Crazy Bible Quotes

What's crazy is living your life according to some book written by someone who couldn't imagine what your life would be like.

It's crazy isn't it?" She shook her head. "You have to believe it, but you hate it. I don't have to believe it, and I think it's beautiful." She shook her head again. "It's crazy.

The concept of downsizing so that others might upgrade is biblical, beautiful...and nearly unheard of. We either close the gap or don't take the words of the Bible literally.

What's the point of quoting the Bible to people who don't believe it's true" Dad would say.

People may break your heart and drive you crazily. God is the only dependable person you should rely on.

I'd be adrift in an ocean of uncertainty." Yes, and perhaps that's the only honest place to be. Another name for uncertainty is humility. No one ever blew up a mosque, church, or abortion clinic after yelling, "I could be wrong.

The Bible teaches that true joy is formed in the midst of the difficult seasons of life.

God's plans and dreams for us always point to our success. No matter how much we need to learn along the way, He always desires our good. He is not only faithful, He is infinitely wise.

The idea tells you everything. Lots of times I get ideas, I fall in love with them. Those ones you fall in love with are really special ideas. And, in some ways, I always say, when something's abstract, the abstractions are hard to put into words unless you're a poet. These ideas you somehow know. And cinema is a language that can say abstractions. I love stories, but I love stories that hold abstractions--that can hold abstractions. And cinema can say these difficult-to-say-in-words things. A lot of times, I don't know the meaning of the idea, and it drives me crazy. I think we should know the meaning of the idea. I think about them, and I tell this story about my first feature Eraserhead. I did not know what these things meant to me--really meant. And on that particular film, I started reading the Bible. And I'm reading the Bible, going along, and suddenly--there was a sentence. And I said, forget it! That's it. That's this thing. And so, I should know the meaning for me, but when things get abstract, it does me no good to say what it is. All viewers on the surface are all different. And we see something, and that's another place where intuition kicks in: an inner-knowingness. And so, you see a thing, you think about it, and you feel it, and you go and you sort of know something inside. And you can rely on that. Another thing I say is, if you go--after a film, withholding abstractions--to a coffee place--having coffee with your friends, someone will say something, and immediately you'll say “No, no, no, no, that's not what that was about.” You know? “This is what it was about.” And so many things come out, it's surprising. So you do know. For yourself. And what you know is valid.

Cruel World" Share my body and my mind with you, That's all over now. Did what I had to do, 'Cause it's so far past me now. Share my body and my life with you, That's way over now. There's not more I can do, You're so famous now. Got your bible, got your gun, And you like to party and have fun. And I like my candy and your women, I'm finally happy now that you're gone. Put my little red party dress on, Everybody knows that I'm the best, I'm crazy. Get a little bit of bourbon in ya, Get a little bit suburban and go crazy. Because you're young, you're wild, you're free, You're dancin' circles around me, You're fuckin' crazy. Oh, oh, you're crazy for me. I shared my body and my mind with you, That's all over now. I did what I had to do, I found another anyhow. Share my body and my mind with you, That's all over now. I did what I had to do, I could see you leaving now. I got your bible and your gun, And you love to party and have fun. And I love your women and all of your heroin, And I'm so happy now that you're gone. Put my little red party dress on, Everybody knows that I'm a mess, I'm crazy, yeah-yeah. Get a little bit of bourbon in ya, Go a little bit suburban and go crazy, yeah-yeah. Because you're young, you're wild, you're free, You're dancin' circles around me, You're fuckin' crazy. Oh, oh, you're crazy for me. Got your bible and your gun, You like your women and you like fun. I like my candy and your heroin, And I'm so happy, so happy now you're gone. Put my little red party dress on, Everybody knows that I'm a mess, I'm crazy, yeah-yeah. Get a little bit of bourbon in ya, Get a little bit suburban and go crazy, yeah-yeah. 'Cause you're young, you're wild, you're free, You're dancin' circles around me, You're fuckin' crazy. Oh, oh, you're crazy for me. Oh, oh, you're crazy for me.

I’m always intrigued by my nonsensical concern with picking out a bunch of things that look exactly alike the ones that somehow I feel are the best and belong to me. It’s that same crazy urge or superstition, or whatever it is, that makes me open a Bible in a hotel room, hoping for some great happenstance spiritual word of advice. More often than not, I hit a long passage of begats and begots, which contain little inspiration other than the fact that procreation is the highest aim of life.

When you are happy for other people's dreams, your dreams start jumping up with joy. Elizabeth was happy with Mary and her dream baby was jumping in her womb crazily for joy!

You don't choose anything important. It just happens. The only choice you have is if you'll make life's accidents work.

The particular myth that's been organizing this talk, and in a way the whole series, is the story of the Tower of Babel in the Bible. The civilization we live in at present is a gigantic technological structure, a skyscraper almost high enough to reach the moon. It looks like a single world-wide effort, but it's really a deadlock of rivalries; it looks very impressive, except that it has no genuine human dignity. For all its wonderful machinery, we know it's really a crazy ramshackle building, and at any time may crash around our ears. What the myth tells us is that the Tower of Babel is a work of human imagination, that its main elements are words, and that what will make it collapse is a confusion of tongues. All had originally one language, the myth says. The language is not English or Russian or Chinese or any common ancestor, if there was one. It is the language that makes Shakespeare and Pushkin authentic poets, that gives a social vision to both Lincoln and Gandhi. It never speaks unless we take the time to listen in leisure, and it speaks only in a voice too quiet for panic to hear. And then all it has to tell us, when we look over the edge of our leaning tower, is that we are not getting any nearer heaven, and that it is time to return to earth. [p.98]

This book is a guide to living life the right way, like the Bible is for crazies and weak people (JK, bro), this book should be to you.

Sometimes it takes a crazy person to see the world clearly.

Non-churchgoers tend to see Christians as takers rather than givers. When Christians sacrifice and give wildly to the poor, that is truly a light that glimmers. The Bible teaches that the church is to be that light, that sign of hope, in an increasingly dark and hopeless world.

The Old Man was a lunatic, but he was a good, kind lunatic, and he couldn’t no more be a sane man in his transactions with his fellow white man than you and I can bark like a dog, for he didn’t speak their language. He was a Bible man. A God man. Crazy as a bedbug. Pure to the truth, which will drive any man off his rocker. But at least he knowed he was crazy. At least he knowed who he was. That’s more than I could say for myself.

Well, I may not have a framed Latin diploma, but I know crazy talk when I hear it. Alcohol has been an important part of the human diet for thousands of years. The Bible is filled with references to people drinking alcohol, such as this quotation from the Book of Effusions, Chapter Eight, Verse Six, Row 7:

We’re finding each other out here, and it’s beautiful and crazy and churchy and holy. We are simply getting on with it, with the work of justice and mercy, the glorious labor of reconciliation and redemption, the mess of friendship and community, the guts of walking on the water, and the big-sky dreaming of the Kingdom of God.

if you look hard enough you can always see reasons, but you’ll go crazy if you think it’s all punishment for your sins.

