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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I wish I was better at seeing the bigger picture. Or maybe, I wish I was simply better at seeing the larger scope of its beauty.
“Boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl.” Those nine words could serve as the Bible’s subtitle.
Jesus and the New Testament—good. Yahweh and the Old Testament—not really so good. So goes the popular, but largely whispered, dichotomy.
This is the God of the Holy Scriptures. He is the one who repeatedly saves, always preserving his people by providing rescue in situation after situation...
I don't remember a time not knowing I was a sinner. Seriously, I've always understood that Christ died for me.
Overcrowding on Mount Everest betrays what our culture worships. We bow down at the altar of the impossible to be seen as the conquerors, the champions.
The gelded Gospel is shiny and attractive and compelling, and we can perform the procedure in any number of ways.
My ego just couldn't accept that I preached the Christian and him improved and not Christ and Him crucified.
Sometimes, the bible bores me. Sometimes, I take scripture, grace, and Jesus lightly.
Three of the most profound truths embedded in the fabric of the universe are that blood has a voice, blood cries out to God, and blood is heard by heaven.
I'm having one of those days. You know, the kind where you're filled with confusion, guilt, and fear? If you don't know what I'm talking about, just stop reading now.
I’d say that one of the best depictions of God’s grace comes from a well-beloved and world-renowned children’s fantasy novel, that being C. S. Lewis’ The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.