What if.....

This post is part of the April Synchroblog.

The question presented for the synchroblog is: What if the resurrection of Jesus was a hoax?

Well, the first thing that came to mind is that if he was not raised, he was not the Messiah - not the Christ. This would mean that everything from Matthew to Revelation (in the Bible) would be bullshit. There would be no room for the idea of viewing him as a good teacher, just not divine. Why? Because he made it very plain in the words attributed to him in the Gospels that he was the Christ and he would be raised. So, either he did not say those things and his followers made that part up, which would bring into question all quotes attributed to him, or he actually did say these things, in which case he was either a manipulative opportunist undeserving of being followed or he was a lunatic with delusions of grandeur whose teaching would be dangerous to follow. He said he was God, after all....there is not really much wiggle room here if truth is at all important. As C. S. Lewis pointed out in Mere Christianity, Jesus did not mean to leave any room for viewing him as just a good teacher.

But I want to take this in to a little more personal direction. If the resurrection did not happen, then I would not be here. For me, it is about more than  teachings and doctrines and theologies and debating - not that I can't get into that at times - I can go all theonerd with the best of them. No, for me, it is about him being there in the middle of the night when the demons want to torment a 9 year old girl. It is about knowing him more and more - and being known by him more and more. It is about him being a real, living, speaking person here, now in this present time. Forget following his teachings as a good moral code for living. For me, he was/is a here and now - front and center - holding my hand in the dark so I could/can sleep, singing softly in my ear to comfort - constant presence in my life.

Simply put, if there was no resurrection, then he would not have been there holding my hand and comforting me while I walked through the hell that was my childhood/early adulthood. And if he had not been there, I would not have survived. So - Jesus not raised? I would not be here. If he was not raised, I would not have seen him and I would have succeeded in taking my own life. And I think that is the most fundamental point.... Emmanuel - God with us - still. 

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Other synchroblog participants:


Marta Layton: On faith seeking understanding, truth and theology
Carol Kuniholm: Risen Indeed? The Hermaneutic Community
Tim Nichols: How Would Life Be Different If Jesus Did Not Rise?
Glenn Hager: Kingdom Come or Kingdom Now?
Sonja Andrews: The Resurrection and The Life
Josh Morgan: The Role Of The Resurrection
Abbie Watters: What If The Resurrection Were A Lie?
Minnow: Resurrection Impact
Leah: Resurrection - Or Not!
Hey Sonnie: The Resurrection Hoax
Liz Dyer: The Resurrection I Firmly Believe In
Helen Haroutunian: Is There A Christianity Without The Resurrection?
Christine Sine: If the Resurrection Did Not Happen, How Would the World be Different? 
KW Leslie: Supposing Jesus Is Dead 
Travis Mamone: If The Resurrection Was A Hoax... 
Kathy Escobar: Jenga Faith
Jeremy Myers: What If Jesus Did Not Rise?

On Being Female....

This is part of the March Synchroblog

Hmm… I have found this post harder to write than I expected. When I first saw the subject for this month’s synchroblog – All About Eve: Women’s History Month, I was excited. After all, it was a topic I had requested. I thought about it and had my subject all picked out – I was going to de-construct the foundational issue in the patriarchal theology concerning hierarchy. At some point in the future, I may still write about that. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that my heart is in a different direction right now. I love to dig into theology and all, but there have already been some wonderful things written that deconstruct the ideas surrounding so called ‘biblical patriarchy’. At the bottom of this post, I will put some links for those of you who are interested.

So… what is on my heart? I have struggled with this post more than anything I have ever written. I’m not really sure why. I guess what's bubbling to the surface makes me feel vulnerable. Deep breath…. I am going to try to describe what it is like, for me, to be a woman.

The first thing that comes to mind is that I have never much identified with being a woman. I know that sounds strange. I have always (nearly 50 years) been female. Even typing that feels strange. It has only been recently that I have consciously recognized that I have never gender identified. That is gradually – oh so slowly – beginning to change. So why, during the bulk of my life, when I thought of myself, it was nearly always in terms of gender-neutral? Well… I think there are a lot of reasons.