God works at the edges of life, in the alleys, far away from the clout and the image and the prestige so esteemed by the world. God’s people have always been marginalized. The Bible makes this clear and normative: We are called to the edges, like Abraham – to trust in a God of the edges who moves us and leads us in ways we can’t comprehend, and in ways the world dismisses as crazy.

he told me I wasn't crazy and gave me a Bible verse." I smile at her. "You'll always be my Crazy Girl. What Bible verse?" "Second Corinthians chapter four, verses sixteen to twenty. Do you know it?

On Religion - I compare the god of the Christian bible to a psychotic, jealous girlfriend. Who else but a crazy girlfriend would demand that a man mutilate his penis as a sign that he loves her? Who else but a crazy boyfriend would do it?!

The Bible isn’t just a book about religion; it’s a book about relationships, and it’s filled with practical suggestions for making our own relationships work. Here are some examples: Don’t bring up issues that have already been dealt with in the past. (Prov. 17:9) Don’t stretch the truth, but be honest in your conversation. (Eph. 4:25) If someone gets upset, don’t respond with anger. (Prov. 15:1; 25:15; 29:11) Listen carefully, and don’t interrupt until you’ve really heard the other person. (Prov. 18:13) Look for ways to encourage the other person. (1 Thess. 5:11) Pick your battles; avoid arguing whenever possible. (Prov. 17:14) Put energy into seeing things from the other person’s point of view. (Phil. 2:4) Spend a lot more time listening than talking. (James 1:19; Prov. 10:19) Think before you respond to someone. (Prov. 15:28) Watch carefully what you say so you don’t get yourself in trouble. (Prov. 21:23)

We make villains out of what we don’t understand. We insist they could never be like us. But a closer examination reveals we are separated by degrees, not kind. We all have the same sickness. Evil queens and femme fatales, murderous brothers and crazy kings, betrayers and devils live among us—and they are us.

In telling these stories of our Nation's past, however, let's not be so zealous in correcting liberal historians that we create our own historical revisionism. If the Founding Fathers were alive today, some of them would not want to go to the typical Evangelical church. Some were influenced by the pagan Enlightenment, as well as the Protestant Reformation. one historical figure (not a Founding Father) who's been misrepresented in our quest to find Christian heroes is Johnny Appleseed. He's routinely pictured as a nice man who went around scattering apple seeds everywhere and toting a Bible under his arm. The fact is, Johnny Appleseed was a missionary for Swedenbogrism, a spiritist cult. This cult taught many false doctrines and claimed that the writings of the Apostle Paul had no place in the Bible. When a child hears that Johnny Appleseed is a 'godly hero' and then discovers that he was in fact a cult member, what will he logically conclude about everything he's been taught?

Fear God. Based on everything we’ve seen of God in the Old Testament, this is pretty good advice. God is jealous. God is angry. God is crazy. If he thinks you’re messing around with other gods or doing anything he doesn’t like, he’ll kill you as soon as look at you—and not just you but your whole family and all of your livestock, too.

Satan nodded. “People are turning their backs on religion.” “It’s not so much that,” Mulciber said, “but it seems more acceptable than ever now to be religious and to treat people badly. You have crazy fundamentalists in every religion. They hate gays, foreigners, women. You name it, they’ll find you a reason in the bible or whatever to hate it.

Narcissistic Supply (noun)-- He liked her but was too ashamed to admit it because she was off limits. So he ran her name down in the mud and made sure everyone would believe that he never cared. However, he kept one foot in her life because that is what obsession is like for a narcissist. They can't let you go, but they won't let others know that they are being immoral. If they can't have you then everyone will think your crazy and no one will ever believe your story. Obsession runs in their veins and they will never give you up. You have become their dirty little secret, their narcissistic supply. They like the rivalry and jealousy they created because it means they are desired by everyone. It doesn't matter if they divorced their ex and got a new woman in their life. That person will be told the same lie about you and they will continue with this obsession that you still care about them. When in reality you loathe their very existence. At the very heart of narcissistic supply is obsession and this deep seeded feeling that they are missing out.

John knew that if you push the so-called Sola Scriptura Calvinist approach and the “inerrancy” ideas to their absurd limit, all real study of the Bible stops. It becomes a magical text. It is no longer open to interpretation. Dogma replaces study, because scholarship can only be meaningful when you are allowed to ask real questions and let the chips fall where they may. It

Calpurnia was to blame for this. It kept me from driving her crazy on rainy days, I guess. She would set me a writing task by scrawling the alphabet firmly across the top of a tablet, then copying out a chapter of the Bible underneath. If I reproduced her penmanship satisfactorily, she rewarded me with an open-faced sandwich of bread and butter and sugar. In Calpurnia’s teaching, there was no sentimentality: I seldom pleased her and she seldom rewarded me. “Everybody

Because of A Prayer for Owen Meany, many of my readers assume I am “religious.” I go to church only occasionally—like a lot of people, I believe in God in times of crisis. But I have had no religious “experience”; I’ve never been a witness to a miracle. The reason A Prayer for Owen Meany has a first-person narrator is that you can’t have a religious experience or witness a miracle except through the eyes of a believer. And the believer I chose, Johnny Wheelwright, has been so tormented by what happens to his best friend that he is more than a little crazy—as I expect most witnesses to so-called miracles are. Both Johnny Wheelwright’s anger and his craziness are inseparable from what he saw. The other religious question I am asked about the novel—second only to “Are you a believer?”—is “Do the capital letters mark Owen Meany as a Christ figure, sort of like those red-letter editions of the Bible?” Sort of, yes. To have Owen speak in red letters might have been too expensive for my publishers, but I also thought the capitals would be more irritating than red letters. Owen’s voice is irritating, not only because of how it sounds but because of how right he is. People

With all this snow, with the sun not there, with the cold and dreariness, this place doesn't look like my America, doesn't even look real. It's like we are in a terrible story, like we're in the crazy parts of the Bible, there where God is busy punishing people for their sins and is making them miserable with all the weather. The sky, for example, has stayed white all this time I have been here, which tells you that something is not right. Even the stones know that a sky is supposed to be blue, like our sky back home, which is blue, so blue you can spray Clorox on it and wipe it with a paper towel and it wouldn't even come off.

