Some Days I Think

I can't think. This world's a blur. I hate their sickness. I hate their cure. Such was I, no amateur. I still hate their pretty package of manure. Sin is dumb. The world's stupid. Get out of my face, you're worthless.   But then I'm reminded that Christians are salt and light: Salt to prevent

By |2021-06-17T20:16:40+00:00June 17th, 2021|Poems, Prose|

Every Child Matters

Disturbing News and Historical Reckoning In late May of 2021, the disturbing news broke of 215 child remains discovered at a former Kamloops Indian Residential School in British Columbia. This news comes after several years of discussion, research, and raised awareness of the legacy of residential schools in Canada, forwarded by the federal Truth and

By |2021-06-05T23:53:41+00:00June 5th, 2021|Featured Prose, Prose|

Is the Government Response to Covid-19 Tyrannical?

We all agreed to shut our schools down, close our businesses, move our church services online, and wait for further notice from the government. These actions were definitely out of a sense of fear, believably out of love for our neighbours, probably out of a sense of patriotism, and possibly with anticipatory obedience.

By |2021-02-19T04:49:08+00:00January 4th, 2021|Featured Prose, Home Page Feature, Prose|

The Christmas Contrast

The story of Christmas is one of stark contrast. In both the event of the Incarnation and the history of the holiday to commemorate it, very different things are brought into close proximity. Whether from gnostic philosophy, rigorous pietists, or totalitarian regimes, Christmas celebrations have been a continual source of criticism and controversy since the

By |2021-03-05T16:17:00+00:00December 23rd, 2020|Featured Prose, Home Page Feature, Prose|

The song of the orphan

Ireland~800 AD The rich, melodious voices rose up together in unison. The high vaulted stone walls echoed and rebounded the graceful song. In the church, hundreds of candles lighted the vaulted chamber giving it a holy, almost ethereal beauty. One by one, the hooded monks walked slowly into the chapel, their chant filling the air.

By |2021-02-19T06:05:23+00:00November 4th, 2020|Prose|

What I meant in ‘The Doctrines of GRAC(E)’

Crimson Ink recently published my series of Calvinistic poems called The Doctrines of GRACE. Each letter in GRACE reflects the same concepts of Calvinism's famed TULIP, though re-ordered (G=U, R=T, A=L, C=I, and E=P). I can safely say that each artist of Crimson Ink holds to the five points of Calvinism, though we charitably disagree

By |2021-02-19T04:55:33+00:00September 12th, 2020|Prose|

Kinglish

Preacher: "Some of you are 'wonton!' You're like a 'whited sepulcher!' You may come to church on Sunday, bow your head and say your prayers Wednesday, but where are you 'wont to haunt' every other day?

By |2021-02-25T22:14:51+00:00May 27th, 2020|Prose|