My daughter’s right. Mohler missed the biggest reason bi-sexual chic is in. Attention from BOYS who think it’s way cool. But hey, a seminary President can’t know everything.
I’m preaching tomorrow. I wrote my sermon notes and now I can’t remember what disk they’re on. How much more fun life was back when I was organized? Whenever that was. BTW- people who think we normally ought to be focused, emotionally stable, happy, etc, must be breathing strange gases.
I’ve gotten one letter from a preterist asking that I read a book about Revelation. If R.C. couldn’t get me there, no one else will. I’m getting notes from happy Catholics, and only Jenny has tried to get me to come over. My last post on the authority page over at the Forum says it pretty much the best I can.
I’m getting tired of kids whining about the cold weather. (Which, as the Yankees know, isn’t really cold.) Don’t students understand the concept of the four seasons? It’s still January, people. Gather up your diapers and brave it out.
Aaron Boone leaves the Reds for 5 million, goes to the Yankees, beats the Bosox with a dinger, then blows out his knee this week. Sorry Aaron. Now excuse me. HAHAHAHAHA.
Dennis Miller finally hit his stride tonight. Good show. Nobody asks interview questions like Dennis. He told Rudy Guliani that he had bxxxs the size of Macy’s floats. Won’t hear that on CNN. The grief over losing Dean as a target is palpable over there. Comedians stuck with Kerry and Edwards. Dull, dull, dull.
BTW- Kerry says he’s never heard of Botox. What’s the french word for that?
My uncle, the Rev. W.O. Spencer, is the man who showed me everything I ever knew about God that mattered before I was a Calvinist. He’s elderly and fell badly this week and is out of his head hallucinating in the hospital. Because of the “Patient’s bill of rights”, they can’t do anything to restrain him, and it’s a bad scene. Please pray for him. He is a wonderful man whose last years have not been pleasant. Pray for his wife, Dorothy. He is a special person to thousands of his flock, and it’s tough to see him going through this. He is the last of the 8 children in my dad’s family. I knew them all except one who died in his 20’s, but they were all Christians. Mountain people with great old fashioned names and faith. Hard to let them go, but a grace if they go peacefully. I don’t like to pray for comfort, but a good death is a good prayer.
Here’s a paragraph I wrote about him in “A Career in Foolishness.”
My only model for being a preacher came from my uncle, W. O. Spencer, who pastored for more than fifty years in Western Kentucky, mostly at the Hall Street Baptist Church in Owensboro where I grew up. A man with very little formal education, he carried a sense of God about him that made him different from other men. When he came to the pulpit every Lord’s Day, there was something about him that declared he had been with God. He was mysterious, different, anointed with the Holy Spirit. He was the very opposite of the stand-up comedians occupying today’s pulpits. I now realize that in him I was seeing the best of what preaching is supposed to be: a man who is compelled to pay the price to be with God, so that he may stand before other men and speak for God.