Afternoon coffee Wakes me from my workday dream— A fleeting escape

Birdsong has replaced The white noise of the office. I do not miss it.

Augustine on the Sinfulness of Greek Gods

Augustine says that by making the Greek gods imperfect, Homer is actually attributing divine attributes to sinful men (not the other way around)—so that men can commit the same sins and say they are just imitating the gods.

But woe unto you, O torrent of human custom! Who shall stay your course? When will you ever run dry? How long will you carry down the sons of Eve into that vast and hideous ocean, which even those who have the Tree (for an ark) can scarcely pass over? Do I not read in you the stories of Jove the thunderer—and the adulterer? How could he be both? But so it says, and the sham thunder served as a cloak for him to play at real adultery. Yet which of our gowned masters will give a tempered hearing to a man trained in their own schools who cries out and says: “These were Homer’s fictions; he transfers things human to the gods. I could have wished that he would transfer divine things to us.” But it would have been more true if he said, “These are, indeed, his fictions, but he attributed divine attributes to sinful men, that crimes might not be accounted crimes, and that whoever committed such crimes might appear to imitate the celestial gods and not abandoned men.”

Prognosticating the Rise (and Fall) of Pajama Boy

Here’s an exchange from a 1987 Firing Line episode where Allan Bloom discusses his book The Closing of the American Mind with William F. Buckley, Jr. Bloom essentially describes Pajama Boy as the feminist solution for keeping families together when there is no meaningful distinction between males and females. He doesn’t hold out much hope for Pajama Boy, though, in a liberal society where people get to do whatever they want.

Buckley: As I understand the points you made in the book, [feminism] is not only a project, it is a project that is bound not to succeed because it is against nature.

Bloom: Of course, I never formulated it in that way. I tied to state it as carefully as possible. There is an argument—I do not believe it to be true—but it of course it is western civilization, male machismo, which is educated and if released, there would be more caring, more nurturing males. I think in our current atmosphere—I mean that of course is obviously a linchpin of a possibility of a newly constructed family where the distinction between male and female wouldn’t be important, that the males have these qualities. And I think in a liberal society where people can do pretty much what they want, you can’t or you’re very unlikely, or almost I would say can’t, count upon a very great proportion of males becoming nurturing. And that seems to me to be a very fundamental need for a certain kind of feminist argument—at least if the family is to stay together. I wouldn’t simply say it’s enough. I try to state these things carefully. I’m more trying to raise the problem, theoretically, because the relation of men to women is a complicated thing; it has a long history. I have two things: I don’t want to give easy answers myself. But more importantly, I don’t want that whole history wiped out, which is in philosophy and particularly in literature, so that one can reconsider what you lose and what you gain.

Firing Line with William F. Buckley, Jr.

The Religion of Anti-Racism

John McWhorter (Professor of English, Columbia University) on how the modern anti-racism movement is a religion:

Anti-racism, as it is currently configured, has gone a long way from what used to be considered intelligent and sincere civil rights activism. Today it’s a religion. And I don’t mean that as a rhetorical feint. I mean that it actually is what any naive anthropologist would recognize as a faith. And people, many of whom don’t think of themselves as religious, but Galileo would recognize them quite easily. So, for example, the idea that the responsible white person is supposed to attest to their white privilege and realize that it can never go away and feel eternally guilty about it: that’s original sin, right there. The idea that there is going to be a day when America comes to terms with race—or that there could be—what does that even mean? What is the meaning of the coming to terms? What would that consist of? Who would come to them? What would the terms be? At what date would this be? The only reason that anyone says that is because it corresponds to our conception of Judgment Day, and it’s equally abstract. When we use the word problematic, especially since about 2008 or -09, what we’re really saying is blasphemous. It’s really the exact same term. Or, the suspension of disbelief that is a characteristic of religious faith—there’s an extent to which logic is considered no longer to apply—that’s how we talk about racism.

How Anti-Racism Hurts Black People - John McWhorter

Ranch Dudes

Found this old Western gem in my grandmother’s photo collection. Not sure where it was taken or what the context is, but looking at it I feel like I’ve stepped into a Roy Rogers film.

