• Dana L. Butler


She sits across the Starbucks table from me, lower lip quivering, eyes slowly filling.

“I’ve believed and believed and had more faith than I ever imagined I could have, and He hasn’t taken it away.”

Anger and hurt are written across her face. Across her heart.

And I? I’m grieved. I’m grieved because I’ve watched us — the western evangelical church — in all our good intentions, create this monster theology.

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