, but in a very nondescript, emotionally detached way, which is the way my grandfather loved him.
I could’ve stopped it, but I didn’t. I'm surprised that I didn’t turn my back to receive a pat as I let loose from lips, how good and saintly I was. What a reminder, that we are all susceptible to looking for the adulation of others.