Decisional regeneration is heresy

My pattern of writing has been to place anything shorter into Gab and anything longer into this blog with a link to it placed in Gab.

Today, I wrote a post in Gab and I will be linking to it in this blog post. The title of this post is the last sentence in the Gab post. Feel free to read it in Gab. While you’re there, you can look at my profile to see my history. You may notice that I don’t have to misspell anything to get around censors the way others do in order to utilize Leftist controlled social media.

If you would like that same freedom to speak whatever is on your mind, open an account and follow me. Then look at the people I follow. Some are a bit… controversial. All of them are in my feed for a reason. You may want to follow some of them as well.

It’s funny how something like a little case of COVID can interrupt your momentum

That’s right. I’ve joined the club of those with naturally-produced antibodies. Before this, I was starting to pick up momentum. If I had something short and pithy, it would be posted to Gab. If it got a little long, I would start to weigh it out and perhaps it would still go there, maybe it would go here with a link to it there. I hope to regain this flow in the coming weeks, and this is my first blog post toward that end.

Relax, I’m going to tell the story. It’s actually pretty good. At least I think so.

So the early part of June was dedicated to me preparing for a high school graduation party for Ana. You may recall the photo backdrop post on this blog where I described the build process. Well after that, I introduced Dayna to the propane torch and she went to town on the backdrop for a darker burnt look. Then she added the paper flowers she had been working on. It came out looking really great! I just wish more of the guests would have used it for group photos with or without the graduation girl.

A week after the party, we dropped the dog off with my parents and started driving to Florida with a stop in Nashville on the way. That was the stop where I first noticed something was a little off. We (Two adults and three children who think they are adults) visited a honky tonk with a live band. The key draw was that they had a place where underage people could sit. Most of these places are bars with live bands and usually some food and most of them are for people over the age of 21. Not that reaching that age makes you into an adult either. The place specialized in pizza, but I wanted a burger. I’m told from the girls that the pizza was fantastic. The burger was incredible as well, but I was only able to eat two bites of it. I was hungry. The burger tasted great. I felt fine. I just couldn’t will myself to eat more of it.

The next morning we headed to Florida through a tropical storm or tropical depression. I’m not sure what the difference is. All I know is that it rained a lot. I was looking forward to visiting certain places and discussed it with the group at first, but after a couple hours of driving I started to get very tired. I slept off and on the rest of that leg of the trip. When we got to the condo I helped unload the car, because that’s one of the things the dad does, and then I went in. The bedrooms were upstairs but I couldn’t get that far. I fell into the couch on the main level and fell asleep. I didn’t get upstairs until the third day, and once I got there I barely left. I would sleep and wake up to use the restroom. Dayna brought me food and water but like before I was unable to consume it. It seemed like a mental block or something. I’m not sure how better to describe it.

Eventually Dayna had enough and she took me to an Urgent Care facility. The nurse swabbed my nose and left. I was sure that was a formality. My breathing was fine, I was just exhausted. I have had pneumonia before, and this was eerily similar. As we waited for the doctor, I was looking forward to taking the antibiotics and resuming our vacation. Instead we were told to quarantine due to a COVID diagnosis. I asked for some of the drugs that are now proven to be effective and the doctor told me that the CDC doesn’t recommend them. I didn’t have the strength to point out that the CDC owns patents on competing products so of course they wouldn’t recommend something effective that costs a small fraction of those alternatives. Instead we went back so I could focus on taking in fluids, as if that had worked for me the previous three days.

I returned to bed and forced myself to drink water. Everything I swallowed found its way out rather quickly, along with other contents of my digestive system. I’ll spare you the details but Dayna came upstairs to find me laying on the hardwood floor in my own fluids. We went immediately to the Emergency Room, where they replenished my fluids with an IV and gave me anti-nausea medication which enabled me to drink again. My ability to eat came a couple days later, but that’s OK. The human body can survive without eating for quite some time. Taking in water is much more pressing. And I may or may not have a few extra pounds that I could stand to lose. The fluids helped me greatly and made possible the rest of this story.

