Ken Medema
In a number of ways we are spoken to, called. Sometimes it is an earthquake, a fire, a whirlwind. Sometimes it is a 14 y.o. girl who asks us to dance. Sometimes it is our own heart saying ‘yes’.
Sometimes it is a Ken getting us to stand up and dance and wave our arms around and laugh together.
God’s voice is not always prophetic. Sometimes it is laugh-inducing and loud. Sometimes it is a gentle, reassuring story of the eternity of us and of love and the gift of a dragon fly. Sometimes it is our own stories.
One of the things Ken teaches is how to listen. He hears music in our words. What do we hear from one another? From ourselves?
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