The most obvious is probably the childhood sexual abuse. When I was a kid – 7, 8, 9 years old, I did not want to be a girl. For awhile, I even wished I was a boy. Boys had all the power. Boys hurt people – girls got hurt. As I built barriers inside to protect myself, especially after the sexual abuse stopped. I had no ability to relate to normal kid things – socially, I didn’t fit and didn’t know how to. And the pressure as you go into Junior High to start dating and liking boys, was confusing and sometimes excruciating. And I knew I wasn’t normal. I knew I would never be normal. And I knew that if anyone knew what had been done to me, I would never be accepted – I would have a ‘reputation’ – I would be pitied at best and rejected as ruined at worst. So, rather than trying to fit into those roles, I simply withdrew into my own world where gender was of no importance.

All of this happened in the late 60s and early 70s. So there was the added pressure of the very public feminist movement – Betty Friedan and Gloria Steinem. And we went to a fairly conservative small town church. My aunt was a staunch feminist. My mom was critical – no, condescending – toward her. I remember when I was 11 and began to enter puberty, my aunt took me aside and told me I needed to decide, right now, whether I was going to start wearing a bra or not. My mom gave me no such option. My aunt would interrupt in mid sentence to correct from ‘lady’ to ‘woman’. She would go into lecture mode if any man in the public arena called her ‘sweetie’ or ‘sugar’ or some other such word. Hmm…. She would wear bib-overalls with no shirt or bra underneath. She really didn’t inspire me to her cause with these things.

Meanwhile, my mom was above all that ‘feminist nonsense’, as she seemed to view it. I think she felt like it made women look ridiculous, or something. She was definitely not a fan of Friedan or Steinem – and was not shy about expressing her opinion about them. I remember when Billie Jean King challenged Bobby Riggs to a “Battle of the Sexes” tennis match. King beat Riggs handily and I remember my mom saying some derogatory things about the match. But I was secretly rooting for King and felt a small sliver of validation when she won…. I was 10 at the time. Hmm… actually, what I felt was more like relief that she had won. Interesting.

This was all in the backdrop of being heavily involved in various Assemblies of God churches (my dad’s job required us to move a lot). I know A of G is supposed to be egalitarian and allowing women to be ordained and all – and the position paper they put out in August of 2010 is very cool – but the reality in my life in the 60s and 70s was that women needed to stay in their place. Maybe this was as much societal as church. I don’t know, but the reality was that no matter which way I looked, TV, family, church… It was just better – more profitable – to be a boy. And I did not want to be pressed into the female mold that I saw, so I retreated from gender as much as was possible. Hmm… when I was in 8^th grade, I was at a marching band competition. I loved band and marching band. I played the trombone and I was first chair. It was lunch time and the guy who sat second chair to me, Pete, and I were sitting under a tree eating our lunch. His mom came up to me and said, “You should play a more feminine instrument and let a boy have first chair in a boy’s instrument.” What? How did gender get in the middle of my favorite class? Pete was so embarrassed by his mom.

The message I heard growing up was clear. It basically sucked to be female. The message came mostly in subtle, not blatant and easily definable ways. It came from church. It came from the media/TV. It came from family. It came from society at large. It came from those that used me even when I was only 2 years old. And this what it said:

·         Girls are to be conquered, boys are conquerors

·         Girls are to be controlled, boys get to do what they want

·         Girls are to be used, boy can say no

·         Girls have no power, boys have all the power

·         Girls are weak, boys are strong

·         Girls, once used, are dirty

·         Girls should follow, boys get to lead

·         Girls are to blame, boys get sympathy

·         Boys are the boss, girls better get in line

·         Boys are designed to lead, girls are designed to follow

·         Boys get more privileges, girls are restricted

·         If a boy hurts you, people take his side

·         IF you hurt a boy, people take his side

·         Boys get away with things, girls get in trouble

·         Boys are celebrated, girls are tolerated

So how does that all shake out now that I am quickly approaching 50? Well, I have rejected church, in general. I have walked away from my parents – haven’t talked to my mom in close to 4 years. I don’t really watch much TV – avoid advertising to the degree that I reasonably can. I read a lot of different blogs and have gained a new respect for my aunt – and for Friedan and Steinem. And I have been in therapy for over 4 years. And I pursue God. And I am gradually beginning to believe that it is okay to be a daughter of God. I have begun to think of myself as a girl, a woman – tentatively, cautiously – like trying on a new coat, unsure if there is something in the pocket that might bite. I have reached the place where I kind of think it might be okay to be female….

