As we near the new year, this is the time when I'm supposed to say that I'll start running everyday. The truth is, I'll do it for about a week and then remember how much I HATE RUNNING. I don't run outside because I don't like getting too hot, so when I do run I do it on a treadmill. When I'm done I always realize that I did a whole lot of work to not get anywhere. I end up tired, out of breath, and in pain.
Considering how much I hate to run, it's amazing to think how long I've been running in my own life. I have probably known since childhood that God had a different type of plan for me. As a teenager, it became more clear to me that certain traits and abilities were being placed in me for ministry. By the time I reached college age, I knew that God was calling me, and I made a conscious decision to run from Him. You see, when you are raised in the home of a minister you know better than to romanticize ministry. It's easy for an outsider to look at televangelists and pastors of mega churches and think it's all excitement and good income for one hour's work a week, but to someone who grew-up in it, it's not glamourous at all. I knew a household of 1 AM phone calls, interrupted vacations, random visitors at the house, countless hours in hospitals and funeral homes, hours of preparation for a 30 minute sermon that people would complain was too long, and two-faced church members. It was nothing I wanted to sign up for.
It was in 2011 that I realized that the God who created the heavens and the earth and everything on it and in it was the one who was pursuing me. There is no way that I can out run that kind of God. I realized that after years of running all I was was tired, out of breath, and in pain. Maybe I won't become famous or wealthy, in fact there may be a lot of lean years ahead depending on what He has for me, but I know that there are a lot of people in million dollar homes who can't sleep at night because they can't escape what the Lord has called them to.
Maybe you aren't running from a calling at all. Maybe as you read this you are running from God's love. Maybe He has been drawing you to Him for sometime and you have resisted because you think you can do it on your own or because you don't think you deserve Him. As we end this year, evaluate what you've been doing and ask yourself if you are better off now than you were a year ago. Are you tired of running yet? Aren't you ready to rest? Stop in your tracks. Turn around. The God who holds the stars where they belong and tells the ocean how far it can come is pursuing you with His love. You can't out run Him, so it's time to stop trying.
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Thursday, December 29, 2011
My Grandfather By Choice
As I near the end of 2011, I have reflected on some of the events, good and bad, that have shaped my life in this year. The following occurred in March and changed me forever.
Some people teach us by the way they live, but some teach us by the way they die. One such person was the man I called Papaw Weakley. He wasn't my grandfather by blood, but rather by choice. You see when I was very young, my family moved to east Tennessee where my father began pastoring a church. This meant that at a young age, I moved away from both sets of grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. Within three years of moving to Tennessee both of my father's parents passed away. It was in this time that Bishop Eugene Weakley, then state overseer of Tennessee, and his wife stepped in and became the grandparents I did not have. For as long as I can remember I have called him my Papaw and her my Mamaw. Even now, at 25, I refer to them as my grandparents.
Some time ago, he was diagnosed with cancer, but with treatment he had remained in good health. Towards the beginning of the year, the doctors discovered that his cancer had returned and had spread throughout his body. He was given no hope and a hospital bed was brought into his home to make him as comfortable as possible. In the last few weeks of his life, my parents and I made countless hour long journeys to be with my Papaw, Mamaw, and the rest of my adopted family. I will never forget those last few days with him, because they taught me so much.
Even though he was given no hope, he always spoke of God's faithfulness. Even though his body was destroyed by disease, we would spend time in prayer together thanking God for His goodness. When we first learned of the severity of his illness, my father was in Panama preaching. When he was able to return, my mother and I picked him up at the airport and headed straight for the Weakley's home. The only thing my Papaw wanted to discuss was what dad saw in Panama. He begged my father to tell him more about the revival he saw amongst the young people in central and south America. I watched as he had the young ministers in the room gather around and hear what God was doing. I watched as he wept and told my Mamaw how wonderful it would be to see such a move of God.
In his last days I saw the value of having a companion with a like heart towards ministry. Mamaw Weakley was fiercely protective of that man. She loved him the way she loves everyone, extravagantly. They would talk for hours about their travels ministering and about how good God, and the people of Tennessee, had been to them. I watched as she just wanted to be by his side at all times. I saw exactly the kind of marriage I would hope to have; in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, 'til death do them part.
