I am fallen, flawed and imperfect. Yet drenched in the grace and mercy that is found in Jesus Christ, there is strength

The cross I made needs no man on its chest, for its eyes are where its heart is.

Hope doesn’t float. Hope is an anchor forged from the nails that pierced Him and the iron-will that held Him to the cross, made Him stay the course, and drove Him to live out His extreme devotion to His Father’s will. His back became the anvil on which God forged our redemption. Jesus is our only hope.

You know, we can quote the written Word all day to our friends, but nothing will touch them like our own hunger and love for the Word himself. It is not dutiful love that attracts but love freely lavished from a heart familiar with the gardens of heaven.

Those who have the disease called Jesus will never be cured.

I have been seized by the power of a great affection.