Author Archives: hannahthewriter

About hannahthewriter

A woman's purse is supposed to tell you everything you need to know about her. My aunt has 3 extra calculators in hers. She's a middle school math teacher. I have three different good black ball points, a bloody red pen, a mechanical pencil, and a black sharpie in mine. Take the cap off and draw your own conclusions.

Testimonies for Epiphany: Prison Ministry – Caleb Kowalko

Growing up, I was afraid of prisons.  That seems like an obvious statement; of course I was scared of prisons.  That’s what a prison is supposed to be – scary.  They build those formidable walls, and fences lined with razor wire, and cells with cameras always watching, and guards with batons and guns to punish – all to instill fear.

But that’s not what really scared me about prisons.  Strangely enough, those parts of the prison are the securities that actually make people like me – on the outside – feel safer.  It’s the people inside of the prisons that I was really afraid of.

And when I imagined prison ministry it was just as scary.  What I had in mind was a lonely minister entering a prison to sit, one-on-one with a restrained criminal in an orange jumpsuit trying to convert them to Christianity.  That’s what I imagined.  And there was nothing about that that appealed to me.

Then, for some reason, (maybe it was divine) I decided to take a class by Project TURN at the divinity school that took place in a maximum security prison.  Every Friday, for a semester, 10 guys from the divinity school would drive to Raleigh central prison, and take a class with 10 men incarcerated there.  It was called “Spiritual Autobiographies,” and, academically, we were going to learn how to hear other peoples stories and how to write our own.  But this class had a deeper goal and it was not written in our syllabus.  It was a goal we just had to be there to discover.

Entering the prison that first day, I was excitedly afraid. At Central Prison, our classroom was three floors up in the very center of the prison. It sometimes took 10 minutes to get all the way to the classroom, with two check-ins, a metal detector, two elevators and three long and dark hallways.  We even pass by death row on the way to class, where all the men there are distinguished by their bright red jumpsuits.  But the question I couldn’t get out of my head while we walked towards our classroom was: What are these men going to be like?

When we finally arrived to the classroom, there, standing, were 10 other men with huge smiles excited and waiting for us with hands extended to introduce themselves.  They had been waiting a long time for this class and were pumped for the opportunity.  As I sat down, I realized that these guys weren’t as scary as I thought they would be and once introductions and the regularities of class started, the real goal became clearer.

Us from the divinity school were not there to help them at Central.  Us from the university were not there to teach them in the prison.  Us from our gothic chapel were not there to convert them behind the bars.

No, the class was set up so that We all had the same reading.  We all had the same assignments, and We were all graded the same.  We were classmates.  We were peers.  And after a few classes, we became friends.  We learned from each other and bonded with each other.  We all listened to each other’s story and gave input to each other to help us tell our stories effectively.

And that listening and storytelling and bonding…was healing.  It was life in the midst of a place of death.

On our last day of class, the government even gave us the okay to eat together.  For that lunch, the men living there requested biscuits, corn bread, banana pudding, McDonalds cheeseburgers and Bojangles fried chicken.  We all ate and drank together around the table.  And after we had stuffed ourselves with one too many chocolate chip cookies, Frank, a man living in the prison, reclined back, closed his eyes and breathed out in his loose southern accent, “I feel like a free man again.”  – healing…life.

After we said our goodbye, we all walked out of the classroom together – but then 10 of them went right, into their cell block and 10 of us went left towards the exit.

Walking out of the prison that last class, I realized that I was still deathly afraid of prisons.  But it was no longer the people inside that scared me.  Now it was those lifeless walls, and imposing fences and cameras and guns that scared me.  I am scared of those things now because those were the things that prevent bonding, storytelling, the breaking of bread, and healing.

In Matthew 25, Jesus famously says, “Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.”

I think differently about prison ministry now.  There are still those who march into prisons and believe they are bringing Jesus to a dark forgotten place.  Many of those folks do a lot of really great work.  But if I am hearing Matthew 25 correctly, I am not necessarily supposed to bring Jesus into a prison.  He’s there in that dark forgotten place whether I want to visit him there or not.  I don’t go to bring Jesus, I go because he’s already there.

I am excited as the prison ministry here at All Saints will finally be taking its first steps this month.  The prison we have wanted to enter is a minimum security prison in Hillsborough named Orange Correctional Center (OCC). But in July of this past summer there was some bad wiring that caused a fire in the kitchen.  No one was hurt but all of the men had to be moved to other prisons to fix everything up.  They all finally arrived back at OCC in November and regular scheduling started early December.