The final time I got to tell him goodbye while he was still able to communicate well I will never forget. We ended our time in prayer, as always, and then I hugged him goodbye and told him "I love you, Papaw". In that moment he looked at me and said "I know that God has something special planned for your life." I will never forget those words as long as I live and I hope I always make him proud.
Some people teach us by the way they live, but some teach us by the way they die. One such person was the man I called Papaw Weakley. He wasn't my grandfather by blood, but rather by choice. You see when I was very young, my family moved to east Tennessee where my father began pastoring a church. This meant that at a young age, I moved away from both sets of grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. Within three years of moving to Tennessee both of my father's parents passed away. It was in this time that Bishop Eugene Weakley, then state overseer of Tennessee, and his wife stepped in and became the grandparents I did not have. For as long as I can remember I have called him my Papaw and her my Mamaw. Even now, at 25, I refer to them as my grandparents.
Some time ago, he was diagnosed with cancer, but with treatment he had remained in good health. Towards the beginning of the year, the doctors discovered that his cancer had returned and had spread throughout his body. He was given no hope and a hospital bed was brought into his home to make him as comfortable as possible. In the last few weeks of his life, my parents and I made countless hour long journeys to be with my Papaw, Mamaw, and the rest of my adopted family. I will never forget those last few days with him, because they taught me so much.
Even though he was given no hope, he always spoke of God's faithfulness. Even though his body was destroyed by disease, we would spend time in prayer together thanking God for His goodness. When we first learned of the severity of his illness, my father was in Panama preaching. When he was able to return, my mother and I picked him up at the airport and headed straight for the Weakley's home. The only thing my Papaw wanted to discuss was what dad saw in Panama. He begged my father to tell him more about the revival he saw amongst the young people in central and south America. I watched as he had the young ministers in the room gather around and hear what God was doing. I watched as he wept and told my Mamaw how wonderful it would be to see such a move of God.
In his last days I saw the value of having a companion with a like heart towards ministry. Mamaw Weakley was fiercely protective of that man. She loved him the way she loves everyone, extravagantly. They would talk for hours about their travels ministering and about how good God, and the people of Tennessee, had been to them. I watched as she just wanted to be by his side at all times. I saw exactly the kind of marriage I would hope to have; in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, 'til death do them part.
The final time I got to tell him goodbye while he was still able to communicate well I will never forget. We ended our time in prayer, as always, and then I hugged him goodbye and told him "I love you, Papaw". In that moment he looked at me and said "I know that God has something special planned for your life." I will never forget those words as long as I live and I hope I always make him proud.
Sunday, December 25, 2011
What Kind of Family Are We?
I am 25 years old and my mother still corrects me quite often. If I do something that doesn't look right or could be taken in a less than flattering way she lets me know very quickly. After living a quarter of a century she still worries about my reputation. The reason she still cares about such things is that I am a reflection on her. Even though I'm an adult she knows that I will always be a McKinley no matter what. My decisions, whether made at 10, 15, 25, or 50 years old, will be traced back to the way she raised me. She takes ownership for who I am, and that is why she doesn't hesitate to lovingly correct me when I am wrong. It is also the reason that she has always tried to be an example of Godliness in my life. She lived by example the kind of life she wanted me to lead.
What if this was the way we approached our relationships in the church? As a young woman, I can only name a few people in my entire life who were an example of Godliness for me. I can think back on times where adults in church criticized young people for the way the dressed or acted or talked, but I can't really remember too many times where they took on the role of mentor and lovingly corrected the young people as a concerned parent would. What if we began to look at the young people in our churches the way my mother looks at me? What if we realized that they are a reflection on us? I don't mean that to say that we have to be unnecessarily harsh on them because they may make us look bad, I mean that we need to take ownership in the type of people they become. How many baby dedications have we sat through vowing to help bring the child up in the ways of the Lord, and then we sit back and criticize who they become?
If we are to be the family of God, then we have a lot of work to do. Where are the grandmothers who provide unconditional love? Where are the fathers and mothers who offer loving correction? Where are the aunts and uncles to give a hand when one is needed? I know it seems that I'm picking on the adults of the church, but that is not my intent. My intention is to point out that if we really intend on filling our churches with lost people then we have to be prepared for people who really don't know how to behave in a church setting and probably don't know how to act even after they have come to the Lord. When our churches are flooded with (physically AND spiritually) young people, we have to be the family they need and offer love and support.
