The God Who Bleeds
“Well, He bleeds just like every other crook…”
“Well, He bleeds just like every other crook…”
Let my pain reveal your glory as my only real rest.
My body was imploding within me and I didn’t even feel it.
Do you miss your great-great grandparents?
Everyone dies twice: The day you die, and the last time anyone says your name.
The decline of evangelicalism forces us to choose a side: hot or cold; no more lukewarm Christianity.
I’m enjoying this idyllic afternoon, but soon enough, pain will return. Soon it will be my turn to suffer again.
And then one day it all goes black. All the stories you’ve held in your chest are released to fly into the night. It’s like waking up from a long sleep, but instead of morning grog, you are met with stunning clarity.
The natural progression of all things toward death is what makes them beautiful.