I sit here in my car before Wednesday night services, listening to birds sing from the pines, and We Are Messengers sing from the speakers. I type with one hand, because I broke the other wrist in two places this weekend. Fun times at Casa de Sipps. All weekend long, I waited for the miraculous revelation. That point where God flung himself out of heaven to speak from the burning bush and reveal this pivotal moment's purpose. But it didn't come. Let me backtrack to tell you that in ... VIEW POST
