**Here's a song I wrote for my firstborn son, Jonah Stephen. Lyrics: Son, oh my son, I know you'll grow tired of hearing it But I enjoy your very existence. I love you so much. Son, oh my son, you... Continue Reading →
He shows his love for us not by affirming our brokenness, but by receiving us while still in such a state, and then slapping an expiration date on it.
The presence of vanity, power-hunger, and braggadocios machismo is something that needs to be pointed out in my tribe. My Twitter feed needs to see the egg on its face. This is a prayer that we—me and my people—need: “Heavenly Father, I have no interest in selling doves for the market. Flip the tables. Braid the rope. Taper the whip.”
Sure, I'll do it too. For what it's worth (which isn't much), here are my top 9 albums of 2017:
If a Christian lamentation is nothing else, it is a longing gaze heavenward—it is a grief and discontentment for the present death and destruction that Adam’s sin occasioned, and it is the expectation for what God promised: that our eyes will be wiped of our tears and our broken hearts will be bound up. Christian lamentation is the shameless acknowledgement that things are not as they should be, and things are not as they will be.