It is good and right to ask God to provide needs and wants. But ultimately, our prayers must be for his glory and his will. All other prayers—for provision and healing and safety and peace—must remain subordinate to the desire for God himself.
Could it be that religion is, indeed, “opium for the masses,” as Marx proclaimed? An “illusion or fulfillment of the oldest, strongest, and most urgent wishes of mankind,” as Freud asserted? A necessary invention of man, as Voltaire countered, to pacify our fears of death? Is Christianity merely a crutch conjured simply to quench our longing for significance and comfort?
Dayspring Christian Academy is a Classical Christian school that ascribes to a philosophy called the Principle Approach, the method of education employed in America from its founding until roughly 100 years ago.
The contest for the hearts of our children is real, literal, and perpetually raging. The enemy does not sleep. He operates with Machiavellian brilliance. We must be intentional, relentless, and confident in our pursuit of Deuteronomy 11:19, “You shall teach them to your children, talking of them when you are sitting in your house, and when you are walking by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise.” Failing to indoctrinate our children in the truth of the gospel is antithetical to loving them.
Ask and it will be given to you, seek and you will find, knock and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks it will be opened. Matthew 7:7-8
The voices of others hold powerful sway over our sense of significance. When those voices degrade, renounce, or reject, we can become blind to the truth that there is only one Voice that matters.
Satan has stepped up his game in the battle over our children’s hearts.
When we plead with God for relief from pain and don’t get what we petition for, we wonder where God has gone. But sometimes we don’t see him in our supplications because he is not there. God does not inhabit our petitions. He is “enthroned on the praises” of his people (Psalm 22:3).
“The love language of all marriages is self-denial.” Burk Parsons
Jesus did not wait until we were composed and impeccable before he subjected his body and spirit to the anguish of the cross. He did it while we were yet sinners. (Romans 5:8).
The Bread of Life ate the bread of adversity so that we could break bread with him in eternity.
Seven years ago, I had cancer. It was rare and fast growing and came out of nowhere. Despite my trust in Christ, and knowing that I would be with him if this cancer took my life, the fear I felt was persistent and, on a few terrible days, crippling.
If you are past a certain age, or if you are averse to paying for cable or satellite television, you may be familiar with rabbit ears. They are those metal, V-shaped antennas that, when positioned just so, may or may not allow you to receive a few channels on your TV.
Some months ago, R. C. Sproul was asked which doctrine he struggles with most. He replied: “Hell.”
How to explain Israel. Of all the places on the planet earth, God chose this tiny tract of land, smaller than New Jersey, as the backdrop and stage of His story of redemption...
The week before Easter was so painful that I could not even open my Bible. My prayers seemed to be blocked. No praise, no supplication, no communication whatsoever got through. My mind was a jumbled mess of static that simply could not reach out to God. Every time I walked past my Bible on the kitchen table, I felt a moment of compulsion to open it, followed by a sense of futility. I simply could (would) not hear God. The only voice I could hear clearly was my own, convincing me of my justifiable pain and suffering at the hand of my husband. Oh, woe was me.
A friend of mine recently began a sentence with the phrase, “They say that…” I can’t remember what she said they said or even who she said they were, but I do remember that I didn’t agree with whatever she said they said.
I clung to my mother, nearly breaking skin as I sunk my fingers into her arm. Trembling, heart pounding, terrified, I buried my face into her lap. She sat helplessly, stroking my hair and talking softly to me until I grew calm.
The source of my terror? Absolutely nothing.
We Christians have our sayings. In response to, “How are you?” we have, “Feeling blessed!” Or, “I’m feeling sick today.” “Oh, I’ll be praying for you.” Or, “Got a raise today.” “Amen, praise God!” Or, “I just saw the worst news on the Facebook this morning.” “Wow, hard to understand, but, God has a plan.”
Please don’t misunderstand me. We Christians are sincere people who want to help and serve and encourage. And these phrases are not bad. It’s just that they are used so profusely and so automatically that I worry that the depth of their meaning has been hollowed out...
I knew an elderly woman who was a prolific crocheter. Each day she would sit in her living room, crochet hook flying, afghan materializing from wrists to ankles in a matter of hours. And while this sweet woman crocheted, she thought. She was also a prolific thinker...