It’s one thing to read about martyrs in church history. It’s another to walk through the dungeons where they were held, to imagine the faces of a young mother and her friends as they waited for the arena.

If noise is the enemy of our souls, then God fights it with his gentle whisper, and he encompasses you within it. You have only to be silent.

So cry out to God for his help. He is near. He is near to the broken-hearted and saves those crushed in spirit.

When it feels like you are experiencing a period of dryness and are struggling to see growth, turn from your shame toward Jesus.

In this excerpt, pastor and author Ray Ortlund extends the good news of the gospel to sinners lying at rock bottom, reminding readers that “…we will find such an astonishing hope nowhere else.”

Where once we fell to the ashes, despairing death, we now gratefully cry out from them on bended knee, in worship and gratitude for God’s gracious gift of life.

Reflections on focusing on obedience, not outcomes—and the God who does more than we can ask or imagine.

Because Jesus was slain and rose again, we have a hope that cannot be slain.

What if the way we grow strong in Christ is becoming more dependent upon him, not less?

A picture of the gospel shows up in the life of a needy hermit crab, for as we, too, defer to weakness, we gain a covering in Christ.

In our suffering we often want to hear God’s voice say, “Fear not, for I will fix it and make it go away.” Instead, he offers something infinitely more precious: himself.

My finite abilities have prodded me toward the infinite, eternal God who alone can heal my grumbling and despairing heart. Only when I am weak, will Christ make me strong.