Faith transforms character.  You may not always be aware of another person’s absence of faith, but you will quickly be aware of another person’s presence of faith! 

It’s the most wonderful time of the year.  Indeed, Christmas is a season unparalleled in happiness.  Fellowship, nostalgic music, gifts, and good food abound.  It’s also a season that appeals to our innate, magnetic attraction toward excess.

The Lord is a disciplinarian.  Never doubt it.  He is far too faithful to let us get away with some of the things we think, say, and do.  

Curt and I have no blood relatives in the city we live in. But we do have family here. A big, sometimes dysfunctional like any other, wonderful church family. Here’s a slice of church life, family life, from the last week.

I’m writing you for the usual reason. I have an overabundance of feelings. Some people take an aspirin. Others throw up. Others shoot baskets. I peck madly on a computer keyboard.

Christians often still suffer from guilty consciences even after sincere repentance.  What has gone wrong?

A couple of months ago Keith and I were asked if we’d be willing to come to the newlywed department on a Sunday morning at our home church for a Q and A session. Since I no longer teach a Sunday morning class on a weekly basis, we were able to say yes and, joyfully, didn’t kill each other in the lapse of time between the invitation and the presentation.

I am the only transplanted Texan in my family. Keith’s family has been here for generations and they were no doubt holding the flag at the victory of San Jacinto. Yes, we still remember the Alamo.

I’m sitting in my pajamas on my bed, bone-weary but too full of gratitude to do anything but write. My eyes burn with tears over the incomprehensible grace of God.

In her book, Through Gates of Splendor, Elizabeth Elliot tells the story of five young men who, compelled by the insurmountable love of Christ, offered their lives to free a savage people in the jungles of Ecuador.

Being sifted is not your regular brand of temptation.  It’s an all-out onslaught of the enemy to destroy you and cause you to quit.  It surfaces what you detest most in yourself and reveals the ugliness of self. 

I was an accident waiting to happen.  The only one of my parents’ children to be born without the benefit of anesthesia in the days when most mothers preferred the “wake me when it’s over” method of childbirth.

Throughout Scripture God assumed the role of teacher.  Like most effective instructors, He utilized a host of different methods.  He based His teaching on a lesson plan primarily consisting of two sovereign words: whatever works. 

“The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.  Against such things there is no law” (Galatians 5:22-23).  Today we will look at the second character quality of the fruit of the Spirit—JOY. 

Jesus told the disciples a set of interlaced parables about being ready for His return.  The point of each dealt with watchfulness and doing what Christ assigns us to do. 

For every one of us who ever wondered where to draw the line, juggled too many balls at once, or had trouble making up our mind, Paul offers a timely simplification: “Whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.” 

Daniel 4 draws an unforgettable image of what can happen to a human—no matter how powerful, no matter the state of his relationship with God—when he allows his heart to swell with pride. 

Few of us are really confused about the issue of servanthood. For most of us the problem isn't serving. The problem is that inherent in the title "Servant" is the inevitable "Servee."

Years ago we had to give our beloved dachsund, Coney, to an elderly couple because she bit small children. When she bit the first time, Keith warned me that a second bite would mean she had to go.

Life is hard. Always has been - but people in past generations were usually only aware of hardships in their immediate sphere.

My son Jackson's precious life began at this exact time last year. What a ride the last twelve months have been!