It occurs to me that one of my consistent mental exercises is the one where I try to take all the current changes in my life and extrapolate future events. I should say possible future events. This is a close cousin to rehearsing a conversation you are going to have repeatedly before the actual person you plan on talking to is involved. It is kind of like emotional planning. If I can think of all the worst possibilities then I can lessen the sting of surprise, I can better “handle” disappointment if I can expect it fist. I had a student once that was worried about visiting their parents. They spoke about the past of their relationship and just vented about how it all made them feel. While writing this I remember what I told her and am slightly embarrassed because I so often fail to keep my own counsel or heed my own advice. I told her to feel her feelings to pick them up and then put them down and to leave space for her parents to surprise her. Maybe it will all happen as you expec...
In 1906 there began a movement in America which saw the bringing together of both black and white Christians in the Holy Spirit filled worship of God. The movement began in a small house on Bonnie Brae Street in Los Angeles, California. The small congregation soon moved to Azusa Street where it grew and began the Pentecostal movement. This movement crossed racial divides and denominational lines at first, but when it too became a denomination, it reestablished the racial divides were so entrenched at the time. The Azusa Street revival was birthed out of the holiness tradition began by John Wesley. The link between the Azusa Street Revival and Methodists is a focus on the Holy Spirit and focus on a personal experience with God. In my study at Seminary the Azusa Street Revival seemed to be a lynch pin in my study of church history. You almost can’t understand Christianity in America or the Evangelical movement without knowing what happened there. The Holy Spirit moved, and He cha...
Starting at Christmas Eve December 24th, 1914 the British and German soldiers in the trenches at Flanders and Normandy began to realize something was going on. Silence ensued as arms were laid down during the realizations that every soldier would be spending Christmas in hell. Lights were being lit in barbed wire, carols were beginning to be sung in native tongues and Christmas Trees began to appear on both fronts and hundreds of soldiers poured out into no-man's land. One can imagine that this was the first time in months the sky was cleared of smoke to see the stars, and the fog of conflict would be clear for a short miracle. Suddenly the truth of their situation became clear. They were men who loved their countries, men who fought to protect their families, men who had no say to move the front back or forward by so much as an inch, they were not enemies, not really. It seems that it is easier to harbor hatred when the stakes are lower, and great violence and loss can serve to c...
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