I am no expert theologian. I wish I were well-educated in a school that teaches theology and ministry, but I am not. I am not because I am educated in other areas. I hold 4 degrees in 3 fields: two degrees in science, a B.A. in Spanish and a M.S. in Healthcare Administration (Business). This begs an important question. Why should you listen to my thoughts and opinions in this book or blog. The answer, to me, is that you shouldn’t. You should look for and listen to God in the blog and book. I would not elevate any work of mine to that of scripture or prophecy, but I am trying to write truth. God is truth.
So, if there is anything good, right or true in my writing you can be sure it was God’s idea, not mine, nor an idea I gained and worked through in seminary school.
Which brings us to why am I writing? God called me to write because he has closed evry other door and window that I van possibly think to go through. I also occupy a unique space, as a non-traditional theologian. My writing looks into the question of why are we the way we are and what can be done about it? I am obsessed with these two questions. Hence the name of the blog “Why, Dad.” I have always been obsessed with these questions. It has made me well-versed in history. Why is not a question that I fear but rather embrace. I think my embracing of the question why is the reason God had me write. That and I am no one. So if this writing does well, it will be quite clear that it is not my skill or training that allowed it to be so, but something that God wished to be completed. God will get all the glory because the Lord deserves all glory. God receiving the glory is kind of the whole point anyways. I think that’s why 1 Corinthians 1:27 says this:
“But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong.”
To sum, I am writing because God indicated that it be so. I am not educated nor wise, and hopefully I will shame no one. But God will get all of the glory of any of my success.
Why are you writing, Dad?
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