Years ago I remember my pastor giving a sermon on forgiveness and bitterness. I was in college, still recently removed from a fairly nasty church situation, and, well, I was struggling a lot with bitterness. After church, I was talking with some friends when my pastor, who I was very close to and sometimes would banter with in a playful way, walked by, elbowed me, and said “that sermon was for you, Meador.” I winced, then laughed, and didn’t think much of it. I knew he loved me, I knew he cared about me and knew me deeply (far better than any other pastor had), and that these kind of playful jabs were part of how we sometimes related to each other.
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