Forged By Faith

1 Peter 2:11 NIV Foreigners and Exiles It’s amazing how out of place you can begin to feel in what is the only place you’ve ever been. That’s been something that’s floated around my head for months now. Something of a personal symptom of the growing dysfunction of a world so filled with such misplaced assumptions that the vast majority are still looking for God in the dirt upon which we stand, never seeming then to ever get closer to either what they’re looking for nor the realization that says we’re leaving the land in which they’re looking. A realization that I reckon is never reached for good reason. And that’s because what’s more amazing is how out of place you can begin to feel in what is the only life you’ve ever lived. We don’t want to feel that way. We don’t want to feel so out of place. We don’t want to feel like we don’t belong, like things have gone, like so too have we in the worst of all direction and degree as designed by what our hands have sought to find and our hearts ...

1 Peter 2:11 NIV Something’s off That’s a feeling I’ve had inside far too many thoughts I’ve had inside way too many times I’ve held as if time might mean more if I could just figure out what it was and why. And yet try as I did and might still try I’ve never really managed to figure out much of what the what was and even less of the why. Why? Because in order to see such a simple shifting we have to at first have a solid building as built upon something itself solid enough to offer unto us that way by which to measure the lean. Alas, none of us can really have that with this sand we’ve sought. Yet we’ve bought the sands we’ve sought because we thought that the comfort they offered, quite cloud-like when compared to the firmness of bedrock, was more conducive to the sort of lives productive that we assumed we should pursue. And we’ve come into such an agreement unto these pursuits so common because, well, that adds an even more pillowy softness to our commitment to what is a contentmen...