When I was pregnant with my first child, my husband and I packed up our belongings, quit our jobs and moved across the country to go to seminary. We felt the call of God on our lives and wanted to serve Him in ministry, whether here or overseas. Our hearts were eager with the prospect of seeing God at work.
After a year, we were lucky to find an assignment for my husband, Tracy, as a youth pastor. Things started easily enough. The youth were friendly and teachable and we instantly bonded. However, things did not stay like this. Issues that existed in the church before we came pulled my husband into a church dispute that soon became overwhelming.
Within a few short months, we knew it was time to resign, trusting God to work out the financial details. My husband preached on our last day, with a boldness that both frightened and amazed me. He was loving, but he was honest. There was a huge reaction to his message, some even begging him to stay, but he stated over and over he had no desire to bring division to the church. Though Tracy felt released by God and blame did not rest on his shoulders, he felt guilty about the turmoil.
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