We forfeit our joy and peace when we keep looking over our shoulder, concerned about the fairness of what God has planned for someone else.

Not even one of a million invisible tears of grief or a million acts of godly piety goes unseen by the “God who sees.”

When I “give myself grace,” I turn within to my own broken cisterns of self-love and finite ability to satiate my thirst.

Though the call to repentance can feel like a painful providence, it’s truly a gracious gift.

. . . but God knew I needed.

Right before the Israelites were to enter the land of promise, Moses reminded the Israelites to keep their souls diligently, lest they “forget the things that your eyes have seen.” This same admonition applies to Christians.

While beating us up for how awful we believe we are, self-hate also whispers to us that if we tried just a smidge harder, we could find the strength to obey on our own. But we can’t.

As one theologian has said, “If I could hear Christ praying for me in the next room, I would not fear a million enemies.”

Whatever mundane task you put your hands to today, for whatever length of time, you can experience glory in the ordinary.

Shame may have felt like a good idea at the time, but its roots were too weak to sustain any real fruit in my life.

We listen to Satan’s accusations and let them hinder us from worshipping and serving in complete freedom. We cower down in fear and terror of who we are and what we have done. Christ has removed our chains, but we still walk as if we are bound.

We’ve come a long way from the church in the second and third centuries where so many members could not own, let alone read, a copy of the Scriptures. Now, Bible commentaries flood in through radio, internet, podcasts, and television.