There’s one thing about the Holy Ghost. You just never know when he’s gonna make something into a teaching moment. So, a couple of weeks ago, when I was thinking about the Kingdom of God, and praying, “Your kingdom come, O Lord,” the Holy Spirit said something that upended some of my theology.
“Don’t you mean our kingdom?”
For a second, I didn’t know what to think.
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Hi, I’m Nancy. A church staff canceled me. I loved ministering at this church for many years and never would have dreamed something like this would happen to me. But it did. After several months of going through turmoil, I finally escaped. There was no way I could stay there! I saw the cancel writing on the wall. Before long, my “canceling” wasn’t just among some of the staff, it passed on to numerous church members who wouldn’t talk with me, which hurt even more. I’ll never forget the pain of being hurt by the church. It pushes me to despise the modern church cancel culture. Whether you’re on church staff or a church member, I’m challenging you to be different! I’m pleading with you to join me in canceling our church cancel culture.
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Twenty-four years ago, I wondered what role women had in Church, beginning a lifelong journey of questioning, serving, and then questioning some more. All while simply being available to where God would have me.
My questioning stemmed from having been raised as a missionary kid (MK) in France with exposure to various theological perspectives from multiple denominations. Because there were so few evangelical Christians in France, our local church was composed of a Mennonite family on one end of the evangelical spectrum to a Pentecostal family on the other end. At one time there were 17 different nationalities represented in our congregation of just over 100 people. As an elder-led congregation, each member of the board taught when we were in-between pastors. Different male and female worship leaders led the congregation in a time of worship, Scripture reading, and prayer before the sermon. So, I was accustomed to experiencing the Bible from various denominations, geographical influences, and social economic brackets.
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Christmas morning...
The cold gray San Joaquin Valley fog seemed to close in around me as I drove. The morning had already been filled with experiences and circumstances that left me feeling as cold and gray on the inside as the fog appeared on the outside. My thoughts replayed the phone conversations, the people I loved and cared about, the hurts and struggles.
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During my first trip to Israel in 2004, I had a revelation of what God did on my behalf when he hung on the cross and just how much God loved me. As I strolled through the Garden of Gethsemane I wondered if he saw my face before I was born. I walked over to the nearby Church of All Nations that was built over the rock slab on which Jesus prayed before his betrayal by Judas in the Garden. I knelt by the rock and reflected on the night before his crucifixion. As I reached out and laid my hand on the rock, I began to sob, racking sobs. In that moment I realized just what he had done for me. It became real to me. When I think back on that experience, I realize just how powerful God is and how that increased my confidence in who he is, who I am, and my security in him.
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