When Your Faith in Church Fails

After 25 years of attending the same church, I visited another one. I'll never forget the day I realized Bathsheba was not bathing on the roof. It was definitely not a cold and broken hallelujah that day. It was an epiphany, as all the dominoes started to fall into place. Bathsheba was right where she was supposed to be: cleansing after her monthly menstrual cycle; David was the one on the roof...

It’s not yours to carry

As I write this, I’m sitting in front of the altar in the sanctuary of my church—the church I attend and the church where I work. Twenty-four hours ago, I told a pastor and close friend that there are some days when I walk into this building I call home and feel like I can’t be here—shouldn’t be here. I’m too broken, too bruised, too shattered. But this is a sanctuary—a literal...