We are far too calm about the fact that anything exists, let alone everything.
I hardly have to describe the problem. If you're human, you know it. If you're perceptive, empathetic, or it has touched you, you know it all too well. This world doesn't just bite, it mauls.
We worship one God in Trinity, and Trinity in Unity; neither confounding the persons, nor dividing the substance. For there is one person of the Father, another of the Son, and another of the Holy Spirit.But the Godhead of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit is all one, the glory equal, the majesty co-eternal.
There are two competing views at war with one another this moment over the soul of the West, both of which offer a remedy, and only one of which can deliver a cure. And racism is being used as a pawn in this clash of attrition.
Torture is knowing the hugs expire. Knowing that little hands grow big and wave goodbye.
Can a Christian move from a state of adoption by God and justification, completely forgiven for all their many sins and indwelt by the Holy Spirit, to being an object of unrelenting scorn from the God they once called Abba?
With millions out of work and the country on lockdown due to the COVID-19 response, countless Americans are wondering just when things will return back to normal. But contrary to popular opinion, America does not need a return to normalcy. In fact, that's the last thing we need.
It's fashionable in our day to wax poetic about justice for all and equality, especially in the financial realm and often by individuals who vilify the very people that they themselves are—elitist bags of money, drunk on power.
When men reject God, it’s not a neutered—devotionless act. We are homo-religioso, creatures of worship. It’s how we were made. And when we kick against God’s unfettered graces, it’s because we (to our shame) desire something else.
The one lie common to us all is the collective delusion that ordinary exists. We are self aware, existentially curious arrangements of minerals hurling around a giant ball of fire at Mach-86 on a rock that’s 99% molten—as in melted, and we (quite literally) can’t be bothered.