Archive for the ‘Community’ category
December 30, 2015
WORDS FROM W.W. December 29, 2015
Inspiration is a special gift underestimated. It is able to cause greatness that has been content to remain hidden to rise to the surface. It causes the paint on the artist’s palette to be moved to the brush and then the canvas to create a masterpiece of beauty.
Inspiration comes in the words of a coach whose heart expresses himself in tear-driven words to a team that doesn’t quite believe in itself. It awakens the potential and puts to bed the doubts.
Inspiration comes from a teacher who says with a sense of certainty to the underachieving student “You can do it!” The student goes forward with a confidence that she has never experienced before simply because the teacher believes in her.
Inspiration is looked for, but never bought. It appears in odd places, as well as frequented auditoriums and gyms.
The thing is…for many of us…the path we take in our life is influenced by someone else’s inspiration. I had a history teacher in high school whose purpose, it seemed, was to make American History as dull and uninteresting as possible. I dreaded the class. In my first year of college, however, I had a history professor for one class who suddenly made U.S. History rise from the deadness in my mind. It was thought-provoking and interesting, and that one professor caused me to change my major area of study to being a History major. Inspiration comes in unexpected places.
The man who was Associate Pastor at my home church in Ironton, Ohio inspired me to be excited about the possibilities of ministry. Jerry Heslinga was a God-send to a tired soul. I was struggling through seminary and he became the ointment for a doubting student. He inspired me to keep going.
Bill Trent was my high school track coach who inspired me to run…and run…and run. Coach Trent was a rough, football-minded kind of guy, who believed that a person rarely rose to the level of their potential, so he pushed us. If we lost a track meet we would practice right after it was over. He taught us that we had the potential to achieve was seemed unachievable. He inspired me to break the school record in the mile run…which would last for one season before Cecil Morrison, an average kid who became an incredible runner, broke it.
Inspired. How many people can you say inspired you to do something or be something? How many people complete their phrase “Inspired by…” with your name?
Categories: children, Christianity, Community, Faith, Parenting, Pastor, Story, Teamwork, The Church, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: achievement, achiever, achieving, American History, Inspiration, inspired by, motivation, urging on
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December 28, 2015
WORDS FROM W.W. December 27, 2015
Today was kind of my last Sunday at Highland Park Baptist Church, the congregation I have pastored for the past sixteen and a half years. I say kinda’ my last Sunday because I return on January 17 to speak and then Carol and I will be the main targets at a reception that afternoon.
Today ended with the congregation gathered around us for a time of prayer. It was “reserved emotional!” I say reserved emotional because the dear saints know that there is another Sunday three weeks later that will probably include the opening of the floodgates.
I took notice of several today. Marla Booth was finishing elementary school when I arrived. Now she is married to an awesome man named Austin who I love deeply, and is the mother of two beautiful little girls. Marla has a heart for people and has become more and more passionate about children in underprivileged countries around the world.
Greg and Jordan Davis came to our church several years ago after a brain tumor had been discovered. Greg and I already knew each other from basketball officiating and Timberview Middle School. When he had a couple of seizures and then the tumor was discovered I showed up at the hospital just to check in with him and to ask permission to say a prayer. A few weeks later I entered the sanctuary on a Sunday morning to see their family present for worship. We’ve walked together ever since…through the anxiety of MRI’s…and unexpected seizures…and having to share the news with their daughter that the cancer had returned. Our journeys have been tear-filled and laughter-laced.
Rex and Ann Davis were present today. Rex is 95 and Ann 93. Their days of good health have recently gone by the wayside, but they come to church when they are able. Today Rex took up the offering with the sole purpose of squeezing my finger as I stood in the front row. He is a man of God whose journey has also had a trail of tragedy as part of it. About four years ago I had the funeral of their son, Ed, who was killed in a motorcycle accident trying to avoid a deer on a two-lane mountain road. I’ve considered Rex to be my “Colorado Dad!” Her models what a servant of Christ should be. Recently, he also has had some battles with cancer that have left him a shell of who he was…and I love him deeply!
