Who would have thought it would be McDonalds that would strike the final blow in the “war on Christmas.”
I believe in Jesus and want this nation to be more Christian.
OK. Here are some refugees who need help.
But if I cannot look at the suffering face, the vulnerable face, the refugee’s face, and see Jesus in him or her, my Christianity is worthless.
“Do you realize that Starbucks wants to take Christ and Christmas off their brand new cups?”
The discussion of waiting until marriage is for another day. And the discussion of this being the only “Jesus-approved” route to endless love is for the next day. But today, I want to take focus on the act of presenting the purity certificate to her father.
As he spoke of hell, a shadow appeared in the doorway.
Lately I can’t help thinking about the fact that I’m about the same age that Jesus was when he started getting really big. It’s a nice thought, reassuring, like, sure, I haven’t done anything that significant yet, but look at Jesus.
You think life is weird and then one day you receive a human tooth in the mail.
I will tell you this: when I was growing up, my parents didn’t say nice things about Jesus.
It’s a story about us.