When we find ourselves caught up in the world’s measuring sticks, stressed out and feeling inadequate because of our sinful hearts’ tendency to go along with relatively meaningless comparisons, let’s remember that one sinful human measured against other sinful humans is still just a sinful human.
The Dark Tower destroys, through its reductive vision, creative possibilities for good fantasy storytelling.
What if the use of our hands is directly connected to our worship, our praise, our giving thanks to God?
On Monday, we planted our feet in the reality of our tiny-ness. We stared like dopes into cereal boxes and walked around with cardboard over our heads because our eyes cannot handle the brilliance of 1% of the sun.
Christ knew that a time was coming when his identity would be revealed – when the curtain of the temple would be torn in two, when the stones would cry out, when an empty tomb would proclaim that truly, he was the son of God. But it was not yet.
Like many of you, I felt sick on August 12 after scrolling through line after line about the protests that were happening in Charlottesville. And if I felt sick on Saturday, I can’t imagine what my fellow beach compatriots must have felt.
