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“What If ‘All Have Sinned’ Was Actually Good News?”

Alright, friends, let’s dive into today’s Pondering. We’re checking out Romans 3:23-24.
And, hopefully by now you know the drill, right?
We’ve all heard it, maybe even memorized it.
But have we felt it? Like, really felt it?
Like, does it resonate in your very bones?

“For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and all are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus.”  

So, let’s break this down, shall we?
“All have sinned.”
Okay, that’s not exactly a headline you’d put on a motivational poster, is it?
We’re all in the same boat. Nobody’s got it all figured out.
Nobody’s got their act together perfectly.
We’ve all missed the mark.
We’ve all stumbled.
We’ve all made messes that we can’t clean up.

And you know what? (and perhaps here’s the hard part to accept…)
That’s okay.
Because here’s the amazing headline, the part that flips the whole script:
“and all are justified freely by his grace.“

“Freely.”
Let that word sink in.
It’s not about how many good deeds you’ve racked up.
It’s not about how clean your record is.
It’s not about climbing some cosmic ladder of worthiness.
It’s a gift. A straight-up, no-strings-attached, radical gift.

See, we live in a world obsessed with earning,
with proving ourselves, with measuring up.
We’re constantly bombarded with messages telling us we’re not enough.
Not smart enough, not successful enough, not spiritual enough.
But Paul, he’s right here saying something totally different.
He’s saying, “You? Yes, you. You’re already accepted. You’re already loved. You’re already forgiven.”

It’s like, imagine you’re a kid, and you’ve just made a colossal mess. (I think we all know what that feels like)
We’ve spilled the blue paint all down the carpeted stairs,
We’ve broken the family keepsake off the shelf…the whole nine yards.
You’re bracing for the storm, right?
But instead, your parent looks at you, smiles, and says, “It’s alright. We’ll clean it up together.”

That’s grace, folks. It’s messy, it’s unexpected, and it’s utterly transformative.

And through Jesus, “the redemption that came by Christ Jesus,” this grace is made real.
It’s not some abstract concept. It’s a person.
A person who stepped into our mess (picked up the broom and dustpan)
who took on our brokenness, who showed us what true love looks like.

So, here’s the invitation: stop trying so hard.
Stop trying to earn your worth.
Stop trying to fix yourself all the time.
Just breathe. Let go. Receive the gift.
Yes, the Holy Spirit will still work in us and convict us,
Yes, there’s still work that will take place later…but just for now:
Breathe.
Be Still.

Why?

Because you are loved.
You are accepted.
You are forgiven. And you?
You are enough. Just as you are.

So, live in that freedom. Live in that grace.
And let that grace spill out onto the world around you.
Because the world needs it. We all need it.

And remember, you’re not alone in this.
We’re all in this together. And together, we’re going to figure it out…with the help of the Holy Spirit.
Grace and Peace!
-Pastor Scott.

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One More Phone Call (A Poem)

The phone, a black slab,
a dormant beetle, lies face down.
Not ringing.
Not his number, a ghost-echo from the 417,
the voicemails I can’t erase,
like frost-flowers breathed on glass.

He’d call, a rumble in the static,
a long highway road leading to his recliner,
a slow drawl about the cardinals at the feeder,
the ice cream melting down the cone.
He’d tell me that joke again,
“Have you heard about the husband whose wife died in Israel?”

I’d heard it before, but I’d welcome it again,
He would pray with me, emotions over the line
passion and a need for salvation.
He knew, of course,
knew the shared grief of the earth,
the way the light thins,
the way the old dog sleeps deeper.

Now, the silence is a thicket,
a bramble where his voice should be,
a phantom limb of the receiver.
I reach for it,
the way a blind man reaches for a familiar door,
only to find a wall,
cold and unyielding.

