The Lessons I Learned from My Pastor

I never dreamed of becoming a pastor as a child. My father owned several trucks, tractors, and a host of other machines, which helped his business thrive.  My childhood was filled with pretending to be old enough to use these machines and become just like my Dad.  As I became older, I envisioned myself working with large animals as a veterinarian, working alongside farmers providing care for their animals. However, my plans were interrupted by the gospel of Jesus.

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I’m Learning to Weep with Those Who Weep

George Floyd Tribute

I use words all the time.  My calling and my vocation demand the use of words.  I write, speak, and persuade, I offer encouragement, exhortation, challenge, and hopefully comfort with…words.  I have never lacked for words, and often I am more careless with my words than I will ever realize.  However, finding the words to talk about the tragic death of George Floyd and the hurt and pain my black brothers and sisters are experiencing have escaped me.  Maybe it’s because I haven’t fully processed the events of the past two weeks.  Maybe it’s because I have never had to deal with the topic of racism, justice, hurt, pain, and a host of other adjectives and emotions our nation is experiencing at the level I am experiencing now. I still don’t seem to have the words needed, and I don’t know what to say, but I want to begin to find those words.

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