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I was on a social media forum in the wee hours this morning, as the last of the votes were being tallied and it looked like Trump was indeed – and for many, unbelievably – going to take the White House. The people posting on the forum were all pro-Trump, and there was an infectiously giddy and festive atmosphere. It was a financial forum, so there were lots of investors bemoaning the sudden 800-point plunge of the DOW as the vote turned in Trump’s favour, which meant substantial losses in the 10s or even 100s of thousands of dollars for some of them. But, to a man, every single poster who bemoaned their unexpected loss said in the same breath that the loss didn’t matter if it meant that America would get back on track again. (more…)
Like Jesus, I am no stranger to confrontation. In fact, in this ongoing revolution called “being a Christian in an anti-Christ world”, confrontation should be a daily occurrence – not with unbelievers (Jesus didn’t bother them) but with those who say they know God yet by their words and actions prove otherwise.
Enter Exhibit A: “Prayer warriors”. Never mind the stupidity of the phrase; let’s look at what these self-hyped “warriors” think they’re accomplishing. (more…)
I remember the first time it happened to me. I’d let loose on someone who’d done something stupid and I wasn’t in the mood to deal with it. In response, someone who overheard my rebuke snapped at me: “Well, that’s not very Christian of you.”
There are few phrases in the English language that peeve me more than that. Tell me to shut up to my face, volley a dozen f-bombs in my direction, disparage each of my relatives in turn, but don’t even think about doubting my faith because that’s what you’re doing when you level that phrase at me.
As if being Christian meant being polite! Tell that to Jesus. (more…)
The old guy sits alone at a small bare card table, looking for all the world like he’d rather be anywhere but there, in the corner of the lobby of the grocery store, hawking poppies.
The small glass jar in front of him is almost empty. From boredom, perhaps, or maybe from a touch of OCD or nervousness or deeply entrenched discipline, he’s lined up a few dozen of his poppies in four equal rows, with military precision.
From here, they look like four tiny rows of graves. (more…)
The race card, religion card, gender card, poverty card, socioeconomic class card, victim card, etc., etc., etc., don’t fly with God and they don’t fly with me, either. If you want to blame your problems on people’s treatment of you, you’ll find no audience with me and even less of one with God. (more…)
People say: How can there be a God when there is so much suffering in the world? How can there be a God when good and innocent people are brutalized and murdered? (more…)