Letters from a Pastor’s Daughter

Dear pastors, elders, deacons, and ushers, Secretaries and choir directors, Awana leaders and Sunday School teachers, Sinners becoming saints gathered under the banner of Christendom; I am the girl sitting in the front pew, wearing thick leotards, a red corduroy skirt her Mum sewed, and a mushroom cut, and I’m staring out the stained glass

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Half-Hearted Builders

While the architects were planning and the builders were building, I’m sure neighbors wondered a few things. How did they know the bridge would stand? Who would be the first car to drive over hoping not to fall into the river? Why did they choose to make the pass there and not 10 feet over?

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