Get Moving

By Stephen Brownlow I was new to the desert and didn’t know what to expect, other than what I’d always heard: “It’s a dry heat.” I parked my car at the base of the mountain and looked over my supplies: backpack (check); copious amounts of water (check); sunscreen (check). I opened the car door and stepped onto the scorching-hot pavement. I thought the soles of my boots might melt before I reached the trail. The climb was hot—very hot. I paused in the shade of a saguaro cactus, an unexpected but welcome relief. I drank water though I wasn’t thirsty.

The Toilet Paper Ministry

By Tyler McKenzie and Adrienne Feldmann TYLER (11:55 p.m. Saturday): Here I was, a grown man, a pastor nonetheless, about to commit a felony. I coasted quietly down the neighborhood street, lights off, car in neutral, toilet paper in hand. It was essential I not get caught. ADRIENNE: I have always gone through seasons of depression. A few months ago it was especially frightening. I called in all kinds of reinforcements just to survive my day-to-day. I constantly fought off suicidal thoughts. Reaching out was difficult, but it was my last hope. I needed my friends. They were reluctant to

Models of Christian Womanhood

By Jacqueline J. Holness No one told me a queen was coming to Central Christian Church in southwest Atlanta, but that’s what seemed to be happening when a tall, carefully coiffed, gray-haired woman in a flowing pink dress sashayed by me and my friends escorted by her even taller, burly husband one Sunday morning during my childhood.  Who is that? I wondered as I eyed her from a back pew. As a preteen, I had begun paying keen attention to adults, other than my parents, who inhabited my world, which consisted primarily of church and school at that time. I

Listening on the Road

By S. J. Dahlman I met Peter a few weeks after arriving in Platt Bridge, then a down-at-heels village just outside Wigan, in northwest England. When we crossed paths one chilly March day and said hello, my accent caught him off guard. (Wigan wasn’t exactly a tourist town.) “Are you American?” he asked. “Yes,” I answered. “What brings you here, then?” I told him I was the new minister at the Church of Christ on Victoria Road. “Fancy that,” his wife chimed in. We introduced ourselves and stood chatting for a half hour. That was the beginning of an off-and-on

It’s God’s Kindness

By Vince Antonucci One time after a church service a lady bounced up to me and said, “Hey!” I said, “Hey!” “My name’s Sandy,” she said very quickly, “but not for long it isn’t. I’m changing it! It’s been a bad year for Sandys—Hurricane Sandy, Sandy Hook Elementary.” I nodded, a bit confused. “So, hey!” Sandy continued, “I just wanted to thank you for keeping it positive.” I asked what she meant. “I went to church a few times growing up, and I’ve gone a couple times as an adult, and I hate it. Hate it!” Sandy said. “You always

Rewritable

By Brian Jennings “Man, I don’t have any rewritable CDs. I don’t think anyone still has rewritable CDs.” My words failed to calm him down. De-escalation seemed impossible. He got louder and angrier. He took a step forward and I was thinking, It’s about to go down—right here, right now. Twenty minutes earlier I’d asked my friend, José, if he wanted to walk from our office to my favorite lunch spot in the neighborhood. I was in the mood for Korean food—I’m always in the mood for Korean food. About a half-mile of worn-out parking lots and side streets separated

Learning the Ministry of Receiving

By Daniel Schantz The best thing about teaching in a Christian college was that someone always needed me for something. “Professor, help! I need ideas! I’m teaching junior high boys in camp!” “Dan, you’re up for devotions in the faculty meeting tomorrow.” “Hey, Schantzy, you’re the car guy around here. . . . Is it normal for a transmission to smell like burnt pepperoni?” Now I have retired to a subdivision outside of town, where I have suddenly gone from being needed to being needy. The 10 families who live out here are rather independent. Only my wife needs me

Amazing Grace: How One Sunday in a Small, Dying Iowa Church Changed My Life

By Rick Chromey   “Amazing grace! How sweet the sound That saved a wretch like me.” I’ve been singing that hymn my whole life, yet never captured what it truly meant until one frigid Sunday morning. I was a student at Nebraska Christian College. For extra money, I’d occasionally preach for churches in need, and this particular weekend, I agreed to speak for a small church about two hours from school. It was a brutally cold Sunday. The tiny, white, clapboard and steepled church was miles from the nearest town, saddled by snowbanks, and guarded by Iowa cornfields. Only a

The Christmas Vision

By Daniel Schantz  I was a high school freshman in 1957 when the Russians stunned the world by launching Sputnik, the first artificial Earth satellite. I was living in the little town of Sabina, Ohio, where my father was minister of the church of Christ. My brother Tommy and I were like the rocket boys in the movie October Sky. After school we would stuff homemade propellant into cardboard tubes and fire our miniature missiles high into the air, where they would disappear, never to be found. But we wanted to go higher, farther into space, so one evening my

My Heart Pounds within Me

By Vince Antonucci When our kids were younger my wife and I took them to a big waterpark. Our son was 5 and our daughter was almost 3, so we spent the day in the kiddie pools. Each pool had slides and all kinds of fun stuff. We played in one for a while, then walked about 100 yards to a second kiddie pool where we let the kids splash around. We then walked another 100 yards to the next one, where my kids repeatedly slid down one big slide. My wife walked over to the other side of the

Blessing a Barn Quilt

By Benjamin Stroup The smell of cow was new for me. I grew up in a city, and life is altogether different here in Maysville, Kentucky (population: 10,000 people, 40,000 cows). As a child, on those rare occasions when we would drive by cows, everyone in the car would throw back their heads and “mooooo.” Now cows live in the field across from my house. It’s definitely not Cincinnati! Many days, the essence of cow manure wafts across the road and regales us. It’s not the sound of cows (or humans) mooing that’s unbearable . . . except for those

A Flickering Light

By Jacqueline J. Holness “I don’t know what to do,” she said, her voice nearly dissolving in muffled tears. The flow of cars surrounding me competed for my attention as I made my way into the confines of the city from the freedom of the expressway. A beat later, sniffles aside, she continued the phone call. “I can’t afford my children’s private school tuition anymore. I kept saying I would pay the bill, but now they won’t accept any more excuses. I’m trying to teach them at home, but I don’t know anything about homeschooling, plus I work. They’ve been

Whatever It Takes

By L. Mackenzie I gawked at the preacher, raised my eyebrows, and asked, “You want a what onstage for the sermon?” He calmly looked at me, fingers interlaced, and replied, “A scapegoat. Oh, and a Passover lamb before Easter. See what you can find.” What was I to do at T-minus-four weeks? What rancher would be willing to lend us valuable and tame animals for a live broadcast in front of 10,000 people? So many things could go terribly wrong: the goat could dive into the crowd, the lamb might pee on power cords; things could explode. Do we have

Love Is the End

By Tyler McKenzie   “If we never become Christians, will you still be our friends?” I was shocked by the question. Even a little angry. Did the last year of our friendship mean nothing? My wife, Lindsay, and I had met Joe and Amy at our church. We were leading a group for skeptics designed to answer tough questions. It was my favorite hour of the week (secretly, because their questions have always been mine). When I walked in, the two of them were huddled on a black leather couch we retired from the church lobby to one of the

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