John Abraham

The Aroma of Christ

For the past couple of weeks, I’ve been sitting with one question: God, why do You hate sin so much? I can never fully comprehend God’s love for me. But something almost as hard to grasp is His hatred for sin. Strangely, the answer to both questions is found in the same place, the Cross.

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The Night Jesus Visited Me

This is a story I have never told anyone in my life. There’s a specific reason why I kept it to myself, and I’ll explain that towards the end. But what I’m about to share is a true story with zero exaggerations. A Little About Me First The people who know me closely will tell

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Breaking Free from Sexual Sin

If you’ve said to yourself, “I can’t stop watching porn” or “I can’t stop masturbating”, you’re in the right place. Out of every sin mentioned in the Bible, God specifically commands us to flee from one single sin. Sexual sin. So why this one? Because you will lose this battle ten out of ten times

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A Cubist-style painting of Jesus as a carpenter, head bowed in concentration as He planes a wooden board, with geometric shapes and warm earthy tones suggesting tools and a faint cross in the background.

Finding My Purpose at Lake Joe

Sometimes I imagine Jesus from the quiet scene in The Passion of the Christ, trying to level the top of a wooden table. Months before His ministry began, maybe He wondered whether the rich man buying His table would like His craftsmanship. Maybe that sale would help feed Jesus’ family for weeks. We know He

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A Christian Exploring Islam

I want to start off by saying that this is not written to offend anyone. Many of my closest friends are Muslim. Some of the kindest, most sincere believers I know pray five times a day and take Allah seriously in a way that challenges even me as a Christian.  So this is not a

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Why I Don’t Pray to Mary

If you are a Catholic reading this, let me invite you into the following scenario. Scenario 1: We both die and are greeted at the pearly gates of Heaven. We see a woman standing next to our Lord. She approaches me first, hugs me, and lightly smacks my wrist, saying lovingly, “Life would have been

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The Thorn in My Flesh

I’ve wrestled with the Almighty over a certain thorn in my flesh for some time now. I don’t think I’ve ever prayed harder for anything in my life. I begged Him to take it away because this thorn was breaking me emotionally, physically, and mentally. And I wish that were an exaggeration. If I weren’t

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