Have you ever tried to move a church? Our church has a unique story that involves a merge between a predominantly white church and a predominantly black church to form a gospel-centered, multiethnic church that is committed to faithful exposition of the Word and incarnational ministry in our community.[1] The merge resulted in the ownership…
the Church
Ordinary Sunday
“Church today,” I wrote in my journal early Sunday morning. “I could really use the fellowship. I’m feeling low.” I put down my pen. I hadn’t slept much. It was a relief to know I’d soon be among my church family, distracted from the interior concerns running through my mind. Better than distracted, I knew…
There Will Be No Burden-Bearing if There Is No Burden-Sharing
I was having trouble walking that Saturday morning. Exhausted, fatigued, and discouraged, I had told my husband I couldn’t participate in the church leaf-raking service project we were doing for our widows and shut-ins. I felt embarrassed when my family left the house clad in boots and gloves and armed with rakes and leaf-blowers to…
Jesus is the Thread
“What brings you joy?” she asked me. I was sitting in a room full of women, having just shared some of the trials the Lord had brought me through in recent years. “Just in general?” I questioned. “In ministry,” she answered. “What brings you joy in ministry?” Oh, that’s easy, I thought and then said…
I Need You to Read Your Bible
“I can’t believe I’m asking you to pray for this,” I told my friend sheepishly. “It’s the dumbest prayer request. I mean, God has said no for such a long time, why am I still pushing for a yes?” I laughed into the phone, but an errant tear slipped down my cheek. “I want you…
Sorrow, Joy, and Forty Years
A warm June rain soaks the world outside my window. We’ve had a few of those wild, humid summer storms that send us to the basement listening for the tornado sirens. But not today. Today, it’s just a good, gentle soaking. While I sit at my dining room table tapping away on my laptop, everything…
Missives
As fast as I could send them, they came back to me. Every day, nearly, there’s a letter in the mailbox. I thought I was the only one doing something old, something with scripted words that flow from a pen and hand cramps and premeditated thought rather than a screen with keys and clicking and…
Of Love, Sacrifice, and Toilet Paper
I didn’t buy toilet paper. I bought six pounds of rice and seven pounds of dried beans. I bought bouillon cubes and a couple extra sacks of flour. I stood at the grocery store and surveyed what was in the carts of other shoppers as I contemplated how far I could make ten cans of…