If we’re all fools, what’s it matter if one fool hurts another? Does anything matter? To God, the answer is it does — and not all fools are alike because of Him.
Every lie, every broken relationship, every disease, every death—Genesis 3 is where it all traces back, and calling it “the fall” doesn’t come close to doing it justice. What went wrong in that garden wasn’t just a mistake; it was a cosmic tragedy, and the question God asks in the wreckage of it has a way of landing personally.
Pastor Tim turns to Joel to think about what God promises to do — and what that tells us about “the Last Days” right now.
In a snowstorm, the signs showing miles to safety keep you moving even when relief feels hours away. You eat, you sleep, you feel better—so you believe that’s where strength comes from. But what happens when food runs out, rest doesn’t help, and the world keeps breaking? David pleads the same in Psalm 13, cutting to the real source of life: “Look at me, answer me, oh Lord, my God, revive me, or else I will die.” When personal storms and world chaos collide, what keeps hope alive?
We know we’re going to die—it’s as inevitable as buttered toast landing face-down—but Romans 6:5 asks whether that death has to mean the same thing it did before Christ.
A voyage to the moon can feel finished once splashdown comes and the pictures stop, yet those who flew it insist it is only the start. Romans 6 challenges us to see the same of Easter: we’re not at the end of our old debt, but the beginning of our new life in Jesus.
We are good at recognizing what is wrong—and remarkably bad at fixing it. Isaiah 1 warns that the strong become tinder and their work a spark, exposing every human effort we trust to make life secure and lasting. What hope does Easter offer when the things we build, the solutions we devise, and even our own strength end in ash?
It’s great to know about how amazing Jesus is and wonderful to find out that the angels are incredibly powerful creations He made, too. But, where does that leave us?
It’s great to know about how amazing Jesus is and wonderful to find out that the angels are incredibly powerful creations He made, too. But, where does that leave us?
When things go badly, it’s easy to assume God’s favor has lifted—and that assumption runs deep enough that entire churches have been built on promising the opposite. Yet in Acts 13, the disciples who have just heard the gospel find themselves filled with joy and the Holy Spirit at precisely the moment Paul and Barnabas are driven out of the district, which raises a question worth sitting with: what if hardship isn’t the absence of God’s blessing at all?