The ministry we will be taking part in at OCC is called Yokefellows.  It happens every Tuesday night and is an hour every week where volunteers come and just hang out with the men living there.  I have been attending Yokefellows since they restarted in December.  The awesome thing is that there is no real goal other than simply developing relationships.  Just being together, as peers.

Besides myself, there are six others from All Saints who attended the volunteer training (held only once a year) so that we can regularly attend these gatherings.  Since OCC is a minimum security prison, the training certifies us to sponsor some of the privileged men for a day, to take them outside of the prison – even to come to an All Saints church service.  In time, I’m sure you will hear some awesome stories from our volunteers.  And who knows? Maybe others of you will gain an interest to participate in this ministry as well.

This is just the first step in a prison ministry – there are many other things that can be done.  But for now, as we take that first step, I ask that you pray for us, and the men at OCC – that relationships will grow and we all meet Jesus.

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Testimonies for Epiphany: Mentoring Pastors in the Philippines and Beyond – Herman Moldez

17 January 2015

Dear All Saints Church,

At the start of this year God has spoken to me on Isaiah 43:19, “See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland.” What is there to expect in a wasteland? It is not a place to see the work of the Lord. But God has spoken that it is in the desert that God will let the streams of his presence be seen. I  need to patiently look for the new thing that He will do. Pray for the discipline of noticing God’s work in the dry places of mentoring.

The Peer Mentoring Group among the pastors (almost 5,000 meet every month) continues on. I have written a study material based on Leaders Covenant of MentorLink International. Pray that I may finish the last three lessons soon. MentorLink is considering sharing this resource with the international fellowship of MentorLink.

This year, I have another opportunity to develop spiritual mentoring among the 500 staff of International Care Ministries. One area is to integrate spiritual direction in guiding them to live and lead like Jesus. Pray that I will be able to find pastors who will work with me to come alongside these staff–to listen, deepen their insight in the Word of God, be present, and pray with them. I am also writing a weekly resource used for spiritual mentoring conversation. Pray for freshness of heart and insights from the Holy Spirit to let the resources speak to the heart.

In relation to the Philippine Council Evangelical Churches, I am now designated as Mentor At-large in our work with the pastors. Pray that in each of the 14 regions our leaders will be faithful in mentoring their fellow pastors. Pastors are busy. It requires commitment to continue in their mentoring one another.

Often times I wonder: what is the impact of my mentoring ministry? After each mentoring seminar event, participants move on to return to their own ministry. It is like scattering seed and trusting God to let it grow. How wonderful it is when some of them come back to me and share what has happened.

I met Felicidad last Thursday, and she shared: “For 40 years I was do, do, do in my ministry. But since I have been involved in peer mentoring relationships and reading your material, the Lord rebuked me. I spend more time now in being with the Lord and listening with people to guide them to follow Jesus.” Mentoring is like a stream that waters her dry spirit.

I am praying to return to Vietnam again. One of my mentees has been seeking my help to guide him in another training event as he rebuilds new work among the younger leaders. As the Lord provides, I hope to visit them in October 2015 and develop new mentoring training for their new leaders.

Thank you very much for your partnership.

Herman Moldez

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Testimonies for Epiphany: Whoever welcomes a child in My name welcomes Me – Pam Uhlenberg

Some of you may already know our story. Peter and I have been married 50 years and we have 14 children and 18 grandchildren. Of those 18 grandchildren, we have ended up rearing 8 of them. The first four came to us one at a time as a 2, 3, 4, and 5 year old. They are now 19, 17, 16 and 14. Only the 16 year old still lives with us. Five and a half years ago, we took a 10 week old grandchild who still lives with us full time. His three older siblings, 10, 9, and 8, live with us during each school week and return to their mom on the weekend. All four of them were recently baptized at All Saints. Why have we done this? What are we trying to prove, is a question we have been asked. Here is my answer:

Even before we were married, Peter and I dreamed of a large family and of adopted children. Back in those days, grandchildren were not on our minds! We both wanted to welcome into our family children who had no one to belong to. Matthew 18:5 was a special verse to us where Jesus says, “Whoever welcomes a little child like this in My name, welcomes Me.” Because Peter was working on a PhD at UC Berkeley, we were married for 5 years before we had our two birth sons 18 months apart. When they were 5 and 6, we were ready to “follow our dream” to adopt. We intentionally decided not to use our resources for a bigger house, a better car or a large saving account. We felt they were better used to welcome “hard to place” children into our home and believed that God would give us the children that He knew were right for our family.

