“Our once great western Christian civilization is dying. If this matters to followers of Jesus Christ, then we must set aside our denominational differences and work together to strengthen the things that remain and reclaim what has been lost. Evangelicals and Catholics must stand together to re-establish that former Christian culture and moral consensus. We have the numbers and the organization but the question is this: Do we have the will to win this present spiritual battle for Jesus Christ against secularism? Will we prayerfully and cooperatively work toward a new Christian spiritual revival ― or will we choose to hunker down in our churches and denominationalisms and watch everything sink into the spiritual and moral abyss of a New Dark Age?” - Mark Davis Pickup

Thursday, November 15, 2018


My father
& me
I have always had a good imagination, beginning in early childhood. My father often ruffled my hair and referred to me as his daydreamer. My mother often yanked my ear and called me a scatterbrain. A strong imagination can be a blessing, it can also be a curse. 

A dream is worth dreaming when it brings beauty to
life but not when it causes pain. To hope in a hope that can not be or will not happen is no hope at all. I hoped for love and it was beautiful because it was possible and it came true.

I dreamed of health but it only brought pain. But
savage attacks of multiple sclerosis also taught me that sometimes dreams were all I had. When the truth of my circumstance was too much to bear, I retreated to dreams. I dreamt of how things could have been or might have been.

It was in that dreamland that I discovered a reality on a different dimension, a dimension that made the realities of this world pale in comparison. Ironic. The Author of all reality met me in my pain and invited me to unite my suffering with His salvific suffering. 

And so I replaced ethereal dreams with the
objective reality of Jesus Christ because he met me in my deepest anguish when nobody else could or would. He understood me more completely than I understood myself. He loved me when I was unlovable.

That is why my first loyalty is to Christ. That is why I speak of Him when I give speeches. A secular disability group once asked me to give a keynote address to their annual national conference. The spokesperson said, "We want you to speak but we don't want any of that Jesus crap." I responded, "If I can't speak of Christ, then I have nothing to say. He is my hope." She withdrew the invitation.

An agnostic or atheist might respond that all my talk of dreams and belief in God are nothing more than a cruel disease affecting my mind. If that be the case then leave me to my dreams, let me believe in something higher than what is here. I am content. Cynics would strip me of my belief in Christ—if it
was possible—and let me sink in despair then offer me the secular progressive's solution to my anguish: A lethal injection.

No thank you. I choose a different and better reality: Jesus Christ.

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