Years ago, I happened upon a television program of a “prosperity gospel” preacher, with perfectly coiffed mauve hair, perched on a rhinestone-spackled golden throne, talking about how wonderful it is to be a Christian. Even if Christianity proved to be untrue, she said, she would still want to be a Christian, because it’s the best way to live. It occurred to me that that is an easy perspective to have, on television, from a golden throne. It’s a much more difficult perspective to have if one is being crucified by one’s neighbors in Sudan for refusing to repudiate the name of Christ. Then, if it turns out not to be true, it seems to be a crazy way to live. In reality, this woman’s gospel—and those like it—are more akin to a Canaanite fertility religion than to the gospel of Jesus Christ. And the kingdom she announces is more like that of Pharaoh than like that of Christ. David’s throne needs no rhinestone. But the prosperity gospel proclaimed in full gaudiness in the example above is on full display in more tasteful and culturally appropriate forms. The idea of the respectability of Christian witness in a Christian America that is defined by morality and success, not by the gospel of crucifixion and resurrection, is just another example of importing Jesus to maintain one’s best life now. Jesus could have remained beloved in Nazareth, by healing some people and levitating some chairs, and keeping quiet about how different his kingdom is. But Jesus persistently has to wreck everything, and the illusions of Christian America are no more immune than the illusions of Israelite Galilee. If we see the universe as the Bible sees it, we will not try to “reclaim” some lost golden age. We will see an invisible conflict of the kingdoms, a satanic horror show being invaded by the reign of Christ. This will drive us to see who our real enemies are, and they are not the cultural and sexual prisoners-of-war all around us. If we seek the kingdom, we will see the devil. And this makes us much less sophisticated, much less at home in modern America.

Whenever you lose control, someone else always finds it.” These were the words of my high school English teacher Mr. Sologar on our first day of class. They didn’t have anything to do with literature or grammar, but I guess he wanted to kick off the class with a life lesson. It was a good one. If we acted up at home, he explained, control of our lives would swiftly transfer to our parents in the form of lost privileges or being grounded. The same was true at school. If we abused our freedom in the classroom or in the hallways—and we did!—we’d find ourselves in the principal’s office or confined to detention. If we got really crazy and decided to break the law, the legal system would step in to curtail our freedom. “No, control is never truly lost,” he repeated in his thick Indian accent. “If you fail to control yourself, others will control you.

As a society we are only now getting close to where Dogen was eight hundred years ago. We are watching all our most basic assumptions about life, the universe, and everything come undone, just like Dogen saw his world fall apart when his parents died. Religions don’t seem to mean much anymore, except maybe to small groups of fanatics. You can hardly get a full-time job, and even if you do, there’s no stability. A college degree means very little. The Internet has leveled things so much that the opinions of the greatest scientists in the world about global climate change are presented as being equal to those of some dude who read part of the Bible and took it literally. The news industry has collapsed so that it’s hard to tell a fake headline from a real one. Money isn’t money anymore; it’s numbers stored in computers. Everything is changing so rapidly that none of us can hope to keep up. All this uncertainty has a lot of us scrambling for something certain to hang on to. But if you think I’m gonna tell you that Dogen provides us with that certainty, think again. He actually gives us something far more useful. Dogen gives us a way to be okay with uncertainty. This isn’t just something Buddhists need; it’s something we all need. We humans can be certainty junkies. We’ll believe in the most ridiculous nonsense to avoid the suffering that comes from not knowing something. It’s like part of our brain is dedicated to compulsive dot-connecting. I think we’re wired to want to be certain. You have to know if that’s a rope or a snake, if the guy with the chains all over his chest is a gangster or a fan of bad seventies movies. Being certain means being safe. The downfall is that we humans think about a lot of stuff that’s not actually real. We crave certainty in areas where there can never be any. That’s when we start in with believing the crazy stuff. Dogen is interesting because he tries to cut right to the heart of this. He gets into what is real and what is not. Probably the main reason he’s so difficult to read is that Dogen is trying to say things that can’t actually be said. So he has to bend language to the point where it almost breaks. He’s often using language itself to show the limitations of language. Even the very first readers of his writings must have found them difficult. Dogen understood both that words always ultimately fail to describe reality and that we human beings must rely on words anyway. So he tried to use words to write about that which is beyond words. This isn’t really a discrepancy. You use words, but you remain aware of their limitations. My teacher used to say, “People like explanations.” We do. They’re comforting. When the explanation is reasonably correct, it’s useful.

I had a friend who would take me to church in South Los Angeles. She knew when the best touring gospel bands were coming through, and though I had absolutely zero interest in the concept of god and an open disdain for religion, I went for the music. The bands were on fire, the singing made me shiver with emotion, and the crowd was crazy into it. More intense than any punk rock concert; elderly women jerking their bodies around like wild, people yelling stuff out, the band thumping away like mad, and everyone in the room just absolutely focused, gone into it, believing. I loved it. On one of those Jesus Sundays I got to talking to one of the parishioners, and when I told him I didn’t believe in the Bible, that I was just there for the music, he was totally cool and welcomed me back the following week, even though I was shabbily dressed and the only white person in the place. That’s the first time I considered that church could possibly be a good thing.

It’s immaturity that creates the crazy-making effect of causing you to doubt reality, second guess what is true, and get yourself so off-kilter you stop addressing what obviously needs to be talked about. Another person’s immaturity will always be felt by a mature person. You may not be able to put your finger on it, but you will ask, “What’s going on here?” The person may be extremely intelligent and successful and even quote Bible verses left and right but lack emotional maturity. That doesn’t mean we should leverage this in judgmental or demeaning ways against them. Remember, but for the grace of God, we could be doing some of the same things they are. We don’t want to grow hard, angry, or develop an attitude of superiority when setting boundaries. We must stay humble and surrendered to Jesus in this process. So, let them have their own journey and revelation. Be wise with setting and keeping your boundaries and remember that you don’t have to stay in the same place the other person is in. And use these insights to help you become more aware of what’s at play, so you don’t keep feeling like the crazy one and discounting your discernment.

My great-grandmother read people’s fortunes and aligned her gardens with the stars. This was always said before a long, dramatic pause. Nana never wanted to talk about her. If I said anything about astrology or being a Cancer, my grandmother would go move quick to hush me. I heard different stories about my great-grandmother, cautionary tales about what could happen if you leaned in hard on that intuition. I don’t know the full story, but I also know that she was a card reader in Waco, Texas, at a time when that was not done. She was considered crazy by a lot of people in town. That buckle on the Bible Belt can come down hard and leave a mark. But I’d stare in the mirror at my brown eyes and high cheekbones, convinced I was Native American. More than that, we Simpson girls, my mother included, all seemed a little witchy. A nicer word would be intuitive. We had a good sense of people from the get-go and we often knew what was going to happen before it happened. Sometimes we chalked it up to our faith that God would provide, sometimes to just paying attention. But often it felt like we knew what was destined to be. Everything that happened in my life just felt preordained. Still does.