Therefore I Did Not Let You Touch Her

But God came to Abimelech in a dream by night and said to him, “Behold, you are a dead man because of the woman whom you have taken, for she is a man’s wife.” Now Abimelech had not approached her. So he said, “Lord, will you kill an innocent people? Did he not himself say to me, ‘She is my sister’? And she herself said, ‘He is my brother.’ In the integrity of my heart and the innocence of my hands I have done this.” Then God said to him in the dream, “Yes, I know that you have done this in the integrity of your heart, and it was I who kept you from sinning against me. Therefore I did not let you touch her.

Genesis 20:3–6

I came across this passage recently and was strangely encouraged. Abraham lies to Abimelech, saying that Sarah is his sister. So the king takes her in to his house. But before he can do anything to Sarah, God appears to him in a dream and reveals to him that Sarah is a married woman. It is easy to get discouraged by your sin, to see the places where you struggle and wonder if God is even changing you at all. In this passage, though, we see a man who is unaware that he is about to sin, and the only thing that keeps him from doing so is God himself intervening in the situation. (Abimelech even tries to appeal to his own innocence and integrity of heart, but God assures him that it was He, in fact, who kept him from sinning.) My tendency in areas of struggle is to focus on how far I fall short. Yet in the story of Abimelech, it is God’s sheer mercy that keeps him from sinning. May I remember Abimilech the next time I begin to think that sanctification is a battle I must fight on my own.

People Who Live in Social Media Houses

The era of social media has brought about some interesting changes to ordinary life. We live in a time when it is common to form acquaintances, which in time may even grow into friendships, with complete strangers on the Internet. (Although, I must step back and acknowledge the fact that most friendships begin with two strangers meeting.) Chances are you shared an interest with that person, whether that be politics or sports or music or faith. Maybe someone retweeted him into your timeline or a website algorithm suggested that you might like to follow her.

But all of this is a rambling preamble (preramble?) to what, or who, I wanted to talk about: Karen. (We’ll call her Karen for the purpose of this post.) Sometime about ten years ago my wife had the opportunity to play at the House of Blues on Sunset Strip in Los Angeles. As you can imagine, she was excited at the possibility of someone from the music business being in the audience and (more realistically) at the chance to expand her fan base. The guy she was opening for was a blander version of Dave Matthews (if you can believe that’s possible), but he was a hustler and had built up a sizable following in a town full of hundreds of people trying to do the exact same thing. Karen was one of his fans. She was a middle-aged woman, probably in her fifties, and you could tell she loved live music. After my wife finished her set, she came to our merch table and bought a CD. She raved about my wife’s music and was one of those people who treat you like they’ve known you your whole life when they first meet you. She signed up for my wife’s mailing list, we said good bye and then parted ways.

And then, she followed my wife on Facebook. She started to comment on family pictures. She wished our children happy birthday. She posted generic aphorisms when my wife wrote about something that had upset her. In short, it felt like she was trying to become a part of our family. My wife has considered blocking her, but truthfully she’s never crossed a line into being inappropriate. I don’t know whether she’s a lonely person or if she has issues with recognizing normal social boundaries. And to be honest, unless you make your account private, this is what we all sign up for with social media. To paraphrase Harry Truman: If you can’t stand the heat, delete your account.”

Can a poem write itself?

Geoffrey Lehmann, in an interview with the Sydney Morning Herald:

“Poems are always given. You don’t write a poem, a poem writes itself….You occasionally do fake a poem and you know it,” Lehmann says. “Sometimes those fake poems confuse other people. They think it is a real poem but you know that it wasn’t really a poem, it was dictated. You cobbled it together cleverly. You didn’t have any real urge for it. Poetry is a very strange thing.”

I used to believe what Lehmann asserts here and on more than one occasion have experienced the phenomenon of “capturing” a song out of thin air. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve rejected this notion—although I wonder if I’ve swung too far to the other extreme. While I think I know what Lehmann is getting at when he says he “knows” when a poem “wasn’t really a poem,” I think it’s silly to say that a poem someone has constructed through meticulous addition and subtraction, trial and error, is not a real poem. The true test of any poem’s success is how it is received by the reader or the hearer.

At the same time, I can’t outright deny the experience of setting something down on paper (or computer screen) in a quick and effortless fashion that feels fully formed. People speak of “channeling” a poem and may even believe that God (or some other spirit) gave the poem to him or her. I don’t completely rule out spiritual intervention, especially for pagans who engage in practices like automatic writing and potentially open themselves up to the spiritual realm.