We didn’t start knowing how far God would take us on this “adoption adventure”. We knew that we could add two more children and have plenty to provide for their needs. So we adopted two biracial daughters one at a time a year apart. Not long after we had our second daughter, and our fourth child, we went to Seoul, Korea for a Sabbatical year since Peter was a Professor at UNC. Little did we know what lay ahead for us! There were so many orphans there that we could not ignore the urge from God and the desire in our hearts to welcome more children into our family even though we were not sure how things would work out financially if we did. So we returned to Chapel Hill one year later with a Korean/American son and daughter. And so the story went as God led us down the adoption road, one child at a time until the total was 13 adopted children.

One of our sweet little boys went to heaven as a two year old but the other 12 are now adults. Our youngest is 25 and our first birth son is 45.

Each adoption has a story of its own, but I have been given 5 minutes to tell the whole story! The story is not all beautiful by the world’s standards, but God has always provided for us. We have not always had plenty of money to care for our children and God has used many fellow believers along the way to step in and provide what we did not have. After our 7th adoption (or 9 children) good friends set up a foundation so that others could make tax deductible contributions to our needs. At one point, in another church, a small group of 6 couples, who were medical and graduate students, stepped in and took us on as a “project”; coming to our house almost daily to help with folding diapers, fixing dinner and washing dishes, as well as babysitting and anything else we needed. At that point, we had three in diapers at the same time and one of them was a special needs daughter with cerebral palsy and brain damage. We ended up with three special needs children who will forever be dependent upon us or someone.

We started out cautiously, wanting “normal, healthy, bright” children who were “hard to place” because of their ethnic background. God grew us into being open to special needs children, a 16 year old and an open adoption. As our children grew to be adolescents, we realized that we were in the position of needing to parent children with emotional and behavioral disorders. One of our adopted sons started committing crimes at age 11. He will be released this June at age 35 from a 10 year prison term. One of our daughters struggled with bulimia, anorexia and suicidal threats during her very stormy adolescence. To this day, she struggles with emotions that can easily go out of control. One of our children struggles with alcoholism and another with depression and substance abuse.

There was a time years ago, when several children were struggling at the same time and Peter and I had to go on a retreat for a weekend to sort out how we were going to continue parenting so many children with so many problems. Up to that point, we used to say “at least the Lord only gives us one problem at time”. But at that time, one had recently been arrested, one was in a psychiatric ward at Duke and one kept running away from home! The Enemy was screaming at me especially, “whatever made you think you could do this”? I’ll never forget that weekend. I left feeling that I didn’t have the strength to return home! Ever! We spent that weekend talking through, with each other and the Lord, why we had ever thought we could “do this “and, by the end of the weekend, we were both filled with awe over how poor our memories were, especially mine, and how adequate God was! With each adoption, we had been confident that we were doing just what God wanted us to do and that He would provide for our needs. Somehow, in the midst of the stress of our children’s crisis filled lives, we had forgotten that. We returned to Chapel Hill with a renewed sense of God’s working in our lives and a much better perspective on our circumstances. With that better perspective, we came to understand that our job was to faithfully care for our children and the rest was God’s job. How crucial it was for us to remember that! In one weekend, God took us from despair and discouragement to confidence in Him and the gift of His peace.

All through the 45 years that Peter and I have been parents, we have sought to share our faith with our children. It’s easy to do that with young children who are excited to follow in our footsteps. Family times, Bible stories, Sunday school, Vacation Bible School, sharing our testimony about when we became Christians, praying with them, have all been part of their lives growing up. As our children grew into teens trying to figure out who they were and how they fit in this world, following our faith has not always been so appealing. Some have stepped back in their search for identity and then returned when they have children of their own. We do not have a family full of children who have chosen to be preachers and missionaries, but we do have children who know they are loved and who are very aware that their parents are fully committed to living for God. We have children who believe God is real and who know the story of what Jesus has done for them. The rest we have to leave to our prayers for them and to the Holy Spirit working in their hearts.

Clearly, our path is not one that God leads every believer to walk, but God has some path for each of us that takes faith and trust and sacrifice and a desire to join with Him in bringing about His purposes in this world. Peter and I have learned that when we choose to follow His lead, no matter how bumpy or messy the path, He will provide for us every step of the way.

