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  • Writer's pictureLeeAnn Witzigman


As the fog of our excitement and possibility began to lift, we saw clearly this was not the moment for us to buy a church. And with a little raw spot exposed on my heart, we headed over to my parent’s house for dinner. In a rare quiet moment, with my dad all to myself, he tenderly listened as I poured my heart out over this church (the representation of my zeal for the Lord’s temple), what it meant to me (a new horizon and a faith-filled, high-risk adventure with Jesus), the physical place of its location (where Patrick’s grandparents have lived for decades and where his parents currently reside), and then tearfully how God had gently said No. Then my dad looked into my eyes and said something I know I’ll never forget … “Why would you buy a church, when you already live inside of one?” That declaration of bold assurance nearly knocked me over. He went on to remind me of the glorious evenings we’ve shared together worshipping by the fire in my backyard with our passionate brothers and sisters. And the mornings my mom and I have spent teaching and ministering to our faithful sisters who gather in my living room every week to receive the love and impartation of whatever the Holy Spirit has poured into our hearts. There have been countless times, I’ve opened my door to receive weary and burdened souls who need prayer and a touch of healing from Heaven … oftentimes, they’ve been revived by God’s presence with just one foot crossing the threshold into the sanctuary He has crafted here on Bennington Lane. And perhaps the most impactful ministry is found in the hours that have turned into days of relentless, unceasing, and completely abandoned prayer and praise that has taken over my home for many years. What a revelation of the modern-day tabernacle of God and how He fills the spaces where doors open to receive His children!


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