Faith

“All I can do is pray and hope.” With those words, I ended an article on infertility. After years of marriage and not one pregnancy, I did one of the only things I could do to help me process the fact that my wife and I might never have children: I wrote about it. 

When you discover that the only thing you have left is faith in God, you fervently wish that your faith doesn't end up poisoning your soul.

"From one man he made all the nations, that they should inhabit the whole earth; and he marked out their appointed times in history and the boundaries of their lands. God did this so that they would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from any one of us" (Acts 17:26-27).

I was born into an Adventist family. This meant feeling that pretty much everything I knew, including my religious tradition, was the sole truth.

I don’t remember much about the moment. I remember its warmth, and the way it glowed with purpose and spirit. But the stage is blurry. The song which pulsed out from it is uncertain. I know it came from a good friend of mine, one whose spot-lit glory provoked in me no jealousy, no feeling of being left out.

No one has ever seen God, but the One who knew Him before He was born on this earth taught us all to address Him in prayer.

For me, 2022 was the year of waiting—a word that managed to define our lives, thoughts and actions to an unexpected degree.

Lawyer Kent Hansen is under no obligation to write about God. It is not part of his job as Head of the Legal Department at Loma Linda University in California. No, he speaks and writes because he was found by God, because he is passionate about Jesus Christ and because he is convinced that anyone can live their faith as a vibrant, authentic...

The mix of emotions a family goes through when expecting a baby is both wonderful and terrifying. When everything seems to be in order, the...

At the age of 20, I graduated from the Orthodox Theological Seminary. I thought I was talented, I was confident, and I had a very clear idea of the path I wanted to take in life. I had all the answers. Or perhaps I hadn't asked myself enough questions.

In our desperate search for miraculous answers or confirmations, we often forget that the most profound miracles are hidden in the seemingly mundane details of our lives.

“They pour out arrogant words; all the evildoers are full of boasting” (Psalm 94:4).

This coronavirus crisis has, for me, some perplexing parallels with a well-known incident narrated in the Gospel of Matthew (14:22-33). The disciples are confined in a little boat in the middle of a terrible storm, almost as we are confined at home today by the emergency laws of our countries.

Many times we don’t have the patience to wait for an answer to our prayers, and other times we don’t even know when we've received it. For the ten Boom family, the answer to some prayers came 100 years later.

This life story challenges us to abandon clichés and stereotypes. Being blind does not mean being condemned to isolation and sadness. Disabilities can awaken hidden resources, particularly when we recognise the needs of a whole group of people. At the time of the interview, Senator Floyd Morris was President of the Senate of Jamaica.