Conscious fixation on our sovereign, gracious, and loving Lord is the only effective remedy for a troubled heart.
I know a lot of godless but sorta-kinda-spiritual people who are very happy with their lives. Many of them, especially those in my neck of the woods (the South), even consider themselves "blessed and highly favored."
I read through the book of Judges this past week and was freshly astonished by God's faithfulness to his ever-erring people.
The Bible teaches that God holds each human being personally accountable for his or her moral choices. He requires that his image-bearing creatures love, trust, and obey him. When we fail to do these things, we alone are responsible.
I have often heard God's holiness defined as his otherness. Though I believe this definition is correct, I think it should be teased out a little.
Life sometimes feels like an endless parade of problems, doesn't it? It seems like as soon as we get through one sticky situation, another comes rolling in quickly on its heels.
Our talk tends to major on what God is doing in us as we endure trials of various kinds. But what about what he might be doing through us as we suffer?
Faith is passive in the sense that it simply believes God and trusts in him. However, as we see in Hebrews 11, true belief and trust always give way to active obedience. Faith fights. It conquers. It overcomes (1 John 5:4)!
I fear, though, that a twisted view of spiritual maturity has infiltrated the church. Our society tends to equate maturity with conservativeness or sophistication.
I have heard some say that Christians don't need to regularly confess their sins to God or seek his forgiveness.
God is pleased with obedience that is compelled by love for him. But what does it mean — or, what does it feel like — to obey God from love?
Many of us are painfully familiar with the sorrow that follows sinful acts. Whenever the cheap thrill of a transgression wears off, our souls swell with regret, frustration, and maybe even despair. But this is a good response, isn't it? Only regenerate hearts respond negatively to sin, right?
Some may consider it a morbid thing to think regularly about death. However, the Scriptures constantly direct our minds to the reality of our mortality. Why?
When my pained heart is reluctant to forgive, I have found it tremendously helpful to meditate on the following three realities:
I received an email a few weeks ago from a Christian who for years has been attempting to cease from his habitual use of pornography. To his immense disappointment and frustration, these attempts have been largely unsuccessful.
God desires for his people to live in subjection to the individual and institutional authorities he places over them.
Someone recently asked me if I believe in "once saved, always saved." It's difficult to answer this question with a simple yes or no.
Jon Bloom, co-founder of Desiring God, wrote the following sentence in one of his articles last November: "There's only one solution to anxiety: the assurance everything is going to be okay."
In his short but powerful book All of Grace, Charles Spurgeon wrote that weak faith, as long as it is true faith, saves a person no less effectively than strong faith: "A trembling hand may receive a golden gift."
I saw The Shack the week after it premiered. Though I did not read the book beforehand, I had read multiple articles describing how it portrays the Trinitarian God of Christianity.
I once believed that my primary mission field was the LGBT community. God had not revealed this to me, nor had he especially burdened my heart for this particular group of people.
One of God's first acts in his newly instituted church was killing two of its members.
My friend Ben recently told me he fears he may not be saved. When I asked him to share with me the reason for his lack of assurance, I expected him to divulge that he was being mastered by some secret, besetting sin or that he was growing doubtful about the truthfulness of the Scriptures.
God calls Christians to an odd kind of life — one that is lived in the present, transient world but lived for the future, eternal world.
Do you ever worry your faith might fail before you finish the race (2 Timothy 4:7)?