Our Lighted Path

"I'm sick of the evil." If I don't remember anything else besides the words of my Savior, Jesus, I think I will remember that Shirley Chisholm said, "I'm sick of the evil." Chisholm also was one who said that, if "they" don't offer you a seat at the table, bring a folding chair. She was one who vowed not to spend more on weapons, not until people's needs were taken care of. She was a woman, but she was shepherded by men. And she had enough sense to plainly say, "I'm sick of the evil." As we gear up more and more, in the U.S., for another presidential election, I think Chisholm should be included in the history that we remember. One presidential candidate, in 2020, has cautioned that some of the "socialist" ideals that are rising up are outdated throwbacks to an ill-advised 1960s. And I think that's true. Godlessly, one candidate says black and Latino citizens should be able to

This post is a boiler plate for a mission trip one day. I want to travel and ask the question, "What is Christian affection?" I think it will be interesting to see if there's a difference between answers from clergy, laity, and academic Christians. For me, the Holy Spirit has settled, in my belief, that Christian affection isn't like worldly affection at all. Jesus never says not to have Christian affection (John 21:15-17). But He and the disciples did rebuke and condemn UNGODLY affection (Matthew 15:19, 5:28; 2 Timothy 2:22; 1 Corinthians 5:9-11, 6:18). Life, the way Heaven intends, isn't about anything at all being okay!

It's difficult to think about whether your grandfather, or someone else dear, will be there, at home in Heaven — or whether a family patriarch who you've hoped for, is already there: at home in the Spirit, in Jesus. It can be uneasy to wonder weather he ever realized the hope in people like me. Did he learn to cherish that children and grandchildren were finding life in Jesus, and that, having found that life, children and grandchildren were redeemed from both his and our own sins? Did the joy of our redemption in Jesus ever show itself clearly to him? Did he understand we didn't need to be changed in flesh; that when Jesus walked among us, people looked upon a Savior who was ugly; and that Jesus' loving way was sufficient enough, in our own lives, to give us each — each unique child — the beauty of simply believing in Him? Did he have hope, in Jesus, for a child like me? Did he believe in that old saying, "God don't make junk"?