Doug Wilson talks like a man who knows what time it is. And that alone offends the ones who are still waiting for permission to speak in public. So yes, I quote him. Because in an age where most preachers are waiting for the cultural tide to recede before they build anything meaningful, Wilson is already knee-deep in concrete with a blueprint in one hand and a trowel in the other.
It was late, dark, and quiet—the kind of quiet that made up every night before. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just a regular night. I had prayed, locked the doors, and turned off the lights. The room was sealed like a tomb (as it always was), and I lay down, ready for the sweet mercy of sleep. But what came that night was something else entirely.
Like many of you, I engage in an annual ritual on my birthday—a moment of reflection on the past year while also sending out hopes and prayers for the future that lies ahead.
When Jesus invites us to carry our cross every day and follow Him (Matthew 16:24), I initially envisioned that cross as something grander. However, through
Finding the love of Christ deep within the ravine of suffering is an experience reserved for all who are truly Christian. Although I’ve both acknowledged
Well, I blame, although not entirely, the hosting provider for the previous blog site, which I shall leave unnamed except to say that its encouraging
