I’m from Oregon City, outside Portland. Life was normal, going the usual route until this guy named Stan who was a Summit graduate married someone at my church. Whenever he was speaking, I noticed something different about him, so I finally approached him and said, “Hey, we should talk.”
My mother observed Lent and always wore all black to church on Good Friday. One time, shortly before we left the house, I asked her why.
“Today is kind of like remembering Jesus’ funeral. Of course, we know he’s alive and waiting for us in heaven, but first he had to die.”
Whether you’re settling in to watch Ten Commandments or Prince of Egypt with the family to kick off this pre-Easter weekend, the part of the story most likely to invoke questions among children or just generally inquisitive viewers is the angel of death and the Passover feast.
A few years ago, the Federal Department of Education found that 94 percent of teachers pay for classroom materials or students’ supplies out of their own pocket.
On average, these teachers spent around $480 with some footing a bill as large as $1,000 for school necessities.
As a child in Nigeria, I always saw poverty. Maybe 2% of the population is living with a ridiculous amount of money, and the other 98% are spinning their wheels and going in circles even though there is enough for everyone to have enough.
It’s just a fact of living there, though it shouldn’t have to be.
When people talk about aid or nonprofits, usually the discussion is aimed at foreign disaster relief, feeding malnourished children or medical aid for epidemics. Only rarely do people think of the United States as the recipient of aid programs.
These words from Paul have inspired a world-wide movement that wants to find how God changes and renews every part of life.
I come from east Macedonia, and I was raised up in a Christian family. All of my life, I’ve known who God is. I was baptized in the Holy Spirit when I was eleven and then baptized in water when I was fifteen.
Chauncey LaBrie serves at the Calvary Worship Center as the prison and inner-city outreach pastor.
Three years ago, a few friends and I decided to start a Bible study and call it Move of God, or MOG. We wanted it to be an invitation for others to get to know God.
I expected it to only be us at the beginning. I mean, after all, a lot of kids at my school knew me and knew who I’d been before I came to Christ.
