I never used to go for walks. Given the choice, I’d rather run. After all, a leisurely stroll brings none of the sweat or red face or pounding heart that come from a good run. (I have been told that this is crazy, but maybe the runners among you can see where I’m coming from.) …
I have been able to spend more time in prayer these mornings than ever before. I am no longer sandwiching my devotional time between a run and breakfast before class or work. Instead, I can read and pray for as long as I want. At the same time, I’ve felt like I have fewer words …
Why is there evil? Why am I suffering? Why am I watching my loved ones suffer? Why does the Bible address homosexuality, gender, and political authority in a way that feels so contrary to what the world says? Asking hard questions – or questions at all – doesn’t make you a bad Christian. Faith is …
Growing up in the church, confession meant little more to me than the C in ACTS and the name of the prayer in the middle of the service. I knew I had to confess my sins because I was a sinner, but I didn’t really get it. Why confess? I thought. Doesn’t God know all …