No more stories of the ARC
and of Salvation Army Officership
although it’s all still coursing in our veins
– this passion to serve and love…
No more humorous bantering about the Cubbies, or the Chiefs or
those cheese heads up there in Green Bay.
His knit-yellow and green stocking cap
worn proudly on his head…

The phone, a black stone,
a monument to the void,
a reflection of the temporary
And I?
a little bit less than I was before those old tired jokes,
there is a loss I cannot put to words
a lost connection,
no more calls from 417
but this too is temporary.
It’s a silence that stretches, for a time
a continent of grief but not the whole of it,
Something else, more constant
and everlasting is just on the horizon

But perhaps just tonight
I’m getting ‘mad’
and my kids will be happy
and we’ll think of him.
Thanks, Grandpa, GrandStan
Pawpaw…so many other names
these terms of endearment.


I’ll see you again
and we can get mad
all over again,
and you can regale me with
One more awful joke
that you’ve told me before.

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Sand Castles and Solid Ground…

Greetings, my friends, and happy Tuesday (or whenever you read this).
I want to talk about something that’s been bouncing around in my head, something that, honestly, just keeps coming back like a good melody, an earworm that won’t quit… the same tune on repeat somewhere in the recesses of this brain of mine.
You know that kind of tune, right? The one that gets under your skin and makes you think, “Yeah, that’s it.”

Here’s the scriptural earworm that’s been rattling lately:
Hebrews 13:8 says, “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.“

Now, I know what some of you might be thinking. “Scott, come on. That’s Sunday school stuff. We’ve heard that a million times.” And yeah, you probably have. But have you really heard it? Have you let it sink in? Have you let it reshape how you see everything? Is it really connecting your knowledge with what you believe? Many of us still have a lot of Sunday School knowledge but even after all this time, it hasn’t quite settled into what we believe.

Because, here’s the thing, we live in a world that’s constantly shifting, right? It’s like trying to build a sandcastle during high tide. News cycles spin, opinions change, trends come and go, and you’re left wondering, “What’s solid? What can I actually hold onto?”

We’re all searching for something that doesn’t crumble, something that doesn’t disappoint. We’re looking for that steady heartbeat in the midst of the chaos. And that’s where this verse hits me.

“Jesus Christ is the same.“

Think about that. Yesterday, today, forever. In a world of constant change, there’s a constant. In a world of uncertainty, there’s certainty. In a world of fleeting moments, there’s something eternal. In a world of things built to last a year or two at the most, here’s something that’s existed since the beginning and will be here forever.

Now, I’m not talking about some abstract theological concept. I’m talking about the Jesus who walked among us. The Jesus who ate with sinners, who healed the sick, who challenged the powerful, who shook the traditional, who loved the unlovable.

That Jesus? He’s the same. Yesterday, when they were questioning his authority. Today, when we’re wrestling with our doubts. Forever, when we’re trying to figure out what it all means.

And here’s the beautiful, liberating part: This isn’t about us trying to keep up with some ever-changing version of God. It’s about God being consistently, relentlessly, beautifully himself.

You know, sometimes we get so caught up in trying to figure out all the answers, trying to nail down all the doctrines, that we miss the simple, profound truth: Jesus is here. He’s always been here. And he’s not going anywhere.

He’s the same when you’re celebrating your biggest victories, and he’s the same when you’re staring into the abyss of your deepest fears. He’s the same when you’re surrounded by friends, and he’s the same when you feel utterly alone.

So, take a deep breath. Let go of the need to control everything.
Let go of the fear that everything is falling apart.

Because in the midst of all the noise, there’s a still, small voice saying,
“I’m here. I’m the same. And I’m not going anywhere.”

And you know what? I think that’s good news. Like, really, really good news.

So, let it sink in.
Let it change you.
Let it set you free.

Because, friends, the same Jesus who turned water into wine, who calmed the storm, who raised the dead?
He’s still here. And he’s still doing amazing things.

Perhaps we just need to open our eyes and see it today.

Grace & Peace,
-Pastor Scott.

