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In the Waiting Room
(Please note, this is a longer post than usual. I would suggest reading it on a computer rather than a phone, as the phone version cuts off some of the columns.) When I was young and became sick, I remember that my mother would bundle me up and drive me across town to the office of our family doctor, a white-haired GP who dispensed medicine from a one-man office, with the assistance of just one receptionist and one nurse. I don’t remember my mother ever calling ahead to make an appointment, we just showed up, put our names on a list, and then waited our turn to see the…
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Smoke and Mirrors
When the Coronavirus first broke out, I kept hearing in my spirit the phrase, “Smoke and Mirrors.” But not being given anything else to go on, all I could do was wait for further instructions. Then, when George Floyd died and all of the riots broke out, I heard “Smoke and Mirrors” once more—again, without being given any additional information or instruction. Afterward, while observing the fallout from these events, I was amazed by the clear dividing line that was being drawn—not among the unbelievers but among those whom I considered to be committed and mature followers of Christ. I was simultaneously stunned and grieved to see so many of…
