The Night I Became a Believer Again

I set out note sheets, fumbled with round tables, and spaced out chairs. Coffee and snacks lined the nametag station. It was night one of my leading a “Church for Monday” class in early September, and it felt like clockwork. Our church has offered this class, or versions of it, for decades — longer even than I have been on staff, or even been a pastor at all. As I looked over my notes again,