I know this is an odd blog for Christmas day, but I can't help but think about family during the holidays.
The truth is that if we were to judge all Christians on some churches we see we would be left with the notion that it is a some what dysfunctional family. We find people who only deal with each other during times of crisis and even then their speech is harsh towards one another. We often find back stabbing and fighting. We find men and women who put their needs and wants and desires to be seen above what is best for the family. Mind you, most churches are not like this. Most Christians are not like this, but at the end of this year I invite you to examine yourself and ask what kind of family member were you this year? Did you reach out to your brothers and sisters at all times? Were you loving and honest with fellow Christians? Did you put what was best for the church at the top of your priority list? Please join me in prayer for this next year that we would become the family God intended us to be.
What if this was the way we approached our relationships in the church? As a young woman, I can only name a few people in my entire life who were an example of Godliness for me. I can think back on times where adults in church criticized young people for the way the dressed or acted or talked, but I can't really remember too many times where they took on the role of mentor and lovingly corrected the young people as a concerned parent would. What if we began to look at the young people in our churches the way my mother looks at me? What if we realized that they are a reflection on us? I don't mean that to say that we have to be unnecessarily harsh on them because they may make us look bad, I mean that we need to take ownership in the type of people they become. How many baby dedications have we sat through vowing to help bring the child up in the ways of the Lord, and then we sit back and criticize who they become?
If we are to be the family of God, then we have a lot of work to do. Where are the grandmothers who provide unconditional love? Where are the fathers and mothers who offer loving correction? Where are the aunts and uncles to give a hand when one is needed? I know it seems that I'm picking on the adults of the church, but that is not my intent. My intention is to point out that if we really intend on filling our churches with lost people then we have to be prepared for people who really don't know how to behave in a church setting and probably don't know how to act even after they have come to the Lord. When our churches are flooded with (physically AND spiritually) young people, we have to be the family they need and offer love and support.
I know this is an odd blog for Christmas day, but I can't help but think about family during the holidays.
The truth is that if we were to judge all Christians on some churches we see we would be left with the notion that it is a some what dysfunctional family. We find people who only deal with each other during times of crisis and even then their speech is harsh towards one another. We often find back stabbing and fighting. We find men and women who put their needs and wants and desires to be seen above what is best for the family. Mind you, most churches are not like this. Most Christians are not like this, but at the end of this year I invite you to examine yourself and ask what kind of family member were you this year? Did you reach out to your brothers and sisters at all times? Were you loving and honest with fellow Christians? Did you put what was best for the church at the top of your priority list? Please join me in prayer for this next year that we would become the family God intended us to be.
Thursday, December 15, 2011
My Holy Night
My favorite Christmas song of all time is O Holy Night. There are two outstanding truths that are found in the song. The first states, "Long lay the world in sin and error pining/"Til He appeared and the soul felt its worth". The second tells us "Chains shall He break for the slave is our brother/And in His name all oppression shall cease" signifying that Jesus came to free the oppressed. To understand why these lyrics are so important, we have to examine what it is for a night to be holy. To be holy is to be different, set apart, unlike any other. This night of Jesus's birth was a night unlike any other night in history. It was different because it was on this night that hope, love, and real life were born. This night was set apart because the only one who could give our souls meaning and free us from the sins that bind us was born.
Just as the song tells of a night that was unlike any other for mankind, I have had a night in my life which I would call "Holy." I call the night holy because it was a night that was made different from any other because God made His presence known. It wasn't holy or different because I had done anything great, it was holy because I was at the end of my rope. I found myself in a place of hopelessness. I felt absolutely worthless. I was in a place where I felt that I had been abandoned by someone I loved and even worse, I blamed myself for it. I had spiraled into a sadness I couldn't shake and felt that there was nothing I could do to fix it. All I wanted to do was sleep and yet sleep would not come because my mind was running out of control.
After weeks of feeling sorry for myself, I found myself one Saturday evening lying on my bathroom floor, with my stomach in knots asking God why I had to go on living in such a state of helplessness.
