Happy Friday, everyone!
I’m still in the midst of re-entry from my stay in the West Bank, and I’m so thankful for your prayers and concern. Our team is especially grateful for your ongoing prayers for the conflict in the Holy Land. As I tell everyone who asks, it’s far more complicated than westerners can understand. There are good and not-so-good people on both sides of the conflict, so please be careful to pray for peace for BOTH sides. Also pray for changed hearts.
I’m breaking my online sabbatical to share a little piece of my personal story on a friend’s site. Some of you will remember that I gave away a book in my last post. The lovely Marcia Moston won a copy of Spiritual Misfit, my friend Michelle DeRusha’s first book.
(Michelle’s second book, 50 Women Every Christian Should Know, releases in September and I’ll be helping with that launch too!)
Michelle invited some of us to share our stories of how we felt like a misfit, and I’m honored she chose to post mine. I’m disabling commenting on this post so you can participate in the conversation over at Michelle’s. I’d be honored if you’d join us there.
Meanwhile, here’s a little snippet of my story:
I sat stock-still in the ornate Presbyterian sanctuary with my best friend Lisa. I gawked at the palm branch she shoved in my hand. “You’re supposed to wave it,” she whispered.
I’d spent my entire ten years of life in church, but never once waved a palm branch. I raised it high, following along and mentally piecing together the familiar Palm Sunday story. I turned my gaze from palm branches to stained glass windows to shiny organ pipes suspended above the platform. So this is the way everyone else does church, I mused.
I’m a preacher’s kid and, as a child, I knew that fact alone made me strange.
Click to read the rest of the story –> Awkward And Isolated No More