Because of A Prayer for Owen Meany, many of my readers assume I am “religious.” I go to church only occasionally—like a lot of people, I believe in God in times of crisis. But I have had no religious “experience”; I’ve never been a witness to a miracle. The reason A Prayer for Owen Meany has a first-person narrator is that you can’t have a religious experience or witness a miracle except through the eyes of a believer. And the believer I chose, Johnny Wheelwright, has been so tormented by what happens to his best friend that he is more than a little crazy—as I expect most witnesses to so-called miracles are. Both Johnny Wheelwright’s anger and his craziness are inseparable from what he saw. The other religious question I am asked about the novel—second only to “Are you a believer?”—is “Do the capital letters mark Owen Meany as a Christ figure, sort of like those red-letter editions of the Bible?” Sort of, yes. To have Owen speak in red letters might have been too expensive for my publishers, but I also thought the capitals would be more irritating than red letters. Owen’s voice is irritating, not only because of how it sounds but because of how right he is. People who are always right, and are given to reminding us of it, are irritating; prophets are irritating, and Owen Meany is decidedly a prophet.

Shortly after I returned home from the Ukraine, I became severely ill with what doctors believed was a parasite. I couldn’t hold my food down and lost a lot of weight. Different doctors kept prescribing me antibiotics, but none of them seemed to help. For a couple of months, I was poked and tested in a variety of ways, only to have more questions surface than answers. Then I was sent to an ear, nose, and throat doctor for an evaluation. I was sitting in a waiting room with a bunch of toddlers, when my name was called. By the time I got into the examination room I knew I’d had enough. “Hey, I’m outta here,” I told the doctor. “I’ll take my chance with the resurrection.” Well, a couple of weeks later, my insurance agent called me. He was one of my lifelong friends and sounded concerned. “Hey, Jase,” he said. “Your insurance company wants you to see a psychiatrist.” Apparently, the ear, nose, and throat doctor recommended I undergo a full psychiatric evaluation based on my refusal to be examined, along with my speech on the resurrection! Apparently, he thought I was crazy. I convinced my buddy that I didn’t need a psychiatrist and eventually got over my illness. I would later read a passage of scripture in the Bible that caused me to smile in reflection on the entire ordeal. Second Corinthians 5:13 says: “If we are out of our mind, as some say, it is for God; if we are in our right mind, it is for you.

When our son was born, my wife and I made adjustments to our lives like all parents must. The ideal in our particular family was to keep the little man out of daycare, which meant one of us would care for him in the home. For the first two years, we decided I would be the one to work from home and care for him, until we could figure a plan to have her stay home with him. With all of the crazy nighttime feedings, his need to be cuddled, and other activities, getting a good rest at night was out of the question. I had become accustomed to rising early and having personal devotions. Obviously, that became quite the challenge. My mind was becoming overwhelmed with the difficulty of functioning on very little rest. So, before this went too far, I prayed. I said something like, “Lord! You gave us this boy to nurture and care for. You want us to be the best parents possible. You are the One who taught us balance and temperance. I am feeling out of balance, Lord. I am having difficulty getting up in the mornings. And when I do get up, I can hardly concentrate on the Bible or praying. I know this is not what you intended for us. I am dedicating this certain time in the morning to you. Will you please keep our son asleep during that time so you and I can have the time you want?” Let me tell you, the Lord answered immediately! From the very next morning, even with all of the frenzy of baby activity and my overwhelming weariness, the Most High soothed and kept our son asleep until my worship time was over. And the interesting thing is, he only stayed asleep for that particular time. When the time was done, he always woke up.

My grandfather, also named Fraser Robinson, was decidedly less fun to be around, a cigar-puffing patriarch who’d sit in his recliner with a newspaper open on his lap and the evening news blaring on the television nearby. His demeanor was nothing like my father’s. For Dandy, everything was an irritant. He was galled by the day’s headlines, by the state of the world as shown on TV, by the young black men—“boo-boos,” he called them—whom he perceived to be hanging uselessly around the neighborhood, giving black people everywhere a bad name. He shouted at the television. He shouted at my grandmother, a sweet, soft-spoken woman and devout Christian named LaVaughn. (My parents had named me Michelle LaVaughn Robinson, in honor of her.) By day, my grandmother expertly managed a thriving Bible bookstore on the Far South Side, but in her off-hours with Dandy she was reduced to a meekness I found perplexing, even as a young girl. She cooked his meals and absorbed his barrage of complaints and said nothing in her own defense. Even at a young age, there was something about my grandmother’s silence and passivity in her relationship with Dandy that got under my skin. According to my mother, I was the only person in the family to talk back to Dandy when he yelled. I did it regularly, from the time I was very young and over many years, in part because it drove me crazy that my grandmother wouldn’t speak up for herself, in part because everyone else fell silent around him, and lastly because I loved Dandy as much as he confounded me. His stubbornness was something I recognized, something I’d inherited myself, though I hoped in a less abrasive form.

Door: So spiritual direction is a slow process that looks idle and inefficient. Peterson: It's subversive. I'm a subversive, really. I gather the people in worship, I pray for them, I engage them often in matters of spiritual correction, and I take them on two really strong retreats a year. I am a true subversive. We live in a culture that we think is Christian. When a congregation gathers in a church, they assume they are among friends in a basically friendly world (with the exception of pornographers, etc.). If I, as their pastor, get up and tell them the world is not friendly and they are really idol worshippers, they think I'm crazy. This culture has twisted all of our metaphors and images and structures of understanding. But I can't say that directly. The only way that you can approach people is indirectly, obliquely. A head-on attack doesn't work. Jesus was the master of indirection. The parables are subversive. His hyperboles are indirect. There is a kind of outrageous quality to them that defies common sense, but later on the understanding comes. The largest poetic piece in the Bible, Revelation, is a subversive piece. Instead of (being) a three-point lecturer, the pastor is instead a storyteller and a pray-er. Prayer and story become the primary means by which you get past people's self-defense mechanisms. In my book, I say it this way: "I must remember that I am a subversive. My long-term effectiveness depends on my not being recognized for who I am as a pastor. If the church member actually realized that the American way of life is doomed to destruction and that another kingdom is right now being formed in secret to take its place, he wouldn't be pleased at all. If he knew what I was really doing and the difference it was making, he would fire me." True subversion requires patience. You slowly get cells of people who are believing in what you are doing, participating in it.

Little Nicky heads to the Badlands to see the show for himself. The Western Roads are outside his remit as a U.S. Treasury agent, but he knows the men he wants are its denizens. Standing on the corner of the Great Western and Edinburgh Roads, a sideshow, a carnival of the doped, the beaten, and the crazed. He walks round to the Avenue Haig strip and encounters the playground of Shanghai’s crackpots, cranks, gondoos, and lunatics. He’s accosted constantly: casino touts, hustling pimps, dope dealers; monkeys on chains, dancing dogs, kids turning tumbles, Chinese ‘look see’ boys offering to watch your car. Their numbers rise as the Japs turn the screws on Shanghai ever tighter. Half-crazy American missionaries try to sell him Bibles printed on rice paper—saving souls in the Badlands is one tough beat. The Chinese hawkers do no better with their porno cards of naked dyed blondes, Disney characters in lewd poses, and bare-arsed Chinese girls, all underage. Barkers for the strip shows and porno flicks up the alleyways guarantee genuine French celluloid of the filthiest kind. Beggars abound, near the dealers and bootleggers in the shadows, selling fake heroin pills and bootleg samogon Russian vodka, distilled in alleyways, that just might leave you blind. Off the Avenue Haig, Nicky, making sure of his gun in its shoulder holster, ventures up the side streets and narrow laneways that buzz with the purveyors of cure-all tonics, hawkers of appetite suppressants, male pick-me-ups promising endless virility. Everything is for sale—back-street abortions and unwanted baby girls alongside corn and callus removers, street barbers, and earwax pickers. The stalls of the letter writers for the illiterate are next to the sellers of pills to cure opium addiction. He sees desperate refugees offered spurious Nansen passports, dubious visas for neutral Macao, well-forged letters of transit for Brazil. He could have his fortune told twenty times over (gypsy tarot cards or Chinese bone chuckers? Your choice). He could eat his fill—grilled meat and rice stalls—or he could start a whole new life: end-of-the-worlders and Korean propagandists offer cheap land in Mongolia and Manchukuo.

