I don’t tell you enough how much I appreciate you. I don’t say, “I love you, church,” as often as I should.
When I was in seminary, I listed on an index card the kind of church I hoped to pastor someday. I kept the card in my Bible and prayed through it weekly. I was taught to be ready and willing to go anywhere the Lord sent me, but I hoped to live in the Southeast. I hoped God would send me to a college town. I hoped for a church that would not fishbowl my family. I...
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