 Kelly Needham: Each season of dying has felt just like that—dying. The choking out of something I have loved, desired, and clung to for hope, peace, and safety. The choking out of things in me, writhing, gasping for breath and praying, “Does it have to be this way? Can’t I follow You and also keep this with me? Does it really need to die?”
To keep reading, click here.  Dan Allender recently released “Healing the Wounded Heart: The Heartache of Sexual Abuse and the Hope of Transformation”, the long-awaited sequel to “The Wounded Heart”, published more than 25 years ago. Part of what makes Allender’s work so successful is his seamless weaving of science with biblical principles. It’s not an either-or situation for Allender—science, biblical truths, and experience can all testify to the same end. In a culture inundated with accounts of sexual abuse, Allender’s advice for survivors is refreshing and surprisingly practical.
To continue reading this article, please click here.  “I believe in the resurrection of the body.” This is to believe in a permanent return to a physical existence in a physical universe—living forever with resurrected bodies alongside the resurrected Christ and resurrected people on a resurrected earth!
To continue reading the article, click here.  These three ghosts glide into staff meetings where key decisions are made. They hover in classrooms where theology is taught. They linger in prayer rooms where the weakest among us give voice to hurt. They strike fear into the hearts of both men and women, and worse, they breathe fear into the interactions between them. Their every intent is to cripple the ability of men and women to minister to and with one another.
Click here to continue reading the article. He approached at the close of the conference, after the crowds had dispersed and headed home.
Only a handful of us remained in the auditorium, tearing down booths and tables and book displays. Moments before, he’d heard me share a sliver of my complicated story. Cancer three times over. An inability to eat and speak normally. The months of treatment that took me to the brink of death. The years of physical trauma that assaulted body and mind with a suffering I didn’t know any human could endure. “I know you don’t really know me, but…” He seemed both unsure and determined. “Do you mind if I pray for you?” It wasn’t a hollow offering, not a passing “I’ll pray for you” muttered in the awkwardness of not knowing what to say. His question—his offer—was sincere. He wanted to pray for me. He needed to. And so I smiled and received the gift. But as he poured out his heart, as He pleaded with God to bring complete healing to my frail and broken body, as he begged the Almighty to restore the months and years I’d lost, I felt the tiniest stirring of rebellion deep within. To continue reading...click here. By Michele Cushatt
He approached at the close of the conference, after the crowds had dispersed and headed home. Only a handful of us remained in the auditorium, tearing down booths and tables and book displays. Moments before, he’d heard me share a sliver of my complicated story. Cancer three times over. An inability to eat and speak normally. The months of treatment that took me to the brink of death. The years of physical trauma that assaulted body and mind with a suffering I didn’t know any human could endure. “I know you don’t really know me, but…” He seemed both unsure and determined. “Do you mind if I pray for you?” It wasn’t a hollow offering, not a passing “I’ll pray for you” muttered in the awkwardness of not knowing what to say. His question—his offer—was sincere. He wanted to pray for me. He needed to. And so I smiled and received the gift. But as he poured out his heart, as He pleaded with God to bring complete healing to my frail and broken body, as he begged the Almighty to restore the months and years I’d lost, I felt the tiniest stirring of rebellion deep within. To continue reading... click here. |
Proudly powered by Weebly