Fictional Memoirs: Stone them

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And you who judge – casting the blame, the indictment of shame – you have no excuse. You who caste indictment upon others in the name of being a good judge of character, you have no excuse. Justifying grounds for you are looser than an untied shoe. Alas, justice and fairness must be dealt. “Thank God I am not a woman,” you pray.

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Fictional Memoirs: Bad Christian

I’m a beggar telling other beggars where to find food.

Real food is needed. Real truth is where unction meets function. Disciples will not be made until our pride is reduced like hide.

Life is built upon life. Cheap tricks won’t save a life lost in a cave.  We won’t use banana splits or any other gimmicks that are only counterproductive and destructive.

How many times will the youth pastor shave his head before he saves the spiritually dead? Continue reading

Fictional Memoirs: A Poor Excuse

 

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There’s so much to do. So much. I haven’t a clue,

how to hold the door open for the person behind me. I didn’t ask for them to find me. I didn’t ask for them. They ought to know better than to follow my heed. All I have in my heart is greed. Here I am; male, twenty-two and still struggling to be cool. I don’t know how to act when the pressure is on. I get sidetracked and pretend to be withdrawn. I don’t know how to dress. I’m really a mess. Continue reading