No matter how many times we hear this good news, it never stops being good news.
Our faith is precisely where Paul puts it, namely, in the blood of Christ.
Just as trick-or-treaters arrive at doorsteps as beggars, we come to the Lord’s table with nothing to offer but our sin and need for forgiveness.

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There’s something appealing about a caged deity.
The Lord has a special place in his heart for those whom the world forgets. For the anonymous. For the rejected.
If even your family has disowned and discarded you; yes, if every single person in this world regards you as a hopeless, embarrassing failure at life, the Father of all mercies does not.
If there’s going to be a celebration, why not celebrate fidelity, obedience, hard work?
I was excited and eager to start my journey. I was driving from NYC to Florida to attend the Christ Hold Fast Conference in Orlando, meet some dear friends, and make some new ones.
For many, there are days when they’re as excited about going to work on Sunday morning as you are about going to work on Monday morning.
Cindy’s tragedy was that she was blind to the Christ from whom all her good gifts came.
I looked up at the cross and saw what God had become to bring me home. He had become what I was.
Our faith is not a mountain but a grain of sand, not pure gold but gilded plaster. And all it takes is a few nicks and scratches to reveal its shallowness.
If April 1 is April Fools’ Day, then March 25 is Divine Fool’s Day. Falling nine months before Christmas, it’s the day when God set in motion what appeared to be a foolish plan.
She’s clad only in a white, wet, silk blouse, as if just caught in a downpour. Her back is slightly turned toward the camera, the curves of hip and breast beckoning the onlooker.
When you see a cross, you see the smile of your Father. He’s not mad at you. He’s overjoyed that you’re his daughter.