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Posts By Noel Adams


The View from 99

About a week ago, my darling husband was lamenting the impact pregnancy has on fathers. He summed it up with “Fifteen months. That’s positively scandalous!” I stared in disbelief. Surely he jests… First, the school marm in me wanted to hand him a pencil and paper. “Using two unit multipliers, convert eleven pregnancies to days.” But no. He wants to talk in months; fine, we’ll talk in months. “99.” Eleven pregnancies converts to ninety-nine months of my life being pregnant. That’s eight years and three months. Your point?  His shocked silence told me I had hit home. “Well, when you put it that way…”. . .
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Plumb

  When Rob Bell commented recently that “I have gay friends who are serious followers of Jesus,” I wasn’t surprised at all. Bell, who masquerades as a Christian pastor, has always pushed the envelope when it comes to Truth, challenging orthodox Christianity on just about every important point. But his choice of words is very telling: “followers of Jesus.” I hate that term; I really do. But “Christ-follower” has gained lots of traction in the past few years, mainly among the thirty-something set. And, for a large part, these are actually genuine converts who say this. (Set aside for a moment today’s. . .
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Get Him! In Defense of Justice

Alex was all of five years old. Her sibling had done something to her, I don’t remember what, and she was scandalized. She pointed up the stairs where the hardened little criminal had disappeared, and she looked at Brett, her eyes blazing fire. “Get him!” He was ‘got.’ And that was the end of that. I keep waiting for a hero to emerge amid all the gore and the horror and the wickedness of the Kermit Gosnell story. Maybe a mother who sat up and said, No. Maybe a co-worker who stepped between him and the baby and said, No.. . .
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The Good Life

We went to a party today. And when I say party, I don’t mean the sanitized Christian kind where there are…Christians. I mean PARTYYYY party. One of Brett’s old co-workers had turned 50, and she was throwing a big bash out at the lake house. She even invited Brett and me–and our whole family. She loves our family. So, we went. It’s always the kind of outing I have to mentally gear up for. I mean, I love her; I really do. But the crowd is not made up of our people. It’s ‘them.’ ‘They’ are mostly aging yuppies, every. . .
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Noel Adams

Noel Adams.

Wife. Mother. Sinner saved by Grace. My heart beats for family, theology, politics. My posts are sometimes fun, sometimes fierce but always me. My passion is Holiness, but my cry is Mercy. I love the passionate; I disdain the false. And I am most grieved when that falseness is found in myself. Soli Deo Gloria
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