“God, is this really what following you looks like?” Brandy Pardee checked all the boxes: Christian woman, Bible college grad, pastor’s wife, mom. But she realized she wasn’t becoming more like Jesus. Today she carries a fresh perspective on her faith, knowing that none of her questions were too big for God.
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For Katie Jo Sanderson, much of her life as a teen revolved around cancer. Today, she looks back with gratitude … and with encouraging words for others dealing with anxiety. Read More
“Depression is something about me. But it doesn’t define me.” Bethany Timmons talks about how walking through dark places draws us to depend on God — and can help us better serve others.
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“God, you don’t understand what it’s like!” Even as Kari Heckler shouted those words from a place of deep pain, she felt God gently telling her: “Yes, I do.” Read More
I love to run. It’s my time to decompress, pray and just be with God in his creation, doing something I believe he’s created me to do. Back in March, I was praying for a way to bring joy to others during COVID-19. While I was running, an idea popped into my head to create a virtual run. I wanted to give people something to look forward to, to have fun with and to bless the community during these challenging times. I’d charge a small fee to participate, make the medals myself and we’d donate everything to charity. Read More
COVID-19 continues to run its course and affect each of our lives. No one is excluded. I know many in our church family, especially our elderly, are sheltered in place and feeling cut off from life, family and friends. Our tendency in such times is to become downcast, negative and to blame God. We don’t like being placed in situations we can’t control.
And yet, unknown difficulties have always come into the lives of people. God has often been blamed and questioned “why.” Martha and Mary’s lives were thrown into a tizzy with the death of their brother, Lazarus. Human nature wants to find someone to blame, and they found Jesus to be the culprit in their brother’s death. Why? Read More
Sunday after Sunday, my dad and I sat in the last row of the church balcony, under the clock. As the organ swelled, we stood to sing hymns from a well-worn maroon hymnal. We always shared, and I remember my dad’s thumb, always on the lower righthand corner of the page.
As a young schoolgirl standing next to my dad, it didn’t occur to me to wonder why we always kept that weekly appointment. It was part of our weekly family rhythm. Years slipped by and eventually I started to question: Why do we keep coming? The hymns never change. What we hear never changes. What’s the point? Read More
