I grew up Christian, but as an adult, it can be very easy to struggle to find where I fit within the church. When I moved back to my hometown during the pandemic, I knew I needed to find my church community again. What I didn’t expect was how quickly one person could make me feel like I belonged. A wonderful leader and neighbor made a point of seeing me come to church every week. Even though my circumstances looked different from many of the people my age, he never made me feel out of place. He welcomed me exactly as… Read More
Unique Ministries
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Our mom and dad showed us Christ's love by helping others, no matter their situation. Our house was always busy since there were four kids. But we always seemed to have some people in our home who needed a helping hand. Early in their marriage, our parents chose to reach out to others and give them a second chance. They began by bringing kids from the local children's home to our house for Christmas. We certainly didn't have a great deal by the world's standards but we had a lot of love in our family. They gave these kids some presents… Read More
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One day, a young man approached our pastor, lonely and seeking connection. He wanted to start a young adult group and learn more about following Christ. A few days later, my pastor asked if I would lead it. I hesitated at first. Between my job, managing our small homestead, singing in the choir every Sunday, and serving as the parish hall manager, my plate was already full. But I also knew why he asked. Holding multiple roles at my parish gave me a front-row seat to the quiet hunger young people have for true, faith-filled community. I prayed over the decision for… Read More
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There was a season when words saved my life. During one of the darkest periods I’ve known, a stranger handed me a note. Just a few sentences, nothing dramatic, but it reminded me that God saw me when I felt invisible. I kept that note for years. Eventually, I felt called to start writing my own. Now, wherever I go, I leave small handwritten notes behind: in library books, grocery carts, waiting rooms, and coffee shop tables. I don’t sign my name. I don’t explain myself. The notes say things like: “You are not alone.” “God sees you.” “This moment won’t last forever.” I pray over every note… Read More
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After my wife passed away, the world felt unbearably quiet. She loved gardening more than anything: roses, daisies, tomatoes, even the stubborn little herbs that never cooperated. We used to tend them together on Saturday mornings, coffee cups in hand, talking about everything and nothing. When she was gone, I didn’t know what to do with my hands. Grief makes time slowdown in the cruelest way. Behind our church was a small plot of land no one really paid attention to. The weeds were winning, the soil was tired, and the place looked about how I felt. One morning, without really thinking, I grabbed her gardening… Read More
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I donate clothes to psychiatric hospitals and women’s crisis centers, not because I have extra money or an overflowing closet, but because I remember what it felt like to walk into a place like that with absolutely nothing. Years ago, when my life hit a breaking point, I found myself at a mental health facility. I was overwhelmed, terrified, and carrying more pain than I could make sense of. But the people there - the nurses, the counselors, the group leaders - treated me like a human being. They talked to me gently. They listened. They made me feel normal at… Read More