Chris Oldham was there today! A few years ago she married my area minister after being a part of our church for years and years. She and Mike often are worshiping in other congregations around the state on Sunday, and she followed Mike to be more involved in First Baptist of Colorado Springs, but she has always been an encourager for me. She got me involved in the summer camping program, not to give me something else to do, but to give me some quite moments in the midst of a camp week. Sounds crazy, right? But it has actually been exactly that!
Courtney Gage Ramsey was there. I did the wedding ceremony for her and Steve a few years ago. Now they live a couple of hours away with their three year old son. Her parents, Jack and Ellen, mean so much to me, and I was delighted she came this morning.
And then there was my son, David, who surprised us and came this morning! That was awesome…and I’m getting a little teary-eyed as I sip my decaf and type this. David’s life does not mesh easily with church life. He works as a restaurant chef, and moves in different circles. One of the things I look forward to as I enter retirement is more time with Dave…like this Tuesday night when we go to the Air Force basketball game together. Today was the first time in…years that all three of my children were in a Sunday worship service together. The Christmas Eve when Lizi “Skype’d” in and watched on a front row laptop…doesn’t count.
It was a day of gladness and sadness! A day of moving forward while treasuring what has been.
Categories: Bible, children, Christianity, Community, Faith, Grandchildren, Humor, Jesus, love, Parenting, Pastor, Story, The Church, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: cherishing, children, emotion, faith journey, farewells, journey, MRI, pastoring, remembering, sanctuary, saying goodbye, special people
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December 22, 2015
WORDS FROM W.W. December 21, 2015
This past week has been a time of death. That may sound morbid and dark, but it is the reality of the blessing of lives lived and dreams unfinished.
One death was of our church’s former pastor, a man who impacted many lives and dealt with a number of health difficulties, although the seeds for his death may have come as a result of an accident a few months ago. Regardless, death came… and took… and left confusion behind. Grandchildren were left wondering. Friends recalled shared events, conversations had, camping trips taken.
There was sadness, and yet understanding.
The second death was of a sixteen year old young man. It was most unexpected and hard to accept. Death does not discriminate between ages. Although it mostly accompanies the elderly to the next life, sometimes it chooses a different partner that takes the breath away from those left behind.
Death seems to be especially hard at Christmas time, and, unfortunately, more frequent. Our own family views Christmas a little differently now since my father-in-law passed away on Christmas Day nine years ago. In the midst of our kids and grandkids and son-in-laws there is still a whisper of loss as we remember Christmases past.
The family of the sixteen year old are being supported by numerous friends and family as they walk through this, but there are deep wounds inside them that will take lifetimes to heal. Death is like that. It comes and stays. Even when we try to shove it into the attics of our memories it knocks on the ceilings of our hearts to remind us that something…or someone is missing.
The walk through the valley that is overshadowed by death (Psalm 23:4) takes on new meaning as people struggle on.
Our hope is in the last part of Psalm 23:4. “I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and staff, they comfort me.”
Although very few of us are comfortable with death, we can take comfort in knowing who walks with us.
Categories: Bible, Christianity, Community, Death, Jesus, love, Pastor, Prayer, Story, The Church, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: confusion, dying, funeral, God is with me, grief, grieving, loss, mourning, passing away, passing of someone, Psalm 23, the valley, the valley of the shadow of death, tragedy
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December 16, 2015
WORDS FROM W.W. December 15, 2015
The group of senior folk sat around tables, enjoying the warmth of the room and fellowship. The study of the scripture passage had included a high amount of discussion and viewpoints. The cookies had long ago disappeared and coffee cups were empty. It was time to share prayer concerns…who was having a tough time, who was under the weather, who was on their way to full recovery.
A gentle ninety-something lady softly asked if she could take a minute to share a concern. Everyone knew that a heartache was about to be expressed. It was the day after fourteen people had been gunned down in San Bernardino, California…and less than a week since the shootings of three people in Colorado Springs.
There was a silence that fell upon the group. She began.
“I’m so upset by what is happening in our world. What is going on? It seems that there’s a mass shooting about every day…and I think we need to do something about it.”
“What are you thinking?” asked the group leader.
“I think we need to belly up to God! We need to get down on our knees and cry out to him.”
Twenty heads around the tables nodded. “Belly up to God”, the phrase seemed bold and urgent. Tragedy has a way of bringing courage bubbling to the surface. It resonated in the troubled wrinkled faces of each of the people.