After some discussion and debate with the group, it was decided that we should all mask up and head back. Everyone in the car had been exposed for a few days already and if the only other responsible adult were to get what I had we would be in a real fix. One of the girls objected and used her magical age of 18 to say that she didn’t have to do as she was told. I understand she was firmly rebuffed and told to get in the car, which she did wearing two masks. I wore a mask the entire time, but not because I believe it is effective at mitigation of an airborne virus. That has been disproven time after time with real-world data. It is effective in giving teenage girls a sense of relative calmness and that is why I wore it. I took over the counter drugs like DayQuil and Mucinex to avoid coughing and rode most of the way, taking a turn at driving when Dayna got tired. Again, the fluids were very helpful and I drank lots of Gatorade on the way back.

We drove through the deep south, stopping for gas and continuing on. We drove through the night through small towns and on back roads. I marvelled that the southern states don’t seem to have any sort of highway system like they have up north. I wondered why this might be, it just seemed so surreal! After almost 24 hours, we got home and began our quarantines. In the days that followed, all three of the eighteen year old girls tested negative and both adults were confirmed positive, though Dayna had it much milder than me. She eats better than I do and she takes her vitamins. We rested and quarantined. We ordered grocery delivery and quickly saw that you’re better off choosing your own fresh produce. We improved quickly. I would estimate that I felt less than 100% for five or six days in total, but the peak of the illness was quite intense.

I have had worse illnesses in my lifetime. Pneumonia was worse. Shingles was worse. Pleurisy was worse. I would not desire to have any of these illnesses again, including COVID. All four of these are events that interrupted what my life looked like at the time. Psalm 23:2 says that “He makes me lie down in green pastures.” If the pastures are green, why would a sheep have to be made to lie down? Could it be that the sheep doesn’t realize it is in the place the shepherd knows is best for that time? Maybe the sheep thinks it knows better than the shepherd, and the shepherd lovingly corrects the sheep in such a way that it can only lie there until the shepherd is ready to move on to the still waters.


A few days ago, we used the same navigation system for a more local trip. We were pretty sure how to get there, but not sure of the details. The navigation took us in a very illogical route. City streets, stop lights and more on a route parallel to the highway. It made no sense! So I went into the settings. We had travelled from Florida to Iowa in about 24 hours under less than ideal conditions, taking back roads and gassing up at small town gas stations in the wee hours of the morning. All because the settings on the app instructed it to avoid highways. I mapped the same route allowing highways and the time difference was four hours. We spent four additional hours in that “pasture” and didn’t even realize it. I wonder what was so green about it anyway. Perhaps one day I will know.

A day of infamy

China wants all memory of this event erased.

On This Day in 1989: The Tiananmen Square Massacre took place in Beijing when thousands of students were slaughtered by the Chinese “People’s Liberation Army.” No remembrances are allowed in Communist China, but the rest of the world must never forget.

I remember the scene well, as students had learned about the freedoms of the Western world. Freedom to worship something other than the State. Freedom to seek your own happiness through employment based on your own desires and through private ownership of property. The freedom of personal success and of personal failure.

After a few days, the troops came in with armored vehicles. The bullets were not rubber. The students were not organized for such violence. They were gassed, shot, crushed under tank treads and beaten. Then morning came.

A lone student walked out into the courtyard and stood in defiance of the row of tanks patrolling the square. For reasons I can only assume, the tanks stopped and a stare down ensued. What was said? Whatever happened to the student?

And why is our government and corporations so quick to celebrate this evil regime? Is it because they want to emulate it here? Again, pure speculation. I haven’t been on Facebook or Twitter for several months now, and I prefer it that way, but I imagine this post would quickly be “fact-checked” if I did share it there.

Are you tired of censorship in the public square? Then get on and look me up.

The Faithfulness of God as seen through the Faithfulness of Christian Mothers

Our church was packed this morning as we celebrated our risen savior and remembered the mothers and grandmothers who pointed us to him. A biographical look at Timothy was the sermon, and it was shown that his father was an unbelieving Greek man.

