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?

We’ve been public about the lives and deaths of these babies not to draw attention to ourselves but because we want to acknowledge their lives. Though these babies never breathed the air we breathe, though they never cried, and though they never grew beyond such a tiny size, they are life. And life lost should always be a life acknowledged and grieved.

Each of us knows the sickening feeling of guilt over our sins. It isn’t pleasant, and sometimes it comes unannounced. Yet, we also know it was by recognizing our smothering guilt that we confessed our sins and trusted in Christ for salvation. Is this guilty feeling good, even though it feels so bad? What do we do with our guilty consciences?

In the same way that you shouldn’t diagnose yourself with Google, I don’t want you to learn your theology from me. I don’t mind being your starting point or launching pad, but don’t make me your final authority. There are better sources out there than me.

Most of us have learned to be careful with the term “heretic”, reserving it for those who are far from orthodoxy, but perhaps some of us (myself included) are still a bit too quick to stick the label “false teacher” on others’ backs. Can you relate? How do you know when to call someone a false teacher?

Does sanctification ever feel too slow for you? Haven’t I gone to war with enough sins? Haven’t I reached a decent level of holiness? Shouldn’t I be immune to the devil’s temptations now? Sanctification may be slow, but God remains steadfast.

I can spend days mulling over thoughts and concerns in my head or one day blurt them out in a text to a friend, but how often do I bring these petitions to my Heavenly Father? In suffering, my prayer life can become wobbly. Why? Here are just a handful of reasons why prayer is hard during suffering and how God’s grace covers us even in those weak hours.

About 15-25% of recognized pregnancies will end in a miscarriage. If you don’t already know someone who has miscarried, chances are you will meet someone. To those who have not experienced a miscarriage, you can feel helpless watching those you love experience one. How do we help? How do we encourage them in this unique pain?

We’re all going to face suffering in this life—it’s sadly inevitable. Yet, what is also inevitable are the lies. In the midst of suffering, we can set our minds on truth, what the Bible actually says about our pain. Here are five misconceptions about suffering and the truth to which we can cling.

Burdened brothers and sisters, we can’t sanctify ourselves. Along with the apostle Paul, I gently ask you (and myself): having begun by the Spirit, do we believe we’re now being perfected by our own strength (Gal. 3:3). While it is good to pursue holiness, at the end of the day we must know that it is the Spirit—not our plans, works, obedience, or Bible memorization—who sanctifies us.

Theology is easier to articulate in articles, books, and journals than it is lived out. It’s one thing to claim that God is sovereign, and it’s another to see him take away and find a way to praise his name. Learning theology comes in two parts. There’s the time in the classroom (or on the couch with a good book) and there’s the time of living it out.

Discernment is like examining a well-done counterfeit painting—we need an expert, well-trained eye to see the tiny detail differences between the genuine and the fake. But how is this eye for detail trained? How do we strengthen our discernment muscles?

As natural as our feelings are, they don’t always communicate what is true. Our feelings often fall short of reality, though they can easily convince us of a different perception. But as believers, we are called to live by and think on what is true—not what feels true—and the truth of God’s Word must always prevail over our feelings.

When we think of ways to grow in our love for God and our neighbours, we often think of public or visible acts of service in which we give our time and resources: volunteering in church, donating money and clothes, babysitting for a tired mom, cooking a meal for a mourning family, and the like. But have we ever considered that loving God and loving our neighbours well means that we must know God’s Word well?

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.

When we spend too much time in our own heads, thinking about all that’s wrong and going wrong, our worlds magnify themselves beyond their true size. While it’s valid to mourn and to acknowledge these difficulties, I’m seeing that sometimes what we really need is to take a step back and see how big creation is.

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.

Rather than continuing to stumble my way through the same prayer each morning, I found a journal and started writing my prayers. Writing our prayers can diversifying our requests and praise, focus our minds, and preach the truths to our hearts.

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.

“If only I had [fill in the blank], then I could obey God better”? If only I had more time, friends who were more present, family members who weren’t so trying, a pet that wasn’t so needy, improved health, or the like roll through our minds. We forget that sin permeates all of our lives, not just where we’re lacking.