There was a moment of pause and then the group went to prayer, praying with a sense of closeness to the throne of grace, praying with confused minds but trusting spirits. The confusion wasn’t with the One, but with the hostility that had seemed to come and take residence in the actions of people towards others that they didn’t even know.
The group bellied up to God in divine belief. The prayer time ended and they hugged and encouraged one another as they exited.
“Why” still echoed through them, but they believed that the answers could only be understood through the Almighty. Some questions would never be answered satisfactorily, but they knew He had heard their hearts.
Categories: Bible, Christianity, Community, Death, Faith, Grace, Jesus, love, Nation, Pastor, Prayer, Story, Teamwork, The Church, Uncategorized
Tags: boldness in praying, Colorado Springs shootings, fellowship, heartaches, praying with urgency, senior citizens, shootings at San Bernardino, throne of grace, tragedy
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November 30, 2015
WORDS FROM W.W. November 30, 2015
I’m having more senior moments…like when I was looking for my keys and two minutes later I discovered I was holding them in my left hand…senior moments like that.
But I also enjoy senior moments. Or, put another way, moments shared with seniors. My congregation has some incredible senior folk who are a part of it. They are the most caring, unconditional love-based, surprising group that I’ve had the privilege to pastor. They genuinely support one another, offer to help with rides, call on the phone to someone who doesn’t show up at their group gatherings.
Four of them are now in their nineties, and, although the effects of age are slowing them down, they are people of incredible faith and depth. Yesterday, a cold and snowy Sunday, none of them were able to be at worship and there was something missing. Worship isn’t a choice for them. It’s a commitment, and when they can’t come it is almost always because they are sick, are afraid of falling on ice or the snow, in the hospital, or out of town.
Another of the senior couples delight me with their humor and giving spirit. I am always blessed to be in the same room with them. The wife’s laugh is contagious and joy-filled. the husband’s stories are filled with wit that result in chuckles.
A retired military man and his wife grace me with their friendship. Even though we are not necessarily on the same page politically they are two people who give to others in sacrificial ways. The wife has a heart of gold that causes her to become emotional as she talks about the ordeals that others are going through. The husband serves every Sunday in some way, whether it be transporting one of the seniors or ushering and greeting people.
There’s an African-American lady who is like my “Black Mom!” in fact, I call her “Mom” from time to time. She gives me “instruction”, just like my mom did, prays for me, gives me “the look” just like my mom did. Wisdom and exhortation from her guide me in my journey.
There’s a lady who was a baker. She kneaded the doe for bread and cinnamon rolls. Her love went into each of her baked goods. Now she “kneads” the pains and heartaches of others each day in her prayers. Like working the doe, she works the words of her prayer for the sorrows of others. Her foundations are prayer and scripture.
There’s another lady who is the group guardian. She sometimes senses the indecision of the group and says “Here’s what we’re going to do!” She senses when someone doesn’t want to impose on anyone else, and tells the the person that things will be taken care of. She’s the Joshua in a group of Jack and Jills.
Another lady, who is on the younger end of the seniors, has a gentle spirit, an attitude of grace, and the heart of a servant. A widow, she has encountered her share of sorrow, and knows the journey that many of our senior folk are on.
There’s another woman who moved here a few years ago from another state. She volunteers whenever there is a need…at the local school, for Wednesday night dinners, giving out food to those in need, making quilts and clothing. The last few months have been hard for her as her health has taken some hits. She does not have a high opinion of doctors, but has a very high opinion and love for the woman just mentioned before her.
A widower who has started coming to our group recently is my razor…and also someone I razz. We feel very comfortable giving soft jabs to one another. I had his wife’s funeral a few years ago. She was killed by a drunk driver. Pain and sorrow have punctuated his world, and this group of seniors keeps him anchored and cared for.
Another woman who is fairly new to the group makes the best cookies I’ve ever eaten. In her mid-eighties she has a smile that would like up a cereal box and a warmth that is accepting of others.
Another couple are like Aquila and Priscilla, serving in ways that do not make headlines, but needed. The man has become the best friend of another guy who has endured a life of disappointment and heartache. These two are people who are gifts from God, people who “come alongside” someone in need.
