The reality is that the Pentecostal / Charismatic / Third Wave, with all its emphasis on signs and wonders, has produced nothing verifiable that qualifies in the New Testament sense as an authentic sign of wonder.
Currently thinking about how feminism focuses on women's rights but expanded in the third wave to include LGBT rights and other people through intersectionality.
Now we're at the fourth wave and feminism is slowly dividing into subsections that are each focused on different things.
Es war eine Taxifahrt in der Vorweihnachtszeit 2017, die mich nach Murnau zum Unfallkrankenhaus der Berufsgenossenschaft verschlug. Am Fahrtziel entschied ich der nahen Murnauer Kaffeerösterei einen Besuch abzustatten. Mit Hilfe meines Navis fand ich mich auch so fern des Betriebssitzes glänzend zurecht und betrat nur wenige Minuten nachdem ich meinen Fahrgast abgesetzt hatte das Kaffeewunderland…
When I worked in the ICU during the third wave of covid I learned a lot.
One of the things I learned about most was how love works.
When I am surrounded by suffering, beeping machines and occasionally actual screams of pain, I found that I am filled with love for those around me.
The people I will never see again that laid in those hospital beds I loved them.
I loved them so much. I've never had love come on so easy or so strong but in the face death my heart fills and overflows.
Love is something that happens to me over and over.
Love is when I applied for all the graveyard shifts so I could make sure all the patient phones got charged at night.
Love is when I asked the patients after morning xrays if they wanted to see the sunrise.
Love is when a grown man who's watched his mother die in front of him, he apologizes to me for sounding angry and I tell he is supposed to be angry, that this is grief, that he can be angry at me if he needs to.
Love is making sure the patient knows what the score of the baseball game the night before.
Love has me sobbing when a patient brought farm fresh eggs to thank the ICU staff and I had to throw them out because of covid rules. I have never cried so hard over eggs.
There’s something so fascinating about Cecil winning the tumblr sexyman poll when he for the most part doesn’t have a canonical appearance, he truly is the ultimate sexyman because he’s everyone, he’s no one, he’s whoever the listener imagines him to be, so different, and yet recognizable each time, you look at him across all his designs and interpretations and you just know. You just know.