We come to the Bible hungry for a fix—something for our problems, our inner turmoil, our next step. Genesis 1 and 2 refuse to make us the point. The story opens with four words that name the main character, and it isn’t you.
We know if a business or sports team rebuild, there is a lot of uncertainty. So what about when God rebuilds the whole universe?
Once the Christmas packages are cleared away, the dark sections of life can become painfully visible again—and we may have no idea how to fix them. Revelation 22 meets that helplessness with a river of life, a tree for the healing of the nations, and a coming day when night will be no more.
Christmas can arrive wrapped in lights and joy while grief, loss, and the sense that this world is deeply broken remain close at hand. The Gospel of Mark opens with “the beginning of the gospel about Jesus Christ,” echoing creation itself and pressing an Advent question beneath all the decorations: What kind of beginning can Jesus bring to lives that do not feel whole?
We’ve grown so busy we’ve forgotten why we gather, and our culture whispers that rest is laziness—but Exodus 20:8 calls us to remember the Sabbath as a gift, not a rule, a weekly sign that we belong to the God who rescues us and knows what we actually need.
We can get confused about the image of God in us. Is it just a “photocopy” of God? No, but it does tell us what He values and what He calls us to do.
Sin distorts our ability to understand what God is saying to us and how much we need His mercy.
Grace isn’t God’s “Plan B.” Grace is the foundation of God’s interaction with His creation.
Our bodies aren’t something to be ashamed of or to be overcome, but rather something to be celebrated and redeemed. Through the example of Jesus, we understand that the body is a gift from God, and that it has eternal value.
In the fall, God seperated us from the tree of life after human beings ate the forbidden fruit. But what if doing so was actually life giving?