Other synchoblog participants:

Michelle Morr Krabill - Why I Love Being A Woman
Marta Layton - The War on Terror and the War on Women

Ellen Haroutunian - March Synchroblog: All About Eve 

Jeremy Myers - Women Must Lead the Church

Carol Kuniholm - Lenten Submission: Rethinking Hupotasso

Wendy McCaig - Letting Junia Fly: Releasing the Called

Tammy Carter - Pat Summitt: Changing the Game & Changing the World
Kathy Escobar - Replacing the "f" Word With the "d" Word (No, Not Those Ones!) 
Melody Hanson - Call Me Crazy, But I Talk to Jesus (Thoughts On Being A Christian Woman In the 21st Century)
Glenn Hager - Walked Into A Bar
Steve Hayes - St. Christina of Persia
Leah Sophia - March Synchroblog: All About Eve
Liz Dyer - The Problem Is Not That I See Sexism Everywhere, The Problem Is That You Don't
Sonja Andrews - International Women's Day
Sonnie Swenston-Forbes - The Women: Named And Unnamed
Christine Sine - It All Begins With Love
K W Leslie - Undoing the Subordination of Women
Carrie Good - The Math of Mr. Cardinal  
Dan Brennan - Ten Women I Want To Honor

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Here are some links if you care to dig into the answer to patriarchy yourself: God’s Word to Women, Suzanne’s   Bookshelf, Assemblies of God Position Paper on Women in Ministry – August 2010, Margaret Fell: Women Speaking Justified.

And here are some links to examples of some of the more tame, main-stream doctrines in the ‘biblical patriarchy’ camp so you know this stuff isn't made up: Vision Forum: The Tenets of Biblical Patriarchy, Council On Biblical Manhood and Womanhood: Evangelical Feminism and Biblical Truth by Wayne Grudem.

Where Is Your Heart?

This post is part of the November synchroblog.

Hmm...haven't posted for a long time, but I am still here....

As the title & header of my blog may suggest, I have a prophetic bent, so this month's topic definitely grabbed me. The past few months have been full of a lot of challenges - from having to go to church food banks to get through tight places (and that is a horror story unto itself) to becoming involved with a small fellowship of believers burned out on religion but passionate about the felt presence of God.

For those of you who have followed my blog for a while, you know these last 4 years have been full of doubt, pain, healing, frustration, and a passion for finding truth. I think these elements will be with me for a long time to come - I think they are, perhaps, just part of life on this planet - at least mine. So....

Hmm....as I have become involved with this little fellowship, I have been challenged to remember that just as I have tendrils of religious bs still clinging to me in places, so does everyone else who has fled the IC. We probably will always have bits and pieces that trail along - like that annoying bit of toilet paper that gets stuck to our shoe but we don't see...but everyone else does. I am learning to make allowances for that in others and in myself....

I have also been challenged to return to the core of my relationship with Jesus. It is a relationship that goes back as far as I can remember (probably even farther). It is so easy to get to a place where you don't want to offend people by talking about Jesus. But if he is my best friend, someone who has been there for me through every hurt and every victory....

To give perspective, I think about my dear friend that got thrown out of church because she wouldn't lie about what the pastor did to her. I left with her, have stuck with her. She is an awesome friend. And I don't care what people think about me because of my friendship with her. I have been mocked, pitied, condemned, and who knows what else. But it doesn't matter. I know the truth and I am honored to be her friend. And the friendship I have with her is worth every bit of it....

So....if I am willing to take abuse and slander and ridicule for being her friend, why should it be any different with Jesus? The relationship I have with him is more valuable than anything anyone might choose to say or think or do. Truly, I would rather die than live without him in my life. That may seem dramatic, but it is absolute truth. I have never known what it is like to be without him right there, constant, strong, a presence that does not fade. A friend. And honestly, I hope I never do. So I have been challenged to return to that faithfulness to the friendship - a faithfulness that any true friendship deserves.