I had been brought to this place by a series of events that I may or may not ever share, but what is important is that my faith was shattered and I was empty, but in His loving kindness, God appeared to me. Did I literally see God? No, but He made His presence known in a real way. In that moment of sickness, God began to bring to my mind all the times He had spared me. My parents were told when my mom was pregnant with me that I wouldn't make it, but I did. There were the moments in school when I was bullied and tortured and wanted to give up on my trust in God, but I survived. And there was the incident just weeks prior to that holy night when God kept His hand on me in the middle of a serious car wreck. He spoke to my heart and reminded me that He had kept me here for a reason that I hadn't seen yet. In that moment, like the Prodigal son, I "came to my senses". I got up, looked in the mirror and saw how ridiculous I looked, and started the process of moving on. He broke the oppression that was on me, and suddenly I could see the light again.
What does this have to with the song or even Christmas for that matter? I was bound in chains that I couldn't break free of until God made His presence known to me one night that I will forever consider "holy" because it was a night unlike any other. During this Christmas season, I implore you to stop focusing on the shopping and the food and the music and the lights and settle for just a moment and reflect on your holy night. As we celebrate the birth of our savior, take the time to remember the moment when you felt Him speak to you. Remember the instant when He filled your heart so completely, that you knew things would be different. If you don't know Him in that real way, I invite you open your heart to what He has for you. God has a purpose for your life. Your soul has worth, your life has value. He came for you. If you call on His name, He will break the chains that surround you. In His name ALL oppression shall cease.
Just as the song tells of a night that was unlike any other for mankind, I have had a night in my life which I would call "Holy." I call the night holy because it was a night that was made different from any other because God made His presence known. It wasn't holy or different because I had done anything great, it was holy because I was at the end of my rope. I found myself in a place of hopelessness. I felt absolutely worthless. I was in a place where I felt that I had been abandoned by someone I loved and even worse, I blamed myself for it. I had spiraled into a sadness I couldn't shake and felt that there was nothing I could do to fix it. All I wanted to do was sleep and yet sleep would not come because my mind was running out of control.
After weeks of feeling sorry for myself, I found myself one Saturday evening lying on my bathroom floor, with my stomach in knots asking God why I had to go on living in such a state of helplessness.
I had been brought to this place by a series of events that I may or may not ever share, but what is important is that my faith was shattered and I was empty, but in His loving kindness, God appeared to me. Did I literally see God? No, but He made His presence known in a real way. In that moment of sickness, God began to bring to my mind all the times He had spared me. My parents were told when my mom was pregnant with me that I wouldn't make it, but I did. There were the moments in school when I was bullied and tortured and wanted to give up on my trust in God, but I survived. And there was the incident just weeks prior to that holy night when God kept His hand on me in the middle of a serious car wreck. He spoke to my heart and reminded me that He had kept me here for a reason that I hadn't seen yet. In that moment, like the Prodigal son, I "came to my senses". I got up, looked in the mirror and saw how ridiculous I looked, and started the process of moving on. He broke the oppression that was on me, and suddenly I could see the light again.
What does this have to with the song or even Christmas for that matter? I was bound in chains that I couldn't break free of until God made His presence known to me one night that I will forever consider "holy" because it was a night unlike any other. During this Christmas season, I implore you to stop focusing on the shopping and the food and the music and the lights and settle for just a moment and reflect on your holy night. As we celebrate the birth of our savior, take the time to remember the moment when you felt Him speak to you. Remember the instant when He filled your heart so completely, that you knew things would be different. If you don't know Him in that real way, I invite you open your heart to what He has for you. God has a purpose for your life. Your soul has worth, your life has value. He came for you. If you call on His name, He will break the chains that surround you. In His name ALL oppression shall cease.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
I Want To Do Small Things For God
Over the years I have heard many testimonies given by people who feel God doing a work in their life. They will speak about how God is moving in them and how they are going to be obedient to what He has for them to do. Many of these testimonies at some point involve the words "I want to do BIG things for God." Now, I'm not discrediting the sentiment of wanting to tell as many people about Him as possible, but I want to bring attention to the motives of the speaker. When they envision this concept of ministry do they picture arenas filled with people waiting to hear them preach or do they picture a life of servant hood? It's easy to be obedient to God's word if you believe it will make you well-known, famous, and wealthy, it's harder to be obedient when you know it requires taking up your towel and serving those who are in need.
