No, Hillary wasn't worse.
No, abortion is not a bigger issue than taking care of the living.
No, Trump was not put in the while house by God.
No, he does not have any kind of heavenly "anointing."
No, it wasn't difficult to tell that he was a fraud and a con man.
No, the Republican Party is NOT the party of family values, or any values at all, really.
No, patriotism does not equal Christianity.
No, America (or today's Israel) is no more a "chosen nation" than Turkmenistan.
No, the flag and the national anthem are not sacred.
No, trickle down economics doesn't work.
No, the swamp can't be drained by installing Wall Street insiders and bankers.
No, climate change is not a hoax.
No, America has not been made great again.
America has been shown for what it is
petty
fearful
hateful
full of greed
Christians voted for this mess, and only Christians can fix it.
"If my people who are called by my name will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sins and heal their land." 2 Chron. 7:14
Most Christians read this thinking they are "standing in the gap" for the wickedness of the world when they pray, but that is not what it says. God was calling out the wickedness of his people.
Supporting a wicked man is wickedness.
And Trump is wicked.
The fruit of his life is lies, fraud, sexual assault, cheating his workers, cheating his wives. He has connections to mobsters and Russians and money launderers, and he admires the despots of the world more than democratic leaders.
Don't tell me we can't judge his heart. His heart is plain to see.
And it's time that Christians owned what they have done by installing this man as President over America.
And it's time for some major repentance.
Be stiff necked no more, Church.
Humility in prayer is the requirement for this unholy alliance.
Before it's too late.
Wednesday, December 20, 2017
Sunday, July 9, 2017
Another Lesson From My Son
Years ago, we were having a bit of puzzle mania at my house. Over the course of several days, every single kid puzzle we owned was put together on our basement floor.
On one of those days, my four-year-old was talking while he was working on a puzzle of Lassie with puppies. "Don't worry, little puppies," he was saying, "I'm putting you together. And you will love me because I'm making you." He paused a moment as he put a few more pieces together. Then he said in a low voice, "I am God."
I sucked in a breath, expecting lightning to strike, but then I realized that he had grasped what so many older and wiser people never do: The creation will love the creator simply because he made them and gave them form.
This is the basics of relating to the Father. Without that simple appreciation, we can never move on to anything closer.
1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 says, "Be joyful always. Pray continually. Give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.
There have been many times in my life when giving thanks seemed all but impossible, but even in those times, this truth remains: I will be grateful to the Creator who made me, simply because he did.
On one of those days, my four-year-old was talking while he was working on a puzzle of Lassie with puppies. "Don't worry, little puppies," he was saying, "I'm putting you together. And you will love me because I'm making you." He paused a moment as he put a few more pieces together. Then he said in a low voice, "I am God."
I sucked in a breath, expecting lightning to strike, but then I realized that he had grasped what so many older and wiser people never do: The creation will love the creator simply because he made them and gave them form.
This is the basics of relating to the Father. Without that simple appreciation, we can never move on to anything closer.
1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 says, "Be joyful always. Pray continually. Give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.
There have been many times in my life when giving thanks seemed all but impossible, but even in those times, this truth remains: I will be grateful to the Creator who made me, simply because he did.
Tuesday, July 4, 2017
Lessons From My Goofy Son
A few weeks ago, I drove my son to the hospital for a surgical procedure. Although it wasn't a particularly risky surgery, he would need to stay in the hospital for several days after.
I parked in the valet parking lane after the 80 minute drive, and my son gets out, grabs his bag out of the back and says, "Thanks for the ride."
"Well, I'm not leaving you!" I sputtered incredulously.
He looked genuinely surprised. "Oh! Okay."
What a goof! Did he really not know me any better than that after 26 years? Did he think I'd let him go through anything that required anesthesia with no one there waiting for him on the other side?
When he was 7, I held his hand and sang to him while the technicians forced a tube up his nose and down his throat to his stomach when he had his first intestinal block. I was there for the second one when he was in his early teens and the third when he was 19--one week after my mother died. I spent the night in a ridiculously uncomfortable chair in the ER for that one.
When he was 11, I tried to hide tears when his doctor said for the first time that his lungs weren't sounding as good as usual, and he wanted to admit him to the hospital, and I was there, mad as hell, when we found out he had steroid-induced diabetes.
My husband and I have been there through so many hospitalizations with him, I can't even tell you how many, and we've sat in quite a few waiting rooms when he had biopsies and bronchoscopies and hernia surgery and gall bladder surgery... How could he possibly think I'd just turn around and drive home while he went through a G-tube installation? Didn't he know me at all?
And in my indignation, I heard God laugh. Because I do that to Him all the time.
Even though He's been walking with me for 50+ years through every single crisis of my life, when the next one hits, I'm convinced that He is nowhere around. That He's dropped me off at the curb and said "So long, sweetheart, this time you're on your own."
But He hasn't, and He never will. He's going to walk with me wherever we need to go, holding my hand and singing me songs.
You'd think I'd know that by now.
I parked in the valet parking lane after the 80 minute drive, and my son gets out, grabs his bag out of the back and says, "Thanks for the ride."
"Well, I'm not leaving you!" I sputtered incredulously.
He looked genuinely surprised. "Oh! Okay."
What a goof! Did he really not know me any better than that after 26 years? Did he think I'd let him go through anything that required anesthesia with no one there waiting for him on the other side?
When he was 7, I held his hand and sang to him while the technicians forced a tube up his nose and down his throat to his stomach when he had his first intestinal block. I was there for the second one when he was in his early teens and the third when he was 19--one week after my mother died. I spent the night in a ridiculously uncomfortable chair in the ER for that one.
When he was 11, I tried to hide tears when his doctor said for the first time that his lungs weren't sounding as good as usual, and he wanted to admit him to the hospital, and I was there, mad as hell, when we found out he had steroid-induced diabetes.
My husband and I have been there through so many hospitalizations with him, I can't even tell you how many, and we've sat in quite a few waiting rooms when he had biopsies and bronchoscopies and hernia surgery and gall bladder surgery... How could he possibly think I'd just turn around and drive home while he went through a G-tube installation? Didn't he know me at all?
And in my indignation, I heard God laugh. Because I do that to Him all the time.
Even though He's been walking with me for 50+ years through every single crisis of my life, when the next one hits, I'm convinced that He is nowhere around. That He's dropped me off at the curb and said "So long, sweetheart, this time you're on your own."
But He hasn't, and He never will. He's going to walk with me wherever we need to go, holding my hand and singing me songs.
You'd think I'd know that by now.
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