Citizen Writers Fighting Censorship by Helping Americans Understand Issues Affecting the Republic.
If you strip away politics, slogans, and culture-war noise, the Bible gives a simple answer to why Pride—specifically the ideology of self-defined identity—is against God’s will.
For centuries Christians have fought to defend the Bible from skeptics, critics, and cultural drift. But very few have noticed the far more subtle intruder that reshaped their theology from the inside out. It wasn’t a philosopher or a heretic. It wasn’t Darwin, Nietzsche, or any modern movement. It was a poet.
The old preacher sipped his thermos of coffee, holding a fishing rod in the other hand. He asked what I wanted most in this life. I stared at the lake surface and told him I wanted peace. I was young, I came from a broken home. Peace was all I wanted.
Polygamy, in Scripture, is recorded, regulated, and relentlessly shown to be spiritually and socially destructive.
Winter cleaning, whether of our homes or our hearts, invites us to slow down, reflect honestly, and allow God to renew our hearts with grace.
Do you ever wish there were at least some things in the world that didn’t change? At least some things that were not destroyed by the ever-twisting depravity of our modern culture? I do.
One of the quiet tragedies of church history is not that Christians rejected the Bible, but that—at a critical moment—they reinterpreted it to survive cultural pressure. Instead of allowing Scripture to challenge the assumptions of the age, parts of the Church chose to soften the Bible’s worldview so it would sound reasonable to the world it was trying to convert. Over time, that accommodation didn’t just adjust emphasis; it changed how entire passages were understood.
The cited article below comes from The Irish Times, published in Dublin, and what passes for the only newspaper of record in that heavily Catholic country. Of course, that heavily Catholic country has also legalized homosexual marriage and prenatal infanticide, so . . . . Sunday, January 11, 2026, is in the calendar of …
January may feel like a long, cold stretch of waiting, but God uses these ordinary, in-between times to shape our faith, deepen our trust, and remind us that He is just as present in the January gloom as He was in the December joy.
As a kid, I had a hard time imaging the year 2000, but now, we’re more than a quarter century past that, as 2025 rolls into history.
Many churches today struggle not because the Bible is unclear, but because familiar words have quietly changed meaning. Over time, Christian language has been softened, shortened, or modernized in ways that feel harmless.
Help us to love one another. Help us to find beauty in each fellow human being. Beauty within each soul who crosses our path today. Teach us to find beauty in our enemies.
Stranger Things didn’t invent spiritual warfare—it just put it on a BMX bike and added synth music. The show works because it’s parasitic: it feeds on biblical ideas already baked into Western consciousness. Shadow realms. Invasive evil. Possession. Sacrifice. Redemption. None of this is new.
Epiphany celebrates Christ’s revelation to all people through the worship of the magi, reminding us that Jesus is revealed beyond tradition and history and still calls us today to seek Him, recognize His presence, and be transformed by worship.
In the first century, after Jesus’ life, death and resurrection, His followers were known as “The Way,” before eventually being referred to as “Christians.”
When rights come from God, the state is limited. When rights come from government, the state becomes god. That’s the quiet theological dispute beneath all the noise.
Our country — and the world — has become something I never thought I’d live to see. I suppose every generation experiences some of that as they reminisce about the “good old days.” And in retrospect those “good old days” were not as good as we probably remember them
Most people think war looks like explosions, uniforms, and some guy yelling into a radio while things burn. That’s Hollywood.
Real wars—the ones that stick—are usually won before anyone pulls a trigger.
A Dallas area church is lying to its parishioners, and destroying the trust the Christian church needs to tend a flock.
Humans didn’t wake up one day and decide, “You know what would be fun? Being irrationally creeped out by a legless tube of teeth and venom.” We were built this way.