Here it is: the obstacle that pushes the disciples’ faith too far. The obstacle that ushers in helplessness and panic.
Here it is: the obstacle that pushes the disciples’ faith too far. The obstacle that ushers in helplessness and panic.
I fear we’ve used our friend Brother Lawrence to excuse our apathetic prayer lives, assigning him words he never said.
It does make a person wonder what exactly these brothers did to make the Corinthian church pay up.
When this bone quits doing its part, the whole body goes down (or spins in circles). When affliction hits it, head and hands react.
The third (and most annoying) way to end narcissistic shepherding is through the willingness to not shepherd. At least not that sheep at that time.
“Find the lost sheep!” we cry in our pre-rescue briefing, night-vision goggles on and machetes raised.
Any Christian, of any measure of maturity, is called to model Christ as shepherd.
Would you like an apple? They’re a prized variety with supernatural vitamins. Come on; eat one! It’ll open your eyes to good and evil.
In a blink the beaver can see what we cannot. These high tech goggles allow him to swim toward what is hidden beneath the surface.
Christian teenagers have a message from the Lord for the church, and they have truth bursting from their souls about morality that it would behoove the church to hear.
Waiting for a baby strengthens the hope, peace, joy, and love, crafting the manger that holds the baby. This is what Advent offers the church.
Sabbath is when our fists unclench and our shoulders soften. This renewed posture melts into place against all worldly resistance as we listen to souls breathe in stillness.
An open pulpit is a means of grace God has always used to reach a diverse group of people.
Every conversation about hospitality must include boundaries, and every conversation about boundaries must include hospitality.
Fair concerns remain about risk and logistics when it comes to relearning the virtue of Christian hospitality toward immigrants and refugees.
Some in our pews have political, theological, and experiential bricks stacked so high around the borders of their souls that they are unable to hear the cries of the immigrant.