I have also been challenged, through involvement with this little fellowship, to not let go of the hard won freedoms I have gained in the years since I left the IC. I have become acutely aware of how much condemnation was a part of my daily life. Instilled through abuse from family, from the IC, from twisted doctrine and legalism, from rigid demands of conformity to a specific interpretation of what being a Christian must be. Just last week, I was startled at how easily I fell back into the pressure to 'conform' to old standards of religious correctness - triggered by the religious phrases still used by some in this fellowship (though I also have seen that was not their intent). But as my friend reminded me, I only fell into it for a couple of days before i smelled the bs and dropped it. It has served to remind me that my freedom is mine to keep or relinquish, but it takes a willingness to offend in order to keep it. One of the things Jesus told me very clearly in the last few weeks is that I need to let go of the fear of men (gender neutral). Truly, no matter what someone else may think about it, no one - and I mean NO ONE - has the ability or authority to, in ANY way, affect my standing or relationship with Jesus. Period. That relationship is personal and one on one. To really, finally start to understand that really no one can do that.... is a whole new level of freedom for me. I'm not sure I have words to convey the freedom - the power - this simple truth has for me. I am recognizing that choosing to pursue Jesus outside of the religious boundaries of the IC is beautiful, freeing, scary, challenging... The religious doctrines of the IC offer security - do what we say, how we say, and we guarantee your place in eternity. Breaking away from that is not as easy as I would like. But really, it is an illusory security. That is one of the most damnable aspects of the IC, to me - that false sense of security. I think, for me, the pursuit of truth demands risking that alluring promise of security for a far more real and beautiful place... I have told God I want truth, even if it annihilates me. And I think that is actually a far safer position than the one religion offers.

I am also realizing, through my involvement with this fellowship, that there are still wounds that are sore. My healing is not complete. But it probably won't be this side of death. I am seeing that all of us in this group are wounded in various different ways. We are all being challenged to give each other the space to heal with dignity. And learning to trust is slow, but I am seeing glimmers of hope in this. For the first time in my life, my voice matters to the others in the group. That is, oddly, a bit confusing - overwhelming, even. But it is also healing - new friendships being formed with trust reaching out cautiously, hopefully.

What is the result? I am finally starting to make steps in the direction of actually walking out the visions I have seen. It is exciting and a little scary. But really, there is no other thing to do. I cannot go backward without giving up my integrity - to go back would be to lie about what I have seen and experienced.

On the practical level, the challenges continue. I have been on unemployment for 13 months - so many job applications - so few interviews..... and things are getting pretty tight. But above all, I am learning that the fundamental element of faith is to simply keep moving and not give up.

Other synchroblog participants...

Joy Wilson at Solacetree: The Blessing Of Losing Your Faith
Jeremy Myers at Till He Comes: I Have A Dream
Glenn Hager at Breathe: Uncomfortably Numb
Linda at Kingdom Grace: On Earth As It Is In Heaven
Sally at Eternal Echoes: Where Are The True Prophets?
Tammy Carter at Blessing the Beloved: No Compromise
Alan Knox at The Assembling of Church: My Word of Prophecy: Quit Listening to Prophetic Voices
Liz at Grace Rules: Listen
Christine Sine at Godspace: Surrounded by Prophetic Voices - Clouds of Witnesses that Call Us Out of Numbness
Amy Martin: The Window of Suffering, the Beginning of Hope
Kathy Escobar at The Carnival in My Head: Rising Up From Below
K. W. Leslie at More Christ: What Is God Challenging You To Do?
Steve Hayes at Khanya: Murder of the Cathedral
Leah Chang at Desert Spirit's Fire: Wall Street, Our Street
Bobby Aunder at Deconstructing Neverland: Shift
Minnow at Minnowspeaks: Day of Dialogue 

What is WIlderness?

Hmm... this is an interesting topic for me. I'm not sure where to begin. I know that most people in Christian circles think of this as those times when God seems distant and we have to press on without 'feeling' His presence. I had initially thought I would just talk along those lines in connection with the last four years away from church, but as I begin to write, I realize that this is a much broader topic for me. And I find I want to go back even further.

I guess for me right now, wilderness feels like exile - separation - aloneness. And that began when I was very young. As anyone who has read my blog knows, I have spent the last few years digging into my past so I can unearth the roots of the things that have so plagued and bound me. And for the last while, I have been camped on unraveling the mystery of what happened when I was 2 years old. Hmm...I recognize that this is where that feeling of being outside started. The basics that I have come to at this point are that a 17 year-old shirt-tail cousin by marriage that we lived next to molested me and his mother caught him in the act and my mother punished me and swore me to secrecy - haven't been able to remember the words she used - but I am beginning to see the effect they had. I have heard the phrase "Don't you EVER do that again. That is BAD!" And I believe she whipped me with a belt, which was a fairly standard form of punishment.

