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The Cloud that Won’t Move

Imagine, as I did the other day, a toddler raised by an ardent, prophecy-hungry, dispensationalist mother. The little boy runs in from the back yard, anxious to discuss some playground injustice. Tommy:  Brendon keeps throwing snails at me!  Mommy:  Did you ask him to stop? Tommy:  I did! Twice! Mommy:  Well, listen, Tommy, we have to remember..

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It Has to Get Worse, Right?

Politichicks ran an article of mine this morning on the subject of having fun.  My super short, mini-micro, two paragraph thesis is that conservatives need to combine celebration, romance, music, good food and fine wine with the task of “taking back America.”  The Bible is a divine record of knowing there is a time for..

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The Naked Truth

The year is 1967.  I am standing in a long hall of monumental statuary and painting, and I am wearing a cub scout uniform, along with several other boys from my church. We are about the business of culture here, an art museum of some sort. This little afternoon field trip is meant to sprinkle..

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