I have often heard ministers talk about their travels in ministry and by the time they have finished giving the Citizen Kane version of their life story they have given an account filled with "I's" and "me's". They start off talking about doing "big things for God" and then it spirals into "I preached to thousands...I went on 50 mission trips...I laid hands on people and they were healed" and by the time they are done the only big thing about their story is their ego.
The truth is that people who are hungry are not impressed by how many trips overseas you have taken. People whose homes are broken don't care how many stadiums you have filled. Parents whose children are away from God don't care how many thousands you have preached to. It is in the small, mundane details that people are touched. I want to do small things for God that make a lasting impact on the recipient. I want to be the person who shows kindness to people who are in distress. I want to offer support for the ones who have lost their way. I want to offer love to those who have been abandoned. I want to do small things for God.
I have often heard ministers talk about their travels in ministry and by the time they have finished giving the Citizen Kane version of their life story they have given an account filled with "I's" and "me's". They start off talking about doing "big things for God" and then it spirals into "I preached to thousands...I went on 50 mission trips...I laid hands on people and they were healed" and by the time they are done the only big thing about their story is their ego.
The truth is that people who are hungry are not impressed by how many trips overseas you have taken. People whose homes are broken don't care how many stadiums you have filled. Parents whose children are away from God don't care how many thousands you have preached to. It is in the small, mundane details that people are touched. I want to do small things for God that make a lasting impact on the recipient. I want to be the person who shows kindness to people who are in distress. I want to offer support for the ones who have lost their way. I want to offer love to those who have been abandoned. I want to do small things for God.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
You are a masterpiece, not a sketch drawing
Did you know that it took Leonardo DaVinci 4 years to paint the Mona Lisa? 4 years for a 30" by 21" painting. Imagine what it would have been like to see the painting and the end of the second year? Just a few strokes here and there. You may have wondered if DaVinci even knew what he was doing, but he completed his work and now over 500 years later, it is considered one of the greatest masterpieces of all time.
In this past year, I have learned to respect the sovereignty of God. He has supreme power. He is the ruler over everything. Nothing happens without Him allowing it to. Understanding God's sovereignty does not mean that you will understand everything that happens in your life, but it allows you to trust that He knows best.
So what does this have to do with the Mona Lisa? God is the master painter. If you want proof just look at the world around you. Look at the oceans and the stars and mountains. His beauty is all around us. In the same way He created the galaxies, He is creating a masterpiece in you. There have been many times in my life when I couldn't figure out what God was doing in me. I questioned why He allowed certain things to happen and why He couldn't just give me what I prayed for. I even wondered at times if He knew what He was doing. But the bible tells us that everyday of our lives were written in His book before we lived the first one. He sees what the finished picture will be, when all we can see is a stroke of paint here or there. Every break up, bread down, broken heart, and broken dream are all just strokes of His brush on the painting He is creating in your life.
We grow tired of not understanding His plan and how everything will work together. But here is the incredible truth that you need to remind yourself of everyday; God loves you too much to make your life a sketch drawing, He is taking His time to create a masterpiece in you. He is not going to rush just because we want things to happen our way, right now. He created the heavens and the earth and everything on it in just 6 days, think how much more he must love you if He is spending this much time on the painting of your life.
God is sovereign. He is in control. He sees the painting, when all we can see are a few strokes of His brush. It may not make sense to us, but it doesn't have to. He works all things together for the good of those that love Him. All we have to do is relax and let Him create His masterpiece in us.
In this past year, I have learned to respect the sovereignty of God. He has supreme power. He is the ruler over everything. Nothing happens without Him allowing it to. Understanding God's sovereignty does not mean that you will understand everything that happens in your life, but it allows you to trust that He knows best.
So what does this have to do with the Mona Lisa? God is the master painter. If you want proof just look at the world around you. Look at the oceans and the stars and mountains. His beauty is all around us. In the same way He created the galaxies, He is creating a masterpiece in you. There have been many times in my life when I couldn't figure out what God was doing in me. I questioned why He allowed certain things to happen and why He couldn't just give me what I prayed for. I even wondered at times if He knew what He was doing. But the bible tells us that everyday of our lives were written in His book before we lived the first one. He sees what the finished picture will be, when all we can see is a stroke of paint here or there. Every break up, bread down, broken heart, and broken dream are all just strokes of His brush on the painting He is creating in your life.
