Please share! 🙏🙏🙏 $ 10,000 REWARD $ CALL 561-774-5865
We were at my son’s wedding and one of the caterers spooked our tiny little Shih Tzu and she ran and wouldn’t stop. We are in Bellbrook, Ohio. Just praying that we can somehow get her back before we have to go back home.
****We are offering $10,000
for her safe return. No questions asked****
She is black and white and was wearing a pink harness when she escaped in the Bellbrook Ohio area.
If you see her, please don’t approach her - just either get a photo so we can tell if it’s her, try to lure her with food if you have some, or if not just call us immediately and we’ll send search people right away.
Please call us at 561–7 74–5865 with any information. Please repost and tell your neighbors and friends.
Thank you so very much!
#lostpet #ohio #bellbrookohio #lostdog #missingpet #missingdog
The whole Bible, from beginning to end, makes this clear that salvation is not earned by keeping the law but given by the grace of God. The law exposes sin and shows us our need, but it cannot save. “By the works of the Law no flesh will be justified in His sight” Romans 3:20.
From the earliest pages of Scripture, God saves by promise, not by performance. Abraham was counted righteous by faith, not by works. “Abraham believed God, and it was credited to him as righteousness” Genesis 15:6. That same truth carries through to the New Testament where salvation is grounded entirely in grace. “By grace you have been saved through faith… not as a result of works” Ephesians 2:8–9.
The law points to the problem. Grace provides the answer. Christ fulfills what the law could never accomplish. “If righteousness comes through the Law, then Christ died needlessly” Galatians 2:21.
So the message of Scripture is unified and consistent. Salvation is not the result of human effort but the gift of God’s grace given through Jesus Christ.
There are pictures on my wall that don't exist anymore.
All seven of us. Five kids. Two parents. Two dogs. Taken before the exodus started.
Three of my kids live in Florida now. The oldest two left first. The third followed when he turned eighteen. My wife and I are in North Dakota with our two youngest girls and two dogs who still answer to the names of the ones we buried.
Chester. Ginger. We call the new ones by their names without thinking. Our mouths remember the ghost dogs before our brains catch up.
Thomas Wolfe wrote a novel in 1940 called You Can't Go Home Again. Published after he died. The last lines still cut like a blade:
"You can't go back home to your family, back home to your childhood... back home to the old forms and systems of things which once seemed everlasting, but which are changing all the time—back home to the escapes of Time and Memory."
I didn't understand that quote until this year.
My dad was an Army Ranger. Police captain. The kind of man who made you feel like nothing on earth could touch you as long as he was in the building. I remember the smells of my mom's cooking. The noise of me and my brothers fighting and doing dumb things. My younger brother getting caught up in our foolishness whether he wanted in or not.
I remember the feeling of safety. That bone-deep knowing that your father has it handled.
I can't go back there. Those smells are memories. That noise is silence. That safety was a season—not a permanent address.
I'm a child of the 80s. Music was always playing. Always. And now a song doesn't remind me of a time—it relocates me.
Duran Duran and I'm in Germany.
An old country song and I'm in North Carolina.
A 90s track and I'm in Hawaii.
Three chords and I'm standing in a place that doesn't exist anymore.
The other day I was writing. Apple Music dropped in a song I didn't ask for.
"Welcome to the Machine" by Pink Floyd.
The opening synth hit me first. Then the lyrics.
Welcome my son. Welcome to the machine.
I stopped typing. Looked at that picture on the wall. All five kids. My wife next to me. And the thought came uninvited—are we inside a machine? Some system grinding us through its gears while we smile for photos we'll weep over later?
I grounded myself fast. The Word of God is my anchor and I don't drift long.
But the thought stung.
Because this week "Christian social media" was buzzing about the Grammys and Kid Rock and the TPUSA Super Bowl halftime show. Everyone had an opinion. Everyone was outraged or celebrating or performing discernment for an audience.
And all of it, every take, every hot post, every argument, reminded me of one thing:
We are not home.
Wolfe was right. You can't go home again. But Wolfe didn't have the answer. He diagnosed the ache. He couldn't name the cure.
Solomon could.
