Two Hundred Gusts of Prevailing Winds

On my 100th post, a covenant gentleman called me a lying Medusa, and the name “Prevailing Winds” has already sparked at least three fart jokes from trinitarian skylarkers and other young patriarchs. This is Post # 200, and it’s been an adventure. I’ve been cursed in the name of Jesus; told that my empty works of ministry will burn like wood, hay, and stubble; and been reminded too, too often that there’s a depressing correlation between the Biblical shakiness of some theological traditions and the malice with which they’re defended.

Someone even said my dog was ugly. Is this a fallen world, or what?

But I’ve been gratified as much by the mean stuff as by the many emails, phone calls, and in-person comments I get from people who like what I have to say and hope I keep saying it. My cousin in Little Rock, my mother’s pastor in Tucson, my old college roommate in Boulder, a science writer and novelist friend in Virginia, and a lot of other people from across the country read Prevailing Winds; so do neo-Confederates in North Carolina, fundamentalist Baptists in Texas, Reformed agitators in New England and more snarky classical Christian college students than any North Idaho town could possibly hold. I don’t know how many people are checking in, but I thank you all. I hope that the cause of the Gospel is enriched, Christ’s people are encouraged, and those who don’t know him are edified. And if you’re entertained, well . . . laugh with me or at me, but maybe the Lord will use something here to enliven your walk with him.

And while Perry the Wonder Puppy isn’t the most handsome little guy around, he’s man enough to take his knocks, too. Just like his mom.

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