It feels like we have been kicked around, tied up and taken away, held for ransom. But you don’t have to live in it anymore.
This ain’t our first rodeo. The ride will end. We will overcome and there will be celebration. Count on it.
At my house we call it Schrodinger’s plague; we have no idea what’s going to be there when we look in the box.
A few years ago my Grandpa Elam passed away. Grandpa was an interesting and inspiring guy. First off, he wasn’t a blood relative. He took my dad… Read more “Grandpa’s Last Sermon”
The God narrative leads you by whisper and hand up a narrow path to stand on a ledge in the face of storms and earthquakes and mobs.
The Whisper is a little bit crazy.
He builds empires of laughter from the tearful ruins of failure.
I wonder sometimes if all the talking and moralizing makes us feel like we have accomplished something so we can ignore the Voice in the night.