Holy Algebra

One cannot measure oneself against the Lord, the One who is always “ever greater.”

Any life honestly and objectively measured against perfection would be assigned an F, written in a fat black marker of sin and death. One of those really bad smelling black markers you remember from primary school that was supposed to smell like licorice.

But merged with a sweet red “t” of redemption these “F”s will be washed through a process of purification and sanctification into a golden A in eternity.

As a mathematical formula, salvation might be expressed:


I really struggled with algebra, I have to admit.

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