Inspire Holiness

  This blog is a follow-up on my previous post regarding pain and suffering . I realised after reading that it could be helpful to share a bit more on what I meant when I said several times that it was "hard". Encouraging, if nothing else, but to say, some other people may understand. It's challenging for me to explain to someone else exactly what I'm feeling. Well, it was particularly when we were going through our deepest challenge, and even after. I wanted to come up with a way to describe to people close to me how I felt. My initial words words were "I felt like my heart had been ripped out, but I was still alive." That's the description I could come up with to describe the emotional pain. Although I didn't tell that to anyone, at least not until I could express it further. I'm not the same person I was before this happened.  And if you asked me how I'm different, I'm not sure I could explain how, but I'll try. No, I don't hav...

Have you ever asked this question, or know somebody who has? I have. My pain, though, was for the suffering of my son, who experienced a most serious illness at 7 years old. The initial treatment lasted around 18 months; however, some of it may be lifelong, we pray not. How can a child from a Christian family become so unwell or even go home early, as some do? How, Why? Maybe you are asking about your own illness. These are very serious questions, and if you are asking them right now because of a current situation, I am deeply sorry you are going through this trauma.  When we went through these most traumatic times, just a few years ago, we knew other families going through virtually the same thing. One of those families was a Jesus-believing household, and the other was not. Both children from those families, aged 18 years old, did not recover from their illness. I'll be honest with you. As a Christian for many years, I could not understand it. At first, in the earliest months, I ...

As I look back over the years and wonder about my growth in faith, there is so much to think about. One starts to wonder when the true conversion was. However, lately in the last couple of years, I have been thinking that rather than questioning conversion, it may be more appropriate to consider it sanctification.  I know my heart is turned towards God, in faith in Jesus Christ, our Lord and Messiah. That I know. We Christians are guilty of saying that if someone is truly born again, they wouldn't behave in such a way, yet we are guilty of thinking such evil thoughts, and our tongues can be very sharp. Who is the guilty one? We are all so guilty. However, Jesus has saved us from the penalty of sin that corrupts. The Word tells us that friendship with the world is enmity with God, and not to be conformed to this world but to be transformed by the renewing of our mind. I think living such a life is the only way to stay true to the king, and to do that we need the help of the Holy Spi...

From the previous post in this beginning series, you will see that I question 'where it all started'. Well, I do not know the answer to that, but I do know some of the steps.  One of these steps came at the ripe old age of 17. I was living in St. Louis, Missouri and working for a business that closed down residential swimming pools for the winter. It was a seasonal job, and I was put alongside a man who must have been in his late twenties at the time, Randy Lough. I cannot remember much of the job, but I do remember Randy very well. He was the first Christian I remember meeting. Randy (Randy Clough) loved talking about Jesus. I have no doubt there was an aspect of evangelising, but what pointed me to Jesus was the sincerity, not of what he was saying, but of the evidence of his tears and how his conversion had impacted his life. I did not know Randy previously, so I did not know him when he was not following the Lord, but needless to say, the change had been dramatic; well, at ...

I'm not sure where it all began. Was it in the womb, through other people's prayers, was it before the foundation of the earth, was it when I wondered about my own self-existence as a child, or was it when the Gospel was preached to me? Or was it an accumulation of all the above? I do remember as a child when I realised my parents didn't know everything, and in that moment, the world became a much bigger place. That's when I started questioning my own self-existence.  By that age, I had already pondered on the existence of God, albeit mildly. I remember my mother telling me that she was given a necklace with a cross on it by the owners of a sweet shop that she would go by often. I mention that because she was 16 years old when she was pregnant with me, and being pregnant so young was obviously looked down upon, even more so in the 1970's. I am making a fair assumption that they were most likely a Christian couple and prayed for my mother and me - yet to be born. I c...