Nor do I discount the possibility of God aiding a writer with certain words, or at least aiding him with a momentary, heightened ability to order words in a pleasant or meaningful way. At any rate, I don’t think we need to completely understand this phenomenon or pursue something that God has not revealed to us in order to acknowledge the poet’s experience of “being inspired.” As believers, we should neither accept a sub-Christian view of inspiration, nor should we deny the fact that some works of art have additional momentum behind them which cannot be simply explained by the artist’s hard work.


Is it greater to analyze

Or at one's will recollect?

Greater still when these synthesize

In the same man's intellect.

Simply White

Just realized I need to look for a more inclusive toothpaste.

Coffee with Kendrick

Last night I watched part of an interview between Rick Rubin and Kendrick Lamar. I know little about Lamar. I’ve only heard snippets of his music. Based on the interview, though, he seems like an intelligent, curious, creative guy. It got me thinking about how we talk about race and racism in America. We generally speak in systematic terms, as though every person from a particular ethnic or cultural background has the same experience. Now, I’m not denying the reality of shared experiences among people who come from the same place. But I found myself watching the interview, interested in this man—as a man—and not looking to find the correct labels to affix to the rapper in my mind.

He did speak about where he came from—growing up in Compton and the challenges that entailed. After the interview, I watched his video for Alright. It doesn’t paint cops in a good light, and I don’t like or agree with that message. But I also don’t know all the experiences that he’s had with cops. Acknowledging that fact doesn’t mean that I suddenly toss my respect for law enforcement out the window—nor does it mean that I completely disregard Lamar’s experiences. Life is complex. Glomming onto talking points only further entrenches you in the polemic you’ve chosen. One of the maddening things about discussing race in America is this pressure to either completely skew the experiences of another group or become mawkishly PC.

There are some things you can only know by looking into another man’s eyes. Watching the interview with Lamar made me want to sit down and have my own conversation with him. A quick chat over coffee. Maybe it would be awkward. Maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe we’d find things in common to discuss. Maybe we wouldn’t. Maybe we’d like one another. Maybe we wouldn’t. The point is: I would be talking to him—Kendrick Lamar—not Black America.

Breaking Up Big Green

In 1982, AT&T agreed to break up what for decades had been a monopoly on telephone service in the United States. The smaller regional spin-offs were nicknamed “Baby Bells,” a reference to the fact that AT&T traced its lineage back to Bell Telephone Company (as in Alexander Graham Bell). I propose that it’s time to do something similar with The Gospel Coalition. In the span of just 14 years, it has become one of the major hubs of mainstream evangelical thought—certainly the biggest of the Reformedish world. And as such, they have become gatekeepers of The Conversation.

But first, what is it exactly that they do? Are they a denomination? A website? A conference promoter? An advocacy group? The answer to all of these questions, of course, is yes. So, I propose this simple plan: Break up The Gospel Coalition into six separate, self-governing organizations, which I outline below:

  1. The website. Ask most Christians familiar with The Gospel Coalition (TGC) what it is, and I am willing to bet a majority answer “a website.” What initially was supposed to serve TGC as a resource has become synonymous with the organization itself. Since the website won the branding war, it gets to keep the name. As it currently does, the website will continue to feature a daily dose of blogs, explainer pieces, and linked articles.

  2. Conference producer. TGC has already expanded its operations in recent years, branching out into regional conferences. It holds a women’s conference every two years. My recommendation would be for the conference group to merge with Together for the Gospel and rebrand themselves as GospelCon. Many of the regular speakers already appear at both conferences.

  3. Denomination. TGC would likely not admit this, but in many ways it is already acting as a denomination. Their Council alone has 52 members, many of whom are pastors. Since the website already won the naming rights, the denomination could be incorporated as Third Way Church. They would retain The Gospel Coalition missional initiatives and ecclesiastical resources. Each church currently listed in the website directory that is not a part of a denomination would automatically be grandfathered into the Third Way denomination. Members of the Council who are pastors or elders of churches that belong to an existing denomination could return to ministering to those congregations, where they are needed most.

  4. Publishing house. The Gospel Coalition publishing arm is basically an imprint of Crossway Publishing already, so it would simply be absorbed by Crossway.

  5. Online education. The Gospel Coalition’s collection of online courses is impressively deep. This group would be relaunched as Gospel U and partner with Phil Vischer’s Big Idea Productions to produce animated courses for all age levels.

