Sadly, the world of Christian publishing isn’t even safe from sexual predators. Mary DeMuth, a powerful Christian advocate has built a ministry on how God’s business is re-storying lives. It was with great sadness that I read her latest–and troubling–article. Check out this disturbing warning. You can find more great posts from Mary at http://www.marydemuth.com/
Coal mining in the 20th century many times included taking a caged canary into the depths underground. These birds were sensitive to carbon monoxide, a potentially deadly gas devoid of color, taste or smell, that often formed in the mines. A dead bird in the cage meant the miners needed to be alert–deadly conditions were at hand.
Watching the political and social banter over the past weeks has been telling. Pointing fingers and one-upping one another takes front and center stage while pressing issues such as safety of our children and the security of our future have been left untouched.
Hearts are breaking while this happens. Children watch and learn that the person who shouts the loudest is right–never mind seeking Truth.
I think the Canary has stopped singing. Please, let’s heed the issues at hand that are killing us. We still have time.
Judges, 21:25, “In those days Israel had no king; everyone did as they saw fit.”
While my heart broke and I wept for the lost in Texas, Lori Roeleveld’s latest post brought peace and clarity to my soul. Her pin-pointed focus always rings true for me. I love this woman as a mentor, guide, and inspiration. But she is also a dear friend.
Please, don’t wait another moment. Read her thoughts on the terror left behind from an evil act in Texas.
Do you have a critical spirit? Would your friends agree with you? Check out Brandon Adam’s post. I hope it leaves you questioning the use of your “filters”.
Ever had one of those moments when you’re sitting on something you think someone needs to hear, and finally you say it – and it isn’t until the moment it escapes your lips that you realize how needless and stupid it was all along?
Yeah. That’s probably happened to me more times than I can remember. I’ll think someone needs to hear something, and it will inevitably turn out that I had neither the timing nor the right information, and my comment comes off as flippant and insensitive.
I apologize, ask for forgiveness, turn to God as best I could. And God usually comes through in my relationships.
But you know what? That’s not enough. I don’t want this sort of thing to happen anymore. At all.
So I asked myself, where did that come from? What well of muck deep in my soul even spews forth such things?
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For any of you who knew Bruce Brady, there’s a cloud of sadness over those dealing with his death. His encouragement was without end. And his wisdom and insight were always delivered with love and compassion. Below is a post he wrote for The Write Conversation in 2016. In remembrance of him, Edie Melson, co-director of Blue Ridge Mountain Christian Writers Conference shared this post again.
Thanks, Bruce. Your life made a difference.
Thanks, Mitch. We all find our own reminders that God is all around. And truly, nothing else matters.
The Final Scar?
To read my previous scar stories, click here.
My two greatest hits are on my neck. Oddly, both remind me of God. I wrote previously about one. The other began with a woman doing her lipstick in her rear view mirror as her car sailed blithely into the back of my tinny Samurai.
Several bulging neck discs made their debut that day. The pain level was acceptable (sort of). However, if more trauma were to occur, I was told, I could end up paralyzed. Not acceptable. So a discectomy was scheduled.
The day before surgery, I was laid on a tiltable table and my spine was injected with glow-in-the-dark goo in order to create a scenic map of My Spine, USA. I was fine with that. Of course, I was on Valium, so I’d have been fine with them cutting my toes off and selling…
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I remember how my interests drove me to look into Wilde’s life. After my research, I understood how these words came from the depths of his being. Both of Wilde’s parents had been successful. But the examples his parents offered him were filled with selfishness and narcissism. Reality had little importance; perception counted for more than anything. Following their example, he learned how to deal with living a double life—one presented to the public and the other that fed his desires.
His life knew no bounds until he was arrested and went to court to save his reputation. He lost soundly and his fall was precipitous, instantaneous, and very frightening.
Wilde had become a literary success. His matchless writing ability astounded his peers. But in truth, his life was tortured. Not because his lifestyle landed him in prison, but because he sought beauty first and then morality. He hid his true identity from others so he could seek pleasure. Continue reading