Josh Powell. source: http://img2.timeinc.net/people/i/2012/news/120220/josh-powell-300.jpg Probably. Anyone who knows me and/or follows my writing both and on my hubpage account , knows that I was reared in a very Christian home and am now, in my thirties struggling with many common and widely held beliefs that the modern Christian church teaches. The most alarming of these is the concept of hell . I question how a loving God, a Creator who refers to Himself as “Love” would create creatures that would end up in a placed of eternal anguish called “hell”. Thankfully, because of Josh Powell , I’m clinging to the idea of hell—and of heaven—and some sort of comfort. Josh Powell was a person of interest in his wife Susan's 2009 disappearance. She is most likely dead and he is almost positively the reason for it. Killing your wife is bad, killing your children is worse and incomprehensible even to me, a lifelong non-parent. Last week, Josh Powell lost custody of his two boys and
Jonah Chapter 3 & 4 3:1 Then the word of the Lord came to Jonah a second time: 2 “Go to the great city of Nineveh and proclaim to it the message I give you.” 3 Jonah obeyed the word of the Lord and went to Nineveh. Now Nineveh was a very large city; it took three days to go through it. 4 Jonah began by going a day’s journey into the city, proclaiming, “Forty more days and Nineveh will be overthrown.” 5 The Ninevites believed God. A fast was proclaimed, and all of them, from the greatest to the least, put on sackcloth. 6 When Jonah’s warning reached the king of Nineveh, he rose from his throne, took off his royal robes, covered himself with sackcloth and sat down in the dust. 7 This is the proclamation he issued in Nineveh: “By the decree of the king and his nobles: Do not let people or animals, herds or flocks, taste anything; do not let them eat or drink. 8 But let people and animals be covered with sackcloth. Let everyone call urgently on God. Let them
In honor of Valentine's day (A Day Late) Here's a poem I wrote for my wife, before we were married. i hope you enjoy it! Last Train to Bellingham Again the train is stopped. Sixty miles out of Portland and we've been stopped for thirty minutes. Now we're going again, and now we're stopped again. We're letting another freight train pass. Three kids next to me- (oh, Lord God, bless their mother) The crunching of a potato chip bag, nickels flung against my chair, disobedient little monsters! I scowl at them not hiding my contempt. Their mother looks (tired) at me, ready to leave the little monsters on the train. A bag of chips just exploded next to me. They are all over the floor. The carpet is greasy and crumby. I don't help pick up. The bag was exploded by Dylan Thomas. The eldest- a girl- left her books in the locker at the train station. I'd kill for a cigarette. I like the train whistle- and the guy with the disheveled pink hair and pink scar
Nice video and great music--nicely done and a great tribute to your dad--
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