Tag Archive for: Story

Every Story is God’s Story

Why do we tell stories?

Not we as in Clear Creek Community Church, but we as in all of us.

What is it about books, TV shows, movies, and even the short glimpses into other people’s lives on social media that make them so pervasive in our culture?

Is it purely entertainment? Are we so fascinated that we simply cannot look away? Or is there something more?

Whether it’s an action movie, a romance novel, or a car commercial, there’s always something bigger going on than a gunfight, a kiss, or a sleek SUV driving down a scenic road. Maybe it’s a reminder that the good guys ultimately win, or that love always prevails, or maybe it’s that this particular car will help you live the life you’ve always wanted (whether or not that’s true).

Stories communicate information in a way that’s meaningful and memorable.

Stepping into another world through a book or movie or commercial allows us to learn something new like the grit of the human spirit, or learn to appreciate something more deeply like the beauty of falling in love, all while being emotionally invested in the characters involved, and leaning in to see what happens next.

That’s why stories are powerful.

They’re how we express complicated ideas and fit the pieces together.

Because deep down, we all want to more fully understand… everything.






The opposite sex.


Jesus Christ knew the power of story better than maybe anyone else in history.

He had this stunning skill of harnessing stories (called parables in the Bible) to teach the ways of God. Through stories like the Prodigal Son, the Four Soils, and the Good Samaritan, Jesus was able to communicate truth about who God is and how he relates to his people in a meaningful and memorable way.

But it wasn’t just his teaching style that employed story. God through the person of Jesus Christ, created the greatest plot twist of all time when he, the author himself, descended into the pages of his narrative.

He introduced himself and revealed who he is and what he’s about in the grand story we call the Bible. And he’s placed us as characters — each of us with our own arc and journey — into this epic work.

Let me just say, JK Rowling, Stephen King, and even William Shakespeare, can’t hold a candle to the storytelling genius of God.

His power and creativity know no bounds.

He is the Great Author.

And he has written the story of the world — its creation, fall, redemption, and restoration (yes, he already wrote the ending).

So, if stories communicate information, what is God communicating?

If there’s one overarching message to his story it’s this: he loves you.

He loves you so much that he would woo you with the entire story of everything we know centering around a grand gesture of sacrifice and grace on your behalf.

So, we come to church and we learn more about the story and its author. We sing songs about the story. We read about the story and we meditate on its implications.

We call all of that worship.

When we talk about the things he’s done, the ways he’s saved people, changed people, healed people, and loved people, we are singing his praise.

One generation shall commend your works to another, and shall declare your mighty acts. On the glorious splendor of your majesty, and on your wondrous works I will meditate. They shall speak of the might of your awesome deeds, and I will declare your greatness. — Psalm 145:4-6

Forgiving Myself

As I lie awake in my bed after everyone else in my house has gone to sleep, my mind replays my failings like a horrifying highlight reel.

How I lost my temper with my children again.

The impatience threaded through a conversation with a friend.

The devastation on my husband’s face when my sharp words cut him down.

My grief over what I’ve done blossoms into shame, convincing me that change is impossible. The shame is amplified by bitterness, and before I know it, I have welcomed dangerous lies and doubted the gospel. My head may nod enthusiastically over Jesus’s words to forgive my offender seventy times seven, but what about when the offender is me?

I don’t think I’m alone. Longtime followers of Christ are intimately familiar with the command to forgive. But when the struggle is internal, maybe you, like me, consider it almost virtuous to punish yourself harshly and deny yourself any eligibility for grace.

Why is it so hard to forgive ourselves?

In my years-long internal battle with self-resentment, I’ve identified three major obstacles along the way:

1. Pride

As a natural people-pleaser, I appreciate high standards and the accolades thrown my way when I’ve reached them. It feels good to pretend I can be righteous and good — until it doesn’t work. Pride can make me delusional about my own propensity to sin. Pride strives to patch over mistakes, pretending they never happened. Pride tells me I should’ve done better — tried harder. But Scripture says that I can’t work hard enough, that I can’t achieve perfection on my own. God isn’t surprised or shaken at my unholiness. He knows all his children need discipline and training. Instead of burying my sin deep enough to maintain my image, humbly admitting my sin before the Lord is the first step toward forgiving myself.

