"He stepped aside and tried to make a few calls. Hugging his daughter and grabbing his head, you could tell he was heartbroken. This woman next to him at the front counter heard the whole thing."
"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....
“My faith is everything to me... It's really like, ‘Oh no, this is real to me. I have experienced the presence of God and I know that this is my own faith.’”
"We don’t talk about the day she’ll go to her first dance, or get a driver’s license, or go to college. Or about her getting married, or becoming a mom, or what kind of home she wants to own."
“I have undergone a massive shift in regard to my faith in Jesus. The popular phrase for this is ‘deconstruction,’ the biblical phrase is ‘falling away.’"
Jesus whispers to our doubt and struggle, “I won’t rescue you because this kind of struggle leads to deep roots, community with others, and legacy of overcoming…”
It was that tense, harried persona that was the norm for a busy, chaotic life. My four-year-old had come up behind me quietly, and I didn’t even realize she was there until she spoke. “Just breathe, Mom.”
