Sunday, June 14, 2026

The Melting Pot of Heaven

In the end times there will be racial tensions, yet when we arrive in Heaven there will be people from all over the world who are ethnically different than us. We sometimes forget that we have brothers and sisters in Christ that are not the same skin tone, language, or raised in the same culture as us.

BUT we will be all as one people in Christ Jesus, our Lord and Savior. 

So remember, treat others with love in order to show the love of our God. That one person may be inspired to find out who our God is. Reflect him, and love all people.

This doesn't mean to condone someone's sin. It doesn't mean they get a pass to violate the laws of our land and borders. It doesn't mean we bow to their Gods.

It means we tear down the strongholds by praying for their souls. It means we tell them the truth. It means we love them enough to point to a Savior who can literally save them, and grant them an eternity in Heaven. It means we can pray to a God who sits on an eternal throne that he will open their eyes so salvation will come to them before their last dying breath. 

In the name of Jesus, our risen Savior. 🙏

Revelation 7:9-10 

9 After this I looked, and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and before the Lamb. They were wearing white robes and were holding palm branches in their hands. 10 And they cried out in a loud voice:

“Salvation belongs to our God,
who sits on the throne,
and to the Lamb.”













Poem Template

A Whim to Write
On the art of starting again

I have a whim to write so write I will.
Can’t believe I am being this still.

I type and I type to no avail.
I can’t believe it, so I guess I will.

What says the key — can it really be
an a or a y? I really can’t say why.

I have a whim to write, so write I will.
When night time comes, I pick up my quill.

Some say I’m lazy and others say naught.
When I sit here and write, I’m not such a snot.

I love the sound of the keys that clank,
or the pen that strikes as I sit down to write.

Well here we go again, picking up where we left off —
not quite sure what to write, but at least it’s a start.

Good night my protagonist.
It was good to see you again.
I’ll finish your scene without you letting out a scream.

The days are long and the nights too short.
I’ll finish your story sometime in the morning.

With coffee brewed and in the mood,
I’ll pick up where we left off,
and again we will start.

— Written in 2015

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