Jesus doesn’t say, “Try to be the light.” He declares, “You are the light of the world.”
That distinction changes everything.

So often, we live as if we’re still trying to prove ourselves to God — trying to be “good enough,” “faithful enough,” or “useful enough.” But in this passage, Jesus isn’t asking for effort; He’s revealing identity. If you belong to Him, His Spirit already lives in you. And when His Spirit lives in you, His light shines through you.

Love often begins with something simple — noticing the needs of those around us. When we bring those needs to God in prayer and take the next step of obedience, He uses what we offer to show His compassion to others. This reflection explores how God turns ordinary moments into miracles of love.

We live in a world more connected than ever before — phones, screens, and messages reaching across time zones in seconds. Yet, somehow, it feels like we’ve never been more divided. The story of the Good Samaritan reminds us that the heart of following Jesus is learning to bridge those divides, to love across boundaries, and to show mercy even when it’s uncomfortable.

When the religious expert asked Jesus, “Who is my neighbor?” he wasn’t looking for clarity. He was looking for limits. He wanted to make love manageable — to draw a line around who he had to care about and who he could safely ignore. We do the same thing sometimes. We draw invisible boundaries around our compassion. We say, “I’ll love them if they think like me, vote like me, live like me.” But Jesus demolishes those lines.

There is a kind of tired that sleep cannot fix. It sits deep in the soul, where worries and responsibilities stack higher than our strength can hold. Most of us live at a low hum of exhaustion, moving from one task to the next while quietly wishing for peace.

The truth is that we were never meant to live this way.

God is growing His church — and we’re making room for more!

Starting next Sunday, October 12, we’ll begin gathering for two services: 9:15 & 11:00 AM.

Work often feels like it’s about deadlines, bosses, or paychecks. But Paul reminds us that our true audience is God. Whether you’re a student in the classroom, an employee at the office, or a manager leading a team, your daily labor has dignity because it is service to Christ.

Paul’s words were radical in his day. He spoke to both slaves and masters, reminding them that they shared the same Master in heaven. In doing so, he elevated the dignity of every worker and reshaped the way leaders were to view their responsibility. His message was clear: all work matters to God, and all people are called to honor Him through it.

One of the biggest mistakes we make as Christians is putting our lives into two boxes. We’ve got the “God box”—church, prayer, Bible reading, serving. And then we’ve got the “real life box”—our jobs, our chores, our kids, our bills. But that divide doesn’t exist. Paul says in 1 Corinthians 10:31, whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God. Whatever you do. That covers it all.

Work is part of God’s good design, but ever since the fall, it has been marked by both frustration and futility. Genesis 3 describes how Adam and Eve’s disobedience led to the ground being cursed, producing “thorns and thistles” alongside every harvest. It’s a picture of how all human labor is now touched by brokenness: the same soil that produces fruit also produces frustration. But the Bible never leaves us there…

Most of us have felt the weight of work. Mondays come too quickly, weekends fly by, and the dream of retirement can sometimes feel like the only light at the end of the tunnel. We live in a culture that often sees work as a “necessary evil” — something we have to do in order to get to the things we really want to do. But when we open the Bible, we see something very different.

When Jesus invited His disciples to follow Him, He was upfront about what it would require. He didn’t tell them to simply enjoy the blessings of God or to follow when it was convenient. He said they must deny themselves, take up their cross daily, and follow Him.

That can sound intimidating. A cross is heavy. A cross is painful. A cross is costly. But what Jesus was teaching wasn’t just about moments of dramatic sacrifice or persecution. Most often, it’s about the daily choices we make when life feels ordinary.

The Christian life is full of tension—what we call the “already and not yet.” On one hand, if you’ve placed your trust in Jesus, you’re already forgiven, already made new, and already secure in Him. On the other hand, we’re still waiting. Waiting for the day when Christ returns, when sin and pain are finally gone, when everything is made right.

That waiting can be difficult. For someone who’s new to faith, it might feel confusing—if Jesus has already saved me, why do I still struggle? For someone who has followed Christ for years, it can feel frustrating—why hasn’t God fixed this yet?

When Jesus stepped onto the scene, He announced something brand new: “The Kingdom of God has come near.” He wasn’t just another prophet or teacher pointing to a distant hope. He was bringing heaven close. Wherever Jesus went, the Kingdom went with Him. That means the reign of God isn’t just something far off in the future; it’s already breaking into our world today.

When we take communion, we’re doing more than eating a little piece of bread and sipping from a tiny cup. We’re stepping into something Jesus designed to pull our eyes in two directions at the same time—backward to the cross and forward to the Kingdom.

Looking back, we remember what Jesus did for us. That bread in your hand? It’s a picture of His body, given for you. That cup? It represents His blood, poured out for the forgiveness of your sins. And this isn’t just about recalling a Bible story—it’s about realizing this is your story. He took your place. He bore your punishment. He broke your chains.

One of the most powerful truths in the Christian life is also one of the hardest to truly grasp: you already have redemption. It is not something you’re working toward. It is not something that hangs in the balance based on your behavior or your emotions. It is already yours if your faith is in Jesus. That means you have been bought back, rescued, and made right with God—not by your efforts but by the blood of Christ.

This truth challenges us because we often do not feel redeemed. We fall short. We slip into old habits. We get tired. We wonder if God is disappointed. But Scripture tells us that before the world was even formed, God chose us.

There’s a tension we all feel, whether we talk about it out loud or not. It’s the tension between what we know is true about God—and what we’re still waiting to see in full. Theologians call this the “already and not yet.” It means that God has already redeemed us through Christ, but we’re not yet living in the fully restored world He’s promised.

You can feel that ache, can’t you?
When you see tragedy.
When your body breaks down.
When your heart breaks.
When the world feels off and you instinctively say, “This is not the way it’s supposed to be.”

And guess what? You're right. It’s not.

Some songs have a way of stirring something inside of us. We might not have lived the story behind the lyrics, but we understand the emotion. Whether it is the ache of longing, the hope of reconciliation, or the beauty of unconditional love, music often speaks to the soul in a way plain words cannot.

Let’s start here. Love does not originate with us. It begins with God. The Bible tells us God is love, and He has always existed in loving community as Father, Son, and Spirit. That means love was not something He created later, it has always been part of who He is. When we experience love or give love to someone else, we are reflecting God's nature, whether we realize it or not.

But here’s where it gets personal. Jesus didn’t say to love "a" God. He said to love the Lord "your" God. That one little word, “your,” makes all the difference.

We live in a culture that encourages compartmentalization. You have your work life, your family life, your social life, your faith life. Most of us have learned to manage these separate areas just to function. But over time, those boxes can start to feel disconnected. You might find yourself being one version of you at work, another at home, and someone else entirely at church. That kind of fragmentation leads to exhaustion and, eventually, to spiritual compromise.

When Jesus answered the Pharisees’ question about the greatest commandment, He didn’t just provide good theology. He offered a way of life.

Romans 12 opens with a single, powerful phrase: “in view of God’s mercy.” That’s the lens. That’s the starting point. Everything Paul says after that flows from this one reality: that God, in His grace, didn’t leave us where we were. He saw our sin, our need, our brokenness… and He came close. He showed us mercy.

So, how do you respond to mercy like that?

We live in a world that constantly tells us who we are based on what we’ve done, or what’s been done to us. It’s easy to let that define us. But Paul spends the first 11 chapters of Romans laying out a different story. It’s a story that says: God sees you through mercy, not merit. Through grace, not guilt. Through the Spirit, not your shame.