  6. Social justice advocacy group. Russell Moore, Kyle Howard, and Timothy Isaiah Cho would spearhead this group. They would keep control of the MLK Conference and take over the Revoice Conference. They would also act as a lobbying group, but instead of lobbying politicians they would lobby local churches.

In my modest proposal, each one of these new organizations would only become stronger as they are freed up to focus their time and energy on a singular goal. It’s time to break up Big Green.

A Trick of Memory

Why do some periods of one’s life seem to completely evaporate from memory? My first job was working as a bag boy at a Kroger in Spring, TX. I was 16, and it was the summer between my sophomore and junior years. Beyond that, I remember little about the job. I do remember learning how to pack things as tightly as possible in a grocery bag, always making sure the sturdiest products were at the bottom. That and gathering shopping carts in the rain.

I also distinctly recall blowing most of my earnings on baseball cards and other related paraphernalia that summer. A big Cubs fan at the time, I spent $65 (probably a week’s pay!) on a signed Ryne Sandberg batting glove. At least that’s what the owner of the collectibles shop assured me it was; it didn’t come with any documentation. (I’ve always wanted to get a professional to examine the glove and confirm it’s legit.)

Other memories from that time of my life blend together. I moved to Houston in the summer of 1990. Before then I had never listened to much classic rock. Maybe it was the friends I fell in with, but my early years in Houston were a crash course on the Steve Miller Band, Journey, Rush, Foreigner, and of course Led Zeppelin. Strange to think I was closer then to the release of Steve Miller’s The Joker than we are today to Smells Like Teen Spirit—by over a decade, in fact!


“Who are you?” shouted the man as he raced from his car toward the front door of his house. “What are you doing with my stuff?!”

Men in navy blue windbreakers and earpieces with coiled cables moved briskly about, carrying out all of the man’s earthly belongings and loading them up in the back of an unmarked white truck. He winced as one of the meatheads scraped the edge of his flat screen against the corner of his garage.

A man with a buzz cut so flat you could set a table on it walked up to him.

“Are you 3WolfMoon79?”

“You mean on Twitter?”

“You’re going to have to come with us.”

“Why? Where are you taking me?”

“We’re upgrading you.”

“Upgrading me? But why? I like it here.”

“Sir, we’ve been monitoring your social media usage and, well, quite frankly, we’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Am I in trouble?”

“No, far from it. Like I said, we’re upgrading you.”

“But I don’t want—”

“Mr. Three Wolf, come with us, and we’ll explain everything.”

“But that’s not my—”

The agent grabbed his elbow and guided him into the back seat of a black Town Car.

“You still haven’t told me what you’re doing with my stuff.” 3WolfMoon79 stared helplessly at the man with the rigid gray hair.

“You’re not going to need any of those things where you’re going. Everything will be provided. In fact, you will be hooked into the Console 24-7. You’ll be able to communicate with anyone at any time. Want to say hi to that cute anime girl in Ohio you’ve been chatting with? Just think it. Voila.”

“How do you know about her?”

The man chuckled quietly and looked out the window.


The Players

Today I was thinking about what a movie directed by David Lynch that surveyed the current landscape of American Christianity would look like. It would definitely call for an ensemble cast, featuring actors that you didn’t necessarily expect but that somehow made sense in their roles. I have attempted to come up with a list of actors who could faithfully play these religious luminaries and have shared the result below. Some of the choices may seem a little counter-intuitive, but mull over them a while and see if you don’t find yourself agreeing. So without further ado, here’s the cast for the movie about American Christianity that no one asked for:

  • John Piper - Larry David

  • Joel Osteen - Tom Cruise

  • Beth Moore - Holly Hunter

  • John MacArthur - Tommy Lee Jones

  • Ed Stetzer - Elvis Costello

  • Ann Voskamp - Kristin Wiig

  • Perry Noble - Woody Harrelson

  • Steven Furtick - Joaquin Phoenix

  • Carl Lentz - Justin Timberlake

  • Tim Keller - I’m torn between two actors to play Keller. I’d be happy with either Wallace Shawn (Vizzini in The Princess Bride) or Bob Balaban (had a recurring role on Seinfeld as Russell Dalrymple, the fictional president of NBC).

  • Mark Driscoll - Vincent D’Onofrio

  • Mark Dever - Kevin Spacey

  • Francis Chan - Jay Chou

  • Michael Horton - Gary Oldman

  • James MacDonald - Nicholas Cage

  • Thabiti Anyabwile - Forest Whitaker

  • Kevin DeYoung - Jon Heder

  • Albert Mohler - Kelsey Grammer

  • T.D. Jakes - Tyler Perry

  • James White - John Malkovich

Night breathes her last breath

Night breathes her last breath;

A skein of geese fly close to us,

Honking overhead.


