I don't think God is a gender. He presents himself as a father but he comes to us with the tenderness of a mother. In some of the parables, he is the housewife who cleans the house looking for the lost coin. So I think we can miss the point if we get too concerned about the gender of God.

As we meditate on Christ's life, we find strength for our own.

Anger is the noise of the soul; the unseen irritant of the heart; the relentless invader of silence.

If you knew that only a few would care that you came, would you still come? If you knew that those you loved would laugh in your face, would you still care? If you knew that the tongues you made would mock you, the mouths you made would spit at you, the hands you made would crucify you, would you still make them? Christ did.

Compassion in evangelical churches is out of balance. When I talk about it, I get a lot of glazed expressions.

It's no wonder, that God's anxiety therapy includes a large, delightful dollop of gratitude. The anxious heart says, "Lord, if only I had this, that, or the other, I'd be okay." The grateful heart says, "Oh, look! You've already given me this, that, and the other. Thank you, God."

We may speak about a place where there are no tears, no death, no fear, no night; but those are just the benefits of heaven. The beauty of heaven is seeing God.