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The Road Less Traveled (And Why It Matters)

Alright, friends. Let’s talk about roads. Yeah, that’s right, we’re talking about roads today. You know, the ones you drive on, walk on, the ones you choose. Jesus, he’s got this thing, right? He’s laying it out, stark and clear: “Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.” (Matthew 7:13-14, NIV)  

Now, we could get all fire and brimstone about this, right? We could start pointing fingers, yelling about who’s on the wrong road. But, honestly, I don’t think that’s what Jesus was going for. He wasn’t about the cosmic “gotcha.” He was about invitation.

Think about it: two roads. One, wide, easy, feels like everyone’s on it. It’s the “sure, why not?” road. The “whatever floats your boat” road. It’s the road where, let’s be honest, you can get lost in the noise, in the endless distractions, in the constant pursuit of more. It feels good for a while, maybe. But, Jesus says, it leads to destruction. And destruction, in the original Greek, isn’t necessarily about hellfire and brimstone. It’s about being unraveled, coming undone, losing your shalom(peace). Losing, well you and your wholeness.

Then there’s the other road. The narrow one. The one where you gotta squeeze through a tight gate. It’s not flashy. It’s not the popular choice. It’s the road where you have to pay attention. You have to be intentional. You have to choose. It’s the road where YOU might have to let go of some things, some old habits, some comfortable illusions. This road requires a bit of sacrifice.

And here’s the thing: that narrow road? It leads to life. Not just some distant, future life, but right now life. The kind of life where you’re truly connected, truly present, truly alive to the beauty and the mystery of it all.

Now, here’s the question I keep wrestling with: what does that narrow road look like for me? For you? It’s not a checklist. (Man, I’m tired of checklists and ‘to-do’ lists, are you?!)
It’s not a set of rules. It’s not about being perfect. It’s about paying attention. It’s about asking:

  • Where am I finding my life?
  • What am I clinging to that’s keeping me from squeezing through that gate?
  • Am I willing to let go of the noise and listen to the still, small voice within?

See, Jesus wasn’t giving us a map with turn-by-turn directions. He was inviting us to a journey. A journey of discovery, of surrender, of becoming more fully ourselves.

And yeah, it’s gonna be narrow. It’s gonna be challenging. But it’s also gonna be beautiful. Because that’s where the life is. That’s where the love is. That’s where you’ll find yourself, truly and deeply.

So, take a deep breath today.
Look around.
Which road are you on right now?
And which road are you choosing?
And here’s my prayer for us:

Let’s keep walking, friends. Together.
Grace & Peace!
-Pastor Scott.

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Dude, They’re Shouting: Revelation Gets Real

Alright, friends, happy Friday!
Today, I want to tackle an encouraging passage of scripture. But it’s also in the book of Revelation. And sometimes, thanks to deeply unscriptural books like Left Behind and others, Revelation has been wildly taken out of context.
But let’s take a stab at it, here goes:

So, let’s dive into something wild, something truly massive. Do you ever feel like the world’s just… small? Like your problems, your worries, they’re the whole show? Yeah, me too. But then you crack open Revelation, and BOOM!
It’s like someone ripped the roof off of reality and showed you the backstage of the universe, and it’s so much more than you could have imagined.

We’re landing in Revelation 7, verses 9 and 10. John’s having this vision, right? And it’s not some quiet, little prayer meeting. Forget that. It’s like a whole trip. He sees “a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and before the Lamb.”  

Think about that for a second. No one could count. That’s a lot of people. Like, a lot, a lot. And the beauty is – they’re not all the same. They’re from everywhere. Every culture, every skin color, every accent you can imagine. It’s like the ultimate potluck, but instead of bringing casseroles, they’re bringing their unique stories; they’re bringing this truly diverse selection of culture; and their unique ways of praising God.  

And what are they doing? They’re shouting, “Salvation belongs to our God, who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!”  

Now, here’s the thing that gets me. They’re not whispering. They’re not politely raising their hands. They’re shouting. They’re declaring it with everything they’ve got. They aren’t holding back. It’s a full-throated, heart-pounding, soul-shaking declaration.

Why? Because they get it. They understand the sheer, overwhelming, mind-blowing grace of God. They’ve seen the Lamb, Jesus, and they know that salvation isn’t about how good you are, how many rules you follow, or how much you donate to the church. It’s about God’s love, God’s relentless pursuit of us, God’s willingness to make things right.

