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    For My Name’s Sake

    I will never forget the day I met the persecuted church face-to-face. Eight pastors entered the humble living room, relief written on their faces. Their forty-eight hour train ride from the heart of Orissa, India had brought them to a place of safety. In 2008, mass killings and church burnings plagued Orissa. These eight pastors survived, but not all in their congregations had. I stood quietly in the doorway and listened as they recounted the horror. Their story began the previous Sunday as Pastor Noah surveyed his ransacked and smoldering church. The cross that once hung at the front of the church lay amid the ashes, now nothing more than…

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    Jesus Loves Me

    I stood at the kitchen sink, suds up to my wrists, plugging away at dinner dishes. To my left, my one year old daughter stood at her own toddler size pink kitchen pretending to to be just like Mommy. I grinned at her babbling and swaying pigtails, as she stuck a pretend loaf of bread into her oven. As we both busied ourselves, my daughter’s babble broke out into song. With confidence and gusto, she belted, “Je-sus loooves meee! I know! Biiible so!!!” Night after night, week after week, month after month, I had sung her the simple song, “Jesus Loves Me.” In her most fussy nights of teething, the…

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    Let My Tears Flow

    ***April 1 marked the third anniversary of my brother’s death. Soon after his death, my dear friend Karla asked me to share some of my experience with grief and the church as a guest blogger on her site for Bible.org. This month, I have chosen to repost that blog below.   “Sister, I have cancer.” My stomach dropped. My body felt numb. My brain whirled with best and worst case scenarios. I wanted to vomit. I tried to be brave, as every fiber in my being hoped my thirty-eight year old brother was playing some kind of cruel joke. Who jokes about cancer, though? No one. The carcinoma that grew…

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    Sacraments and Spit-Up

    It was a no good, rotten Sunday. My husband and I both overslept, resulting in a thrown-together breakfast. My daughter refused to nurse. My son instantaneously despised his church shoes. No one got coffee. The car ride to church resembled a chaotic symphony of yawns, bickering and tears. We arrived at church with forced smiles. As we grabbed seats in the last row, I glanced to the front of the sanctuary, and my stomach dropped. There it stood–a pristine table of bread and juice. I sighed, attempting to curb my rotten attitude, while inwardly thinking, “Of course, communion would be today.” I used to love communion Sundays–a day in which…

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    Who do you trust?

    Everything fell to pieces six weeks into what should have been my dream life. I had spent years working toward this season, and yet I watched as everything collapsed around me. With each passing day, I sought to hold onto what I believed was God’s path for my life, despite the dysfunction, medical diagnoses, isolation, and rejection that surrounded me. I attempted to stay focused on what I knew to be God’s truth, but God seemed distant and silent. As I trudged through life, the weeks turned into months of uncertainty and silence. I spiralled as the burning question of “why?” remained unanswered. I slowly stopped trusting the Lord for…

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    Resolve to Remember

    From New Zealand to New York City, the world celebrated the beginning of not only a new year, but a new decade on January 1, 2020. Something exciting stirs within us at the prospect of something new. We are drawn to the fresh start and clean slate it provides. Whether the first page of a new journal, the fragrance of a new car, the butterflies of a new relationship, the opening chapter of a new book, or the scent of a new baby, “new” evokes a feeling of hope. We seek to make the most of our new opportunities, whether big or small, and begin to reflect on what’s to…

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    Pondering Treasures

    Every year around this time, I head to the garage and pull out the red Rubbermaid container packed with our Christmas ornament collection. I crack open the box with the anticipation of a child on Christmas morning. I breathe in the scent of the Maine balsam fir pillow tucked at the bottom and smile. I know precious memories await me, as I weed through the packing peanuts safely protecting my nostalgia.  I love the mystery that surrounds what I will pull out first. This year, my hands grabbed the handprint Christmas wreath I made with my now four-year-old son on his very first Christmas, and I remembered all the first…

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    Will Help Come?

    I stood shivering at the tram station in the heart of my new city, snowflakes falling faster and faster. If I missed the last tram for the night, I would face a ten mile walk home in a blizzard. The street signs read a language I didn't yet recognize, let alone comprehend. The sun had set, disorienting me to landmarks that might offer a small idea of where I stood. The empty cobblestone streets echoed silence. I sank onto the frozen bench and pulled my scarf to cover my face. I was utterly alone in a foreign city, with no map, no language skills, and no friends. An inaudible prayer escaped…

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    Periods, Purity and the Person of Christ

    “Miss, can we take the Lord’s Supper if we are bleeding?” I stared blankly at the eight young Indian women I had come to teach on the eastern coast of India. I flippantly answered, “Of course you can.” Fearing I had misunderstood their question, the spokeswoman for the group asked me again emphasizing each phrase. “No, Miss, at that certain time, each month, can we take the holy elements?” Checking my spirit, I responded softer, “Yes. Of course.” Still unsure there hadn’t been some language barrier confusion, they nervously glanced at each other with a glimmer of uncertain hope. “Are you sure, Miss? We can even walk into the church?…