Why Unbelievers Hate Christians

Amen!

Infected Saint


To be a genuine Christian in this day and age is no easy task. The culture berates you at every turn for taking a stand: “How can you not be ok with same sex marriages?”; “How can you believe all that fairy tale crazy talk about an ark, David and Goliath, and resurrection?”; “How can you not see every religion as good as your own?”; “How can you be so judgmental?”

The negative rhetoric is increasing in intensity against Chrisitans as our culture turns further away from recognizing God as Sovereign and Majestic. The word of the day is “tolerance.” They speak tolerance but behind the words we see a more sinister evil at work. Here is the common attitude of the nonbeliever and what they are really saying to Christians:

Christian, my belief or non-belief should be ok with you because I say it is. That’s all that should…

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Solid Food, Part 1 – When Bad Things Happen to Good People

A Lawyer's Prayers

Enfamil Baby Formula at Kroger, Author ParentingPatch (CC BY-SA 3.0 Unported)

“For everyone who partakes only of milk is unskilled in the word of righteousness, for he is a babe.  But solid food belongs to those who are of full age, that is, those who by reason of use have their senses exercised to discern both good and evil” (Heb. 5: 13-14).

Too many Christians are unschooled in their faith.  They are, in effect, still babes.  Because of this, their faith is not the comfort to them it could be, and not the example to others it should be.

Confronted by the harsh realities of this existence, immature Christians are at first surprised that God has not shielded them from the pain and hardship to which mankind is liable, then angered at having been sold what they view as a bill of goods about Him.

  • Surely, Christians are not subject…

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The Man In The Mirror

Unshakable Hope

Can you imagine going a whole month without seeing yourself in a mirror?

If you’re a follower of my blog, you know that I’ve had ALS for almost 21 years, and that I’m totally paralyzed and home-bound. In addition to an excellent nurse visiting me once a month to confirm that I’m still alive, a very nice lady also comes to our home once a month to cut my hair. She came the other day to cut my hair so Mary maneuvered my wheelchair into the bathroom in front of the dreaded mirror (mirrors don’t lie). “Who is that guy with gray hair and big bags under his eyes?” I asked myself.

You see, unless I ask Mary or my caregiver to place me in front of the mirror, which, for obvious reasons, I rarely do, haircut time is the only time I have to face this 56 year old…

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