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Testimonies for Epiphany: Christ with us in the ordinary, through our stories and in our homes – Katie Straight

When Thomas invited me to share about how I seek to represent “Christ with us” in the everyday—in our home and to my neighbors, my first response was, “Me?! Why me?”  I am broken. Not just in an external cosmetic sense, which is to say I may/may not have showered…since the boys were born…and nothing coming out of our house will ever be Pinterest-worthy (with the exception perhaps of the delicious meals that Justin creates).  I mean I am broken below the surface.  I am wounded and scarred and frightened and struggling to reconcile the facts of this life with the God-man we call All Powerful, Healer, Father.  I often feel more as though I am surviving than thriving, resting somewhere between the courageous foolishness and foolish courage that marks our faith on our best and worst of days—believing in what is unseen when the seen, the reality around us, feels a precariously placed, teetering glass bulb at best, a shattered vessel at worst.

I lost my big brother nine years ago…he died of accidental trauma to the head at the age of 32—it shook me in ways no words can capture.  Since then we have buried my grandfather, then my dad, my grandmother, and my uncle.  In the midst of these losses, Justin and I fell in love and got married…we left the house that he built and moved to the Dominican Republic to work for a Christian microfinance org.  Though we bristled at being called such, we became professional missionaries in the sense that our culture likes to define it.  We sought to spend ourselves on behalf of the “poor” by offering opportunities to escape extreme poverty through business creation. And in the midst of it, we learned more about our own poverty than we knew how to manage.

Besides the externals—we were nearly washed away in a Haitian river, I survived an accidental lethal overdose of malaria medicine that had me in a Dominican hospital for three nights not knowing if I was going to live, and if so, at what diminished capacity—besides these external stresses, God was also revealing to us that our internal brokenness, our stubborn desire to do life on our own terms, our unwillingness to walk through past pain, our inability to receive and thus also show His grace to others, was killing us. The frail foundation of our marriage crumbled around us and we were forced to pull the emergency chord and come home to the US to seek good counsel and a strong community to come around us. We fought for our marriage and we continue to fight for our marriage, holding onto God’s promises and His power when we ourselves were and are too weak.

With each loss, wound, and disappointment I have wrestled with the truth that God is all loving and yet not afraid of pain—I have screamed, wept, cursed, demanded explanations, and, much more rarely, on my best of days, rested in the promise that all our tears will one day be wiped away and all things, ALL THINGS will be redeemed.  I have begged Jesus to show himself as healer of my wounds and choked back tears whenever the praise song, “Blessed be the Lord” asks my heart to say, “on the road marked with suffering, when there’s pain in the offering, blessed be the Lord.” I am a cracked vessel, no doubt.

Why do I share this with you when I’ve been invited to share practical, ordinary ways to manifest the spirit of Epiphany, the God with us, Jesus in flesh?  Because Jesus came to the broken and the thirsty and allowed himself to be broken and thirsty for us.  “I thirst,” he said on the cross.  “I thirst.  I know what it is to thirst.”  And I know of no other way to share Christ than to first be honest about my brokenness and my need for Him.  I cannot invite anyone to drink the Living Water without admitting that I am desperate for it too. I cannot say, “Come, YOU need this water.  Oh no, I’m good.” No, I need to lap it up in my hands, water splashing down my face and neck, and say, “Come! Drink with me! I am thirsty and you are thirsty!”  …and that only happens when I’m willing to be honest and transparent with my life and my story—which is really God’s story isn’t it?  His power at work in my, in our, weaknesses?

Because you also are broken.  Forgive me for being brash enough to say this when many of you I don’t know personally, but I am confident of this. You also are broken.  You are wounded and you carry scars that may or may not be visible to the naked eye…disappointments, losses, physical and emotional pains, fear, loneliness—evidence of a life lived on this side of the here and not yet.  You thirst for living water and the food that will not spoil.  And it is our meeting one another, broken and thirsty, at the foot of the cross that unites us into community if we are to be one at all, isn’t it?

I do not believe we have a voice at all until we are willing to voice this.  Not only to ourselves…but to our neighbors too.  We must be willing to be seen as we are, scars and uncertainties exposed alongside the glory of God at work in us.

And it is through this being seen that our neighbors begin to allow us to see them, to love them by truly seeing them, by recognizing their pain and validating it as something that our Father sees and cares about.  “Comfort, comfort my people,” He tells us through Isaiah 40. “Speak tenderly to Jerusalem and tell her that her hard service has been completed, that her sin has been paid for, that she has received from the Lord’s hand double for all her sin.”” Our call first is to honor the pain. And then to share a vision for redemption—not through ourselves but through Him who is our living water.

