Here goes at a start on a series and list, titled; Reasons to be Blinkered.
Part 1. Gonna keep em short 'n sweet, stuff the flowers and wallpaper as far as and slam out the preach. Open with:
There are opinions and debate, and there's informed-opinions and...
THEN, there are herds of elephants, charging around the chapels. Stomping . . .
Grace, is unmerited favour, from God. Undeserved and unable to be earned. Whatever in this world that's of God, maybe unrecognised or fully acknowledged, could be described as common grace.
This goes on to become the Universalist's hope, i.e. those who believe we all get to God in the end, unless utterly 'determined . . .
Considering the blood. And how we're so easily offended.
We who avail ourselves of this wondrous provision, have no need to be. Yet get narked and lash-out. Project on-to. Invariably, through feeling disrespected and in refusing to build controls on irritation. Come an interruption to our expectation, and we like-god/we-think, judge . . .
Truthscoop today is about talking up and out there. This pull back the curtain passage from Paul is ever speculated and concluded upon, in ways I'm rarely entirely satisfied, get it. The litmus is, what wrestle means? And this clearly tireless keep-on-keeping-on expressing out truth to, and with, God. The single defining term: . . .
Making the opposite seem the right way up from previously-held logical reasonableness is the order of the day. Said to be, Down is Up. 'Freedom is the freedom to say that two plus two make four. If that is granted, all else follow' wrote George Orwell.
1984's classic explanation for what's fast ebbing away in the UK. Freedom . . .
Realising again and again, feelings of superiority in judging-down others is the rot. A bad move and habitual, unless arrested at every turn and far-as, remoulded out. 'Sanctification' -- the dynamic and description.
This stupid drunk on-self behaviour, sours our insides and life in Christ. It's a difficult-not, and the demonic . . .
(Not sleeping, so go typing and talking through/to one and only)
Living among a blank generation. And man oh man sense my own blankness. All I can do is scream out. Quiet and physical volume, low aching moans, and needing God. Much, madly, badly -- without sense of circumstantial ease, that keeps me light and... easy.
Stripped of a . . .