Hidden in Christ

As an editor, when you’re doing your job well, no one notices you. Let a typo slip through, and Roger the engineer who took one English class in college will be sure to let you know. Rarely will someone come to you and say, “I read that e-mail you sent to clients today. The prose was crisp and cogent, and I couldn’t find a single error.”

As Christians, we have a similar path. To be sure, we are told to expect suffering. Jesus blesses those who are persecuted for righteousness’s sake and reviled on account of His name. There will be times when we stick out in the crowd because this world is not our home. But we are also told to “aspire to live quietly and to mind [our] own affairs.”  We are instructed to live peaceably with all, insofar as it depends on us.

So, we may be persecuted. But more often than not, we are simply overlooked. We don’t seek to draw attention to ourselves and celebrate our successes. We generally don’t receive accolades from unbelievers for faithfully following God. And yet, we know all too well that our work is not perfect. We see all the typos, flaccid verbs, and stilted language—even if others don’t. Thankfully, we have a perfect savior whose righteousness covers all of our sin and wipes our slate clean.


Meditation sounds much more profound than “blog post,” doesn’t it? I don’t write blog posts. I bring forth meditations.

What’s on your mind tonight as you sit down to write? The bills you have to pay or how you need to get your budget in shape? By all means, write about that. But just class it up a bit: A Meditation on the Fleeting Nature of Material Wealth and the Things That Are Passing Away.

Kids got you tired and frustrated? A Meditation on Children and the Passage of Time.

Want to unleash pure, unmitigated fury on your favorite political whipping boy, yet retain an air of respectability? A Meditation on the Chasm that Separates Nancy Pelosi and All Good Sense.

Feel the need to share your thoughts on the Keto diet? A Meditation on Craving and Blind Ketogenic Rage

Now for a little meta-tation. *waits for nonesxistent applause*

Meditate comes from the Latin word meditatus (past participle of meditari), which means “to consider or plan out.” It’s the frequentative form of the Indo-European root med, (“measure”), which means that it describes an action that is repeated. Blogging is a repeated (hopefully!) action in which you consider different topics, so I think labeling these entries as meditations actually makes a lot of sense. Not to mention the measuring of time you engage in as you race the clock, pondering how you’re going to write something coherent in the thirty minutes you have left before you collapse in bed exhausted.

Take Heart: You're Worse Than You Think You Are

Most people don’t like being told that they’re depraved. Even as a Christian, it took me a while to fully accept the doctrine of human depravity. Everything in your sinful flesh wants to defend yourself as a good person. In recent years, though, an understanding of depravity has actually quelled much anxiety in me and has been a light shining into the depths of my soul. I gratefully acknowledge that God has regenerated me and delivered me from the kingdom of darkness into the kingdom of his Son, and that He is conforming me to His image. But when God reveals hidden sin in me or I struggle with a besetting sin now, I am less prone to be taken by surprise or throw my hands up in despair.

Thinking that you are essentially good and don’t need saving is just as exhausting as if you think that you can earn your salvation through your own merit and hard work. In either case, you end up spinning your wheels trying to prove your goodness (or relative goodness, if you’re a little more honest), which is a fool’s errand for a human born into sin. The doctrine of total depravity teaches us that there is no part of us that has not in some way been corrupted by sin. Armed with that knowledge, we can pray to God when he reveals our sinfulness, asking Him for forgiveness and that His Spirit would help us to put that sin to death.

I don’t want to give the impression that I’m not grieved by my sin. I pray that God would grant me a contrite heart when I do sin. But a repentant heart can approach the throne of grace instead of cowering in fear of God’s rejection. We may still get frustrated when we fall short. We may even sometimes struggle with believing that God has forgiven us. But understanding that God is the One who sanctifies us and that sin will not be completely vanquished in us until we enter heaven in glory, we can place our hope in the author and finisher of our faith—alone.