To understand what this has to do with being in a wilderness place, I need to explain that prior to this incident (at approximately 29 months old), I already knew Jesus. He was a part of my life and I loved Him very much. What happened and my mother's response to it, and consequent teaching in the church concerning sex, placed me in an exile that no one but me ever knew about. Subsequent sexual abuse from others between the ages of 7 and 12 (and again when I was 27), placed me in a state of perpetual exile - wilderness - from which I could not seem to escape.

Throughout my life, there have been attempts to 'fit in' and conform to what I was taught. And I would feel okay for a time, but the aloneness never went away. I never fit. I didn't know how. I understand from this vantage point that God was always with me. But through those years.... I remember at 7 years old going to the altar after service on Sunday nights and just breaking down and sobbing, begging God to please, please, please make me okay. But the exile continued. Through years of walking away from religion and thinking that meant I was not right with God, through years submersed in the cult called a church I became a leader in, the exile remained no matter how devoted I tried to be. I would sometimes, after church, just sit in my car and cry because I felt so alone and 'outside' and unaccepted. During this time, I was a church leader, lead a Bible study...tried SO fucking hard to get it right.

And throughout my life, I have heard His voice. I have prayed - we have talked. I don't want it to sound like He never talked to me or I never knew His presence at all. If that was the case, I suspect by now I would be crazy or dead. But even with His talking to me and being there for me, there was still a barrier - I was still outside looking in....

And then the last four years, having walked away from that church/cult and beginning to recognize that religion is mostly just man-made bs. And walking away from what I had poured myself into because I discovered the 'pastor' was a sexual predator that used and discarded certain women in the church and then the church covered his ass and shoved the women aside with no care as to what happened to them. With this walking away has come a new form of exile and shunning.... but it is familiar.

However, something new has happened these past few years that is different. God gently led me into therapy. And I have begun to tell my story. And I have learned that the exile was not from God. My wilderness was created as a defense against the pain of my life. This a huge discovery. Hmm... a few years ago, when I was in morning prayer with other leaders at the church I was at, we were praying for a little girl in the hospital and I saw Jesus. I won't go into details here, but the relevant thing to this discussion is that I felt immense power flowing out of Him - an energy that was more powerful than anything I had ever sensed - and then realizing that that energy was His love. I was thinking about this a few days ago and Jesus told me that he was not then nor has He ever been withholding His love from me. There is a barrier preventing it from reaching me. And I finally think I understand. That barrier was placed there at 2 1/2 years old (and subsequently built up) to protect myself from the terrible pain of the events of my life. The thing about emotional barriers is that they do not discriminate. They block the receipt of all emotions, not just the 'bad' ones.

And I am excited and scared, because I know I am getting very close to the place of deconstructing that wall. Excited because I will finally be able to receive love....scared because I don't know what to expect - I am not sure I can handle it, because I know that it will also mean feeling the pain that has been blocked, as well.

So to me right now, wilderness = exile and I realize I have spent nearly 46 years in a wilderness, an exile, from receiving love - even understanding it. A dear friend has helped me walk through this (you know who you are - THANK YOU!), continuing to give love, even when it is not received, understanding why. And I know she will continue to.

This is part of a syncroblog: During the season of Lent we are reminded that all of us experience wilderness times in our lives – times of searching, of mourning, of anticipating, of waiting, of watching, of unknowing, of struggling, of preparation. Join us during the season of Lent for this month’s synchroblog as we reflect and share insights and thoughts about “Experiences In The Wilderness”.

Others participating in synchroblog:
Patrick Oden - Musings Part One, Part Two, Part Three and Part Four
Wendy McCaig - A Voice Calling In The Wilderness
Emma Nadine - Life In The Wilderness
Tammy Carter - Put Down The Axe
Jeremy Myers - The Gaping Chasm Of Suicide
Kathy Escobar - Belonging
Steve Hayes - Anatomy Of Exile
Marta Layton - On Sabbaths, Mountain Tops...And Brothers' Keepers
Liz Dyer - Beauty In The Wilderness
Christen Hansel - Snapshots Of The Desert

Who Is God?

Hmm.... I've never participated in a synchroblog before, but this topic grabbed me. I've been on an interesting journey out of religion these last four years. It's funny how personal lives and religious beliefs are all intertwined and it requires untangling both to make sense of either.