I am in a two-stoplight town in the Alabama hill country, in the heart of the Bible Belt and Crimson Tide football mania, listening to an old-fashioned, heated argument between Cubans like the ones I've heard in Little Havana in Miami, but the moment very quickly loses its sense of strangeness and cultural dissonance. This is what America is like now-- North America, I mean, the United States. The craziness of cubanos and mexicanos and guatemaltecos can find you just about anywhere

Who has anguish? Who has sorrow?    Who is always fighting? Who is always complaining?    Who has unnecessary bruises? Who has bloodshot eyes? 29 ¿Quién tiene angustia? ¿Quién siente tristeza?    ¿Quién es el que siempre pelea? ¿Quién está siempre quejándose?    ¿Quién tiene moretones sin motivo? ¿Quién tiene los ojos rojos? 30 It is the one who spends long hours in the taverns,    trying out new drinks. 30 Es el que pasa muchas horas en las tabernas,    probando nuevos tragos. 31 Don’t gaze at the wine, seeing how red it is,    how it sparkles in the cup, how smoothly it goes down. 31 No te fijes en lo rojo que es el vino,    ni en cómo burbujea en la copa, ni en lo suave que se desliza. 32 For in the end it bites like a poisonous snake;    it stings like a viper. 32 Pues al final muerde como serpiente venenosa;    pica como una víbora. 33 You will see hallucinations,    and you will say crazy things. 33 Tendrás alucinaciones    y dirás disparates. 34 You will stagger like a sailor tossed at sea,    clinging to a swaying mast. 34 Te tambalearás como un marinero en alta mar,    aferrado a un mástil que se mueve. 35 And you will say, “They hit me, but I didn’t feel it.    I didn’t even know it when they beat me up.   When will I wake up    so I can look for another drink?” 35 Y entonces dirás: «Me golpearon pero no lo sentí.    Ni siquiera me di cuenta cuando me dieron la paliza.   ¿Cuándo despertaré    para ir en busca de otro trago?».

The good news is when we do finally throw our hands up, fall on our knees and cry out for help, He is always there. You just have to get to the point where you can trust the concept. That means having faith. This is particularly hard for us because trust doesn’t come easy if at all. What if we trust and nothing changes? That could happen. The tough part about recognizing a higher power is He uses His own timeline, not yours. Many people in the Bible believed for things their whole lives and died without ever seeing them come to pass. Yet they never stopped having faith; eventually, all they believed for did occur - in God’s perfect timing.

The significance of establishing those two facts (1) that Jesus claimed to be God and (2) that He rose from the dead is this; if Jesus said that he was God but he wasn’t, then he was either a lying heretic or else he was crazy. If that were the case, there’s no way God The Father would resurrect Jesus from the dead knowing that doing so would vindicate his blasphemous claims and lead many people astray. God would never raise a heretic and a blasphemer, but if God did raise Jesus from the dead, then God implicitly put his stamp of approval on everything Jesus said and did. If Jesus rose from the dead, then that means God The Father agreed with Jesus’ claims for which his enemies killed him as a blasphemer. If God The Father raised Jesus from the dead then that means He agrees with Jesus’ claims to be divine. If that’s the case, then whatever Jesus teaches carries a lot of weight.

God is willing to suffer to get what He wants; evil is not.

43. Change Your Vocabulary, Change Your Attitude Our words have power. They have the power to change our lives for the better or for the worse. Even the Bible says: The tongue has the power of life and death. But what the heck does that mean?! You see, I think ‘trying’ isn’t the only word you should jettison from your dictionary. Let’s take the word ‘problem’ - that one instantly seems to me like a hassle and a pain. I replace it with ‘challenge’. All of a sudden, something that seemed oppressive and negative becomes an obstacle course to be negotiated. Changing the words you use will help you change your attitude to the situation you’re in and the life you live. Do you hear that? The words we use become the life we live. That’s why I have never ever had a ‘cold’ in my life. I have, though, occasionally had a warm! I refuse to call the weekend the weak-end - that symbolizes surrender. I call it a strong-end. (And I can guarantee you’ll do much more with those 48 hours if you live it like that!) And what about the words ‘alarm clock’? ‘Alarm’ to me says emergency and that my life is in danger. That’s a terrible way to start a day. I call it instead my ‘opportunity’ clock. Waking me up to give me the opportunity to get out there and grab life with both hands. And then, of course, there is the worst of all…the word ‘can’t’. When I hear an expedition member say it ‘can’t’ be done, I can never resist amending it to: ‘We haven’t yet found a way to do it.’ And therein lies the adventure! When you start to use words and phrases like these, for sure loads of people will think you’re crazy, but the good news is that you’ll make them smile, and you will be talking into existence the sort of outcomes that most people can only ever dream of… I’d take being called crazy to get that. Wouldn’t you?

Oh, the Bible is full of freaks,' Therese said. She listed them on her fingers. 'At some point there's a talking donkey. And Joseph's got that crazy coat. And who's weirder than Jesus? The guy could walk on water.

Amanis a spiritual being made to.be an alloy of all the metals that have no value of diamonds or rubies. Man are taught to be malleable not brittle. My father told me never entertain a whore while drinking wine, always entertain your wife after a round of Pinot noir. If you have to buy a slice of flesh don't eat the stake, look for a boney meat. Never smoke thus ungentle and uncouth you are pleasing capitalism of unethics and destroying your lungs. After drinking whiskey, and always drink Scottish, if you are poor enough try Canadian. If you want to be a sage Japanese taste crazy but it makes you a man. Boys are not made but they are roasted in fires of bellies and they stay in barrels for maturity. Spend hours reading Greek philosophy, African methodologies and read the holy Bible. In doing business always despise free lunch and never drink brandy, sometimes act like a Vatican and be an integrity vulture. Stoicism is the ultimate master. Avoid to step on great man shoe and always be water.

