The story in the Bible that rattled me before I converted to Christianity from Islam:
The two thieves crucified next to Jesus. I never knew about them. Bro. They’re the whole Gospel in one scene.
Two men. Same sin. Same cross. Same dying breath. Same distance from Jesus — mere feet away on either side.
One mocks Him. One turns to Him and says, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”
And Jesus tells the second man: “Today you will be with Me in paradise.” Luke 23:43.
That man did ZERO good works. He couldn’t. His hands were nailed down. He never prayed five times. Never fasted. Never gave to the poor. Never got baptized. He had nothing to offer but a dying glance toward Jesus.
And Jesus saved him... on the spot.
In Islam, that man was doomed. No time to balance the scale. No deeds to weigh. Game over. A horrible life with a horrible punishment ahead.
I wonder if that would be me…
Yet in the Gospel, that man was in paradise the same day — because salvation was never about his works. It was about WHO he turned to in his last moment.
Two criminals. Same cross. One simple difference: which one turned to Jesus.
That’s why the Gospel is offensive.
And Jesus asks everyone: who do you say I am?
A light show honoring Antoni Gaudí has just lit up Sagrada Família.
It felt like the tallest church in the world, for a moment, let its impossible beauty be seen by its creator.
It gives me great pleasure to share that “Patrick Stewart Performs the Complete Sonnets of William Shakespeare” is available now! If you followed my Sonnet-A-Day pandemic series, you’ll know the inspiration behind this project and the wonderful community that brought this to life.
All 154 of Shakespeare’s Sonnets, recorded with commentary by yours truly, are now available: https://t.co/q5wEcT7vj2
@SimonAudio
Geno Auriemma came far closer to a Woody Hayes moment Friday night than anyone should be comfortable with.
It was a warning sign. And hopefully there are people in his life who will tell him the truth.
Column for @YahooSports https://t.co/404BwYuxTC
There’s a mom at our school drop-off. Messy bun, always three minutes late, kids usually eating dry cereal out of a Ziploc. The "Pinterest moms" always whispered about her. I honestly felt a little bad for her.
Then one day at the playground, my neurodivergent son had a massive, violent sensory meltdown. I’m sitting in the dirt, crying, totally paralyzed.
The "perfect" moms just stared and pulled their kids away.
Suddenly, she’s there. The messy mom.
She drops her giant bag, sits right in the dirt next to us, pulls a heavy sensory toy out of her purse, and calmly shields my son from the crowd. No panic. No judgment. He regulated in three minutes. I was speechless.
We had coffee after. She told me her house is a disaster and she has severe ADHD, but she knows exactly what a nervous system collapse looks like.
I asked her how she deals with the judgmental stares from the other moms.
She took a sip of her cold coffee and said: "Perfect moms know how to bake organic muffins. Chaotic moms know how to survive the trenches."
Every time I see her running late now, I just smile. Girls, be like the messy mom. Stop apologizing for your chaos.
Joseph of Arimathea pulled a corpse off a cross with his bare hands.
Blood under his fingernails. The weight of a dead man sagging into his arms.
He wrapped God in linen, pressed the fabric into wounds that were still wet.
Nicodemus brought seventy-five pounds of burial spice. A king's funeral for a man the world just murdered.
They carried Him into a hole in the rock and rolled the stone shut.
And everything you've ever done went in with Him.
Every night you can't sleep because of what you did. Every morning, you can't look in the mirror. The thing you did to her. The thing you did to them. The
lie you've been carrying so long it feels like bone.
The version of you that drinks alone and pretends tomorrow will be different.
That man was buried with Christ.
Stone sealed. Done.
Not managed. Not in therapy. Not on a payment plan with God where you slowly earn your way back. Buried. In a tomb. Under rock. Gone.
Three days of silence. Three days of a cold body in the dark.
Then the stone moved.
And when He walked out, the grave clothes were folded on the slab. He didn't stumble out tangled in death. He left it sitting there like a man who's done
with the clothes he used to wear.
Lazarus needed someone to unwrap him. Death still clung to him even after he was breathing.
Jesus folded His own burial linen and walked out clean.
That's the difference between religion and resurrection. Religion unwraps you slowly. Asks you to manage your sin. Attend the class. Read the book. Try harder next week.
Resurrection says the man who walked into that tomb is dead. The man who walked out doesn't know him.
You're not fixing the old you. The old you is in a sealed tomb in Jerusalem, and he's not coming back.
The man reading this, the one who thinks he's too far gone, you're not too far. You're already buried. The funeral happened two thousand years
ago.
Now get up. The stone's already moved. The linen's already folded.
Walk out.
“In the fall of 1998 after Reach for the Summit hit the bestseller list, I went to Hartford for a book signing. Geno sent a huge bouquet of flowers to the store, with a funny note. "Congratulations. I hope your next visit is not nearly so successful," he wrote.”
“In the summer of 2001, there was a bafflingly rude encounter when we were at different tables in the same restaurant, and he made me so uncomfortable by shouting my name derisively that I left the premises.”
- These are excerpts from Pat Summitt’s memoir.
The two most powerful women in college basketball history both had to deal with the same thing from the same man. Pat Summitt put it in writing. Dawn Staley put it on live television. Geno Auriemma’s behavior toward women coaches is a pattern, not an incident.
In Fort Worth, I asked Geno how he prepares his team for adversity.
"As far as adversity goes, I would say the adversity is me, right?"
On Friday, that was prophetic. On Geno Auriemma, unravelling at the seams in inexcusable, embarrassing fashion:
https://t.co/B3ZEsQxK97
“Banners hang in gyms and rings collect dust. But who you become and who you impact you get to keep forever,” Cori Close
Your character defines winning.