Jesus touches people and heals them. He defends them against their accusers. He embraces the unembraceable.
Jesus touches people and heals them. He defends them against their accusers. He embraces the unembraceable.
When the Son of Man comes, will he find the kind of faith that nags at an unjust system even when it feels like the cards are stacked against what is right?
When someone who has been hurt in a way that will forever mark their path, telling them to forgive and forget is cruel and unwise.
God’s kingdom is all around us, but we must be able to see it as a child does in order to experience its wonder and joy.
May we never lose sight of those who are right before us—the ones who need someone to see their pain, cry with them, and simply be with them.
I wonder what Jesus’s followers did in the long hours between the death and resurrection. It was only a couple of days, but it likely felt like an eternity.
I wonder what our churches would look like if we modeled ourselves after these early believers.
I have this old sweatshirt that I’ve had since eighth grade. And I wonder, if this sweatshirt could talk, what would it tell me about my life and myself?
Genuine peace sometimes can only be brought about by confronting the overwhelming things that are preventing it. And sometimes the path to peace feels a lot like a battle.
I want to take that notion of being responsible to others instead of for others, and apply it to the church.
Even in the lives of the redeemed, one does not have to look far to find struggle and pain.
Our fear of being wrong leads us to the worst kind of wrongness—the kind that clusters and alienates.
What will spread the love of Jesus more effectively than a sermon, is a hug, validation, a knowing that someone has the time for you.
I no longer believe that the burden is on my shoulders to prove scientifically that God exists. Rather, I believe it is my burden (and joy) to show that God exists by the way I live my life.