If you found out you were dying.

As morbid as this may sound, pretend with me for a moment that you just found out that you were dying. You can get creative with the reason if you want, but the cause isn’t the point. You with me? Now, what would you do? What would you do if you found out that you were dying? I want you to literally list some things in your mind. Go skydiving? Try that restaurant out? Travel? Suck it up and ask them out? Finally speak up and tell that friend/coworker that Jesus loves them enough that He gave His life for them? What would you do- seriously? Take a minute to think about it. No rush.



…got it? No? Ok, a few more minutes…


Alright, by now you should have a list of some things you would do with your time left. Ready for this? You are dying. Now live.


Two kinds of crazy.

I know I haven’t written in a while. And to anyone who cares, I’m sorry. I actually have written- several times. But they all ended up being saved as drafts for one reason or another.. mostly because they would have probably insulted your intelligence. This one won’t be long.. it’s just a question that I don’t have an answer to. (I know, what’s new?)

On Tuesday, I started back at Georgia State a week late thanks to the snowpocalypse and MLK.  As I was walking through Woodruff Park between classes, I passed a street preacher yelling about something- probably Hell- I don’t know because I tried to ignore him along with everyone else passing through.  Then I thought of something that I had never really considered before.  I have been going to State for four years now and have seen my fair share of these guys.  My feelings have always been very strong towards them- I can’t stand them.  I cringe every time I walk by one, wondering almost out-loud what they think they’re doing.  Do they think they are helping things?  Do they think they are making Christians look any less crazy or judgmental?  But on Tuesday a new question entered my mind.  Whether it’s a better or worse question is not the point- I just thought it was interesting.  It went something like this.. “What is more offensive to non-Christians.. street preachers screaming to them that they are doomed and must repent or ‘normal’ Christians who believe they are going to Hell but neither do or say anything to try to save them?”  

Which is really crazier?

Food for thought.


White Christmas.

Just like any kid who grew up in the southeast, I prayed and hoped each year for a storybook “white Christmas”.  Snow, I was convinced, would complete everything.  The snowball fights, snowmen, snow angles- could a kid ask for anything better?

This morning I woke up to my first white Christmas and it was as magical as I imagined it would be- but for a much different reason than I have ever considered. The moment I first gazed out the window, I was struck with a deep sense of awe at how appropriate it all was.  I wasn’t thinking of snowmen or being deeply entrenched in snowball warfare (though those things definitely happened). Unblemished perfection was falling from Heaven and covering the earth in its glow. It was changing the landscape. It was changing everything.

What an amazing thing it is we celebrate. Merry Christmas, friends.


I adore how brilliantly C.S. Lewis puts things like this into words. How true this is..

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