And that’s incredible news. It’s news that makes you want to shout. It’s news that makes you want to dance. It’s news that makes you leave it all at the altar and live, truly live this transformed life because of His grace.

See, sometimes we get so caught up in the small stuff, the day-to-day grind, our worry about our finances, the fear of losing a job, the anxiety that keeps you up at night…we get so caught up in that small stuff that we forget the big picture.
We forget that God’s plan is bigger than our problems, bigger than our fears, bigger than anything we can imagine.

This vision in Revelation? It’s a reminder that we’re part of something huge. We’re part of a movement that spans the globe, spans time itself, it’s a movement that’s been going on for centuries, a movement that will continue until every knee bows and every tongue confesses that Jesus Christ is Lord.

So, what does this mean for us today? Well, maybe it means taking a moment to step back and remember the bigness of God. Maybe it means finding our voice and joining the chorus, declaring our own “Salvation belongs to our God!” Maybe it means looking around and seeing the beauty of God’s diverse creation, the beauty of all those different faces, all those different stories. Maybe it means we stop taking it all for granted, and say thank you!

Maybe it means realizing that we’re not alone. We’re part of a massive, glorious, unstoppable movement of love and grace. And that, my friends, is something worth shouting about. So take a few minutes, hours, days, and just appreciate this big, beautiful movement of love and give your praise to God.

Don’t just read it. Feel it. Let the sheer scale of God’s love and the diversity of His people soak into your soul.
And then, maybe, just maybe, let out a shout of your own. You’re in good company.

Grace & Peace!
-Pastor Scott.

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The Silent Language: Speaking Through Acts of Mercy.

Greetings my friends,
If you can, let’s pull up a chair, grab a cup of something warm (please tell me it’s coffee!), and we are going to lean into Matthew 5:7 for just a few moments.
This passage reads like this: “Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.“

Now, you know how we sometimes get caught up in these verses, like they’re some kind of moral checklist, right? We might ask ourselves questions like, “Am I merciful enough? Did I hit my quota of compassion today?” And since it’s a moral checklist, we turn it into a performance, a spiritual to-do list, and we completely miss the point.

So you see, Jesus isn’t handing out merit badges for good behavior. There’s no gold star for doing all of your moral homework this week. He’s revealing something fundamental about the universe, about how it all works. And it’s less about “do this, get that,” and more about “this is how reality is structured, and this is who you should be.”

Think about it. We live in a world where everyone’s got a story, a messy, complicated, sometimes painful story.
We’ve all been hurt, we’ve all made mistakes, and we’ve all had those moments we wish we could rewind and erase.
And in those moments, what do we crave? What do we desperately need?

Mercy.
In big, bold letters.

Not judgment, not condemnation, not a lecture on how we messed up.
We need someone to look at us, to look into our eyes and see the brokenness, and say, “Yeah, me too. I get it. You’re not alone.” It’s a relief to know we have commonality. It’s an assurance there are others who are just like us.

And here’s the kicker: when we extend that kind of mercy to others, something shifts inside us. It’s like we tap into a deeper current, a flow of grace that runs through everything. We become channels for that mercy, and in doing so, we experience it ourselves.

It’s not a transaction, it’s a transformation.
It’s not about earning God’s favor; it’s about aligning ourselves with God’s very nature.
We are essentially tuning into the essence of who God is and what He desires for all of us.
Show mercy – Live mercy – Be merciful.

We’re so good at drawing lines, aren’t we?
“Us vs. them,” “good vs. bad,” “deserving vs. undeserving.” “Real Coffee vs Decaf”…okay I digress.
But Jesus is saying, “Forget the lines. Tear down the walls.
See the humanity in everyone, even the people you think are your enemies.”
It’s a crazy mindset in our world today. It goes counter-cultural to everything we’ve been taught, doesn’t it?