Animal a spiritual being made to.be an alloy of all the metals that have no value of diamonds or rubies. Man are taught to be malleable not brittle. My father told me never entertain a whore while drinking wine, always entertain your wife after a round of Pinot noir. If you have to buy a slice of flesh don't eat the stake, look for a boney meat. Never smoke thus ungentle and uncouth you are pleasing capitalism of unethics and destroying your lungs. After drinking whiskey, and always drink Scottish, if you are poor enough try Canadian. If you want to be a sage Japanese taste crazy but it makes you a man. Boys are not made but they are roasted in fires of bellies and they stay in barrels for maturity. Spend hours reading Greek philosophy, African methodologies and read the holy Bible. In doing business always despise free lunch and never drink brandy, sometimes act like a Vatican and be an integrity vulture. Stoicism is the ultimate master. Avoid to step on great man shoe and always be water.

The library of books in the Bible was written by human authors who each had God’s Spirit inspiring and guiding them.* The library of books in the Bible was and still is a primary way God communicates with us, giving us guidance. God wants us to know him, to know our origins and future, and to have guidance for life. So God intentionally and purposely oversaw the process of what was written, using the different personalities and life experiences and situations of each human author to communicate what he wished to say.

Wish there were a “good news” channel? I usually have news stations humming in the background to keep up with worldwide events, but that constant white noise is sometimes like a cloud descending on the home. I defined for Piper the term “pet peeve” a few years ago. “Got it, Mom,” she responded. “My ‘pet peeve’ then is Fox News.” Yikes. I turned the volume down after that one slapped me upside the head. From crazy politicians pushing treaties with terrorist nations to thugs trashing neighborhood Walgreens in the name of “free speech,” bad news is exhausting. Some days it would be nice just to hear about Joe Six Pack and his hardworking family and his kid who got an “A” in Algebra today. Jesus tells of weeds thrown by the enemy into a field of good seed. Those weeds remind me of all the bad news we hear about in the media. As the time draws nearer to the return of Jesus, the Bible says the hearts of man will become increasingly hardened and they will refuse to repent of their crimes (Rev. 9:21). Sorcery, murder, immorality, and theft will rise, while at the same time God’s followers are called to stand firm in righteousness. Both the good seed and the bad seed will grow to fullness, until the final harvest of the “wheat.” At the great harvest, according to the Word, the Lord will take up the weeds to burn them, while gathering the wheat unto Him. SWEET FREEDOM IN Action Today, stand strong in the midst of weeds; mute the droning on and on of constant bad news; and anticipate that this era’s closing comments get very good for believers!

I always found it interesting how the church often has a tendency to try to make everything look better than it really is.  No divorces are happening here.  No alcoholism, domestic violence, or abortions.  Just smiling faces and warm handshakes as you walk in the door.  It like we're saying, if we can just create a sterile enough environment, then doggone it, our environment will be clean.  But of course, God sees us all for who we really are, and He is privy to all of your angry words, gossiping tongues, and secret stashes.  He knows who you really are, yet He loves you anyway.

For only crazy people would think they could complete by their own efforts what was begun by God. If you weren’t smart enough or strong enough to begin it, how do you suppose you could perfect it?

Later that day, after we talked more and things were starting to settle down, Dad said, “I’m going to put you on house arrest. You cannot leave this house for three months. You’re going to study the Bible with me, and you’re going to duck hunt every single day.” “All right, Dad. I think I can do that.” During the months I spent at Mom and Dad’s, I hunted, fished, and studied the Bible every day with Dad. I began to realize that all this time, I had been living off of my dad’s faith. I’d never had my own relationship with God. For the first time, I started to find my own faith. As I looked at God’s Word with fresh eyes, I realized that repenting and turning to God meant I was saved and forgiven. Jesus’ blood covered my sins and redeemed me from the path of destruction I was on. I couldn’t ever have been good enough on my own. Back when I was in the middle of that crazy time of drugging and drinking, I remember feeling guilty once in a while and knowing I needed God. But then the thoughts would come. I’m not good enough. Or I’m just not quite ready. I think that’s the number one excuse because you’ll never be perfect, and you’ll never be ready. Getting right with God and getting rid of the bad stuff in your life takes him. You have to take it one step at a time. It’s not easy, I’m not perfect, and I still struggle.

It turns out that the Bible is right—“It is better to give than to receive” (Acts 20:35). People generally do find greater joy in giving freely to others than they do in rampant self-indulgence.

The concept of downsizing so that others might upgrade is biblical, beautiful … and nearly unheard of. We either close the gap or don’t take the words of the Bible literally.

Chance was developing a healthy addiction to the Bible, not to mention coffee, marijuana and an ice bag on his ass. All gave him relief in their way.

Not all who listen, believe. If you call the Gospel a crazy fairy tale, a far-too-good-to-be-true myth, an insane extension of wishful thinking, or even a blasphemous lie, I will respect you and argue with you. But if you call it a platitude, I can only pity you, for that means you have never listened to it.

God is not opposed to pride because it is something only He can possess; God is opposed to pride because pride is unlike Him.

Having faith often means doing what others see as crazy. Something is wrong when our lives make sense to unbelievers. and also my friend i learned this To believers, the bible is a holy book, to unbelievers like u it is a story book.

Dad and Mom were tough on intellectual ideas they disagreed with, but not on people. Ideas interested Dad, not theology per se. If he was lecturing on art, music, cultural trends, he stuck to the subject. He hated circular arguments that depended on the Bible when used against secular people who didn’t acknowledge biblical authority. He believed that you should argue on a level playing field, where both people stay on common ground. “What’s the point of quoting the Bible to people who don’t believe it’s true?” Dad would say. In

In his “year of doubt”—as Mom always called it—Dad had spent the better parts of several months pacing in our old Champéry chalet’s hayloft. He was considering giving up his faith. Things no longer made sense to him. Somehow he convinced himself to still believe. And in 1949 (at about the same time Dad was pacing), Billy Graham was also suffering from doubts and had a similar re-conversion. Billy walked into the woods, laid his Bible on a tree stump, and prayed for more faith. Suddenly he just knew it was all true! To an outside observer, these self-fulfilling miracles of renewed faith might be open to question; they might even seem to have something to do with the fact that Dad and Billy, and many others, had a vested interested in their belief, belief through which they found meaning, the respect of others, and also earned a living. But since Billy mentioned to Dad—at least half a dozen times over thirty or so years of knowing each other—that he was terrified of dying, maybe Billy’s moment of sublime revelation hadn’t quite done the trick. As for Dad, his temper and violent rage at my mother lessened with time but only disappeared altogether when he was dying of cancer. God might have given Dad faith, but he never did manage to get him to be polite to his wife. Flimsily

The Francis Schaeffer of the Uffizi, who hiked with me and told me that he had doubts about many things, even God, gradually disappeared, and the absolutist defender-of-the-Bible and father-of-the-religious-right took his place. The young painter I had been was gone, too. And even the young idealistic pro-life activist was fading away, to be replaced by a pain-in-the-ass upstart earning great book royalties and speaking fees from hanging onto his father’s coattails and shrilly denouncing “secular America” and the evils of liberals. I

