As long as you hate your enemy, a jail door is closed and a prisoner is taken. But when you try to understand and release your foe from your hatred, then the prisoner is released and that prisoner is you.

I think it's noteworthy that the Almighty didn't act high and mighty. The Holy One wasn't holier-than-thou. The One who knew it all wasn't a know-it-all. The One who made the stars didn't keep his head in them. The One who owns all the stuff of earth never strutted it.

In March 2011 I'm trying to decide on a sermon series that I will preach in January 2012. So, I'm about six months out.

God, the Master Weaver. He stretches the yarn and intertwines the colors, the ragged twine with the velvet strings, the pains with the pleasures. Nothing escapes his reach.

Does God notice when I'm afraid? Note the resolve in the eyes of Jesus as he marches through the storm to rescue his friends.

In this post-modern culture in which we live - where people question absolute truth - stories are resistant to platitudes; they're resistant to me making declarations of truth to them. A story can do that in kind of a Trojan-horse fashion.

Yesterday you can't alter, but your reaction to yesterday you can. The past you cannot change, but your response to your past you can.