Life's Inanities and Ironies

He stands alone on the scorched hills above Jerusalem , cloak torn by thorns and kings alike, eyes already red from forty years of unshed tears. The city beneath him is a smoking skeleton—golden temple melted into slag, walls breached like a shattered ribcage, the air thick with the stench of burning cedar and unburied dead. And Jeremiah weeps. Not the polite glistening of a funeral. Not the dignified single tear of a priest. He weeps like a man whose very bones have turned to salt water. “Oh that my head were waters, and mine eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep day and night for the slain daughter of my people!” He means it literally. He wants to bleed tears until the valleys flood, until the Kidron runs crimson with grief, until there is no more dryness left in him—because only then might the horror finally be enough. For four decades he walked those streets with a heart flayed open. Barefoot in the palace courts. Neck in the stocks while children pelted him with dung. Lowe...

We don’t read Lamentations much anymore. It’s too raw. Too uncomfortable. Too much like looking in a mirror we’ve spent decades trying to avoid. But chapter 5 is not poetry for the faint of heart. It is a naked, desperate prayer from a people who finally realized the party was over and the bill had come due. Jerusalem lies in ashes. The temple is gone. Children are starving in the streets. Princes hang from enemy gallows. Women are violated in the holy city itself. And the survivors—those who once boasted of their heritage, their covenant, their “blessings”—now lift trembling voices and say: “Remember, O LORD, what has come upon us;   look, and see our disgrace!” (Lam 5:1) They are not whining. They are confessing.   They are not blaming Babylon . They are blaming themselves. And if that doesn’t terrify Bible-believing Christians in America today , nothing will. Because everything they describe is here.   Everything. Our inheritance has been handed over t...

  “Except the LORD build the house, they labour in vain that build it.” – Psalm 127:1 Today we walked through brand-new doors to us, sat in brand-new chairs, and lifted our voices under a roof and in an auditorium that still smells like fresh paint and answered prayer. After years of someone else's sound system, folding tables and chairs, baptizing folks in borrowed horse troughs and ponds, God has given us a permanent place to call home. But let’s be crystal-clear from day one: this building is not the church. You are. I am. The blood-bought, born-again believers gathered around the Word and the Table —that’s the church Jesus is building. The bricks are just a tool in His hand. 1. A Monument to God’s Faithfulness    Some of you sold hay bales, held yard sales, skipped vacations, and gave when the offering plate looked empty felt heavier than when it was full. Some of you prayed until your knees left permanent dents in the carpet. Some of you lost sleep over permits an...

In a world filled with distractions, where everything from social media notifications to career ambitions vies for our attention, it's easy to lose sight of what's truly important. But as believers grounded in the unchanging truth of Scripture, we know there's only one rightful occupant for the throne of our hearts: the Lord God Almighty. This blog post expands on a recent homily inspired by Exodus 20:1-3 , reminding us of the foundational command that shapes our faith and lives. Let's dive deeper into why God must be first—and what happens when He's not. The Divine Declaration: Who God Is Exodus 20:1-3 thunders from the pages of the Bible: "And God spake all these words, saying, I am the LORD thy God , which have brought thee out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage. Thou shalt have no other gods before me." This isn't just ancient history; it's a living mandate for every Christian today. God isn't introducing Himself as one optio...