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Written with love.

The Way We’ve Always Done It

The Way We’ve Always Done It

Once there was island nation called Potamus, where the trees grew short and stout and the residents lived on seaweed. The island was volcanic, and frequent eruptions of hot gas singed the treetops and forced the rain forest to grow out rather than up. The volcano was only middle-aged and mostly friendly. It still lay low in the center of the island rather than a mountain looming high over it. It would remain so for centuries to come for it was content to bubble and puff rather than build itself up with lava at the cost of destruction of life on the ring of land.

The creatures who lived on Potamus were gray and bulbus, with long tubular noses.

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On Stewardship, Slowness and Connection

On Stewardship, Slowness and Connection

Remaining disconnected from broken humans and animals that know a thousand ways to die may seem the easier route, but it’s infinitely less satisfying. Much like the health benefits from choosing regenerative farming, choosing to make disciples comes with incalculable benefits, life abundantly. We can all sit and remain “blissfully ignorant” consumers. I won’t pretend that there isn’t pain in watching an addict relapse or a child struggle in an incredibly difficult home. I won’t pretend that it’s easy to encounter my own flesh as we plow, sow and harvest alongside other believers. But friends, the growth and joy and drawing deep into Jesus is more bliss than any ignorance can pretend to give.

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Fellowship; A Short Story
Short Stories, Church, Faith, Fellowship Elicia Johnson Short Stories, Church, Faith, Fellowship Elicia Johnson

Fellowship; A Short Story

Tony growled a little and then acquiesced, "Okay." He laid the extra oars down along the hull of his boat and picked up one of his normal ones. He nodded at me to pick up one of mine. We each rowed with one oar, still breasted up. As the day wore on, so did I. I refused to admit it though, and rowed with all my might. We spoke little, which should have been a glaring alarm for me that something was wrong. But I poured all of my mental and physical strength into rowing, two hands on one oar, and I still grew more sluggish by the hour.

Darkness fell. Even though I couldn't see straight, I kept telling myself I'd be back to normal in the morning. When I finally lay down in my berth, the relief my body felt morphed quickly into gratefulness for Tony. Who knows where I would have ended up without his knowing friendship. That realization was the last thing I remembered before drifting off.

I can foggily recall two things from the days that followed…

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Shield Maintenance
Faith Elicia Johnson Faith Elicia Johnson

Shield Maintenance

You see what I mean? Truths rearranged can be easily accepted lies. When this happens, our defenses are weak. We easily succumb to emotional, spiritual and physical bombardment. And that’s a sure fire way to succumb to temptation, illness, fear, etc.


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