Come Down, Lord!

A while back I wrote about some recent medical issues. At the time I was very positive. I believe that was entirely owing to God’s grace. He drew near and seemed to shed His love abroad in my heart. Though I had times of anxiety, my overwhelming experience was joy. But in recent months it’s been more difficult. In November I learned that I likely have a rare metabolic myopathy. If so, there is no cure. What makes it particularly challenging is that because my condition is so rare, we still don’t know where this is going. When I last wrote I had what I thought were significant limitations. But in the months that have followed I have experienced a fairly significant decline. When I am not in a flare I can still walk short distances. Often I use a cane and sometimes a walker.  And then two nights ago I needed a transport chair to get to the washroom. Even when I am not in a flare, going around the block or shopping are out of the question. For longer trips like those I need a wheel...

  The following is taken from the first in a series of sermons on the Song of Solomon.   -- “Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth.” I want to begin by clearing up a misunderstanding that has ruined the Song of Solomon for many—a misunderstanding that has done great disservice to the Church and proved profoundly dishonouring to the One who is so gloriously pictured in this book. The Scriptures teach us that there is a greater than Solomon (Matthew 12:42), and it is this greater Solomon, the Lord Jesus Christ, who is represented by the person of Solomon in this song. Please do not mistake this for a mere love song between King Solomon and one of his many lovers. I am with Robert Hawker when he says, “I venture to believe that there is not a line in it which hath the smallest reference to Solomon king of Israel…” The timing of the book makes it impossible that this should be about him and Pharaoh’s daughter, as some have supposed (1 Kings 3:1), but the text itself...

  Over the last several months, as I have followed the news, I have become increasingly dismayed by the Trump administration and have begun to wonder when the evangelical Church will say “enough.” I began this blog out of a burden for revival, but my first post , and many of the posts that followed, were about COVID and the lockdowns. I was concerned then about what looked like tyrannical overreach on the part of our own government, but I was particularly concerned with what I saw as the failure of so many churches to act on first principles. We had been saying one thing for years, but when put to the test, we did something else entirely. I acted as I did in 2020 and 2021 because I believed, as I do now, that “God defines public worship to include the physical gathering of His people (Leviticus 23:3; Psalm 89:7; Hebrews 10:25);” “that we are explicitly forbidden from rendering to Caesar what is God’s (Mark 12:17);” “that we must obey God rather than man (Acts 5:29);” and “that Chri...

All of my readers know what it is to suffer. We all pass through difficult seasons—physical, emotional, or spiritual, and sometimes all three at once. When I compare my own recent trial to the tragic losses others have faced, I hardly dare to call it a trial at all. Still, something has taken place in this season that feels worth sharing. In March 2025, I was hospitalized with severe rhabdomyolysis (rhabdo)—a condition in which muscle tissue rapidly breaks down, releasing harmful proteins into the bloodstream. My creatine kinase (CK) levels, which indicate muscle damage, were quite high—over 60,000, far beyond the normal range. In the months since, I’ve had two more episodes and a series of related symptoms that have led to repeated hospital visits. I’ve been told that it isn’t a matter of if but when another episode will occur. I am now quite limited in what I can safely do; and yet something wonderful and unexpected has happened. I have found myself overawed by the sense of God’s l...