They will, in fact, know us by our love
Lately I’ve been in that place again where I don’t think my faith can take another hit. I have not stopped believing in a Jesus who loves me. I have not stopped believing in a God that does in fact care about me, despite what my often cold, philosophical mind might try to have me believe. But every so often I get to a place where I just don’t think I can stand to call myself a Christian anymore. When the message that my friends hear all around them is one of intolerance and hatred, I have trouble associating myself with a belief system that has been polluted by venomous rhetoric. But every time something brings me back. This time, I was more aware of my struggle than normal. I knew what I was feeling, and I understood what caused it. And, in an effort to claw my way out my valley, I attempted to force my own reconciliation. I sent a cry of help to my pastors who responded with kindness and understanding. I wanted them to make me feel better. They did everything right, but it didn