Because here’s the thing: everyone’s fighting a battle you know nothing about.
Everyone’s carrying a weight you can’t see. And in those moments of struggle, what they need isn’t your opinion, or your judgement, it’s your mercy.

So, what does that look like in your life and in my life?
Maybe it’s forgiving someone who’s wronged you.
Maybe it’s listening to someone who’s hurting without trying to fix them.
Maybe it’s simply offering a kind word, a gentle touch, or a moment of understanding.
In a small way, we are extending just an ounce of the mercy Jesus has already shown us.

And get this:
It’s about recognizing that we are all, every single one of us, in need of mercy.
And when we give it, we find it.

It’s not about being perfect; it’s about being present.
It’s about recognizing the divine spark in everyone, Imago Dei (the image of God) in all of us, including ourselves.
It’s about living in the flow of grace, where mercy leads the way.
And a space where judgment and condemnation have no place.

And when we do that, friends, when we choose mercy instead of vengeance, we discover something truly beautiful, something beyond profound:
We discover that we are, indeed, blessed.

Because mercy isn’t just something we give; it’s something we receive.
It’s a gift that keeps on giving, a circle of grace that connects us all.

So go out there and be merciful. And watch what happens. You might just surprise yourself and others.
Grace and Peace,
-Pastor Scott.

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Untangling the 3 AM Knot: God, Fear, and Your Bank Account.

Alright, friends, happy Wednesday!
Let’s talk about that knot in your stomach. Yeah, that one. The one that starts small, maybe a little flutter, and then BAM! It’s full-blown, industrial-strength worry leading into the spiral that is anxiety.
It’s the kind that keeps you up at 3 AM, staring at the ceiling, wondering if you’re ever going to catch a break.

We’ve all been there, right?
The bills pile up, the job situation gets shaky, and the future looks like a blurry, anxiety-inducing mess.
And fear? Oh, fear loves to whisper those “what ifs” into your ear, painting worst-case scenarios like a twisted Picasso.
It’s like your brain is running full-speed into its own horror movie, and you’re the star, and not in a good way.

Now, here’s the thing. We live in a world that sells us solutions.
“Just work harder!” “Invest smarter!”
“Manifest your dreams!” And sure, there’s some truth in taking action, in being responsible.
But what about when you’ve done all you can, and the weight still feels crushing?
When you’re running on empty, you have blisters on the palms of your hands from holding on so tightly and doing all that you can, but it’s just not enough? What about these times?
We’ve all been here in this place, right? It’s a very unsettling place to live, let alone linger because you have no other choice.

That’s where we get to the heart of it.
That’s where we get to the wild, beautiful, utterly disruptive message of Jesus.

See, the ancient Hebrew word for “worry” is related to the word for “divided.”
Think about that.
When we’re caught in the spin cycle of worry, our attention is split.
We’re pulled in a million directions, our focus fractured, our peace shattered. We experience that unsettling place some of us call ‘limbo’ and we’re living in a state of internal civil war.


I hope that as you read this, you’re not experiencing anxiety symptoms because let me share with you the cure.
It’s not a one-shot-one-cure, it’s a gradual thing. It’s a prescription that will help to pull us back from whatever ledge we find ourselves standing on in those limbo moments. So here it is:

Jesus invites us to something different. He says, “Don’t worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” (Matthew 6:34). Now, he’s not saying we should be irresponsible. He’s not saying we should ignore our problems. He’s pointing to something deeper, something more fundamental.

He’s saying, “Pay attention. Look around. See the birds of the air? See the lilies of the field? They don’t toil or spin, yet your heavenly Father feeds and clothes them. And aren’t you worth much more than they?” (Matthew 6:26, 28-30).

I’ve written about this topic before, and I have to admit this is still hard for me…how about you?

This isn’t about some simplistic, “just have faith” platitude. It’s not some sort of stupid mantra about “if you just pray harder…” It’s about recognizing the reality of God’s presence, the reality of God’s care.
It’s about shifting our gaze from the swirling chaos in that limbo space where we’re just treading water…shifting our gaze to the steady, unwavering love that surrounds us.

