Dearest Grubnat, my poppet, my pigsnie,Read the rest here.
The reports of your progress warm my blackened heart. When you were assigned to one of the Enemy’s ministers ten years ago, his infernal Majesty and I knew you’d have a rough go of it. The zeal of one new to the pastorate can be a daunting challenge to even the most cunning of our comrades, but we also believed that time breeds all wounds and that your task would become easier the longer your patient remained. You now prosper from that sweet spot of pastoral fatigue and assimilation. The shine of newness is gone. And up pop the cracks in the ministerial armor.
There are many temptations common among the Enemy’s undershepherds but one universal temptation of them arises from their flesh...
A Crack in the Ministerial Armor
Jared Wilson discovered a hitherto unpublished letter by Wormwood about the subtle art of undermining a pastor.
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