In a fallen world, hospitals are perplexing places. They can represent the very best of times, such as the birth of a child, and the very worst of times, as with the death of a loved one. Indeed, life and death are so often held in the palms of a simple hospital bed.

This article marks my hundredth post on Iotas in Eternity. While one-hundred posts may not seem like very much when stood up against other writers whose output seems limitless, both quantitatively and qualitatively, it feels like a milestone for me all the same.

With another Easter just around the bend, there seems no better time than the present to have a much-needed—though, heretofore much-neglected—conversation about The Chosen.