Dr. Ockenga had been a student of Machen’s at Princeton University and followed him out. But then Ockenga, like Dad, became a critic of the fundamentalist’s endless civil wars and started looking for a new way to present a friendlier evangelical faith (and face). He helped invent a movement called the New Evangelicals. Their mascot was Billy Graham. Other figures like Carl Henry, founder of Christianity Today magazine (and a man who became bitterly jealous of my father in later years), criticized fundamentalism’s failure to address the world’s intellectual and social needs. A movement was born—modern evangelicalism, a fundamentalism-lite where everyone could more or less do their own theological thing, as long as they “named the name of Christ” and paid lip service to the “inerrancy” of the Bible. On

was surprised by how quickly I was forgotten, how calm the waters were, as soon as I paddled out of the center of the evangelical right-wing whitewater. From one day to the next, I went from daily calls to be on some TV show, or be on the radio, or to be a participant in this or that symposium, march, seminar, or publishing venture, to blessed silence. It was a relief. It also confirmed what I already knew: that evangelicalism is not so much a religion as a series of fast-moving personality cults. As soon as a leader steps aside, or is shoved aside, or stumbles, the crowd looks for the next man or woman to briefly follow. There is always a bigger show down the street, another even better Bible-study leader or congregation to try, another hot author/guru to read, another trend, from speaking in tongues to giving homeschooling a try. And most evangelicals spend a good portion of their time wandering from church to church, from leader to leader, even from one radio and TV personality to another, in the same way that when I was a teen I’d switch my loyalty from one rock band to another. It’s all about who is “hot.” In

Mom could not ignore the sorts of people who were most certainly not fundamentalist: the artists, composers, and choreographers she so admired, or the sorts of secular people she might bump into at concerts and in museums. So I think my mother spent a lifetime trying to change the image of Bible-believing Christians.

I’ve come to realize that the entire Bible is crazy. It’s not as if there are a few crazy stories tucked away in unusual corners of the text; they’re everywhere. This is our God. His character is as consistent as His behavior is erratic. His promise is as dependable as His plan is unpredictable. Sometimes, it is ten plagues; sometimes, it is Ten Commandments, or the death of the firstborn, or a virgin birth. Ultimately, it is an execution that leads to a resurrection. About the only sure thing in any of these stories is that there will always, always, always be a surprise.

s a child, I was so shy I once hid in a closet at my own birthday party! But again and again, over the years, God has confronted me with opportunities to step outside of myself to touch others. And you know what? Saying yes to God is always a hopeful endeavor. If someone asked me 40 years ago whether I'd ever write a book or speak in front of a large audience, I'd have told her she was crazy. But that's what my ministry became! And as I've matured in the Lord, my hope has grown too. These days I'm far from a hopeless romantic. I'm not a hopeless anything. I'm a wide-eyed child of God eagerly waiting to see what He has in mind for me next. hese troubling days are the perfect time to enjoy the company of old and dear friends. You can share your sorrows, rejoice at God's love, and reminisce about good times. Through all life's seasons friends add so much depth and meaning. Don't think you have to fill every minute with activities. Spend time talking, listening, and enjoying companionship. Gather around a table of great food and soak up the warmth of years of friendship. Share a verse of Scripture and a time of prayer. The Bible says, "Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus" (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18). ver the years I've put together a "This Is Your Life" scrapbook for every one of my children. The books are filled with birth announcements, birthday party pictures, graduation memories-everything imaginable. Report cards, favorite Bible verses, photos of friends, even letters they wrote from camp. My kids have so enjoyed their special books-their own personal history. I love the scripture in Proverbs that says: "The

It’s easy to find people who think work is good and leisure is bad (i.e., you rest to work). You can also find people who think leisure is good and work is bad (i.e., you work to rest). But according to the Bible, both work and rest can be good if they are done to the glory of God.4 The Bible commends hard work (Prov. 6:6–11; Matt. 25:14–30; 1 Thess. 2:9; 4:11–12; 2 Thess. 3:10) and it also extols the virtue of rest (Ex. 20:8–11; Deut. 5:12–15; Ps. 127:2). Both have their place. The hard part is putting them in the right places. Many of us are less busy than we think, but life feels constantly overwhelming because our days and weeks and years have no rhythm.

Some people who helped lead that movement—including me—were very much like Hunka Munka and Tom Thumb. We lived lives informed by beliefs that were not based on fact and that led to deep-seated resentments that couldn’t be cured because what we resented never actually happened. We took it as a personal insult that the real world didn’t conform to the imagined religious “facts” that we’d been indoctrinated to believe in, and so we did our share of smashing.

Though controversial, there are examples even in the ancient manuscripts, the Bible, perhaps overlooked by the casual reader, which show that things did not always come to pass as they were predicted by some of the most well-known prophetic voices. To understand the dynamics of these prophetic predictions properly, you must understand that God’s actions are not always His original intentions.

The more doubts I had, the farther to the Right I moved ideologically, as if shouting loudly enough and demonizing any who disagreed with me could solve my real problem: the growing realization that the Bible is horribly flawed.

But not every promise or blessing is something we can directly apply to our lives today. We might take Bible verses and promises that are not meant for us and then be disappointed in God when they don’t happen.

The free gift of salvation from the forever “fallout” of sin and evil, the forgiveness of sins and evils we have personally committed, and the promise of being with God for all eternity now are available to all those who believe what Jesus

God wanted them to be holy, distinct from the people groups who lived around them. The word “holy” means set apart, separated, and kept away from the evil and false worship of the neighboring nations.

How ironic that God is criticized for ending the evil by punishing those who engage and advocate for it.

has done and put their faith in him. This Jesus movement became a multiethnic international movement.

once heard a short saying about Jesus, comparing him to the other religious leaders. It stuck in my head and goes something like this: “Founders of other religions claim they are a prophet to help you find God. Jesus came to say, ‘I am God come to find you.’ ” The Hindu Vedas say, “Truth is one, but the sages speak of it in many different ways.” Buddha said, “My teachings point the way to attainment of the truth.” Muhammad said, “The truth has been revealed to me.” Jesus said,“I am the truth.

Slavery is evil. God did not create it or endorse it. God specified the death penalty for slave traders in the Old Testament, and in the New Testament he clearly said it is sin. The Bible verses on slavery guide us in how to bring better treatment to people caught in a system that was established by humans. • Most of ancient slavery in the time of the Old Testament and New Testament was different from the slavery we are familiar with in modern times. Back then people were bought as servants, the money going to pay a person’s debt. Poverty forced others into servanthood just to stay alive. This slavery, or servanthood, was not race based.

In general, Jesus did not focus on specific civil laws or governments, but addressed the desires and motives of the human heart.

