Through a Glass, Darkly.

I don’t think that you can be disqualified. I do believe that you can be hobbled.

I’m just saying that there is some line between a trial and a breaking. Almost like it’s amateur versus pro or something. I thought I was broken at 10. Turns out, there was way, way more behind curtain number two.

I sit at a point where I’m free to do as I wish. Everyone I knew as a believer, preacher, international celebrity, give it a name, they all cut ties with me when I proved to be me. I didn’t mean for that to happen. I, like all of you, thought that I was crucifying that butthead daily. His demise was greatly exaggerated.

There was no balm in Gilead for me. The “church” had no answers, just revulsion. Not because they were righteous but because there is NOTHING that a wolf in sheep’s clothing fears more than exposure.

And the good folks ran on, deep in the snow as the wolves pulled them all down.

I have to decide.
YOU have to decide.

Do you get up? They don’t want you back. By this time you stink. You were awakened, you were a believer, you followed Christ. Then you fell sick. Some fast, some slow, but you did. And when you had cried out for what seems like years, Christ did not show up for you. He didn’t. Swallow that.

Why? You followed the Spirit the best you could. You wanted desperately to please God. You adored Him and you wanted the world to know Him. Why did he not show up for you? Why did He let you die?

Because there is no glory in a fall down, baby, there is glory in the get up.

I believe something and I may stand absolutely alone. It is this –  there is a Lazarus Generation. I have preached this since the early nineties. I was given the mantle of exactly that by the preacher that coined the phrase. I thought I was Lazarus because I was Gen X and I thought that my awakening to salvation WAS Lazarus coming out of the tomb. I was sure of it. So sure, I’ve preached it for thirty years, all over the country.

I was wrong. Lazarus had come to saving faith too. Then he became sick. Then Christ came too late to spare him from the grave. And in the darkness of that tomb you sit. I sit. We sit.

But I think I hear the abundance of rain.

JC