Pride builds identities that leave no room for grace.
We can willingly admit the fact that we're just like tax collectors and thieves.
There has never been an opportune moment to put all your trust, faith, and hope in God.

All Articles

The following is an excerpt from Chad Bird’s new book, Your God Is Too Glorious: Finding God in the Most Unexpected Places (Baker Book, 2018).
Growing up in church I did not often hear the word “grace” uttered unless it was accompanied by the word “cheap” and said in a disapproving tone with a disdainful look.
Jesus lives amidst the twisted metal and smoking ruins of lives gone bad. It’s where he does his best work. Christ is the ultimate first responder.
Dual narratives are unfolding in our lives at every moment. There’s the story we’re writing, and the one penned by the Spirit.
The pastor declares it. We receive it. The forgiveness of sins. It’s a simple thing.
A heart that wants nothing that is not from God can only occur by the Holy Spirit speaking the Gospel into our hearts.
We are dangerously good at focusing on our exciting, or boring, walk of faith.
When I was a boy, I wanted to be a trashman. Little did I know that I would grow up to need a God who was a trashman.
Yes, but. It's a phrase I find myself repeating often in life. When my husband asks for forgiveness, I too often respond, "I forgive you, but…” and then continue with a list of my grievances.
Only the poor are in need of a Savior, and only the dead need faith, hope, and love delivered to them by the hand of the Almighty.
God knows our need. He knows how it is to raise unruly children. He is very experienced in dealing with rebellion.
While I was still an over-eager seminarian the professor warned me, “Mr. Riley, this is exciting stuff.