There in God's Garden

The One who made me came in the flesh and died so that I may be reconciled to him. I had uprooted myself from his garden; I was not what I had been created to be. I was deemed unfit. But now through Christ I am re-created and re-deemed.

My healing

For those of you who wanted to know, here's the story of my miracle.
I have (had) a bad knee. My left knee was numb on one side and the rest of it hurt most of the time. If I strained it on a given day, it would hurt A LOT all day until I slept. In the morning it would most often feel better, but not great. Then, if it didn't feel better in the morning, it would hurt all day that day also. Maybe the next morning it would be better, and so on.

I was in Omaha on an Urban Plunge (Try it!), and we spent about four hours pushing heavy shopping carts for food pantry clients, after which my knee was in great pain. I was hoping the pain would go away by morning, but I really didn't believe it would. Sure enough, the next morning it still hurt - just as much as the day before.

After half a morning's activities, including a church service, I was still hurting. Then we went to another church (Salem Baptist) for their service. I remember limping on my way in.

The church was alive with praise. The Holy Spirit was most certainly in attendance.

After an indeterminate time of music and praise, the Pastor began to read from Ephesians 2. When he got to the words "But God . . . !!!!, I noticed my knee did not hurt. It was not numb, in fact, the "normal" numbness was also gone.

IT SHOULD HAVE HURT. I should have been in agony, having been on my feet for a couple of hours by then. But it felt great. In fact, it does not hurt now, two and a half weeks later.

Now I know Lutherans are not supposed to believe in miraculous healings. Well, maybe in principle; but each specific case can be explained away as something naturalistic. "Lutheran faith healing" is oxymoronic. I certainly never would have believed in healing miracles, except in the broadest possible sense.

Until today.

Shoulda written this five days ago

I've decided to become a postitmodernist. I believe nothing that can't be written on a 2x2 piece of paper. And you can't use the back cuz that's where the sticky stuff is.

What comes after postmodern?

A comment on my last post pointed out that aiming at postmodernism is problematic because there isn't a specific target. Exactly true. Nevertheless, I tilt at windmills.

A postmodernist is one who throws out the baby with the bath water, because space is needed to give the baby a bath.

Even though, as a postmodernist would point out, it would be easier, more thorough, quicker, and more permanent to burn my house to the ground, I persist in taking out the trash every Monday.