And then there is a transplanted Buckeye who is in the midst of jubilation this week for his college team’s victory over Michigan. He imparts his wisdom to me, and encouragement for decisions made and sermons preached. His emails are always in capital letters. In fact, if they were capitalized I would instantly know someone had pretended to be him.
So many blessings! So much enjoyment that has come into my life from folk who have traveled the journey of life.
As I enter my last month as their pastor I know…i know…I know that I have been greatly blessed!
Categories: Bible, Christianity, Community, Death, Faith, Grace, Humor, Jesus, love, Parenting, Pastor, Prayer, Story, Teamwork, The Church, Uncategorized
Tags: blessings, caring, elderly people, Encouragement, humor, Joshua, ninety year olds, Old age, senior adults, senior folk, Seniors, servant, serving, supporting, supportive, widow, widower, wisdom
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November 30, 2015
“Zechariah asked the angel, ‘How can I be sure of this? I am an old man and my wife is well along in years.’” (Luke 1:18)
It is much easier to doubt than it is to hope. Doubt takes little effort. It comes like the incoming tide of an ocean shore…wave after wave inching its way up the sand…changing the configuration of our thoughts. Hope takes invested commitment.
Doubt pushes its way into our visions of the future. What will God do during this time? Doubt detours around God and muddies our journey. What new directions will God take us in? Doubt stubbornly roots itself in the stiffness of the present. What better things does God have for us as we journey through our life with him? Doubt sees no good, no possible renewal.
When we allow hope to rise we step into the certainty of God’s promise. We step out of our Zechariah moment and into the delight of Elizabeth’s new hope.
Some folk in our churches have to be nurtured out of doubt. There may need to be some people who walk alongside them and usher them towards hope. “Zechariahs” take a little longer to arrive at hope. Sometimes it takes a little more persuasion…a tied tongue for a while…for someone to discover the assuredness of God’s promise.
Let hope arise! Let hope arise! Let us be able to see the hope and excitement of Elizabeth’s words: “The Lord has done this for me!” (Luke 1:25a)
Categories: Bible, Christianity, Christmas, Community, Faith, Jesus, Pastor, Prayer, Story, The Church, Uncategorized
Tags: Doubt, Elizabeth, God's promise, hope, Luke 1:18, the angel Gabriel, the gospel of Luke, Zechariah
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November 25, 2015
WORD FROM W.W. November 24, 2015
A long-time friend of mine who recently lost her sister to cancer wrote a post on her Facebook page that resonated with me. She said, “Because of all your sincere prayers on my behalf my anger (that is a bit extreme) at God is gone. I was disappointed the Lord did not heal my sister on this earth. I am choosing to run to Him, not from him.”
What is the direction of our run when we are in pain? It is easy to run from the God who didn’t answer our heartfelt prayer in the way we desired. Distance from God is a natural reaction to disappointment with God.
My own running has been punctuated by sprints away from God and slow crawls back to him. My running away in disappointment has sometimes been the result of God not going along with my desire for my enemy to suffer, or the absence of an angelic choir to sing about how my answer to a hotly debated problem is right.
Sometimes my running away comes from the unfairness of life, sometimes it happens because I don’t want to be fair with God.
My friend’s reference to running to him is using the lane with few footprints in it. David chose to run in this lane quite often, but, as we know, he also had his races of retreat.
What is the direction of our run? When the content of our prayers is dominated by the wants of our life we can expect that there will be a running from the Giver of grace. When our prayer is focused on our relationship with the Father running to him will often be our response.
If I am secure in my belief that what God wants for me is wholeness, not hurt, I will be slowly running to him.
We have a way of putting “what if’s” in our theological outcomes. Another friend of mine from years ago lost his daughter in an accident recently. I can not understand his grief, and, therefore, how he is journeying through the loss of life. Knowing the depth of his spiritual journey I’ve got a feeling it resembles someone swimming laps in a pool…the swimming away is followed closely by a swim to…and then a swim away!
My choice to run to God seems much less complicated than his.
This is Thanksgiving Week. A time to run to God and recognize that he is caring, concerned, loving, and kind. In a world with daily terrorist threats and warnings I’m choosing to be in the shadow of his wing…the cleft of the rock…rather than the isolation of my disappointment.