His mother, Eunice, and grandmother, Lois, are both referenced as the ones who taught Timothy and led him to faith in a culture where women were marginalized. They couldn’t defy Timothy’s father, but they could demonstrate respectful and pure conduct while raising Timothy in the word. 1 Peter 3:1-2 comes to mind here.

I teared up as we sang “who the Son sets free is free indeed” as I recalled the bondage I was under before I was freed and talked about it on the way to lunch. My identity is no longer in my sins or my accomplishments. My identity is in Christ and Him alone, for I have nothing of value apart from Him.

My mother and my grandmothers prayed for me as I grew up and I am glad they all saw the fruit of their prayers. There are mothers who will never see the fullness of the fruit of their faithfulness. And if I’m being honest here, I hope the fruit is multiplied over generations so that no mother sees her true impact on this side of eternity.

This is not me being hateful, but loving, as any faithful mother would agree once the initial surprise wears off. May faithful generations bring the will of God to earth as it is in Heaven!

Antifa Squares! I’m so excited!

I remember the game show “Hollywood Squares” which is the game of Tic Tac Toe but where you have to either agree or disagree with an answer given by a celebrity to a question. That was the best show if you wanted some laughs!

Well it’s back! Only this time, they’re using Antifa members instead of celebrities as a reparation for all of the privilege that Hollywood actors have enjoyed. I’m guessing that you would do well as a contestant on this show to just disagree with every answer they give. Unless the judges are woke, which being in California they probably are.

Either way you play it, hilarity will ensue. And for some odd reason, members of the studio audience will first be required to sign a waiver. I’m not sure why.

Christians Engage

Zoom church is a desert with someone on the screen who won’t give you a sandwich. Socially distanced church is better, but not by as much as you might think.

Christianity is a tactile religion. Christianity is an embracing religion. Christianity was never meant to be done in a vacuum.

Christian, engage with others who are willing. Even if instructed not to do so. If they try to discipline you, you have scripture backing you up. What will they counter with? What?

Engage. Or go to where the food is.

Erasing Distinctions and the Church’s Culpability

Powerful: Military To Allow Troops To Replace Camo With Colors Of Their Gender Identity Flag

While this picture is part of a satirical news story, it actually got me thinking about something quite serious. The LGBTQxyz flag is a six colored rainbow with sharply contrasting colors. This newly unveiled trans flag has colors that don’t contrast nearly as much.

The trans movement is all about un-identifying gender, and make no mistake. This is an attack on the word of God as the definer of… everything. On a foundational level. I wouldn’t be surprised if the goal flag of whatever is next is just a single color. No distinction whatsoever. That is already hinted at in assertions that dating a trans person is not a homosexual act, or that if you refuse to date a trans person you are transphobic. And that is asserted NO MATTER WHAT GENDER IS PRESENTED ON THE OUTSIDE. Nevermind the natural desire to procreate. If you refuse to enter into a romantic person of unknown gender, you will be made to care.

Matthew 19:4-6 He answered, “Have you not read that he who created them from the beginning made them male and female, and said, “Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh’? 6 So they are no longer two but one flesh. What therefore God has joined together, let not man separate.”

God has placed distinctions in creation. Every animal was created by the twos and so were us humans. We were created to be men and we were created to be women, with man as the head of his wife even as Christ is head of the church. This is what normal looks like from the vantage of our creator. This is what is under attack. We are expected to accept all kinds of perversity if we are to love our neighbor. It will be demanded that we participate, or at least give our approval to their actions and if loving our neighbor isn’t enough incentive for us to live out Romans 1, then they will see if our undiscerning allegiance to our misrepresentation of Romans 13 is enough to force our celebration.

And our attackers, rather those attacking God our creator, are not just those saluting these flags of perversity. Our attackers are known for their inclusion in certain groups WITHIN THE CHURCH. You have heard of them. The Gospel Coalition. The ERLC of the Southern Baptist Convention. Cru. NAE. There are more, and I’m certain that there are some that have not been revealed as the wolves among the sheep that they are. These wolves will do whatever they can to persuade Christians to install political leaders who have said openly that they will be champions of perversity.

