That phrase. We’ve all received it personally gift-wrapped by well-meaning friends, caring loved ones, and kind strangers. It usually comes delivered with the most beautiful of intentions; a buffer of hope raised in
Some days I feel like filing a Missing Persons Report for Jesus. I survey the media landscape of what so many identify as representing Christianity in my country and it feels like he has
Mother’s Day. For many people that means flowers and handmade cards and Sunday brunches and waves of laughter. It means celebration and gratitude and warm embraces and great rejoicing. It means
“If you died tonight, do you know where you’d go?” For the last few decades, Evangelical Christians have been tossing out that eternity-bombshell question to youth rooms filled with petrified teenagers, to packed
That phrase. We’ve all received it personally gift-wrapped by well-meaning friends, caring loved ones, and kind strangers. It usually comes delivered with the most beautiful of intentions; a buffer of hope raised in
Some days I feel like filing a Missing Persons Report for Jesus. I survey the media landscape of what so many identify as representing Christianity in my country and it feels like he has
Mother’s Day. For many people that means flowers and handmade cards and Sunday brunches and waves of laughter. It means celebration and gratitude and warm embraces and great rejoicing. It means
“If you died tonight, do you know where you’d go?” For the last few decades, Evangelical Christians have been tossing out that eternity-bombshell question to youth rooms filled with petrified teenagers, to packed