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Who determines which lives are meaningful and which aren’t? The answer, always, is that powerful people decide whether weaker people’s lives are meaningful.

As followers of Christ, we are to believe the truth (2 Thess. 2:12), love the truth (2:10) and walk in the truth (3 John 3). We are also to speak the truth, which sets us in stark contrast to “the cunning and craftiness of men in their deceitful scheming” (Eph. 4:14). 

Our view of heaven is comparable to standing out in a hallway and staring past an open door into a dark room. Getting a grasp of the resurrection and the New Earth is like stepping in and flipping on a light switch. Suddenly the shadowy images become recognizable…while our eyes have to adjust to the light, everything starts to make sense.

Some terms Lord Foulgrin uses in his letters, with translations.

In the world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.

The fallow field is smug, contented, protected from the shock of the plow and the agitation of the harrow...But it is paying a terrible price for its tranquility.

In a recent interview, Christopher Hitchens, the fervent atheist and author of God Is Not Great, showed he has a much clearer understanding of what it means to be a Christian than the Unitarian minister, who claims to be a Christian, interviewing him.

Dear Randy: You may not remember me, but about 4 years ago you saw me reading a Bible in the Chicago airport on your way home from a conference.

Written by Randy Alcorn, April 3, 1979, the day of his daughter's birth.

On November 9, almost six years from the day Aucas slew his son with four other missionaries in Ecuador, T. E. McCully of Wheaton, IL, visited the Aucas in their own village. He wanted to personally visit the tribe who had confessed their guilt in slaying the missionaries—all of whom now confessed belief in Christ.

O that we practiced the heavenly spiritual exercise of meditating on the providences of God! How sweet it would make our lives...

Daniel Traugott was a 13-year-old boy who died in a car accident, leaving behind his mother, father and four siblings. His mother, Sandy, sent us the following poems she wrote that reflect two different perspectives on his death. (Reprinted with permission.)

I wrote this dialogue a few years ago for my book Deadline, but it was nonessential, so I removed it, and it's never been published until now. I hope some readers will find the interaction between these two men stimulating and useful.

Randy Alcorn loves giving, and he wants you to love giving. Just listen to him talk about giving, about joyful tithing and radical generosity. But fear not—Alcorn won’t guilt you into giving. Nor will he instruct you to sell your possessions, abandon all forms of entertainment or forego future vacations.