Put Some Gay In Your Day, Dallas!

Suffering, Suffragettes, & Suffice

My heart is heavy this week.

Suffering.  I am never remiss in my condemnation of Hollyweird awards shows.  However, after the portion of the Grammys which I suffered through Sunday night, I am positively aghast.  This debacle makes the Oscars and even the drunken bacchanal of the Golden Globes look positively sacred.  Who are these cretins?  And what manner of threadbare wizardry adorn these filthy bodies?  Even that painted up Jezebel, Dolly Parton, looked prim amid these other harlots.  And the NAMES of these alleged artists.  Are these performers so poor that they can’t afford full names?  Cardi B?  Drake?  Pink?  Grey?  And pardon my grammar, but who is H.E.R.?  Disgusting.  And speaking of Cardi B, when you accept an award, Sister, please speak English or get an interpreter!  Word.

Suffragettes.  The field of Demoncrat Presidential hopefuls just keeps growing.  Some of these would–be candidates are about as familiar to me as these Grammy performers.  One trend I do notice is the number of women throwing their tasteful hats into the ring.  As a woman of ministry and leadership, this blesses me.  However, none of these women strike me as particularly Christian.  Therefore, I am gathering prayer warriors to explore the Lord’s will on me running for this office.  I mean, if this country can elect a reality show person (Apprentice or Biggest Loser?), I should sail to victory.  Let us pray.

Suffice.  And now, a word of serious concern regarding evil in my midst.  The San Antonio and Houston newspapers have released the results of a months-long research project into sexual abuse within the Southern Baptist Church.  So many accused, yet so many still in ministry with no consequences from the church as a whole.  AND, the majority in my home state of Texas.  Alas, these are the people of my faith in whom I have no faith.  I shall remain silent on my own particular experiences in the past.  Suffice is to say that there is a reason why I am always on my knees to offer oral testimony and a special touch.  One carries on what one learns.  I am bereaved.