How A Devastating Experience Gave Me A New Life Purpose

One year ago today, I was suddenly fired from my job at a church. The experience was devastating and embarrassing. But one year later, I’m living a bigger purpose than I could have imagined.

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Numb. That’s the word I would use to describe the feeling I felt when my supervisor looked at me and said, “We’re releasing you from student ministry.”

Actually, numb communicates a feeling. I had none. No expression on my face either. After the HR Director finished his spiel about what I had to sign, what I had to agree to, and what I had to leave behind, I shook their hands, and quietly walked out of the office we were meeting in. In my right hand were severance papers. Never in a million years would I have dreamed I would carry severance papers!

Why I’m Late To Church Again!

When you have children with special needs, everyday is an adventure. Sometimes, the adventure is exciting. Other days, it’s frustrating. Simple things that most people take for granted, like walking into a church, are an uphill climb. We personally climbed this hill for years before making progress. We’re still climbing in many regards. The biggest question we’ve wrestled with is, how do you function while making sure your children’s needs are fully met? This is a post by Kristin, who has lived on the front lines of our children’s special needs.

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Today I’m embarking on a battle. I know I look a little frazzled. I truly did put make-up on …two hours ago. It takes at least an hour to coax my newly adopted son from the house to the car. The quick stop at the Dunkin Donuts drive-through was a special treat for me even though I knew it would put us even more behind.

We roll into the church parking lot and I begin winding in and out among rows of neatly parked cars. There has to be a space a little closer I think. I’ll never make it from the back of the parking lot. Who am I kidding? We haven’t actually made it into the church in 7 weeks. I see one but I’m too late. I’ve got to squeeze the 12 passenger van in somewhere. Finally I see the spot and make my way there. My 18 month old has already started his protest.

“NONONONONONONONO” he whimpers, “too loud.”