I grew up in a Pentecostal home/church - a 'good Christian' home. Appearances, appearances. An emotionally, physically and sexually abusive home where it was an 'Event' if we missed a church service. Church doctrine was the Law (unless my mom disagreed with it, then HER opinion was the voice of God and trumped theirs in our home). Between the abuse and the church teachings, I was so afraid of God that... well, I really haven't found words yet to express the fear and even terror I felt when I was 7 or 8 or 9....

And this was all what people told me about God - who He was and how He thought and what He expected.... and it scared the hell out of me because I knew I was already disqualified by virtue of the things I had already done (translation: the things that had already been done to me).

And if this was all I had of God, I would not have survived. I'm smiling as I write this. The God I know is so much different than the one they teach us about in church. And He introduced Himself to me when I was very little - too little to even speak. Deep in my bones, I knew Him, even if I didn't understand what that was yet. When I was 1 and 2 years old, I loved Jesus....and He loved me back. And then life proceeded down a hellish path. I've struggled with the fact that He allowed this and where I have come to on this is a whole other post. But through the journey that my life has been - through every evil encounter and choices made out of pain and despair, He has never NOT been there. There were times that I couldn't conceive of Him being there, but I can see, now, that He was always there.

Something else that I see, now, is that the main thing that clouded my vision of His presence in my life was not the abuse that I endured in my family.... it was the teaching I received in the church. And through the process of disentangling from the familial abuse, I also have had to disentangle from the religious abuse. I have had to take everything I have been taught about God and throw it in a pile and sort through it and begin throwing away those things that do not fit with the knowledge of Him deep inside. Everything I thought I knew was reduced to a pile of rubble and ash. And that was a good thing - a VERY good thing. Because what I was left with was the necessity of examining what I really believe - and why.

And that brings me to the subject of the synchroblog. I don't believe that Jesus is real and alive and ever present because the church says so. In fact, I went to a 'women's meeting' with a friend a couple of days ago and got good and angry at some of the things that were being taught - things I used to believe because the 'people in charge' said so. And I was not confrontational. I was just able to listen to the teaching and hear what I heard growing up and say, emphatically, to my own heart, 'no! that is not what is true.'

The reason I believe that Jesus is alive and God is real and active is because of the ways He shows Himself in the details of my life - in unexpected and beautiful ways. He really is the father to me that I never had. And it is not just the way things always seem to work out (often at the last minute and in ways that defy logic) - it is also because I have seen Him. And that survives all doctrine and deconstruction of doctrine. It is where life is. It is where things are real and not theoretical. It has nothing to do with what any church teaches - many of them teach as if they have never met Him. It has to do with personal and close experience with the reality that is Him - a reality that is alive and ongoing with new epiphanies regularly. And nothing can take that away from me. And I think that is the point.

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This post is part of a synchroblog: This month’s synchroblog’s theme is inspired by the season of Epiphany which begins on January 6 and ends the day before Ash Wednesday. The word “epiphany” is rich in meaning. Epiphany is derived from the Greek epiphaneia and means manifestation, shining forth, revelation or appearance. In a religious context, the term describes the appearance of an invisible divine being in a visible form. It can also indicate a sudden realization or comprehension of the (larger) essence or meaning of something. An “epiphany” might refer to those times in life when something becomes manifest, a deep realization, a sudden recognition that changes one’s view of themselves or their social condition and often sparks a reversal or change of heart. In the spirit of Epiphany we invite you to share stories, experiences and/or thoughts about “The Manifestation of God”

Others participating in this synchroblog:

Mike Victorino - What To Do?
Beth Patterson - A Robust Universe Includes the Botched and Bungled
Jeff Goins - The Manifestations of God
Jeremy Myers - Pagan Prophecies of Christ
Mark Smith - Manifestations of God
Minnow - When God Shows Up
Alan Knox - A Day I Saw Jesus
Ellen Haroutunian - Stories of Epiphany
Liz Dyer - God Breaking Through Moments
Kathy Escobar - Orphans
Josh Morgan - The Manifestations Of God
Steve Hayes - Theophany: The Manifestation of God
Sarah Bessey - In Which Annie Opens the Door of Her Heart
Christine Sine - Eve of Epiphany - We Have Come, We Have Seen Now We Must Follow
Tammy Carter - Paralysis In His Presence
Peter Walker - Epiphany Outside Theophany (Outside Christianity)
Annie Bullock - God With Us
Jacob Boelman - Where God Shows Up