So many who no longer believe in Jesus cite reasons that relate to church and Christianity and lack of love and credible answers. It makes me weep not just for those who are walking away, but also for the many who aren’t talking about it but lost their faith years ago.

In this excerpt from my book Lord Foulgrin’s Letters, a high-ranking demon instructs his subordinate how to deceive and destroy Jordan Fletcher and his family—in this case, when it comes to their choosing a college for their daughter Jillian.

This article is well done and is on a vital subject I’m deeply concerned about: the numbers of young people leaving the church, in what this article calls “the church exodus crisis.” I encourage pastors, parents, and those serving with youth to read this and take it to heart.

The church can and should be a source of guidance and support for parents. But no youth group is a substitute for attentive, hands-on parenting. (Not to mention on-your-knees parenting.)

Dads (and much of this applies to moms too), if you’re already spending lots of time with your kids, by all means focus on quality. But if you’re not spending enough time with your kids, or constantly being pulled away by distractions, don’t try to compensate by making your meager time “quality.”

Even many children in Christian families don’t see their parents give and are not taught and encouraged to give themselves. So they become keepers and accumulators, and essentially self-preoccupied materialists.

I would challenge men to be the spiritual leaders of their homes. What does that look like on a daily basis? Open God’s Word with your wife, your children, and your grandchildren. Pray with them, talk with them, and guide them. 

There are few things in life as difficult and painful as watching your children walk away from Christ. For those whose hearts have been broken by their children’s rebellion, never give up on them. No matter how difficult their struggle, as long as they’re alive, God can change them.

Imaginez-vous dehors un jour d'hiver. Il fait froid et vos lèvres laissent échapper un souffle d'air. Un petit nuage se forme et disparaît aussitôt. La vie est brève ici-bas,  comme un point sur une feuille: à peine commencé, il est déjà achevé. Mais ce point marque néanmoins le début d'une ligne qui dure éternellement. La mort n'est pas un mur, c'est une porte.