Think of it like this: you’re in a boat in the middle of a storm. The waves are crashing, the wind is howling, and you’re terrified you’re going to sink. But then, you remember that the ocean itself is held in God’s hands. (please don’t sing “He’s got the whole world in His hands”)


But seriously, the storm doesn’t change that. The fear doesn’t change that.
But KNOWING that God’s got you changes that.

And yeah, the financial burdens? They’re real.
The stress is real. The “insufficient balance notices” – they’re real.
But here’s the thing: God isn’t surprised by your bank statement.
God isn’t shocked by the state of the economy. (or the cost of eggs)
God’s bigger than all of that.

He’s invited us to a life of trust, a life of surrender. Not a blind, passive surrender, but an active, engaged surrender.
A surrender that says, “God, I’m in way over my head. I’m scared. But I trust that you’re here. I trust that you’re working, even when I can’t see it. I trust that you’re making a way, even when it looks impossible.”

And sometimes, that way might look like a new job opportunity.
Sometimes, it might look like a helping hand from a friend.
Sometimes, it might look like an appointment made with a therapist (I’m serious, your mental health is important!)
Sometimes, it might look like a deep, inexplicable peace that settles over your soul, even in the midst of the storm.

It’s not about getting everything figured out – it’s never been about that.
It’s about knowing that you’re not alone.
It’s about remembering that you’re held, you’re loved, you’re seen.
And that, dear friends, that’s enough. That’s more than enough.

So, take a deep breath today in whatever limbo you find yourself in.
Let go of the knot in your stomach.
And remember, you’re not divided.
You’re held. You’re whole. You’re loved.
And that changes everything.

Grace & Peace,
-Pastor Scott.

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Finding Our Way with a Little Bit of Light…(a pondering on Psalm 119).

Hey friends, let’s ponder on Psalm 119 today.
I know, I know, it’s a beast of a Psalm. It’s like, the longest psalm. Ever.
It’s got more lines than a line your neighborhood Chick-Fil-A at lunch time…well, you get the picture.
But stick with me, because there’s something wild in there. Something that’s gonna make you go, “Whoa.”

So, let’s zero in on verses 105-112, shall we?

Here it is (buckle up):

“Your word is a lamp for my feet, a light on my path. I have taken an oath and confirmed it, that I will follow your righteous laws. I have suffered much; preserve my life, Lord, according to your word. Accept, Lord, the willing praise of my mouth, and teach me your laws. Though I constantly risk my life, I will not forget your law. The wicked have set a snare for me, but I have not strayed from your precepts. Your statutes are my heritage forever; they are the joy of my heart. My heart is set on keeping your decrees to the very end.“

Okay, first off, “Your word is a lamp for my feet, a light on my path.” Done. Simple, right? But think about it.
We’re not talking about a spotlight, blinding you with certainty. We’re talking about a lamp. A little light in the dark.
You know, when you’re stumbling around in the middle of the night, trying to find the bathroom? And there’s that little plug-in night light to light your way and prevent you from stubbing your toe on that nightstand that’s trying to trip you.


That’s what this is. It’s enough light for the next step.
Not the whole staircase, just the next step.

See, we get so caught up in needing to know everything. We want the grand plan, the detailed map, the GPS (with the ETA of how long it’s going to take us to get there) coordinates for our entire lives.

But that’s not how it works, is it?
We get the next step.
And then the next.
And then the next.

And then, verse 107: “I have suffered much.”
Yeah, me too. You too. We all have. Life throws curveballs. It punches you in the gut. It sucker punches you in the nose when you’re not looking. And life tends to leave you wondering, “What just happened?”
But even in the midst of that, the psalmist says, “preserve my life, Lord, according to your word.”

It’s not about escaping the pain. It’s about finding a way through it. It’s about trusting that even when things are messy and confusing, there’s a light guiding you. Not a guarantee of a pain-free life, but a promise of presence. I know in previous postings we’ve talked a lot about this. But isn’t it encouraging to know that 1) you’re not the only one who wonders about stuff like this? And 2) God gets us. He knows us. He desires to journey along right beside us as we find our way through that next dumpster fire of a day.

