by Mary York
Honesty usually comes easily to me, but telling this story has not. It’s hard to admit that I, who was raised in an Orthodox Presbyterian church, brought up in a Christian family, steeped in good doctrine, and surrounded by Christian friends, fell away from the faith.
I didn’t expect to. I’m an obsessive rule-follower. My skirts go to the knee, and I still address adults as “Mr.” and “Mrs.” The only tattoo I have is a Czech phrase taken from the statue of a martyred Reformer that stood in the village outside Prague where I served for two years as a missionary associate for the Orthodox Presbyterian Church. I may have struggled with aspects of my Christian walk, but my faith had never wavered. Not once. Read more
by Judith M. Dinsmore
Forty years ago, in late May 1979, the general assembly meeting at Geneva College let out early. The commissioners eagerly jumped in their cars or scrambled to book flights home for the same afternoon. OP pastor Edwards Elliott, however, headed to the campus library to study.
The next day, as planned, he flew from Pittsburgh to Chicago. When he landed at O’Hare, he was late for the connecting flight and began to sprint across the airport. Read more