An outlet for my own reflections and musings on life, people, and just all around stuff. (The title comes from one of my favorite Flannery O'Connor stories.)
A New (Additional) Blog
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Hey folks, I'm starting a new blog for sermon manuscripts. You can check it out here.
Four years. Most people finish college in four years (I did it in three and a half, but who’s counting?). A lot of folks pay off car loans in four years. Four Years. How can such a span of time feel so incredibly short and long at the same time? I can remember being scared to death standing in that little apartment-turned-office in Kunming, my rising anxiety made all the more real by the dozen or so other people in that place making copies, signing papers, shuffling through bags to find passports and other documents. The only thing that kept me from going crazy was the same thing that always keeps me from going crazy, your mom. She knew what forms they needed to see, where I needed to sign. There was this flurry of paperwork it seemed, then, all of the sudden, without confetti, without the celebratory pomp and circumstance such an event demands, you came strolling in the room, holding the hand of a woman’s whose name I either never knew or have long-since forg...
It's taken me a while to write this entry (mostly because my schedule has been crammed lately), but after having time to "stew in my juices" I hope the following exposition is worth something. In light of the recent tragedy in Haiti, a lot of people have been asking where God fits in all of this. It happens nearly every time there is some cataclysmic event that shocks the world to attention. Not to mention that it's usually quasi-religious people asking religious "authorities" these kinds of questions. The questions usually go something like this (following a typical pattern dealing with theodicy...you can google that word): "Why would God let this happen?" "How could God do this?" "Where is God/hope in the midst of all of this devastation and despair?" These aren't unfounded questions, but it does seem (at least to me) that most of the people who are asking these sorts of questions are comfortably stationed in their (still ...
(This is an actual picture from Interstate 65 in Alabama) Yesterday I came across this post by Matthew Paul Turner in my blog feed. Now, if you click on the link, you'll notice MPT didn't write anything; he just let the ridiculousness of the picture speak for itself. This morning while reading my local newspaper online, I read this letter from a reader. Sadly, the writer of this letter is not in the minority of those in the South who still have some whitewashed image of what the South used to be. As a Southern native, born and raised in the deepest of the deep South in "Lower Alabama," I have spent my life surrounded by the confederate flag and those who will (quite literally) fight to defend everything for which they claim it stands. There are the usual claims of defense: "It's about heritage...it's a sign of Southern pride...it's a symbol of tradition and history..." Regardless of what response you hear, it is almost always preceded...
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