Final holiday giveaway!
Tickets to ANY Pgatour event.
Players, WM Phx open, Pebble, you name it, I’ll get you 4 tickets to the event.
You can even caddie for me in the pro am IF you want.
Comment which event you might want to go to (not final), repost, like to enter.
@GregTooHoosier @Super70sSports You simply say no and move on. The charity will benefit from others and you can keep your change for something else. It’s all good.
Sometimes, when I think about the collapse of my faith, I think about the children of Job—how they were all gathered together at the table in a house their father built, when the roof caved right onto their heads and buried them where they sat.
I think that could be me, and I don't know what to make of that. That's what it feels like. The house I was raised in suddenly collapsed right on top of me, and it crushed my faith.
Sometimes I hear the voice of Job's wife, telling him to curse God and die, and I love her for voicing the anger I feel. What kind of God makes bets with a thing like that? I don't know.
My son asked me that once, when I read it to him. My son, who was born in pain and never slept. I used to rub his legs every night, all night for hours. He'd fall asleep and wake again an hour later, for ten years. He asked me about Job, and I still don't know what to tell him.
Already, some of you are uncomfortable—but wait.
I'm inviting you to sit outside the ruined house, to sit in the discomfort of witnessing death. If Peter denied Jesus and was called Petra—if Jacob wrestled God and became Israel—well, *surely* I can be redeemed, right? Have a little faith.
Here's what I'm asking: stop standing over our bodies speculating. Stop saying we left for greener pastures, or telling us how to feel, or process. Stop blaming us for the collapse of the roof in a house our parents built—a house many of us tried to shore up with our own bodies until it fell on us.
Stop. Recognize the moment you're in.
We aren't Job being tested. You are.
"The Lord gives, the Lord takes away,
may the name of the Lord be praised."
He gave children to Job, and he took them away.
He gave my generation to the church.
He took it away.
Cover yourself in ash—because we are.
Tear your clothes—ours were.
Bear witness to awfulness of it and grieve for us.
Tell your friends to shut their mouths, and put your hand over yours, as Job did.
If you trust a God who brings the dead back to life, well—let him do it. You might see it happen, if you quiet yourself, and wait. But it's not for you to say how, or where, or what it might look like.
"Who is this that obscures my plans
with words without knowledge?
Have you ever given orders to the morning,
or shown the dawn its place?"
If you catch a glimpse of us flickering back to live, out in fields somewhere—out where heaven is an expanse and not a kingdom that can fall on us—let us be. Don't call us back to the ruined house that crushed us. Don't try to recover our flame relight the altar.
New wine. New wineskins.
Maybe the house didn't collapse. Maybe we grew and matured, and burst from the walls build to contain us, and then flowed out. I don't know. Neither do you.
There's the common ground—if you miss us, you can come out here and stand with us on that.
I know that's not the familiar enclosed space you're accustomed to—the one you built that you thought would keep the next generation safe from the world, safe from spiritual death. But it turns out the things we build for our children can sometimes crush them, or be used to trap and exploit them. I think it's as good a time as any to acknowledge that.
And so I go back to this—and I say it with all the tenderness of someone who is a mother now, and has watched my own child crushed under the weight of something he didn't ask for:
If you trust a God who brings the dead back to life, well—let him do it. You might see it happen, if you quiet yourself, and wait. But it's not for you to say how, or where, or what it might look like. It's not for you to tell us what kind of house we should build—if we build one at all—or never enter a house again for fear of the collapse.
It's only yours to grieve.
That's what love does.
I can stand with you on common ground if you choose to stand on that—that's the portion I've chosen. To weep with those who weep and hope for resurrection; a life entirely new, and resilient, and lasting.
I think that's Christian enough for right now.
#deconstruction #ihopkc #churchtoo
@LanceMcAlister@uofl Congrats Lance. Had a COVID college graduation for one of ours. The lack of pomp and circumstance was a bummer. Enjoy the deeper satisfaction of college grad. HS has the parties and gifts for kids but college felt much more gratifying deep down-at least it did for me. Well done!
@desmiff@LanceMcAlister is Mick the Tom Thibodeau of college bball? Better with hard nosed grinders playing D and respond to relentless discipline than elite stars who aren’t into that.
@TheRealMrMader Was so great to be with you and your team. Coldwater definitely a special place with a group of great teaching pros! Thx for the invite!
@dpshow HOF could be like other museums - special exhibit. Every five years create exhibit of first ballots. Make it a gigantic event. Guests, gala, TV, documentaries, players, then open the exhibit for 3-6 months for the public.
@Kthornbury Hey Kimberly. Looks like “X” won’t let me DM you cause I’m not a verified user. My daughter (25 yo) lives in a great spot nearby in Los Feliz - just signed a lease after the whole AirBnB thing, too. Maybe you can DM me? Glad to fill you in and see if it’s a good lead for you.
@Biz__9 No one has said Salazar? You want a choice of locally sourced, expertly made cuisine in an intimate spot that feels more like a bistro in Europe - then Salazar is your spot. Plus, an after dinner stroll in Washington Park! Second to none.
LINES TO GET BAPTIZED
These are pictures from the largest baptism in US history which happened yesterday at Pirates Cove in Southern California.
Thousands of people were baptized in a single day, and made a public declaration of their faith in Jesus, and followed in obedience to Jesus to be baptized in water.
The line to get baptized was a half mile long. People patiently waited for hours to publicly declare their faith in Jesus Christ.
This is an unprecedented move of God happening across the nation, and people are desperate for God to move in their lives and our world.
"Passion is a feeling that follows action. It tends to be created or discovered, not predicted or planned. You don't find your passion. It finds you as you get in the mix and try things."
-@JamesClear