I’m thinking that dead faith stinks in the nostrils of God like the dead possum I passed on the road the other day (on my bike; how long can you hold your breath climbing a 10% grade?). I don’t want to go there again – with God, or past that possum. And I hope He doesn’t have a clothes pin with my name on it.
It occurs to me that what we have come to call “inspiration” is the faith of Christ rising up in us. I was recently “inspired” by Francis Chan’s book, Crazy Love. My question: If I don’t respond with the work of faith, how long do I have before “faith without works is dead” kicks in?
Your servant and His,
Rob
P.S. Okay, I’ve just got to say that I am amazed at how many pictures of “possum road kill” can be found on Flickr. What are people thinking? Tip of the day: Don’t go there (at least not within two hours of a meal).