Free Sermon Ideas, Installment #1

I follow a lot of pastors on Twitter and thought I’d try to be helpful and come up with some sermon ideas they can use when their inspiration runs dry. So here’s the first installment of what I hope will be a recurring series:

  • Aquaman and the Biblical Case for Immersion

  • Sniff Harder: Fruit-Checking Your Way to Assurance

  • Stop Playing Tetris with Your Life: Trusting God When the Pieces Don’t Fit

  • Facebook in the Old Testament: When Joseph’s Brothers Unfriended Him

  • Being a Judges 4:21 Woman

If you’re a pastor and you use any of these ideas, let me know how things go!

Just One More, Dad

I tell my boys a bedtime story almost every night. Assuming that I started telling stories when my oldest was two (he’s now eight and a half) and that I’ve averaged a story every other night, that would mean I’ve told about 1200 bedtime stories. But I think my pace has been closer to two stories every three nights. In that case, I would’ve told about 1600 stories. Let’s split the difference just to be safe and say that I’ve told somewhere around 1400 stories. And let’s say that each story was 20 minutes long (again, I think this estimate may be low; many of my stories—including the countless interruptions from my sons, who are burgeoning storytellers in their own right and have their own well-developed ideas about believable characters and dramatic reversals—eclipse the 30- or even 45-minute mark). But we’ll be conservative and say the average duration is 20 minutes. That means I’ve spent about 28,000 minutes engaged as nocturnal raconteur. That’s 460 hours of yarn-spinning. Or just a skosh over 19 days of my life telling tall tales.

I don’t claim many (or most) of these have been great stories. But my boys seem to have liked them, so that’s the important thing. We have a rotating cast of recurring characters. When my sons were younger, Derek the Duck and Ricky Raccoon figured into a goodly number of stories. Now that my sons are older and more discerning, sophisticated characters like Stretchy McStretcherson and Bilbo Cattens people (or “animal,” as the case may be) their stories.

I have fallen asleep on numerous occasions when the spell of storytelling has worked its magic on me before it has been so successful on my sons. (It is inadvisable and highly dangerous to tell a bedtime story lying on your back.) Sometimes I don’t feel like rattling my brain for yet another crisis, climax, and denouement—and then my boys prevail upon me for one more story. When they’re “too old” for bedtime stories, I’m sure I’ll miss it. And then I’ll be the one begging them for just one more story.

Fear of the Blank Mind

It’s taken me five days to get to this point—to the point where I feel like all I can write about is not having anything to write about. The French call it le syndrome de la page blanche, which roughly translated, as I understand it, means “fear of the blank page.” But I don’t fear the blank page so much as I fear writing about not having anything to write about.

For any writer, I think there is usually a period of the writing session where he is simply trying to get his bearings. Find his rhythm. Figure out what it is exactly that he’s trying to say. Most bloggers (do people still blog?) don’t have (or don’t take) the time for extensive rewrites, which is why many blogs are painful to read. Entries often feel like someone punctured a carotid artery and just let the reader get covered with the hematic mist.

I thought about tweeting “What should I write about?” and crowdsourcing my ideation to the hive, but it always smacks of laziness when I see others do that. So don’t expect a lot of these posts. I’ll give myself assignments if I have to. I’ll write about falling asleep on the floor of my boys’ room as I tell their bedtime story or how I find myself racing dudes in Dodge Chargers who cut me off on the way to work—more often than I’d like to admit.

So give me a pass. Just this once.

Stepping Out of the Shadows

I occasionally see people post 280-character screeds on Twitter about why they’re anonymous—how their enemies try to shame them for being anonymous because they want to dox them and get them fired, or bring down the wrath of the hivemind upon them. And there is a great amount of truth to this. I don’t begrudge anyone who wants to be anonymous. It is a wiser (or at least safer) route to take when you say things that are going to stir up the ire of the world. I have been anonymous in the past, and I’m currently semi-anonymous on Twitter (although I’ve fairly recently included both my first and last name in my handle). Certainly you should think and act carefully when presenting yourself online. But for all the good reasons for being anonymous, some people do hide behind anonymity to abuse others. Not all anons for sure, but you’d be disingenuous to deny that a good number of anons use their anonymity to attack others without worrying about the consequences that would follow otherwise.

As a Christian, I want to stand behind my words. If I am going to suffer, I want it to be because I am associated with Christ, not because I did something stupid on the Internet. Stepping out from the shadows of anonymity, I hope, will keep me accountable for what I say on social media.

A Few Drops

Most days,

My thoughts

Run off like rainwater

And head for deeper earth.

But today

I place a small plastic bowl

Under the gutter

To gather

A few drops—

Just to say I did.