We are studying the book of Exodus in church. I marvel at how God rescued His people out of bondage by a man named Moses in the form of Charlton Heston. I also marvel at the fact that five seconds later (figuratively), the Israelites begin to complain about their unfortunate circumstances. They grumble: What’s up with this desert? Are we ever going to stop? Have we been abandoned? Are we there yet? Is this what our

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Good Friday



I am two months out from my book launching into the world. Sure, my butt has been clenched since the summer, but a new inconvenience has reared its ugly head. The whispers. I hear them all the time: You are an idiot for thinking people will care about this book. No wonder you are nervous. You should be. Everyone is going to know your business and think you are weak.

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