These attackers would mostly object to being listed as those attacking the foundations upon which God ordered healthy human society. I’m sure they have. I’m aware of an article on The Gospel Coalition website where they try to deflect the “woke” descriptor away from themselves. But by their fruit you shall know them. And these not only show their fruit. They serve as those who apply fertilizer. The kind of fertilizer that only serves to feed the filth that opposes the God of the Universe.

So I am saddened when I see people caught up in this sin, but not necessarily angered at them. I am, however, furious at those who would celebrate this from within the church and who would demand that others join with them. They will answer for this on the last day.

1 Corinthians 5:12-13

Can I get an outlaw?

Luke Combs is about as big of a country music artist as there is right now. He sang a song a few years back called “Can I Get An Outlaw” where he feigned angst about all these country music artists who are just out to sing pretty songs and be accepted by mainstream groups. This was contrasted to the history of country music, which has always been represented by the outlaws. That is, the artists who, frankly, don’t give a crap about what other people think. They were singing to their core audience, and if you didn’t like them, that was your loss.

Waylan Jennings. Willie Nelson. Johnny Cash. Hank Williams Jr. These are all legends, largely because they sang songs based on their experiences, regardless of what the powers that be might want to hear. They were from the other side of the tracks and didn’t care what the music charts said. If they could find an audience for what they had to say, that was enough.

Country music has changed. I remember back in 2001, when the Dixie Chicks said unpopular things about George Bush for invading Iraq. That was an example of a country act speaking against a popular action by a sitting president. A lot of people had to come to grips that country music is not some Republican mouthpiece and either love or hate them. Fast forward to 2020 where the Dixie Chicks dropped the word “Dixie” from the name of their act in order to not offend anyone.

What happened? Is speaking truth to power no longer the issue here? Are country artists ashamed of where most of them came from? Do they think that being cowardly about their upbringing will make others respect them more? I’m not saying that we should judge others by the color of their skin just because our ancestors did. I am saying that you cannot call yourself a country music outlaw and at the same time be afraid of what anyone else thinks about you.

It doesn’t work that way. Either you are an outlaw, a sellout, a mainstream performer or a coward. Luke Combs may think of himself as an outlaw but I think he shifts among the other three categories.

This culture is long overdue for an artist to speak out against it. And it seems like outlaw country is dead. The most likely candidate now is from the world of rap with Tom MacDonald. Perhaps Eminem will join him now that he has witnessed the scorched earth policies of the Woke Cult.

A blog post about blog posts is about as informative as a social media post about social media.

I’m almost never on Facebook any longer, preferring Gab, where I can speak freely. Gab is where I share shorter thoughts, this blog is where I flesh out the details on longer thoughts. I’ve said before that this blog is the hub of my online presence, and that concept has been consistent all along. Facebook is as valuable to me as a malignant tumor. If you want to find me on a site that truly endorses free speech without the fear of cancellation because you spoke too much truth, here is the link:

If you’d like to receive updates when I post to this blog, there is a sign up thingy off to the right. I haven’t had any email subscribers since the initial inception of this blog, when it all started as a “read with me through the Bible” project some 18 years ago. It was requested though, so I added it. I’ve always preferred RSS feeds, even though most people have no idea what those are.

So here’s the social media heirarchy in my personal opinion:

  1. Gab is the bees knees. You may have heard bad things, but 2020 has taught us few lessons more important than the one to verify everything you hear. Gab is so great, I have actually paid money to support the service. The benefits of being a paid supporter are not worth the cost. But the Christian values behind Gab are.
  2. The blogosphere is awesome, IF you use an RSS reader. My preferred reader is Inoreader but Feedly is much more user friendly for someone unaccustomed to RSS readers.
  3. Email is pretty good for what it is. I have taken a liking to Protonmail over Gmail, but I check both still.
  4. Facebook needs to be cut out of your life and biopsied.
  5. Twitter is the devil.
  6. Is MySpace still around?
  7. MeWe is a joke.
  8. Parler is a honeypot and does NOT support free speech, no matter their claims.
  9. If you have two tin cans and some string you can talk from treehouse to treehouse.