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Does God predestine people to go to Hell?

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How can a loving God send people to hell before the beginning of time? What gives him this authority? All this and more tackled in this Podcast!

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Should women lead in Churches?

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What does the bible have to say about Women Pastors? Do we have a bible framework for females as pastors and leaders over Men? In this episode, we tackle leadership in the church?

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Can everyone speak in tongues?

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What does the bible say about Spiritual Gifts? In particular, Is the gift of ‘speaking in tongues’ for everyone. In this question, we tackle the debate surrounds gifts of the Holy Spirit?

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How should Christians react to Kanye West?

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In this podcast, our team address the question, How should Christians react to Kanye West. Kanye West is a world-renowned rapper and producer who recently confessed a belief in Jesus Christ. Despite this, controversy surrounds his conversation.

You can join in with the conversation online #ThePulse

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How should Christians react to Cults?

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In the episode of The Pulse, we discuss what a Christian response to cults should be. In a time where cults appear to be grabbing headlines, It’s important to be aware of a Christian response.

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Should Christians Believe the Genesis Account of Creation?

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Welcome to the Genesis of this podcast. The Pulse Podcast is brought to you by Our God Given Mission. This podcast is your chance to send in questions to the OGGM team who will answer pulse-raising questions, engaging with some of the most difficult questions Christians face.

In this episode, we consider whether Christians should believe the Genesis account of creation.

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VISION2020 – POSTPONED

DUE TO COVID-19, VISION 2020 HAS NOW BEEN POSTPONED TO JUNE 2021

#Vision2020 is set to be OGGM’s fourth annual retreat and like all of our previous retreats, Vision 2020 is designed with students, young adults, and professionals in mind. Over 5 days, 200 people will gather to ask the question, what would happen if we could see how God sees. If we could see our strengths, struggles, blessings, jobs, gifts how God sees them. How would your life change?

Why does ‘Vision’ matter?

Perspective matters. The way we view things, and the lens in which we do so matters. Our vision, perspective, and lens are all integral in our decisions and determine how we live our lives. This is what we find all throughout scripture, that perspective is often far more important than reality. The prophet Jeremiah exclaims “you foolish and senseless people, who have eyes but do not see, who have ears but do not hear:” (Jerimiah 5:21. The Psalmist David would tarry in prayer that God would “open my eyes to see the wonderful truths in your law” (Ps. 119:18). In Ephesians 1:18, Paul instructs us to see with the eyes of our hearts. Proverb reads that without vision, or revelation, the people perish (Prov. 29:18). Vision of immense importance to God.

Vision isn’t simply what we see, but it is also the way in which we see. In other words, Vision is the lens in which we interpret everything which surrounds us. The problem is, our vision has been distorted. One of the fundamental differences between the believer and the unbeliever is revealed by the way in which we interpret the events which happen around us. The unbeliever uses the lens ‘self’ and interprets events through the standards of the world. The call of the gospel is for the unbeliever to receive a new sight, to see how God sees, to see with His perspective. This is what we witness with Pauls’s radical encounter with God on the road to Damascus. Coupled with a new name, he was also given new sight. Saul was struck blind on the Damascus road as a demonstration of his need to see things in a new way. For the first time in his life, Paul began to see how God sees!

This is the heart behind Vision 2020. The week is going to be focused on how can we gain a kingdom perspective. During a time where everything around us is vying for our attention, where we are all managing our various pursuits, passions, and interests, the question that remains is; Are we seeing as God sees? Are we willing to lay aside our preconceptions in order to adopt the mindset of God? At #Vision2020 we will seek to answer the following question; how do we humble ourselves enough to see as God sees and as a result, love the world as He intended for us to love it?

When is #Vision2020?

The retreat will take place from Monday 22nd June 2020 to Friday 26th June 2020.

Click Here to Get Your Tickers Here!

No Fixed Abode: Quitting Home Ownership

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A little over a year ago, I quit my job, sold my home and gave away 99% of my possessions so that I could travel the world. It was the most exciting thing I’ve ever done.

To me, quitting a great job was very scary (No more income! A large gap in my employment history! Burning bridges right, left & centre! Throwing away a fabulous career!) but I’ve come to realise that for most people, that isn’t the scary part. The thing that everyone asks about — the part that they can’t quite get their heads around — is that I don’t have anywhere to live.

Then his spiel took a turn to a personal testimony of his experience with IF. He’d burnt more fat than he previously could with any other diet. He felt happier, healthier and more energetic. He’d streamlined his morning routine and was saving money by no longer buying late-night snacks. All because he didn’t eat for 16 hours of the day.

Sitting there, I felt like I was given one of those ‘too good to be true’ offers than lead to you joining a cult. I was sceptical. It sounded great and all that, but I’m a breakfast guy. Besides, it sounds like a fad diet that I wouldn’t be able to maintain. I’d drop some weight while doing it, then I’d put it back on when I realised I couldn’t maintain it.

The Journey Begins

A month later, I conceded that I might as well give it a go. Over the past few years, I had been carrying a few extra kilograms that I had tried to drop. For the six months prior, I had been going to the gym regularly to try and burn it off. In those six months, I had shifted the scales slightly, but not enough considering the work I was putting in. Intermittent fasting became a very tempting option. I thought I’d give it a go.

