When was the last time you told someone your story? When was the last time you prayed about sharing your story? When was the last time you practiced the delivery of your story? Do those closest to you (friends, family, neighbors, co-workers) know what Christ has done for you personally? 

“How would you feel about the merger of First Church and Trinity?” One rarely knows what to expect when meeting a new district superintendent (DS). I certainly did not expect to hear that question during the very first meeting and meal with our newly arrived DS in the fall of 2012. While the question caught me off guard, my answer was almost immediate: “I think that should have happened about 10 years ago . . .

“I don’t smoke; I don’t chew; don’t hang out with folks who do.” This was a common saying while growing up—it describes my life before I was a Christian. I was raised in a Christian family, attended a conservative church, had friends who stayed out of trouble, and was known as a “goody-two-shoes” around school. You have likely heard testimonies from people about their past and the terrible sins they had committed before they became Christians.

In a church building in the heart of Monrovia, Liberia, a small group of women gathered over the course of a few days to talk about their hopes and those of the other women in their neighborhoods.

On September 12, 2012, I made the longest walk of an addict’s life—the walk from the parking lot into my first 12-step recovery meeting. I was 44, and I had a golden calf residing in my heart—alcohol. I was an ordained pastor who knew that God had placed a special calling upon my life but never fully realized it until I put to death an addiction that controlled my life.

In 1985, when Shepherd Community Center first began to offer hope and support for people trapped in the cycle of poverty, Google didn’t exist—neither did Amazon nor Facebook. Much has changed in the past 35 years as Shepherd Community has learned, adapted, and grown in serving its neighbors on the east side of Indianapolis. Yet much remains the same.

“God is on the Move” is the name of a song, yes, but for my wife, Terri, and me, it became an anthem. As the lead pastor at Connect Church in a small community of Northern Oklahoma, I’m glad I can tell this story.

Beyond a sliding metal gate is a basketball court, converted from its former life as a driveway. Past the basketball hoops is a new play structure, and to the right of both is a two-story brick house surrounded by brightly painted walls. Joshua,* 18, helped paint a horse on one of the walls, and Daniel, 14, painted a school of orange fish.