We do not lose heart because we know that the day is coming when, like the Egyptian army, evil will be destroyed, and we will sing the song of the Lamb together by the sea.

The beauty of the Christian gospel is that because of the empty tomb left by our crucified and risen Savior, you know eventually that boat will make it to the land, where you’ll never have to worry about the monsters of the sea ever again.

When I needed assurance, I could look to the finished work of Jesus Christ, my high priest and sufficient sacrifice who is seated at the right hand of God.

The book of Ruth may not be the first place you’d look for a Christmas story. Yet, Naomi’s story of loss, pain, and restoration offers hope to our weary hearts this season—all through the birth of a baby boy.

It encourages me greatly that Jesus says, “Lazarus come out” over every believer.

In beholding the beautiful paradoxes of Good Friday, we are changed from one image of glory to another, from a heart of stone to a heart of flesh, from half-hearted obedience to resolute.

I grew up in communist Romania as the son of a pastor. I ran away from Christ. And Christ ran after me.

Right now, alone in the darkness—exposed and anxious—I have a friend with me: the one who upholds the universe by the word of his power.