2. Doubt

In the Garden of Eden, we see the serpent’s first tactic as he sweet-talked Eve and Adam, weaving threads of doubt into their view of God. The Enemy is always the first to remind me of my moral failures and the first to suggest that God might not be who I’ve believed him to be. He whispers lies that tell me God didn’t really make me righteous, I can’t really be loved enough, God doesn’t really keep his promise to forgive. But we can learn to discern his hissing amidst our thoughts. Just as Jesus used Scripture to combat all of Satan’s lies in the desert, our only defense is to plant ourselves in the Bible and stand firm on God’s promises.

3. Shame

If I allow pride and doubt to fester in me, they will swing wide the door for shame. When fear of exposure controls me and God’s love seems distant, I begin to believe that there is no escape from my sin. Shame wraps its victim in the label of their wrongs. It distracts me from God’s presence, disrupts my relationships, and discourages my efforts toward spiritual maturity. But the truth of my identity in Christ can overcome the trap of shame. I love the lyrics to the song “You Are More” by Tenth Avenue North:

You are more than the choices that you made,

you are more than the sum of your past mistakes,

you are more than the problems you create,

you’ve been remade.

Because Christ has made us new creations, we are not defined by our sins. I have victory over shame because I am a child of God, a recipient of his great mercy without earning any of it, and my sin was nailed to the cross.

And you, who were dead in your trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh, God made alive together with him, having forgiven us all our trespasses by canceling the record of debt that stood against us with its legal demands. This he set aside, nailing it to the cross.

Colossians 2:13-14

I don’t have to keep looking back on my past sins. I don’t have to be anxious about future struggles. Freedom from shame’s snare allows me to be honest about my failures before the Lord. I don’t have to hide or justify my sin, instead humbly approaching him for forgiveness. And when we ask God to forgive us, we can be sure that he does and that his forgiveness is final.

In his death and resurrection, Jesus conquered the entirety of sin. When we are forgiven, our sin no longer hangs over us. Our souls don’t wallow in a place of guilt, for he has defeated pride, doubt, and shame. What a gift! What love! Why would we continue to carry the burden of blame when God has removed all blame from us?

When I rehearse the truth that I am a child of God, his beloved treasure for whom he died, then my heart can confess my failures to my Father, trust his promises, and rest in his grace.


If you’ve ever experienced a power outage at your house then you know one of the craziest things about losing power is the realization of how dependent we are on electricity for everything. Not the least of which is light. It’s not until the power goes out that you realize how dark the darkness is. The lights go out, and there you are standing in a dark room barely able to see in front of you until something — an iPhone flashlight, a candle, a fireplace — provides at least a small amount of light to bring vision and clarity to the darkness.

Back in March of 2020, just as the world was beginning to shut down due to the worldwide explosion of COVID-19, my wife and I received some news. Our 5-year-old son, Maverick, full of life, light, and imaginative creativity had been having some serious headaches. These headaches were hitting him up to three times per day and dampening his ability to live his life the way a kid should.

So, just to rule out any potential for something serious, we took him to get an MRI. Migraines run in my wife’s family, so we were certain he was having cluster headaches.

However, this phone call from the imaging department at Texas Children’s Hospital informed us of a massive cyst on our little boy’s brain. It was causing pressure and pain to his ventricles and it was the sources of his often debilitating headaches.

For my wife and I, the lights went out. It went dark. Our little boy would most likely need brain surgery.

I still remember getting that phone call. I dropped what I was doing and ran into my son’s room. I sprawled out face down on his bedroom floor and just began to cry out to God. There’s not much to say in those moments; just a desperate combination of “why’s?” and pleas.

How could this happen?

What would happen?

Why would God allow this?

What would God do next?

The next few weeks went by slowly as we anxiously awaited the course of action. Sure enough, the surgeon wanted to operate as soon as possible. We were terrified. Anxiety, fear, depression, and every other emotion of that kind flooded through us like a rising tide. Our two younger girls  both had majorly concerning health issues either in the womb or in the first few days of their lives, but Maverick was supposed to be our healthy kid. He was our easy kid, and he was the light of our lives.

We honestly didn’t know what to do, and we were paralyzed with the fear of what the future might hold.

We begged God for grace.

We confessed our fear to him, acknowledged our doubts, and cried out for his protection over our little boy.

