What Should We Say?
Knock, knock, knock. Someone was at the door. Probably a salesman. No one else would ever find their way to our house. I was in my first year of ministry. Kerra and I lived in the church parsonage, which was on a lonely road seven miles from the nearest gas station. The church I served didn't have an office, so I established my workplace in one of the bedrooms. Knock, kno...
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