To be honest, this season of my life has been the most challenging by way of feeling as though I am in any way, shape or form expressing “Christ with us.”  In the past, however misguided my assumptions, I could lean heavily on my work as my ministry…whether working internationally in development or working locally at Jobs for Life, my professional investments have provided me a comfortable and concrete “outlet” for my “good works,” a way to safely share the love of Christ as occupation…with deliverables and goals, neat and tidy—and rather invulnerable.

Now, as a full-time stay-at-home mom to our twin boys, I don’t have a list of works that make me feel like a good Christian.  If anything, I feel pretty beat up at the end of long days of seeing all too clearly my own shortcomings.  There is nothing like two crying babies to reveal the depths of ones own depravity. But His promise is that He is in me and works through my weaknesses…in the ordinary as much as the fantastic.

So I find that now I have to listen harder and lean into the Spirit more to hear how he wants to order my day…To take time in the morning while the boys sleep to be with my Father and sit with his Word and pray that His love is what the boys (and Justin) will experience through me.  And to apologize to them, though perhaps they do not understand it, when it is my sin that rears its head more readily.  To be open and willing to sit with our neighbors when they pop over unannounced…to say yes to the invitation to walk, or come over for a glass of wine when all my introverted mind wants to do is shut down and all my body wants to do is sleep.  To be intentional about trying to live in an open home, where neighbors and friends feel welcome—to hold it loosely—God’s house for us to share, just as our stories are God’s for us to share.

And so it is too with hosting neighborhood pizza nights or Thankspigging, our annual come-as-you-are and bring something to share party for neighbors, friends, and total strangers.  We provide the “beer, wine and swine” we like to say, you bring something to share.  At the heart of it is God’s command in Deut 14 for the Israelites to take their tithes and use them to have a big party in thanksgiving to God.  To actually trust him enough as a good and loving Father to throw a party in his honor to say thanks, to dance, to get to know some new neighbors and share some real joy with them.  Because our Father likes parties and our Jesus is the Master of the Feast.  It’s so simple and so imperfect, but people come, a contribution in hand—deviled eggs or blueberry pie—and we all together make it a party and meet new people and forge friendships and maybe even forget the burdens we carry for a few hours of celebration and thankfulness. And I do believe that Christ is there with us.

As He is here with us now and in the most mundane of days, in the most inglorious of tasks, in our homes and neighborhoods—Because His spirit is always alive in us, testifying on our behalf…not despite our brokenness and thirst, but through it.  Thank God.  By his grace, we are invited as a church to be to willing to share our stories, admit our thirst and believe that God can use us exactly as we are, exactly where we are.

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Testimonies for Epiphany: Refugee Settlement in Durham – Joe Adelman

Epiphany, the manifestation of Christ in the flesh.  Aren’t you glad that we do this epiphany thing together? We manifest the body of Christ together as we each make small decisions to serve others rather than ourselves.  It is so easy to go through a day and mindlessly serve ourselves. I have done that without effort for more days than I care to admit.  But in John chapter 4 we read that “Jesus had to pass through Samaria.”  This is a strange phrase loaded with intentionality.   Later it all makes sense when we read of his service to the Samaritan woman at the well.  Likewise, Thomas encouraged us last week to make conscious decisions to serve others and so live into our collective lives as the manifestation of Christ’s body.

Teri and I were first introduced to the needs of refugees in our community in 2010 when a couple who were volunteering with World Relief were moving away and encouraged us to take over their role as helpers for Saw Min and his family, refugees from Myanmar.  We stopped by Saw’s apartment in Oak Creek Village and after a few awkward meetings we slowly began to understand Saw’s broken English enough to assist his family with some of their practical needs.  We set up a TV and antenna so they could learn English and access children’s programs on UNC-TV.  We had them enrolled in English classes and we walked with them through a frightening medical emergency.  Over time a very comfortable relationship developed where Saw and his family could relax and visit with us or call us for advice when they did not understand something.  It was humbling to see how much this family had endured (persecution in their homeland, mistreatment and imprisonment in their country of refuge, and the birth of their only child in prison while Mom was on a starvation diet).  Yet they persevered and soon both held jobs at odd hours so one was always home with their child.

This past fall we were reminded once again of the needs of refugees and immigrants through Paul Watkins’ spiritual formations class: “Welcoming The Stranger: Discovering God’s Heart for Immigrants.”  Paul guided us through countless scriptures in every part of the Bible that declare God’s concern for the immigrants in our midst.

