We cannot believe in ourselves and believe in Christ.
The weight of His peace demands every inch.
The glory manifested in our savior takes the whole room.
The rooms in our hearts must be evicted of self before experiencing the fully beauty of Christ.
Worry lurks and evandes, but grace stands erect and proud.
The voice of Christ has no place in the proud.
As a healthy man does not seek a doctor, nor can Jesus fill the hearts of those who claim healthy limbs.
The nature of depravity demands relief. Without the cross the ‘relief’ is to mask the brokeness.
To die is to joyfully accept the sacrifce.
To claim ‘life’ is to pour perfume on a decaying corpse.
Our hearts, minds, and bodies have such great need that we will either strut with fake assurance or kneel in joyful acceptance.
The mind of Christ is without fault and therefore without dissapointment.
Our shoulders buckle and give while Jesus says, “I can take that.”
Our hearts will either chant, ‘Me, Me, Me’ or ‘You, You, You.’ Joy is found in the latter, anxiety fills the first.
Mercy is as beautiful as it is cherished.
Fear may drive boldness where grace is not realized.
Every morning should be a gasp for beautiful breath…we are not guaranteed to emerge each day.