Categories: Bible, Christianity, Community, Death, Faith, Grace, Jesus, love, Parenting, Pastor, Prayer, Story, The Church, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: angry with God, David, Disappointment, disappointment with God, grief, loss, Prayer, Psalms, Running, running to God, spiritual journey
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November 17, 2015
WORDS FROM W.W. November 16, 2015
We’re in the midst of a mid-November blizzard. Schools closed, roads closed, people stranded…all those signs that point to the wisdom of staying home. The wind is blowing like there’s no tomorrow. Snow drifts greeted me when I opened the garage door this morning.
Glad I got the lawn mowed yesterday!
This morning I looked out the window in our dining room to our back yard. On our wood fence in the back there is a sign that has been there for a number of years, almost like a picture frame, that says “Dream!”
It reminds us to envision, to imagine, to think the impossible.
But the strong winds and blizzard cold has loosened one of the nails that has been holding the “Dream” in place. Today it swings back and forth on the fence board with uncertainty, as if it has been abandoned. It conveys the mixed message of falling dreams, almost like someone imagining the “not yet” being pulled back down to reality.
Jesus was a dreamer! He preached about the Jubilee year of renewal, release, and redemption; encouraged kids to come to him; envisioned his death and resurrection, talked about healed people and exorcised demons. Of course, he did more than talk! He made what people thought were crazy ideas into realities.
Sometimes we’re guilty of raising up people of faith who have given up on their dreams. The dream sign is swinging back and forth in the winds of church life. The wisdom of how to raise up people of faith is tempered by the pull back into congregational conformity.
“God has given me a vision for helping people in the midst of addiction!”
“God has placed a dream within my spirit to start a ministry where a team of people offers free vehicle inspections to senior folk.”
“God has not allowed me a good night’s sleep because of a dream he has given me to mentor kids in reading at the local elementary school.”
“God has given me a vision to make mittens for kids at the mission we support in British Columbia.”
Dreams come in all sizes and shapes, places and people. I’m convinced a big part of God’s masterpiece gets conveyed through the dreams of his followers. Sometimes they make perfect sense and sometimes, on the surface, they are lacking in common sense. How does the church keep dreams from falling? How do those of us who have been followers of Jesus for a long ways support the new directions of the younger generation?
It takes a bit of faith to see that lemonade comes from lemons. It takes an abundance of hands to be the under-support of a person’s dream that seeks to rise.
When the blizzard passes I’ll go out into out back yard and pound the nail back in place on our “Dream” sign. Or perhaps I’ll take the sign off from where it is and raise it up another six inches!
Categories: Bible, children, Christianity, Community, Faith, Humor, Jesus, Pastor, Story, Teamwork, The Church, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: conformity, creative, creativity, doubts, Dream, dreamer, dreams, imagination, innovation, innovative, Jubilee, rising above, the impossible, visions
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November 16, 2015
WORDS FROM W.W. November 16, 2015
In recent weeks I’ve come to realize a few things about being the adult. Sometimes the younger ones we’re raising up, teaching, discipling, are teaching and mentoring you…the adult, the teacher, the pastor…perhaps more than you’re impacting them.
About a month ago, when I was in Chicago, I had dinner with a young lady who was in the youth group I directed more than thirty-five years ago. I still refer to Cyndi as a young lady even though she is now in her mid-fifties! When we met for dinner we had not seen each other for about ten years, but it was like we had seen each other the day before. A three hour conversation ensued. It was delightful to talk about the past, the present, and the future; to hear what God has done in her life and the lives of her family, to hear of a special mission project that her ninth grade son has initiated that has taken off.
And in the midst of it I realized that Cyndi, and her friends Laura, Sue, George, Wave, and others had raised me up as a youth minister. They showed grace to me when I was trying to figure out how to communicate scriptural truth to adolescents. They gave me the freedom to laugh at myself for my moments of cluelessness. They stood beside me in times of lacking confidence, and showed me that there are different ways of looking at a relationship with Jesus besides the Baptist mindset, the only view I had ever experienced.
