God’s principles do work in the earth, but they always fall short without an understanding of the gift of Jesus Christ that makes a living relationship with God possible. New religions and philosophical lifestyles are nothing new. They are a curse if they lead you to believe that your life can be
Mark and Grace Driscoll have written a book on marriage, sex, and friendship with your spouse. It’s spicy. No stranger to controversy, Mark Driscoll has received rabid criticism from other theologically conservative Christians for his NC-17 discussions of sexuality. He’s even inferred that marriages would be stronger if wives gave more oral sex.
Jackson asks what will happen when I die, when my husband dies, when my mom dies. He asks where my Grandma Marjorie is, as he has heard so much about her but never met her. We talk candidly about heaven and it gives me permission to remember what the Bible says about heaven, and to get excited about it.
You discover layers of prejudice beneath prejudice, with sordid little pockets of stuff that comes awfully close to hatred. You see yourself tested and tried and found wanting.
You must TAKE A STAND and FORBID this enemy of your soul from terrorizing you another second, minute, hour of the day! The “AlQaeda” of your spirit is satan and his demons. Remove all “sleeping cells” which are areas of weaknesses through associations with carnal music, filthy TV programs, literature or worldly friendships which empower the enemy who wars against your soul.
feverishly checked the message boards for post-May 21 updates. All those people who quit their jobs, maxed out their credit cards, drove in RVs that said, “May 21, 2011: Judgment Day”—what would they say now? There were no rolling earthquakes, no bodies released from the graves, no Rapture. Were they despairing? Shame-faced? Repentant?
If you don’t know about Pastor Chris Oyakhilome, you should. His ministry is hugely popular in English-speaking Africa and is making inroads all over the world. In his native Nigeria and in South Africa, he’s known for ministering in the miraculous. His Healing School in Johannesburg offers intensive teaching and one-on-one prayer for the sick, sometimes for hours, all at no charge.
I walked around the building twice and didn’t find my son. I alerted security in the recreation facility, which was attached to a large shopping mall, and they began searching in earnest. Thirty minutes went by, and there was no sign of my beloved son. As I walked around, I had been confessing, “Lord, you cannot suffer me to be disgraced; You promised You will never leave or forsake me.”
We all know there are wolves in sheep’s clothing, green snakes under the green grass, and all that glitters is not gold. But for some reason, when it comes to new friends, rather than do our homework, we’re quick to trust them until their true motive is exposed and our heart bleeds from the wound of betrayal. Some people are not that fortunate; the blow they received was so fatal, and they ended up six feet under.
I don’t know many pastors who would hold their smartphones up in a mirror and snap pictures of their reflection. I certainly don’t know any that would do this while wearing Spandex biker shorts, a muscle shirt, and a backward Kangol cap and then send it to a young man. Moreover, four men have come forward with eerily similar stories, and some have offered details of their experiences with Long that most young men would be too embarrassed to share with their closest confidants, much less the public. That’s a lot of smoke.
Camping’s humble pie is cold, and it’s got chunks missing. For example, he is silent about his lingering heresy concerning the Church. Camping fails to mention that his exquisitely blasphemous doomsday timeline also proved that the age of the church was over, and that anyone who went to church was under the control of satan.
The election of the new pope is a prophetic slap in the face for our egotistical excess. I’m not Catholic, and I’ve never completely understood Catholics’ preoccupation with Vatican politics. But I’ve been watching the Vatican closely since last month when Jorge Mario Bergoglio of Argentina became the 266th pope and instantly got two million followers—and counting—on Twitter.
It was a careless choice that resulted in significant trauma. I relive that choice. Every. Day. The force of regret from this experience silently envelops me in its lonely shame whether I try to run from it, attempt to cure it, or try to avoid it. It’s a slow bleed in my heart. A significant trauma can define the contours of life, shaping your reactions, hemming you in when you want to be brave, pulling you into a vortex of what if’s that paralyze you with fear and shame. It could be anything: a choice with devastating results; a betrayal; an addiction; abuse.
