My small voice for His grand Kingdom.
If Jesus were physically standing in that building on Sunday morning, people would show up. They would crowd the hallways and overflow out the doors. Instead, they argue if church is still relevant. By my observations in this world, yes, it is.
My identity no longer lingers in the shadows of a victim or mentally ill and broken. What Satan hoped to imprison for life was surrendered and set free years ago by the blood of Jesus Christ.
he Bible spoke love, but I heard shame. I carried the secrets of my past as weights chained around my neck. Some days I was physically ill by the sinful nature I chose.
I no longer embrace change like I used to. A confession I wish I never had to make.
If we took a few moments to consider our words wisely, or to determine if our words are necessary at all, we would change things. Most importantly, we would change ourselves.
I kneel, I bow my head, I cherish this moment, in silence.
Jesus dwells were mental illness cannot go.
I stink at hospitality. I may be one of the worst. (Or, do I?)
"You don't drown by falling in the water; you drown by staying there." Please, never let a loved one stay there alone.