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How To Take A Stand

In last week’s blog, we looked at what it means to stand for something – to believe in something so much that you’re willing to fall, even die, for it. This week, I’d like to follow that up by exploring how to take a stand. As we mentioned previously, taking a stand doesn’t necessarily mean shouting the other person down, or having a big fight. Not at all. You don’t have to be loud and aggressive to make a point. You can take a stand just as you are. Even the meek can take a stand that is powerfully gentle and sensitive, and yet have it make a difference. [Click title to read more]

Church

What Will You Fall For?

Within the first ten minutes of Broadway musical Hamilton, Alexander Hamilton hits Aaron Burr with a weighty question – “If you stand for nothing, Burr, what will you fall for?” So, in the opening paragraph of this blog post, I’m going to cut to the chase, and ask you the same question. If you stand for nothing, Christian friend, what will you fall for? [Click title to read more]

Personal

Warriors Not Worriers

I am a worrier. And I am an over-thinker. I’ve even been known to over-think about over-thinking. My mind, it seems, becomes most active at night. When I should be winding down to go to sleep, my mind starts to work overtime. I know for many my age, they are experiencing the same. If you’re older than me, I’m sure you’ll know better than I do, of worries that I am yet to experience. Could it be that by giving way to worry, we are adding unnecessary stress to our lives? That instead of being warriors for God, we are worriers? [Click title to read more]

Personal

Hope In The Waiting

I am in a period of waiting. I struggle to remember when I wasn’t waiting for something. You might be waiting too. Like me, you might be waiting for direction, for friendship, for the next step. But that next step never comes. You’re in as much confusion as you were yesterday, and absolutely none the wiser to what you’re supposed to do next. [Click title to read more]

Church

Be A Welcomer

It was a Sunday morning. We drove to the church that we had been to countless times before. We were greeted on the door by two lovely women with warm handshakes and genuine smiles as they welcomed us. The service started. We sang. We worshipped. We prayed. And then it was over, and the part of church I dread most began. [Click title to read more]