Just when it seemed darkest, a prayer, an encouraging word, or a meal from a friend would shine a light in the darkness. Over the next few weeks our lives were flooded with the light of these gifts from our family and friends reaching out to us.

The blackout was being illuminated.

Don’t get me wrong, it was still dark. Our power had gone out of us. But we could see a few steps in front of us, we could see each other’s faces, and even though there was an isolating, global pandemic raging across our planet, we could see the faces of our family and friends through their acts of extreme sacrifice and generosity.

Eventually, my son underwent brain surgery and it was one of the scariest days of our lives. I don’t think anything could have prepared us for this kind of fear. It was a different kind of pain. In addition to visions and dreams of the future being stolen, it felt like we already missed him even though he was still with us. We begged God for grace.

When Maverick came home from the hospital, our front yard showcased the most elaborate “welcome home” sign display I had ever seen. There were balloons and gifts as far as the eye could see.

He had had a really hard night in the hospital, and a really confusing day, but those signs brought a smile to our little boy’s face.

For weeks people brought meals, gifts, cards, and toys to the point where Maverick began to think we had a magical door. Every time he opened it there was something else left on our front porch for him.

The darkness was lighting up.

It’s now been over a year since Maverick’s surgery. However, late in 2020 his headaches which had subsided considerably returned to almost the same degree of frequency and intensity. We feared the worst. The light started to flicker.

Would we have to go through all of this again?

We prayed. We cried. And we reached out for our flashlights. Our friends and family again covered us in prayer, brought us a meal on a hard day, and supported us through the unknown.

I think sometimes we can get angry with God for the way he answers prayer. When he doesn’t heal, when he doesn’t save, or when he doesn’t take the pain away, but my wife and I are slowly beginning to understand that these too are answers to our prayers.

Maybe the power isn’t coming back on just yet, but he’s giving us grace to see even in the darkness. He is giving us grace to see the purpose in the pain.

After the latest MRI, we discovered that Maverick’s cyst had completely decompressed, and his surgical team felt it wasn’t necessary to do any further operations at this time.

Do we have all the answers?


But we have a room full of light at this point, and a faithful God we know we can trust whatever we face.


Tag Archive for: Story

The Kim Halverson Story

God used the ladies around Kimberly to put her on a new path of seeing not only her strengths, but also how he could use even her weaknesses to bring him glory and reflect his character.

Here is the full Kim Halverson story:

The Ryan Petty Story

“I saw how easily I fell into temptation and how I needed a savior. I had heard the story of Jesus, but never really grasped who he was or what he did for me.” – Ryan

Here is the full Ryan Petty story:

The Michael Jeffrey Story

“My small group is a safe place to ask my questions and I can honestly say it’s changed my life!”

Here is the full story of Michael Jeffrey’s small group experience.

Check out more information on small groups at clearcreek.org/smallgroups.

The Casey Baldwin Story

Casey Baldwin was introduced to Christianity at a young age, but he was left with a lot of questions and not many answers.

For years, he lived content with the answers atheism provided.

But when Casey and his wife decided to start a family, they opened up to going back to church.

The Greg Schneider Story

In a 3rd grade classroom in Bethesda, Maryland in 1957, a 9-year-old Greg Schneider began his search for something bigger than himself. His teacher Ms. Walters, who oozed grandma-like kindness, started each school day with a Bible reading, the Pledge of Allegiance, and a time for quiet prayer.

It was both foreign and refreshing to experience prayer in this way, according to Greg, whose family, although Jewish, wasn’t very religious. In fact, Greg didn’t even know he was Jewish until he had to pretend he wasn’t Jewish in order to get into the local swimming club where Jews still weren’t allowed.

“Anne Walters taught me love of God, love of people, and love of country,” Greg said about the three central allegiances of his life.

Sometimes Ms. Walters would share a spiritual story from her life, and she always ended each day with a hug for each of her students as they walked out the door.

“For me this was my starting point in my search for faith,” Greg shared. “I thought, someone couldn’t just do that out of her own self. There was something more motivating her.”

And from this young age, Greg set his mind to discovering what it was that inspired an elementary school teacher to cheerfully share her faith with his class.

Around the same time, a Christian family friend learned about Greg’s interest in prayer and Scripture reading, so she asked Greg’s parents for permission for him to attend her family’s church.

