Why I’m Not A Good Christian. Part 1.
I’ve been thinking about stuff lately; especially with the little guy now hanging around my house. I’ve been trying to think about the lessons that I’ve learned spiritually (not just spiritually, but this is the focus of the post) and what lessons I want to pass to onto Logan. In the process of thinking about this, I actually came up with a bunch of reasons why I’m not a good Christian anymore. These are the first 5.
(1) I Still Think With My Head.
Not only do I constantly questions my own faith; but I also entertain logical arguments against Christianity. On top of that- if you’re argument is really persuasive, I’ll let you “win” the mini debate we’re having so I research the argument further later on. This also leads to me saying things like, “You know what? I don’t know” or “As a matter of fact, I don’t have all the answers.” This is something I’ve noticed that many other Christians have a problem with. But how can they honestly think that if they can’t explain the nature of the universe to a questioning soul within five minutes time that they have somehow failed that soul? It’s almost like some Christians feel their lack of knowledge gives God a black eye.
I will even take this a step further. If somebody can present me with empirical evidence that God does not or, that it is not possible for him to, exist; I will denounce Christianity. Ah… stalemate.
One Million Dollars!!!
Holy Crap!
These are the first images of Snake Eyes from the upcoming GI Joe movie. My sources tell me that these ARE NOT CGI, but the actor actually dressed in full costume. August 2009… don’t delay…
Who Am I?
Who am I? They often tell me
I stepped from my cell’s confinement
Calmly, cheerfully, firmly,
Like a squire from his country-house.
Who am I? They often tell me
I used to speak to my warders
Freely and friendly and clearly,
As though it were mine to command.
Who am I? They also tell me
I bore the days of misfortune
Equally, smilingly, proudly,
Like one accustomed to win.Am I then really all that which other men tell of?
Or am I only what I myself know of myself?
Restless and longing and sick, like a bird in a cage,
Struggling for breath, as though hands were
compressing my throat,
Yearning for colors, for flowers, for the voices of birds,
Thirsting for words of kindness, for neighborliness,
Tossing in expectation of great events,
Powerlessly trembling for friends at an infinite distance,
Weary and empty at praying, at thinking, at making,
Faint, and ready to say farewell to it all?Who am I? This or the other?
Am I one person today and tomorrow another?
Am I both at once? A hypocrite before others,
And before myself a contemptibly woebegone weakling?
Or is something within me still like a beaten army,
Fleeing in disorder from victory already achieved?
Who am I? They mock me, these lonely questions of mine.
Whoever I am, Thou knowest, O God, I am Thine!D. Bonhoeffer