As a career, the business of an orthodox preacher is about as successful as that of a celluloid dog chasing an asbestos cat through hell.
Organization charts and fancy titles count for next to nothing.
When a naked man is chasing a woman through an alley with a butcher knife and a hard-on, I figure he isn’t out collecting for the Red Cross.
Grace is the mother and nurse of holiness, and not the apologist of sin.
Chasing our goals while they were chasing us.