"He hath made every thing beautiful in his time: also he hath set the world in their heart, so that no man can find out the work that God maketh from the beginning to the end." —Ecclesiastes 3:11
That word—world—is olam in the Hebrew.
Eternity.
God set eternity in your heart.
That's why the pictures make you ache. That's why old songs teleport you. That's why you call the new dog by the dead dog's name. That's why you sit in a quiet house remembering when it was chaos—and realize the chaos was the gift.
You were built for a home that doesn't decay. Where time doesn't steal your children or silence your kitchen or bury your dogs in the backyard.
The ache isn't a malfunction. It's a homing signal.
"These all died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off, and were persuaded of them, and embraced them, and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth." —Hebrews 11:13
That's what Wolfe felt but couldn't name. That's what Pink Floyd reached for but couldn't grasp. That's what every 80s kid feels when the right song plays and the chest tightens and you're eight years old again for three seconds before time drags you back to the present.
You can't go home again.
Because you were never home to begin with.
"In my Father's house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you." —John 14:2
He's building it right now.
And when you walk through that door, you won't have to leave again.
I wrote the full version of this tonight on Substack. It goes deeper. If this hit you in the chest, go read it.
@biblicalman
At the very moment that Augustus is making decrees as the ruler of the known world, and Herod is seething in his palace, God enters stage right. Not on the clouds, asserting his power and dominance, not with all the strength and might he rightly has. But in humility. Doing so with a profound statement that he is turning all our preconceived notions completely upside down.
One of the most beautiful, yet often overlooked, components to this story is Mary’s reaction to the news of her Son. In church tradition we call her carol The Magnificat:
“My soul exalts the Lord, and my spirit has begun to rejoice in God my Savior, because he has looked upon the humble state of his servant.
For from now on all generations will call me blessed, because he who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is his name; from generation to generation he is merciful to those who fear him.
He has demonstrated power with his arm; he has scattered those whose pride wells up from the sheer arrogance of their hearts.
He has brought down the mighty from their thrones, and has lifted up those of lowly position; he has filled the hungry with good things, and has sent the rich away empty.
He has helped his servant Israel, remembering his mercy, as he promised to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants forever.” (Luke 1:46-55)
Amidst all the interpretations of Christmas that we hear at this time of year from clergy, advertisers, politicians, and journalists, we might benefit from listening to the mother who sits at the centre of it all. According to Mary, Christmas is about God scattering the proud, bringing down unjust rulers, lifting up the humble. It’s about God turning things upside down— which ironically is the right way up to begin with.
And God accomplishes all of this not “from on high,” like the decree of Augustus, or the brutality of Herod; instead, God achieves his purposes from below in the lowliness of a manger. With shepherds, livestock, and foreign magi as the first witnesses.
Christmas is about God turning things upside down—which ironically is the right way up to begin with.
Every detail about the Christmas story (and the subsequent life of Jesus as well), states that God will reverse the mess and do so by first getting his own hands dirty. God conquers by humbling himself, he will heal by being wounded, he will save us by sacrificing himself. The manger is a throne, and works as a beacon of how God intends to turn everything upside down.
Grace triumphs over dominance, mercy over force, and Mary’s song will be the world’s song. Joy will pierce through the sorrow and sadness, fully and forever.
Jesus predicted that not one stone of the Temple would be left standing, but why didn’t the Gospel writers record that event when it happened? Let's unpack the answer at the Western Wall in Jerusalem!
Listen very closely to the answer Charlie Kirk gives to a question from the audience...
IF he was taken out by criminal elements within the intelligence community, this would be their number 1 reason for doing so!
Listen to his brilliant answer that I think upset the powers that (ought not) be because they don't want this information spreading any further than it already has!
It's a big IF, but it's worth considering!
"For the conviction of the disciples that they encountered the resurrected Jesus, we have no fewer than nine ancient sources, confirming and corroborating the conviction of the disciples that they encountered the risen Jesus."
@LeeStrobel
I hope we all really think about what our savior did for us on Good Friday.
Read about it. Meditate in it. Thank Him for it.
His sacrifice is literally where the word 'excruciating' comes from.
It was too much for any other person in the history of the world to bear.
But it is good.
Because Sunday is coming!