Is the gospel simply the doorway to Christianity? Or the whole of it? We need to make the gospel the binding of our lives.

Once you know the whole story, you'll look at Leviticus differently. And you'll be looking at your story, too.

We know that we’re supposed to discern the words of the world we absorb and make sure they’re in line with Scripture. But what about the thoughts that rattle around in our own minds? Do we ever take stock of the ideas swirling around our minds and hold them up to God’s Word? Or have we become so used to hearing them that we’ve attributed them to ourselves—or even God himself?

Does repentance never feel like enough? Do you wonder how God could love someone as wicked as you? Do you doubt your salvation every time you sin? Sister, you can have assurance of your salvation and escape those weighty feelings of self-hate and condemnation—all through the gospel.

We don’t like to think of our cute, tiny children as being sinful. As moms, we may feel uncomfortable even telling our children they’re sinners. Why do we want our children to feel guilty? But what if the uncomfortable, bad news is necessary before our kids (or anyone) can truly understand the good news of the gospel at all?

Rather than dealing with the grief of your situation, do you project unnecessary judgments about yourself, your situation, or others? To help us better cope with our suffering, therapists have created a coping skill known as radical acceptance. As believers, we can use radical acceptance paired with our hope in Christ to help us through our suffering.

A book review of Zach Keele’s book, The Unfolding Word. The Unfolding Word seeks to help us see how the entire Bible unfolds as one unified story held together by the gospel.

Perfectionism paints a pretty, promising picture for us: Our hearts will be at rest and our minds will be at peace. But each day perfectionism brings us no closer to that promise and instead leaves us exhausted, frustrated, anxious, and hopeless. But if you rest in Christ and his model for growth, you’ll find true rest and peace.

Our acts of faithfulness can at times seem so personal and pertinent to only ourselves, that over time our eyes slowly turn inward. Our self-centered hearts have a habit of turning us inward, even when something is meant to drive us outward to our neighbour and upward to God. How do we keep our gaze where it’s supposed to be in this daily plodding along?

Have you felt homesick before? Abraham likewise intimately understood what it was like to be uprooted from his home, but he learned to keep his eyes on the eternal promises of God.

Alzheimer’s took much of my grandmother’s memory, and I’m sure it took much of what she knew about God. After her death, I wondered what that forgetting meant for her. If she could forget me, if she could forget her own daughters, what did that mean for the spiritual things? Were they forgotten too? I laid awake at night and wondered at the same questions for myself. As I have grown older in both years and faith, I’ve grown to take comfort in God’s words of promise to His people.

As believers, we often give ourselves to things that can’t change us. Too often, we mix up the tender relationship between the law and the gospel. And just like my failed attempt at mastering water intake, when we confuse law and gospel it leads to frustration as well as discouragement.

In those moments of trying to string words together into cohesive prayers, I came before God naked. I had nothing to show. I felt like a peasant in rags before the high king in his royal robes. Who am I Lord, to stand before you? None of my good works could carry me to his throne or make me presentable in his presence. Only Christ’s righteousness brought me there.

We often struggle in our relationships with believers we disagree with. What if it’s because we’re hanging on so tightly to our disagreements that we are unwilling to find a peaceful place to stand together? How do we learn to stand on the peaceful grounds of the gospel together despite our differences?

So many mothers struggle to breastfeed their babies. It’s crushing. For moms who already have hormones making their emotions turbulent, adding the difficulty of breastfeeding makes for heartache. Where is the hope of the gospel even in this battle with my angry baby and my engorged breasts?

Though I haven’t done anything physically that might rend a person’s heart-strings, what if I’ve spoken words that have? Do I ever give heart-string rending counsel? To bind up a broken heart, we often give counsel that sounds good but is devoid of the gospel. How do we change that?

Maybe you have felt that too, that grasping in the air for faith while your hope is depleted. If your faith is weak and you’re stumbling through a barren land in search of something to strengthen you, there is one who loves you, who supplies your every ounce of faith, even when you feel faithless.

How do we study the Bible as sleep-deprived, weary moms? Mothers at any stage can easily fall into the lie that says we must study the Bible a certain way, everyday. Though Bible study is essential to the Christian life, we must guard against Bible study legalism.

I avoided the Old Testament because I couldn’t make sense of it, and I really didn’t like how angry God seemed. There were times when the New Testament left me baffled and with more questions than answers (for example, the entire book of Hebrews). This disconnect begins when we forget the narrative arch of Scripture: the gospel.

When someone doubts their salvation, we shouldn’t come questioning what they have done for God and how much they love him—we should come with the message of the gospel. Let’s counsel those who doubt with the gospel, not their works.