This class caused me to reconnect with World Relief Durham last month where I learned of their continuing need for volunteers in their mission to resettle and empower refugees in our community.  I agreed to work within All Saints to build Good Neighbor Teams.  These teams consist of 4 to 12 people (these could be individuals, families, or small groups) who commit to support the resettlement of a single refugee or refugee family.  They acquire the necessary items to furnish an apartment and then set up that apartment and purchase a week’s supply of food, often on short notice.  They greet the newcomers at the airport and transport them to their apartment and assist them with settling in.  They visit the newcomers once per week and assist with one or more resettlement tasks such as practicing language skills, acquiring medical care, or searching for employment.  The State Department provides a small stipend that supports a refugee family for about 90 days so the need for volunteers is great.

Refugees are a diverse group.  Teri and I taught English to an elderly lady from Napal who had never handled a writing instrument.  We also taught highly educated refugees from Egypt and Iraq who had to work menial jobs because their degrees were not recognized in the United States.

One neat aspect of this opportunity is that, as Christ’s body, the Good Neighbor Team works together to build relationships and empower a terribly vulnerable segment of our society.  No single person needs to do it all.  Everyone can contribute from their own unique talents and within their own available time.

During this epiphany season I encourage you to consider if this is one of those intentional decisions that would help you, your family, or your small group live into being the beautiful manifestation of Christ’s body.

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All Saints Stewardship Reminder

2015 Pledge Card_Electronic
2015 Ministry Commitment Pledge

Dear Members of All Saints Church,

As we enter this advent season, with joy and anticipation we look forward to celebrating together the birth of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ!

In many ways this has been a pivotal year for All Saints Church. With the dramatic changes that occurred in 2013, there were those who wondered how our church could survive this difficult season. But survive we did! Average attendance is now 209, almost at the level it was at the start of 2013, and there is rich worship, deeper community, and exciting ministry at the heart of the church! Though we set a challenging budget of $459,842 for 2014 (including for the first time a specific budget item for saving for a future building), we have already received $362,843 –  that is 79% of our full year’s budget. Most excitingly, we rejoice in Thomas Kortus becoming our new permanent rector, backed by new leadership in ministry coordination, worship, and children’s programs!

For the vestry, this is also a time when we close out the finances for the year and begin the process of putting together the budget for the coming year. We want to encourage you to continue giving faithfully and fulfill your financial pledges to the church in the remainder of 2014. Many of us make special donations this time of the year, and we want to encourage you, as you do so, to consider including All Saints Church. It would be a tremendous encouragement to begin the new year having fully met this year’s budget.

For those of you who have not done so already, we ask you to please fill out and return your 2015 Financial Pledge Card and Ministry Commitment Brochure this coming Sunday. This is critical for us to know how to set the budget and programs for the coming year. Our goal is for everyone to participate in the stewardship process. Thus far we have received 39 financial pledge cards, still well short of the 63 cards we received last year. We have also only received 31 Ministry Commitment Brochures.

We realize that not every household is in a season of life when they can contribute 10% of their income to the local church, but we long for all members of the body to be committed and intentionally giving and serving the church with what the Lord has given them. The 2015 Financial Pledge Card and Ministry Commitment Brochure will be included in your worship guide this Sunday for your convenience. These forms are also included in electronic form at the top of this post. Please take the time to fill out these important forms and return them to the offering plate this coming Sunday.

May your upcoming celebration of the birth of our Lord be filled with love and joy.

In Christ,

Mark Harbaugh – Senior Warder

Niel Ransom – Treasurer

The Rev Thomas Kortus – Rector


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ESL Ministry to our Oak Creek Village Neighbors

The fall ESL (English as a Second Language) program hosted by The Church of the Good Shepherd is kicking off with a morning coffee open house this Saturday, September 13, from 10:00-10:45 a.m.! (The Church of the Good Shepherd, 3741 Garrett Road, Durham). Join us and other local churches who are passionate about interacting with and ministering to persons who would like to improve their English language skills – primarily refugees and immigrants from the Oak Creek Village community.

The open house will provide an overview of the history of the program, give a description of a typical teaching session, and identify specific needs for the fall session. Volunteer teachers, assistant teachers, conversation partners, and folks to offer hospitality and child care are needed. Volunteers must attend training on September 20 at 9:00 a.m., and be available for eight of the scheduled Saturday mornings 8:30 a.m. – 11:30 a.m., September 27 to December 13, with a break for Thanksgiving. For more information, please contact Dick McKown at by September 15.

Hope to see you there!

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