We grow tired of not understanding His plan and how everything will work together. But here is the incredible truth that you need to remind yourself of everyday; God loves you too much to make your life a sketch drawing, He is taking His time to create a masterpiece in you. He is not going to rush just because we want things to happen our way, right now. He created the heavens and the earth and everything on it in just 6 days, think how much more he must love you if He is spending this much time on the painting of your life.
God is sovereign. He is in control. He sees the painting, when all we can see are a few strokes of His brush. It may not make sense to us, but it doesn't have to. He works all things together for the good of those that love Him. All we have to do is relax and let Him create His masterpiece in us.
Sunday, December 4, 2011
When did God's house become a coffee house?
I work full-time and go to school, so in the recent year coffee has become my friend. As I have visited my favorite shop I have noticed a few things. When I look around at the people who patronize this shop I find that some come to be re-energized, some come because it makes them feel special (because anyone holding a $5 cup of coffee must be important), and some come because it is a place to meet with friends and relax. This particular chain is special because they emphasize customer service through specialization and building relationships. Employees strive to know repeat customer's names and drink preferences. The reason they focus on customer service is simple. They know that we know that if we don't like the service we get, we can go half a mile down the road and find another store within the same company. If we are really disatisfied we can go across the street and start a relationship with a new chain altogether. My shop better know exactly how much foam I want in my macchiato or I'm taking my ball and going home.
This is Sunday morning and churches all over America will be serving coffee before church. I know it seems like I'm about to rant about this practice, but just hear me out. I have had this nagging feeling in my stomach for at least 2 months about the connection I see between church and the coffee house. Are you attending church for the same reason people frequent my coffee house? Do you attend because after a week in which you made no effort to see God on your own you need a boost or re-energizing from the pastor? Do you attend church to make yourself feel important (because you must be important if you go to the church with the best lights and sound and the highest steeple)? Or do you attend because it is a place to catch up with friends? Of course there is nothing wrong with fellowship, but the problem with turning church into a social club is that it's only good for the people important enough to be a member. How many people are living dreadful empty lives while we "hangout" at church and sip our coffee and discuss our "good church people problems"?
And now the biggest similarity that no one wants to admit. Most people who attend church know that if they become unhappy they can go a mile down the road to another, and in some cases just as with the coffee shop, they can find a church in the same denomination that will cater to their needs. "I left that coffee house because they didn't give me the right amount of foam" translates into "I left that church because they didn't play the new music that I like". We make threats that if things don't go our way or if we don't get the attention we think we deserve we will go elsewhere.
Jesus sacrificed His life for so much more than what we have made the church. God forgive us for turning our churches into social clubs for the elite to meet in. Forgive us for our attitude that says that if we aren't catered to then we will go church to church until we find the one that satisfies our every want. Help us to see what You intend the church to be, and give us the grace to become that church.
This is Sunday morning and churches all over America will be serving coffee before church. I know it seems like I'm about to rant about this practice, but just hear me out. I have had this nagging feeling in my stomach for at least 2 months about the connection I see between church and the coffee house. Are you attending church for the same reason people frequent my coffee house? Do you attend because after a week in which you made no effort to see God on your own you need a boost or re-energizing from the pastor? Do you attend church to make yourself feel important (because you must be important if you go to the church with the best lights and sound and the highest steeple)? Or do you attend because it is a place to catch up with friends? Of course there is nothing wrong with fellowship, but the problem with turning church into a social club is that it's only good for the people important enough to be a member. How many people are living dreadful empty lives while we "hangout" at church and sip our coffee and discuss our "good church people problems"?
And now the biggest similarity that no one wants to admit. Most people who attend church know that if they become unhappy they can go a mile down the road to another, and in some cases just as with the coffee shop, they can find a church in the same denomination that will cater to their needs. "I left that coffee house because they didn't give me the right amount of foam" translates into "I left that church because they didn't play the new music that I like". We make threats that if things don't go our way or if we don't get the attention we think we deserve we will go elsewhere.
Jesus sacrificed His life for so much more than what we have made the church. God forgive us for turning our churches into social clubs for the elite to meet in. Forgive us for our attitude that says that if we aren't catered to then we will go church to church until we find the one that satisfies our every want. Help us to see what You intend the church to be, and give us the grace to become that church.
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