“My father never stopped me from my interest in learning about spiritual matters,” Greg said. “He actually encouraged the family [spiritually] by bringing us to Jewish Passover Services. Dad wanted me to be proud to be a Jew.”

And Greg was proud to be a Jew. He was proud to be his father’s son, the son of a man who, along with two brothers, survived the German Holocaust when the rest of their family was exterminated. Greg formed an acute awareness of his father’s painful past in triggering moments like when he and some school friends scribbled swastikas on their arms. What Greg and his friends had likened to wearing a Daniel Boone coon skin cap as a way of banding together, his father associated with the heinous experiences of his ancestors.

Greg always wanted to honor and respect his father for what he went through, but he was also searching for something outside of what his Jewish heritage gave him. This created an internal conflict for Greg because he didn’t want to disappoint his father with his choices.

Throughout grade school, Greg continued to have an extensive interest in faith. In the 8th grade, he asked to go to an Episcopal Preparatory School in Connecticut. From there he went for 9th and 10th grade to a Quaker Preparatory School.

At times Greg’s family became concerned with his interest in a “different” faith, as noted in a letter from Greg’s sister to their father on Greg’s 17th birthday. The letter states, This whole religious thing is just a need on his part to talk and express himself, [and] they will guide his thinking to their own purposes and according to their own beliefs.

“The letter saddened me because I was the one looking for a personal relationship with God,” Greg shared. “No one was misleading me.”

As a middle schooler, Greg joined the Safety Patrol at school. From a young age, Greg wanted to show gratitude for the Americans who liberated his father and uncles, and by joining the Safety Patrol and becoming captain, he felt he was giving back to society out of gratitude.

“In my young mind it was a way of serving our country,” Greg said.

Greg graduated from high school in 1967 with many academic, athletic, and leadership recognitions, and went to college where, aside from the occasional chapel service, he was still unsettled about his faith and direction in life. So he enlisted in the U.S. Army.

“I joined the Army because I really felt that they saved my father and my two uncles,” Greg said. After basic training, he was assigned to the Pentagon, and it was there, in 1969, where he met a very persistent man in a bar.

Andy Puleo came into the bar across the Army base where Greg and his Army brothers frequented. According to Greg, Andy seemed to be following him, wanting to talk to him.

“I literally escorted him out,” Greg said, explaining he just wanted to hang out with his buddies. But Andy came back the next night, looking for Greg again. “I said, ‘What are you doing here? I told you not to talk to me!’ and he said, ‘Well, I’ve got something very important to share with you.’” Greg thought the guy was either nuts or really did have something important to share, so that second night, Greg listened.

“And that was the first time I really heard the gospel.”

Andy shared from the New Testament, not knowing Greg was Jewish. But, at that time, Greg was not going to be convinced of Christianity based solely on the New Testament.

“I wanted to see if there was something [about the gospel of Christ] from the Old Testament.” Greg thought that he would have a better chance at getting his father’s approval if he had reason to believe in Christ from the Old Testament. Greg’s love for his father and the pain he went through was so profound that, if he were going to be a Messianic Jew, he wanted to do it in a way that would respect the Jewish heritage.

While Greg agreed to go with Andy a few weeks later to a gathering of Christians from an international Christ-based ministry, the seed of the gospel hadn’t yet taken root in him.

Greg returned to college in Buffalo, New York, during the fall of 1971, to prepare for a career in business and finance. After settling in, he attended a picnic for what he thought was an athletic group called InterVarsity but what was actually another Christ-based ministry. Regardless, he went with the hopes of developing friendships, and that day he met Peter Ford and Carolyn Fisher.

“They spent time talking with me that day and learned of my background,” Greg said. “After an hour they wanted to share some Scripture with me from Isaiah 53:3-12. The Old Testament Scripture was so prophetic that, unless you were really fighting to not see something, the gospel message was clearly shared.”

He was despised and rejected by mankind, a man of suffering, and familiar with pain.  Like one from whom people hide their faces he was despised, and we held him in low esteem.  Surely, he took up our pain and bore our suffering, yet we considered him punished by God, stricken by him and afflicted.  But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed.  We all like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to our own way; and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all.  He was oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; he was led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before its shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth.

