Featured

When Scripture reveals that God is light, it speaks of an overwhelmingly beautiful light that shines forth in radiant goodness. A light that brings life and warmth and joy and abundance to all the places it touches. All flourish and abound under its rays.

What kind of love is this? What kind of God is this?  The kind who says, “Come.”   “Come to the wedding feast.”  So, come, hungry. Come, thirsty. He has prepared a table for you. And it is only here, with him, where your hunger is satisfied, and your cup overflows. 

To catch a glimpse of Jesus is to be intrigued. There has never been a man as wise, kind, good, and compelling. There has never been another man in whom we find all the fullness of God.

Even when our hearts are as cold and dead as winter, Jesus’ words blow in like an early spring breeze, warm and welcomed through the window, awakening us to himself.

The Christian and even the secular media contain many sad stories of Christian leaders being accused of all sorts of things. Bullying, sexual immorality, and financial irregularities. On a smaller scale, within congregations people find themselves accused. It is a minefield to make sure that injured parties are heard whilst innocent accused are protected.

You don’t need to wonder whether he is growing weary of you, whether he is secretly suspicious of you. He is the friend who sympathizes and is moved by our weakness. He is a friend who loves at all times (Pr. 17:17). His loyalty is unwavering, his correction is most tender, and his goodness and love pursue us all the days of our lives.

Death has no victory—the weakness of our fallen state, of our inherited guilt, of our inevitable death is completely undone.

God often uses unseen seasons to mend hidden hurts, destroy veiled beliefs, and remind our hearts of his unfathomable love for us.

The purpose of theology is to warm the heart. Every page of every theology book exists to fan the affections into flame for Christ! My sisters, let us be women of rock-solid doctrine in this generation.

Like Esther, we stand outside the door wondering what he will do, or what he will say. Will he listen? Is he a God of life or of death? Unlike Esther, we are not saved, nor do we save others, because we knock on the door and walk in. We are saved because someone like Esther did.