If you see any of these seven warning signs in your church, my advice is to run as fast as you can. A friend of mine from England recently asked me for counsel regarding a serious dilemma. His pastor had been involved in extramarital affairs, yet the man never stepped down after the scandal. My friend grew increasingly uncomfortable. Then he became alarmed when the embattled pastor announced he was going to lay hands on every church member during a weekend service to impart “special revelation.”
Full disclosure: I've never cared much for Lance Armstrong. Long before everyone was all abuzz about doping allegations, and maybe even at the height of the seven-time Tour de France winner's battle with testicular cancer, there was something about Armstrong that didn't set well with me. Maybe it was his arrogant demeanor coupled with the fact that he always seemed so downright angry.
If the final knock on the door of your life sounds today, are you truly ready to meet your Maker? Would you be able to say without a shadow of doubt that you maximized your God-given talents and are leaving behind a good legacy for your children’s children? Would you smile at the thought of the many lives you impacted? Or would you immediately fall on your knees in desperation and plead with the Lord to give you another chance to complete the divine assignments you swept under the mat of procrastination?
Election season has been cancerous to the U.S. Body of believers. You’ve no doubt seen or engaged in political and religious discussions that have heated up to a frothy hot mess of gross generalizations and polarizations. Sides must be chosen. Votes must be cast. Vote for Christ or the antichrist.
They called K.A. Paul “the Billy Graham of India.” During his heyday in the 1990s, some Christian leaders in the United States gave big donations to the evangelist, assuming he was using the money to feed thousands of orphans and widows.
Should hot dog, hotel, and hoodie sales be more important than the NCAA’s sanctions against Penn State University? For 15 years top officials at Penn State—including the university’s famed former head football coach, Joe Paterno, or “Joe Pa,” as he was called—squashed allegations that Paterno’s assistant coach, Jerry Sandusky, raped and sexually assaulted 10 boys.
Three years ago a book caught my eye titled The Mystery of 2012: Predictions, Prophecies, & Possibilities. I had just seen a special on the History Channel about Nostradamus and his prophecies concerning the year 2012, so I couldn’t resist the intrigue. I bought the book and immediately began reading it.
I order Chick-fil-A so regularly that those closest to me can recite my order with relaxed confidence: a No. 1 with provolone cheese and a half-sweet, half-unsweetened iced tea. When I moved to Texas, I counted Chick-fil-A proximity as one of my favorite fast-food reasons for loving Dallas. Their menu has mouth-watering appeal; they deliver courteous service (“my pleasure!”) consistently; and they tame the beastly lines they encounter six days a week with panache. I admire the business acumen that uniquely honors the Sabbath.
The photos have a monotonous consistency—homely but functional platform, enormous speakers, towering lights—all facing a sea of brown-skinned humanity as far as the eye and camera can see. I’d seen these photos of Evangelist Reinhard Bonnke’s African crusades before, but they didn’t register as the unbelievable, historic phenomenon they really are until I heard Bonnke speak in a rare stateside appearance in May.
Most times, people honor their fathers or the special men in their lives as a result of the positive impact they made on them. I remember my dad for his gentleness, his love for peace and family. He was known to stick his neck out to a fault for family and friends. Anytime there is as little as a discord-related hiccup in the family today, nine out to 10 times someone will say, “If your dad was alive, he would have prevented it.”
Our rhetoric, while defending the Biblical definition of marriage, can, with posters on lawns and hate speech (no, not preaching the Word, but exhorting congregants to beat the gay out of their children), propagate a false gospel that repels some of the people whom Jesus came to save. This is the opposite of the Great Commission.
I always anticipate the month of March. Aside from welcoming the warmth that comes with spring and flowers blooming (I hate winter), I consider it my favorite month. It sets in motion a wealth of good memories. My dear mother, darling son, favorite niece, generous uncle, and some great friends were all born in March. Also, some life-changing events took place in this month. So when dusk set on February 29, 2012, my mind and outstretched arms were more than ready to receive and bask in the joy of marching into the next 31 days.
The pop diva’s death should remind us of an uncomfortable reality: People in church take drugs.