A fairly common question among Christians goes like this: “When were you saved?” When well-meaning folks ask this question, they are typically just trying to get to know you better.

In the wake of Charlie Kirk’s assassination, I’ve seen many people over the past month—particularly young men of about my age—strive to take up the banner of “I am Charlie Kirk.”

In the beginning, the Lord God breathed upon a young world those words befitting the creation of Adam, the first man: “It is not good that the man should be alone” (Genesis 2:18). As Christians, so must we eschew isolation and seek rather to gather regularly as the body of Christ.

I did not know Charlie Kirk; I never had the opportunity to meet Charlie Kirk; and, to be quite honest, Charlie didn’t rank highly among the conservative voices I find myself regularly listening to. I’m not even American. Though, I did frequent his content more than occasionally and I respected him deeply. All that to say, Charlie Kirk and I were not friends; but as two souls united to Christ through faith, he and I were and are brothers.

The world of Formula 1, like most any other sport, is just that—a world unto itself, littered with legends, seemingly arbitrary rules, and teams that mean little to the world outside of the fanbase.

To describe The Space Trilogy as Narnia for adults, or merely as Narnia in space, would be a disservice to Lewis’ work.

Over the last few years, humanity has ushered in a grave new world with the advent of Artificial Intelligence. A grave new world of increasing darkness and deception, all the while clothing its dark members in palatable shades of grey and muted tones of white as they issue from places of deep shadow; sometimes growing so bold as to masquerade as messengers of light.

Why do you want to go to Heaven? I assume that, when it comes time for you to die, Heaven is the place you want to go to—only a madman, or worse, would desire the alternative. But why do you want to go there?

It may surprise you to learn there is a strong case to be made for Charles Spurgeon having been the most prolific writer in the history of the English language. That is, among all those who have ever written in English, Spurgeon may have penned and published the most words—ever.

It is a humbling experience to share the Gospel with little children. They ask a lot of piercing questions; good, simple questions that insist upon straightforward answers.

Marriages grow cold not because husband and wife begin falling out of love, but because they begin falling out of repentance. The sin-swept wane of many years and the hardening effects of bitterness left unchecked and unrepented of render many cold and callous, unable and unwilling to turn from sin. Unwilling to towards a living and loving Savior in Christ who stands ready to forgive those who forsake their sin and cling to Him for lasting healing.

Like many of you, I’ve often heard folks say something along these lines: “Well, in Biblical times things like that used to happen, but not anymore.” More often than not, we use the phrase “Biblical times” in our conversations to denote some particularly miraculous time or event in Biblical history such as the flood, the exodus from Egypt, the halting of celestial bodies, or Jonah’s being swallowed by a great fish.

While I’ve always enjoyed writing, it wasn’t until after my father passed away that I truly took up my pen and got to work.

L.M. Montgomery’s novel Emily of New Moon was the required reading of my undergrad that, quite possibly, excited me the very least. How could the misadventures of a young girl on Prince Edward Island possibly compare to the heroic heights of Beowulf or the literary—and ocean—depths of Moby Dick?

Over the course of the last year, I’ve taken on the labyrinthian task of dipping my toes into the murky depths of church history.

Fresh out of university, famed author and conservative commentator William F. Buckley Jr. penned God & Man at Yale: The Superstitions of ‘Academic Freedom.’ Though he was only twenty-five at the time and would go on to author many other books, God & Man at Yale remains Buckley’s most widely recognized work. In it, he dismantles “the extraordinarily irresponsible educational attitude that prevailed at his alma mater” during the 1950s.

Though my grandmother didn’t speak much English, I loved her very much. More importantly, I knew that she loved me even more than could be imagined—no words in any language were needed to convey that reality. While my grandmother passed away some time ago,—almost fifteen years now—she remains in my memory as one of the warmest, kindest, and sweetest souls that I’ve ever known.

Several years ago, Jordan Peterson appeared on the rather popular Lex Fridman Podcast. In no time at all, a discussion arose between the two men regarding their favorite author—the great Russian writer, Fyodor Dostoevsky. Their conversation was narrowing in on this point: which of Dostoevsky’s novels can rightfully claim the title as the greatest book ever written, Crime and Punishment or The Brothers Karamazov?

While no one has had a perfect childhood, many of us had a good childhood—even a great one. I, for my part, had a great childhood.

Yesterday my sister married the love of her life in Kitwe, Zambia. Cheyenne, the oldest among my three younger sisters, had first met...

The dark night of the soul—have you tasted those bitter waters, believer?

I only met Steve Lawson once, but the memory of our meeting has cast a long shadow in my memory—particularly in light of recent events.

Just as a piece of literature should tell us something about its author, or a timepiece its architect, so too does creation reveal its...

Many years ago, a large African-American man was riding the Detroit city bus on route to some destination of his.