"You heard me tell her we had a long drive home and she needed to use the potty. You heard her tell me she was scared the toilet would flush while she was sitting on it."
"I could feel hot, salty tears coming down my face. I sat and cried silently... I was scrunching myself up against the wall as far as I could. All of a sudden, someone from behind us taps on the guy’s shoulder..."
In churches across America, a quiet but consequential conversation is unfolding. It often begins with a question—sometimes whispered, sometimes posted publicly on social media....
"It’s not a matter of how I feel about it coming out intact, but I got to worry about my staff, and people’s feelings about it coming out looking like a baby.”
"I’d never received a suicide text before. I had to read it multiple times before I understood all the words. In the message, he apologized for being a bad leader and then told me how to help the church survive."
There are so many things I know now that I wish I knew then—so many things that would have spared me heartache, grief and straight-up saved me time! I spent so much time dreaming, worrying and thinking about things that would never actually happen.
