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Ponderings of a Concerned Citizen

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Advances in reproductive technology are opening major doors, and with them, major moral and ethical questions. (Part 1) Molecular biotechnologist and social media influencer Hashem Al-Ghaili recently shared with the world his concept design for an artificial womb. His “EctoLife” wombs promise to grow human beings – by as many as 30,000 per facility – for infertile couples in a germ-free environment and on completely renewable energy. Desiring parents will be able to engineer their child, picking everything from the skin color, strength, and gender to the baby’s intelligence level and predisposition to genetic/virulent diseases. The entire “we’re having a baby” process promises to be smooth, convenient, pain-free, and achievable with the simple press of a button.
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Daddy’s Colt Peacemaker Pistol

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When Daddy died in 1984, Mother asked her ten children if they wanted something of Daddy’s to remember him by. He didn’t have much to leave, but several wanted his Colt .22 Pistol. When Mother couldn’t decide who to give it to, I suggested she sell it for a reduced price to one of us. Bill, our oldest brother, wanted it, so Mother offered to sell it to him for $300 he wouldn’t buy it.

Did I Read That Sign Right?

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A friend recently sent me some examples of signs of various natures whose authors apparently did not read them after completion. I am constantly amazed at the apparent lack of the proper use of the basics of the English language by our current generation. The following examples are not mine, but I would like to pass them along for your amusement: Sign in an office building rest room: TOILET OUT OF ORDER.

Lively hope

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My son Jonny, had just left. He had needed some supplies that; he had left at my place. And he came by to see me; as he got them. We had discussed many things. Church is a subject, always on the agenda. But, since it is a new year; we spoke of plans, for the future.

Recovery, Redemption and Restoration: It really is possible with Jesus

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Brave, bold even. To have the courage to stand in front of a hometown crowd and confess, cry out with complete transparancy, who you are, what you’re guilty of and who all you’ve hurt. It takes guts. Accountability is never anyone’s favorite word. Did I mention the crowd was full of women? Gut punch! Let’s be honest; women are often really hard on other women.