The next step is lit…not the whole course of the journey just yet.

And then, verse 111: “Your statutes are my heritage forever; they are the joy of my heart.” Joy!
Right there in the middle of suffering, in the face of danger, there’s what?! JOY?
Not the kind of joy that comes from having everything figured out, but the kind of joy that comes from knowing you’re not alone. You’ve never been alone.
It’s the kind of joy that comes from knowing you’re connected to something so much bigger than yourself.

Because here’s the thing: you’re not just some random speck of dust floating through the universe.
You’re part of something incredible. Something beautiful. Something that’s been unfolding for a long, long time.

So, take a deep breath. Let that little lamp light your way. Take the next step. And remember, even in the darkness, there’s joy. There’s light. There’s hope. And you? You’re gonna be okay. Things are going to be alright. God has not left your side.

Grace & Peace.
-Pastor Scott.

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Get Hangry…Made for More

Hey Friends, happy Monday (or, again whenever you happen to read this).
I would like to ponder on Matthew 5:6 today. Yesterday I preached on this passage, so it’s relatively fresh in my brain, so as they say, strike when the iron is hot!


So, let’s talk about hunger. Yeah, hunger. The moment you become hangry, we all know about that ache? But this hunger isn’t just just for a sandwich, though, let’s be real, a good dagwood can be a deeply spiritual experience….mmm, okay, I digress.

But I’m talking about that deeper hunger. That thing inside that just…won’t…quit.

Matthew 5:6. “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.”

What a sentence. Just like that, Jesus drops this profound grain of truth:
“Blessed.” Not “bummed out,” not “stuck,” but blessed. For being hungry? For wanting something? See, most of us, we spend our lives trying to avoid that hunger. We fill it with…stuff. Distractions. Entertainment. Maybe even the “right” kind of stuff—good deeds, church attendance, you know, the whole checklist.
But what if that hunger, that thirst, is actually a gift?

Think about it. You ever been really thirsty? Like, desert-island, tongue-stuck-to-the-roof-of-your-mouth thirsty? When you finally find that water? It’s not just wet. It’s life. It’s revelation. It’s like the universe itself is saying, “Here you go, friend. You were made for this.”

Imagine with me the middle of the summer…it’s blazing hot. That was the temperature of Washington DC the day me and my family decided to sight-seeing. It was July and the dog days of summer were in full effect. It was scorching hot and we walked from the Smithsonian to the Washington Monument and then said, “why don’t we walk over to the Lincoln Memorial too – it’s not that far” And in actuality it’s not. It’s only about a mile from each other. But it just so happened that the summer we decided to go for this tour, the Mall’s reflecting pool which stretching out for a majority of the walk was closed. And so there were numerous construction barricades and detours on our trip.



To make matters worse all of our children were little. I mean we had a double stroller and children who apparently realized that their little legs no longer worked in the summer heat.
When we finally arrived at the Lincoln memorial we took lots of photos like every tourist and then, we had to walk the entire length of the mall and construction site which is the reflecting pool back to our parked car.

Along the way, we saw many war memorials and there came a point that a couple of our children almost joined them because both Shanais and I were completely soaked with sweat and exhausted from our “impromptu” sight-seeing trip. When we finally sat down that evening in an air-conditioned restaurant we asked for the biggest glasses of iced water they had. We were so parched, mouths dry, and feet that had just a few more blisters than they had when we had started out. 

We were both extremely thirsty and hungry after that extremely dry and hot day of walking.

But, Jesus isn’t talking about being hungry for the next shiny thing, or that next meal.
He’s talking about a hunger for righteousness. Now, hold up, don’t go grabbing your moral measuring stick. “Righteousness” isn’t about being perfect. It’s not about getting your spiritual GPA up.
It’s about rightness. It’s about things being as they should be.
It’s about wholeness. It’s about justice. It’s about love.

