๐ ๐ก๐๐ฏ๐๐ง’๐ญ ๐ฌ๐ญ๐๐ฉ๐ฉ๐๐ ๐ข๐ง๐ญ๐จ ๐ ๐๐ก๐ฎ๐ซ๐๐ก ๐๐ฎ๐ข๐ฅ๐๐ข๐ง๐ ๐๐จ๐ซ ๐จ๐ฏ๐๐ซ ๐ ๐ฒ๐๐๐ซ….โฃ
…. ๐๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ด๐ต๐ญ๐บ, ๐’๐ฎ ๐ต๐ณ๐บ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ง๐ช๐จ๐ถ๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ต ๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ธ ๐ ๐ง๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ญ ๐ข๐ฃ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ต ๐ต๐ฉ๐ข๐ต. โฃ
Looks like many churches will be closing their doors this Sunday to help prevent the spread of the COVID-19. โฃ
What you find below is my confession to a bundle of personal practices that have caused many pain and heartache. So here it goesโฆโฆ
Approximately three years ago, I found myself dragging my soul through the darkest corridor Iโve ever traveled through. It didnโt help that I created this mess myself. Somewhere along the line of trying to navigate life outside of my calling….
My initial reaction was nauseaโฆ then the nausea was followed by deep sorrowโฆ. My heart hurt for this young man. Iโm almost sure that he was completely blind-sighted by the backlash caused by his shirt. Iโm positive that all he wanted to do was share the gospel. Instead, he was tar and feathered by two bitter crows.
I sat there on the couch, surrounded by people that I loved and cared about, but at that moment I would have given anything for an excuse to get up and leave.
The proposition was a simple one. The church needed both a janitor and an associate pastor. Unfortunately, they could only afford to hire one. I could tell that the pastor was trying to sell me on the arrangement, but his efforts were pointless. I had my mind made up before any attempt to convince me was made.
All six of them stood before us, that day, all in a row. We all knew what was coming and it wasnโt good.
I hated these moments and had witnessed them one-too-many times. I never understood why the congregants allowed this archaic practice to take place. ย Were all of them too fearful to stand up and do something about it?
Recently I’ve had to face an important element of my faith journey that my religious upbringing and theological studies did not prepare me for.