I spent a lot of time researching the 16:8 approach to fasting. Honestly, there are a lot of mixed things out there, with a lot of evidence supporting it’s proclaimed benefits, while others are not as sold on it. The overarching point I found was to give it a go and see if it works for you.

The first couple of weeks were tough. My body was so conditioned to eat at certain times and I had to fight hard to resist. This was one of the big learning experiences for me. I had to remind myself that I don’t need to eat right now and that it was my body responding to a change in routine. I decided to be as strict as possible in the first month, knowing that it takes about 4–5 weeks to establish a new routine, and it worked.

The Unexpected Benefit of Writing Letters to My Kids Every Month

I started writing letters to my kids once a month when they were born.

My boys are now 16 and 14, so they have 192 and 168 letters respectively. I’m not done yet, either: I promised to continue writing to them until they turn 18.

I won’t lie and tell you I started these letters for altruistic reasons. I had selfish goals: Because I left a successful career to raise my boys full-time, I planned to provide a kick-ass chronological history of our time together so I could justify my stay-at-home-mom status.

I figured that if I documented everything I did with them and for them from birth to age 18, they would remember me as the greatest mother that ever lived in the history of the universe.

I wrote about how I pumped breast milk for a solid six months. Best mom ever! I wrote about how my son started talking in full sentences at age two because I read books and sang songs to him every night to help develop early language skills. Mother of the year!

But a devastating thing happened on the way to me documenting my star-mom status: Their dad died.

I couldn’t possibly know, when I began my letter-writing campaign, that my selfish goal would turn into a benevolent one. My monthly letters evolved into a memorial for a story we never expected to end so soon.

Now, whenever memories fade and the boys need a reminder of their father’s love and devotion, they read the letters.

It’s all right there in black and white.

You can read the moment we enter the teenage-angst phase because my letters have less of an “I’m so lucky to be your mom!” tone and more of a “please, Jesus, just help me get through the day” tone.

I didn’t sugarcoat our struggles, but I didn’t display them in their entirety either.

During one rebellious and unmanageable year of my older son’s adolescence, I wrote nothing at all. I had nothing positive to say. It was all too much to handle as a solo parent. Plus, I didn’t want my rage bleeding all over the page. It would be too easy for me to criticize my son’s abysmal choices and for him to base his worth on bad decisions made in a blip on the radar screen of his youth.

It’s also hard to write about good times when eye rolls, grunts, and general unpleasantness littered our days. But, that’s part of being a parent. So I rekindled my writing by summarizing the next year instead of documenting every cruel, harsh, and bitter disagreement. I didn’t sugarcoat our struggles, but I didn’t display them in their entirety either.


I promised my husband that I would do my best to keep his memory alive. I’m so thankful the letters serve two purposes: One is to help my sons remember their dad. The second is to remember how we made it through.

But, as I got caught up in all of my husband’s remembering, I’m not sure I conveyed how much of my heart and soul I put into these boys, too.

Moving forward after my husband’s death was no small feat. Grief is a bitch and I experienced the boys’ anger in all its manifestations. Maybe they’ll continue blaming me for maternal wrongdoings without understanding how hard it was to pick up the pieces as a young widow and only parent. Maybe they won’t. Only time will tell.

I tried my best to write about the realities of living with death and grief and sorrow. I didn’t pretend we weren’t hurting but I didn’t dwell in victimization either. I hope I’ve communicated, after heartbreak and healing, how much I love being their mom.

Whenever memories fade and the boys need a reminder of my love and devotion, they can read their letters.

It’s all right there in black and white.

The Vacation I Became a Parent to My Father

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In Hawaii, I walked around in white pedal pushers, carrying a large, white straw purse, (even larger than my mom’s) thinking that all the boys would surely notice me. Well, if they did it wasn’t as anything but a flat-chested twelve- year-old carrying a purse way too big for her and smiling like a complete dork.

In New York, I was a bit more sophisticated. Sort of. I actually fell in love and had my heart broken all in one night. This incident caused my father to go into a rage and want to go kill whoever had made his baby girl cry so horribly. (The closest I got to a Baby moment.)

When he found out I was sobbing hysterically because I would never see that boy again, he wanted to kill me!

But no matter what age I was when we traveled, I knew my father would get us to our destination safely. He would take care of everything (hotels, car rentals, food, souvenirs, fun) while we were on our vacation. And see to it that we arrived home in one piece.

Now, that’s not to say that I didn’t lose my patience a bit. Especially when my father was asking for a cocktail only a few minutes after we had taken our seats on the plane. But then I couldn’t blame him.

The first-class passengers were drinking wine and eating hors d’oeuvres, while the coach passengers were still boarding. The combined age of those first-class passengers was probably only a few years past that of my dad’s.

We arrived safely in Mexico and as I had promised my father, there was a wheelchair waiting to take us through customs. And as I had also promised there were beautiful sunrises (well, I guess I didn’t have much say in that event) and delicious huevos rancheros (again not something I prepared) and many wonderful hours playing cards, drinking margaritas and laughing.

can take credit for some of those.

Upon returning home safely, my father grasped my hands, looked me in the eye and said, “Thank you so much. We made it home safe and sound, didn’t we?”

“Yes, we did,” I said. “But you don’t have to thank me.”

To be honest, it was difficult at times. Traveling with elderly parents presents many obstacles.

But the truth is, now that my father is gone, I wish I could do it all over again.