It’s that bone-deep feeling that something’s off. That the world isn’t working right.
That there’s more to life than what we’re seeing. That things can be better.

And that hunger, that divine discontent, that’s where the magic happens.
Because it’s in that space, in that longing, that we become open. Open to something more. Open to God.

See, God’s not some cosmic vending machine, waiting for us to put in the right coins.
God’s in the hunger. God’s in the thirst. God’s in the desire.
It’s the very thing that pulls us towards the divine.

And here’s the “Aha” moment: Jesus says we’ll be filled.
Not just a little sip, not a half-hearted squirt.
We’ll be filled. Overflowing. Abundant.

So, instead of trying to silence that hunger, maybe we lean into it a little today. Maybe walk around it, explore it, inquire about it. This spiritual hunger, this spiritual thirst – there’s more for us to experience as we dig deeper on this faith journey. Maybe we embrace it. Maybe we say, “Yeah, I’m hungry. I’m thirsty. I want things to be right. I want to see justice. I want to be authentic, I want to live generously. I want to experience love.”

And perhaps in that very moment, we’ll find that the feast has already begun and all we have to do is find a seat at the table.

Grace & Peace.
-Pastor Scott.

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From Dumpster Fire to Safety and Hope…

Alright, friends, happy Friday! (have you been working for the weekend? -sorry I couldn’t help myself).
Let’s talk about Psalm 91 today.

You know, that one that’s like, “Yo, you wanna live under the shadow of the Almighty?”
And we are all like, “Um, yeah, I do!“

So, let me ask you this, do you ever feel like life is just throwing curveballs at you? And, like, they are curveballs that are on fire? You’re over here just trying to make it to Tuesday, and suddenly, boom! Plague! Famine! Angry lions!
(Okay, maybe not lions, but you get the picture.) It’s just a dumpster fire of a week, month, year…

Psalm 91 is all about that secret place. No, not the book The Secret Garden, although that one always makes me cry…
But in Psalm 91 – You know, that spot where you’re just chillin’ with God, under the Almighty’s wing. It’s like finding that perfect hammock spot in the shade on a super hot day. You just sink in, and you’re like, “Ahhh, yeah. This is it.”

Now, some folks read this and think, “Okay, so if I say these words, I’m automatically immune to everything bad.” Like it’s some kind of magical incantation. (insert the Harry Potter-verse here) But, hold up! That’s not how this works.

Think of it like this: it’s not about being protected from everything, it’s about being held through everything.
It’s about knowing that even when the arrows are flying and the ground is shaking, you’re not alone.
You’re in that secret place, tucked in, held close.

Verse 4 says, “He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings, you will find refuge.” Feathers! (I’m sorry, but why do I irreverently think of Big Bird from Sesame Street?!) But, Feathers?! Like a big, warm, divine bird hug.


How cool is that? It’s not about escaping the storm, it’s about knowing you’re safe in the middle of it.

I’m sure some of you reading this right now are in the middle of some storm of life.

And check this out: “You will not fear the terror of night, nor the arrow that flies by day.” It’s not about having no fear, because, let’s be real, fear happens. It’s about knowing that fear doesn’t get the final say.
It’s about trusting that even when things are dark and scary, God’s got your back.

Think of it like this: you’re walking through a haunted house. It’s dark and spooky, and there are jump scares everywhere. But you’re holding hands with someone you trust. You might jump, you might scream, but you know you’re not going through it alone.

THAT’S THE SECRET PLACE.
It’s not a physical location, it’s a state of being.
It’s knowing that even when life’s a hot mess, a freaking dumpster fire…
you’re connected to something bigger, something stronger, something that loves you more than you can imagine.

So, perhaps next time, when you’re feeling overwhelmed, take a deep breath.
Find that secret place. Remember those feathers. Remember that you’re held.
And remember, you’re not alone. We’re all in this crazy, beautiful, messy thing together.
And God’s got us.

Grace and Peace friends!
Go live that feathered life!

-Pastor Scott.
(Have a great weekend, we’ll see you on Monday!)

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