And perhaps most amazing, and deeply moving, was to hear that Cyndi had become a follower of Christ at a Young Life Camp in Colorado I took a van load of students to the summer I was on staff at her church. For some reason I hadn’t been aware of that. And now 37 years later I was blessed to discover the rest of her story.
The students we mentor often becomes the students who mentor us.
Last week another of my former youth groups students, Deb Simpson Aldridge, went home to be with the Lord. She battled cancer, and cancer finally won, but her victory was assured even in the midst of death because of her faith in Christ. Deb was part of the first youth group I directed at First Baptist Church in Marseilles, Illinois. I had just graduated from Judson College in Elgin, Illinois, was going to start seminary that next fall, and was hired by the church to be the summer youth director. I had never had a youth position before…operated out of the experience of cluelessness! Deb and her sister Connie were two high school students in the youth group who accepted me right away. At my less-than-stellar bible study gatherings they would voice their thoughts and help me to keep going. There is nothing quite as disconcerting than to lead a group of students who sit there and look at you like you are speaking a foreign language. Deb would share something, or, in a loving sisterly way, tell Connie that what she just said was ridiculous.
Deb had a dry wit and humor that made our gatherings or road trips in the van experiences of laughter-laced fellowship. Anything I planned or suggested she would support. Think of it! A young guy right our of college with no experience could have been trampled to a ministry death by a youth group that saw him as an outsider to be neglected, but this youth group raised me up to proceed forward for a forty years of ministry. They could have killed me, but inside they mentored me.
Deb’s passing made me realize the effect she had on my life and my ministry.
Cyndi, Deb, Connie, Steve Landon, Shirl Streukens, Jon Daniels, the Epps Twins, Phil Girard, Jon Girard, Amy Anderson, Keri Anderson, John Chora, Brad Johnson, Tiffany Chora,Tony Lamouria…the list of student mentors for my life is long and deep.
A big part of how I see ministry…especially youth ministry…has been chiseled into my person by their hands.
And I am very, very blessed!
Categories: Bible, children, Christianity, Community, Death, Faith, Grace, Humor, Jesus, Parenting, Pastor, Prayer, Story, Teamwork, The Church, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: adolescence, church van., Deb Simpson, disciple, Marseilles Illinois, mentor, mentoring, Young Life, Young Life Camp, youth director, youth groups, youth minister, youth ministry
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November 10, 2015
WORDS FROM W.W. November 9, 2015
I never knew my dad’s dad. He was killed in a mining accident when my dad was in his early teen years. When you don’t know someone you miss out on part of the family story. You forget that there was family history before you ever were!
A little more of the family past was revealed to me by my dad when I was visiting him back in Ohio about a month ago. I hadn’t really thought about why my dad had been named “Laurence Hubert Wolfe”. He just was…that’s all! I never knew him by any other name and didn’t question it. It’s like breathing…we don’t think about it just is. For all I knew,
But there is a wonderful story of redemption and grace behind my dad’s first and middle names. His father, Silas Dean Wolfe, had a tendency to drink too much. Alcohol was destroying his life one shot at a time. He was losing his grip on things. My dad never said that my grandfather was an alcoholic, but he had one foot stepping into that problem.
When it seemed that he was a lost cause two Baptist ministers came into his life and walked with him through the struggles. They stayed beside him in the midst of the temptations, and lifted him out of the depths. The names of the two Baptist ministers were “Laurence” and “Hubert.” The impact of their tough love and restorative grace was so profound that my father bears their names as his names.
For many of us, our names are passed down from one generation to the next. My two names comes from a great uncle and my Uncle Dean. Some of us are “Juniors” or “the third!” But my dad’s name…Oh, my! His name is a constant reminder that the depths of a person’s life can still be ascended from. His name reminds him of where his dad had fallen and how he had risen again. His name reminds him of people who come into our loves as messengers of redemption, stand beside the broken, and never leave us!
Categories: Bible, children, Christianity, Community, Faith, Freedom, Grace, Grandchildren, Jesus, love, Parenting, Pastor, Prayer, Story, Teamwork, The Church, Uncategorized
Tags: alcoholics, Baptist ministers, Dad, family history, family story, grace, ministers, pastors, recovery, redemption, restoration, tough love
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