Until this point, Greg wasn’t sure how he could continue to please his father if he abandoned the faith of his heritage. But after hearing God’s word that day, Greg realized his allegiance was to Christ. He was ready to take the step he needed to take to transition from loving his father first to loving the Lord Jesus Christ first.

“So I prayed to receive Christ right outside my home that day.”

In 1977, Greg became a leader with Campus Crusade for Christ, another Christ-based ministry. It was at the new leader training where he met his now wife, April. At first, he was so focused on serving the Lord with his life, he wasn’t interested in marriage. But, a few study groups and quiet times together and they both knew marriage was God’s will for their lives. To this day, Greg and April still enjoy their daily times of Scripture reading and prayer together.

Greg and April moved to Clear Lake in 2018 and became members of Clear Creek Community Church after hearing and aligning with the church’s We Believe statements. They have a son, Michael, and a grandson, Elijah, and their family still attends traditional Jewish Passover services as a way to honor and celebrate Greg’s Jewish heritage. They also attend as a way to build relationships that might lead to sharing the gospel to Jews who may be seeking the way Greg was back in Ms. Anne Walter’s class.

“I really think Anne was wanting to witness to us with the gospel message, risking [her job] every morning.” He witnessed this gospel sharing through Ms. Walters, through Virginia Harpham, through Andy Puleo, and through Peter and Carolyn Fisher.

Now Greg is the one planting gospel seeds.

The 73-year-old continues to show Christ to others as a navigator of Clear Creek small groups and an Egret Bay Campus First Impressions volunteer. He and April serve weekly to be a light to those who walk through the doors of the church. And up until his father passed away, Greg shared Christ’s love and sacrifice with him, not ever truly knowing if the seed took root.

“I am thankful today for being born a Jew, but I realize the real reason I am thankful has nothing to do with me, but all to do with Jesus — who came as a Jew to save all of mankind by living a sinless life and then taking all the sins of mankind on himself, so we may be forgiven of our sins by his dying on the cross.”

The Guitar I Didn’t Want to Give Away

I didn’t want to give away my first electric guitar.

Even though it was an Ibanez “shredder,” designed for a style I don’t really play anymore, it was sentimental to me. I had owned it since I was a teenager, and it had been with me through the many changes in my life. It moved with me to different parts of Texas at least four times. I assumed I’d always keep it, even if it never more than a nostalgic conversation piece in the closet.

So, when I sensed God leading me to dust it off, get it fixed up, and give it away, I was immediately resistant. Aw man, God. It was my first guitar! I whined a little to him and bristled against the conviction, but I knew it was what he wanted me to do. Another guitar in my house wouldn’t mean much. But to give that guitar away could mean something to someone else, even if it caused me a little pain to do so.

All right.



I’ll do it!

I planned to give it to the Hope 4 Honduras youth pastor, a wonderful guitar player and worship leader, I’d met on a previous mission trip to Honduras. But right before leaving Houston, I found out he’d gotten a job elsewhere and was no longer at the mission.

Well, who can I give it to now, God? 

I debated even bringing the guitar at all but decided to follow through on God’s prompting. I didn’t know who I would give it to, but I stayed alert for an opportunity.

Shortly after arriving in Honduras, I ran into Leo. I had forgotten about this guitarist. Leo works at the mission in IT and security (and he happens to be a killer metal guitar player).

Leo was raised in an environment where Satanic activity, black magic, and witchcraft were the norm. Before Christ, he was surrounded by all sorts of darkness and even played in a band called Blasphemy. But when he came to the Lord, he emerged from his shrouded past and stepped into the light.

The Lord led him to put down his guitar for a long time as he healed from his former life. God showed him that his motivation had been for his own glory and recognition rather than God’s.

But, after years of soul-searching and transformation, Leo pondered on if he should pick up a guitar again. Someone had even given him an acoustic guitar. This time, he promised himself, his relationship with music would be different. He loved metal and performing live, but he wanted to make sure that his motives were pure — that it was for God’s glory alone.

My husband, Billy, and I sat on the Hope 4 Honduras patio, listening to Leo’s story, and a fire shone in his eyes as he told us that he finally felt God telling him he was ready. He had scheduled some time in a recording studio, only a few weeks away. His goal was to form a Christian metal band, bringing Christ to the dark places of the metal scene. He wanted to minister to those musicians as well, sharing his testimony and the glory of God in his redeemed life.

