C. S. Craig, the author and founder of Word Of Truth Ministries, has been called home to glory. My dad’s greatest wish was to be in the presence of Almighty God. Now, at last, he is in the arms of his Lord and Savior.
My father knows the face of Jesus.
I am his son, G. W. Craig. I pick up the reins of my fallen father’s work with great humility, and will continue his legacy here at WOTM exactly as he intended, and as the Lord Our God wills.
Dad left mounds of studies that were never published to this site. It will take me years to post them all as I must type out each hand-written note, thought, and study by hand. There are many amazing things yet to come, things that I stand in awe over, things for which Dad always gave credit and glory to the Holy Spirit for His inspiration. I can’t wait to share them all with you.
One last thing: There are many cases of beloved and well-known pastors who have gone on to be with the Lord, ones whose sons have completely shattered the legacy of their fathers and embraced secular humanism. Rest assured, that will not be the case with me. With the exception of spelling or punctuation corrections, none of Dad’s studies will be altered or influenced by me in any way.
Dad intended to bring people to a better understanding of Scriptural truths, and to glorify Christ, the Living God. We hope this will be the case with you.
Please check back often for the latest posts. They will come almost daily.
Bye, Pop. I love you… always and forever. We’ll be together again someday, never to be parted.
October 7, 1941
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December 16, 2023
Before his passing, Dad wrote this:
I seem to hear the call of the wild in the impatient wind, and I yearn to connect with both mysteries.
Even more as I see the northern lights, I long to merge into the beauty and the wonder of the splendorous – to be immersed and filled until we become one, flashing forth to and from eternity, coming and going in the forever world of God’s glory.
It is one thing to see the beauty of light from a wooded mountaintop, and another to ride on the wings of changing flashes as they go forth and away, but coming again, forever to stay.
The abstract world is so non-human. As I seem to be approaching the light of my imaginings, I am passing from fantasies to realities. I am perhaps on my final voyage to the great realities of the mysterious fantasies of my childhood and my adulthood.
Perhaps imagining is becoming reality when the places and faces and characters of my childhood are beginning to reach out.