She jumped out of the booster seat onto the floor of the minivan, and reached for her mom to help her onto the ground. At four years old the world was such a big place—and so fascinating! Every visit to the park, the library, the store, and the science museum promised new adventures and raised her excitement levels.
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Several years ago, I was privileged to attend an adoption ceremony that touched me deeply. A special family was adopting a precious little boy. As the official proceedings took place, I experienced a fresh insight into our relationship with our heavenly Father.
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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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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.
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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.
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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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Have you ever felt jealous of God’s choice of someone to fill a position you wanted? I have.
Have you ever felt disappointed because God chose a different path for you than you wanted? I have.
Have you ever felt angry because God allowed someone inferior to you to become your boss? I have.
I think everyone has felt jealous, disappointed, or angry at some time or another and yet I doubt any of us would have concluded we were calling God not very smart. Well, maybe I must confess I did realize it at the time—now that I think about it.
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Do you have a “Jesus’ spot”? A special chair or corner that you have designated for your quiet time, prayer, and Bible study? I do. I have a chair in my room with a small book shelf next to it. I have cups of pens and highlighters, several journals (each with their own purpose), my current Christian read (“The Signature of Jesus” for the 4th time,) and of course my Bible. It’s all very orderly. Maybe a better word is composed.
I think I have the same system in my spirit. There is a composed version of myself I present to God.
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I leaned my head against the window as the plane began to ascend.
How long will I have to fly alone? I thought to myself, as I pushed my head harder against the window and felt that familiar tinge of loneliness. Another long flight by myself. Another lonely night in a hotel room. Another weekend of ministering to women, yet still feeling the burden of doing it alone.
Even when you’re ministering to a room full of women, it can still feel lonely, and even overwhelming.
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