What we do find in the Bible is the progression of instruction. The Old Testament gave guidance to protect slaves and give them more dignity. This made Israel distinct from other nations. The New Testament moves one step farther, declaring that regardless of whether one is the slave or the one the slave serves, they are equals, brothers and sisters in Jesus.

Slavery is evil. God did not create it or endorse it. God specified the death penalty for slave traders in the Old Testament, and in the New Testament he clearly said it is sin. The Bible verses on slavery guide us in how to bring better treatment to people caught in a system that was established by humans. • Most of ancient slavery in the time of the Old Testament and New Testament was different from the slavery we are familiar with in modern times. Back then people were bought as servants, the money going to pay a person’s debt. Poverty forced others into servanthood just to stay alive. This slavery, or servanthood,

We live in a fallen world, and in that fallout is inequality between the sexes resulting in human-designed institutions like polygamy and men having concubines. Yet God, in his love and grace, worked within these fallen systems to care for women in those systems.

There’s a passage in the Bible that says people who haven’t met Jesus are going to think the people who have met Jesus are crazy.

We believe the Bible was written for us, that it’s for everyone of all times and places because it’s God’s Word. But it wasn’t written to us. It wasn’t written in our language, it wasn’t written with our culture in mind or our culture in view. —DR. JOHN WALTON, PROFESSOR, AUTHOR1

In short, the coming of Christ changed how we worship, but not how we live. The moral law outlines God’s own character—his integrity, love, and faithfulness. And so everything the Old Testament says about loving our neighbor, caring for the poor, generosity with our possessions, social relationships, and commitment to our family is still in force. The New Testament continues to forbid killing or committing adultery, and all the sex ethic of the Old Testament is re-stated throughout the New Testament (Matt. 5:27–30; 1 Cor. 6:9–20; 1 Tim. 1:8–11). If the New Testament has reaffirmed a commandment, then it is still in force for us today.1

Christianity teaches that the world is broken, and this brokenness is out fault. And the only way it can be fixed is through God's work. It's a work that only God can do and there are no other options. The biblical teaching is consistent on this point. This is not about the Bible being intolerant or sounding crazy. It's simply an ancient story stemming back to the creation, a story of one God who sent one Savior, Jesus, to be the way to relate to him and be in relationship with him.

People eulogize Smith Wigglesworth. They call him a prophet of faith. But what they don’t know is he sat almost all day, every day, reading the Bible, praying, and ministering to people. If you had asked him to do something else, he would have thought you were crazy. His knowledge of God was tremendous.

So we seem okay as far as that goes, at least to the sort of people who really care about trying to get their children into Harvard. But I think that some of our snobbier friends suspect that Genie and I may also lead Wolfman-at-full-moontype double lives. Maybe at night we turn into junk-food-loving porkers, sneak off to a trailer park with our brood of kids and grandkids, and lounge in a Winnebago surrounded by brokendown cars up on blocks, watch wrestling on TV, buy liquor with ill-gotten food stamps, scarf corn chips and bean dip, gain weight and put on dreadful sweat pants, sprout mullet haircuts, then trudge the isles of Wal-Mart until dawn breathing the plastic smell and loving it while, with each step, the cheeks of our suddenly gigantic bottoms rise, quiver, fall, and rise again like massive sacks of Jell-O strapped to the hindquarters of water buffalo.

you want to really creep yourself out, watch the unedited version (click here) of the news interview showing Paddock’s brother rambling for thirty minutes to reporters, while appearing to be terribly high on some stimulant. The gunman’s brother drivels on, explaining how Paddock was a ‘high roller’ at the casinos and how much money he makes, and how he ‘eats $10,000 dollar sushi lunches,’ complimentary. (If you watch this crazy video, your questions pertaining to this heinous event will completely lay to rest.)

Alycia’s mother was sitting in an armchair in the corner of the library without moving—been there a long time. She’d wandered down a distant road. A mental road, said Rafe. First she’d knitted with total focus, then she’d unraveled the knitting. She was covered in a blanket, and when I went up to her to ask if she needed something—a courtesy I rarely extended to a parent—the dip in the blanket, in her lap, was full of cut-up pieces of yarn. She acted like I wasn’t there, plus she was holding scissors. I figured I’d move on. “She’s dissociating,” I heard a mother tell a father. The therapist, probably. “Detachment from reality. It’s like that time the four of us went down to Cabo. Remember?” “Oh right. The time with the tranny sex worker? And the donkey in the sombrero?” “Bill, Jesus,” said the mother. “We don’t say tranny anymore.” The day felt formless, a crazy woman in her chair snipping, some fathers beside the fireplace talking in stoned voices about utopia. (Their pot was garbage next to the Oracle, said Terry with contempt. But he’d filled a freezer bag with it anyway.) Time ran together in the dark. Day for night, night for day, and the lost power made the house static and dim against the wind.

Here’s a culture war strategy conservative Christians should get behind: have more children and disciple them like crazy. Strongly consider having more children than you think you can handle. You don’t have to be a fertility maximalist to recognize that children are always lauded as a blessing in the Bible… [I]n the not-too-distant future, the only couples replacing themselves in America will be religious couples. Although there are many good reasons to have a baby, at the end of the day, as Jonathan Last maintains, “there’s only one good reason to go through the trouble a second time: Because you believe, in some sense, that God wants you to.” The basic reason countries stop having children is because they’ve come to see offspring as a liability rather than a source of hope. As Christians, we know better. Do you want to rebel against the status quo? Do you want people to ask you for a reason for the hope that is in you (1 Peter 3:15)? Tote your brood of children through Target. There is almost nothing more counter-cultural than having more children. And once we have those children, there is almost nothing more important than catechizing them in the faith, developing their moral framework, and preparing them to be deeply compassionate lovers of God and lovers of people and relentlessly biblical lovers of truth... I understand that many couples will be unable to have all the children they want to have. We have to allow for God to work in mysterious ways that we would not have planned. And yet, in so far as we are able, let us welcome new life... Presidents and Supreme Court justices will come and go. A child’s soul will last forever. The future belongs to the fecund. It’s time for happy warriors who seek to “renew the city” and “win the culture war” by investing in their local church, focusing on the family, and bringing the kingdom to bear on the world, one baby at a time.

So, when negative, fearful, or debilitating thoughts are being entertained in your mind, the key to overcoming them is to start speaking positive, faith-filled words, out loud, out of your own mouth. Yes, I know what you're thinking, "That's crazy!" You might be a little confused if you’ve never spent time learning the power of words. The Bible says, “David encouraged himself in the Lord” (1 Samuel 30: 6, KJV). Interview any successful person and they'll tell you how important positive self-talk is to your success.

If you’ve spent any time in church, you’ve heard expressed, in some form or another, the idea that God loves us. I believed this for years because, as the song puts it, “the Bible tells me so.” The only problem is that it was a concept I was taught, not something I implicitly knew to be true. For years I “got” God’s love in my head, checked the right answer on the “what God is like” test, but didn’t fully understand it with my heart.