All he needed was an electric guitar.

He didn’t have much money, but he was hoping to be able to find something that worked and sounded good. I asked him the brand and type of guitar he would get if he had more money. When he said “Ibanez” and started describing the exact characteristics of the guitar I had, I knew it was time.

When I told him the story of how the guitar got there, the two of us were in awe.

I will never get over how specific God’s love is for us. His touch is so personal! He provides us with more than we can ask or imagine, at exactly the right time. This was Leo’s affirmation from God: telling him beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was, indeed, ready.

And Leo is running with it. He’s been practicing and recording, and has decided to call his project “Memra,” which loosely means “Word of the Lord.” It is an Aramaic word used in the Bible to describe God’s power coming alive in the physical world — as it will with Leo’s music.

To God be the glory for what he will do with Leo and his gift! We are so excited to see what God does next.

The Sidman Story

Ross and Alana Sidman have been small group Navigators at Clear Creek for years, living on mission, and inviting others to church all while walking their dog.

The Abby Steele Story

Small group is a place you can come as you are, without fear of judgment, and be met with authenticity and acceptance.

Here is the story of Abby Steele’s small group experience.

Check out more information on small groups at clearcreek.org/smallgroups.

The Josh Yahoudy Story (Full)

Being in community in small group is where we believe that you will experience the greatest spiritual growth. It’s in small group that we are able to ask our questions, be vulnerable and honest with each other, care for each other, and encourage each other as we pursue God together.

Here is the full story of Josh Yahoudy’s small group experience.

Check out more information on small groups at clearcreek.org/smallgroups


The Jordan St. John Story

“I came with all of my questions and doubts and they loved me through it.” – Jordan

Here is the full story of Jordan St. John’s small group experience.

Check out more information on small groups at clearcreek.org/smallgroups

Tag Archive for: Story

158: Restoried in Baptism

A little girl was asked by her parents about her time at church that day. She replied, “It was no fun. Someone got to go swimming and I didn’t!”

Baptism is an ordinance that Christians have practiced for two millennia.

Why do we do it? What does it symbolize? Who is it for?

On this episode, Ryan Lehtinen talks with Chris Alston and Aaron Lutz about these questions, and they share some impactful baptism stories.

Interested in getting baptized? Learn more HERE

156: The Power of Story in the Digital Age

Everyone has a story and every story is significant.

In the gospel, God invites us into his story.

On this episode, Ryan Lehtinen sat down with members of the Clear Creek Story Team, Jon Coffey, Ted Ryskoski, and Jon Crump, to discuss why stories matter and the creative process they use to tell someone’s story.

Tell Us Your Story

148: I Don’t Want to Join a Small Group

If you’ve been around Clear Creek for any time at all, you know we talk about small group often.

But what if you’re too busy, or too shy?

What if you’ve tried group but had a bad experience?

In this episode, Aaron Lutz sits down with Rachel Fisher, Small Groups Associate, to talk about the legitimate obstacles people face when it comes to joining and leading small groups, and why, at the end of the day, they are still worth it.

069: This Changes Everything – The Austin Webber Story

What if you had everything you ever wanted – your dream job, lots of money, a large house, and an expensive car – but you still felt empty? As Austin Webber found himself in that very place, he was challenged to read the Bible for himself. What started as a way to use his skills as a lawyer to disprove a faith he discarded long ago, ended with a confrontation with a truth he could no longer deny. On this episode, Ryan Lehtinen talks with Austin about how Jesus changes everything.



064: When Only God Knows – The Jon Black Story

In the Clear Creek message series Unstoppable we learned that God, his gospel, and his church are an unstoppable force for good in the world. But sometimes, even though we know we should trust God, it’s hard to believe that he’s working things out in the here and now. On this episode, Clear Creek Story Team writer Jon Coffey sits down with Jon Black to talk about his checkered history with church, his years of wandering, and his battle with addiction. Through Jon Black’s story, whether we’re confronted with a tumultuous season of life like COVID-19, or a person who just can’t seem to get it right, we learn that God is always at work, even when we can’t see it.


Pathway to Peace

Hear more stories from Clear Creek Resources