Dear Pastors, The Miracle IS the Mess.

Hey Pastor,

You’re sitting there, sipping that coffee that’s gone cold, staring at the sermon notes that refuse to come together, aren’t you? The weight of the world—or at least the weight of your congregation’s expectations—sits heavy on your shoulders. You’re supposed to have answers. You’re supposed to be the steady one, the one who points to the divine when everyone else is lost in the chaos. But what if the chaos is the point? What if the mess is where the miracle lives?

Let’s pause for a second and breathe. Because I know you’re tired. I know you’re carrying the stories of the single mom who can’t make rent, the teenager who’s cutting again, the elder who’s questioning everything they’ve ever believed. And you’re carrying your own stuff too—the doubts that creep in at 2 a.m., the fear that you’re not enough, the nagging sense that maybe you’re just faking it.

But what if that’s exactly where God shows up? Not in the polished sermon, not in the perfectly executed service, but in the raw, unfiltered mess of it all?

Think about it. The Bible isn’t a tidy book. It’s a wild, untamed collection of stories about people who screw up, fall apart, and somehow, in the middle of their mess, find themselves stumbling into grace. Abraham lies about his wife. Moses kills a guy. David—oh, David—makes a royal mess of things. And yet, these are the people God uses. These are the ones who carry the story forward.

What if your church’s budget crisis, your personal doubts, or that one parishioner who keeps emailing you at midnight are not distractions from the holy but invitations into it? What if the divine is woven into the frayed edges of your life, not waiting for you to clean it up first?

I’m not saying it’s easy. It’s not. It’s brutal sometimes. You’re out there, week after week, trying to speak hope into a world that feels like it’s unraveling. You’re preaching resurrection while you’re still grieving your own losses. But here’s the thing: the resurrection didn’t happen in a sterile, airbrushed tomb. It happened in the dark, in the dirt, in the place where nobody thought life could break through.

So, Pastor, what if you stopped trying to fix the mess? What if, instead of chasing the perfect sermon or the flawless leadership moment, you leaned into the cracks? What if you let yourself feel the weight of the doubts, the fears, the failures—not to wallow, but to find the sacred there?

Because I believe this: God is in the mess. God is in the tears you cry when nobody’s watching. God is in the awkward silence when you don’t have the answer. God is in the church board meeting that goes off the rails, in the youth group kid who keeps asking why, in the moment you look in the mirror and wonder if you’re cut out for this.

The miracle isn’t that you get it all together. The miracle is that God meets you in the middle of it.

So here’s my invitation to you today: take a risk. Preach that sermon that’s a little too raw. Have that conversation with the person you’ve been avoiding. Admit to your congregation that you don’t have all the answers. Let the mess be holy. Because when you do, you might just find that the Spirit is moving in ways you never expected—through the cracks, through the chaos, through you.

What if the mess is the canvas where God paints the most beautiful stories? What if your imperfections are the very place where grace breaks through?

Keep going, Pastor. You’re not alone. The miracle is already happening—right there in the mess.

With you in the wild, untamed journey,
Grace & Peace,
Pastor Scott

“Keep Building Yourself Up!”

Life has a way of throwing challenges at us that can leave us feeling drained, discouraged, or even a little lost. In those moments, we need something solid to hold onto—a reminder of where our strength comes from and how to keep going. That’s exactly what we find in Jude 1:20-21, a short but powerful passage that offers a blueprint for staying encouraged and rooted in faith.

The verses say: “But you, dear friends, by building yourselves up in your most holy faith and praying in the Holy Spirit, keep yourselves in God’s love as you wait for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ to bring you to eternal life.” (NIV) Let’s unpack this a little and see how it can lift us up today.

Build Yourself Up

Jude starts with an action: “building yourselves up in your most holy faith.” Think about that for a second. Faith isn’t a one-and-done thing—it’s a living, growing structure that we get to keep working on. It’s like adding bricks to a house, layer by layer. Every time we choose to trust God, every time we lean into His promises, we’re strengthening that foundation.

So how do we do that practically? It could be as simple as reading Scripture and letting it sink in, or reflecting on the ways God’s been faithful in the past. It’s not about having all the answers or feeling unshakable every day—it’s about showing up, even in small ways, and trusting that God’s at work in the process. You’re not alone in this construction project; you’re building with the best materials Heaven has to offer.

Pray in the Spirit

Next, Jude tells us to “pray in the Holy Spirit.” Prayer isn’t just a wishlist we hand over to God—it’s a conversation, a connection, a lifeline. When we pray in the Spirit, we’re inviting God’s presence to guide us, to speak to us, to fill us with peace that doesn’t make sense in the middle of chaos. It’s like tuning into a frequency where we can hear His voice more clearly.

If you’re feeling overwhelmed, try this: take a deep breath, ask the Holy Spirit to help you pray, and just start talking—or even sit quietly. You don’t need fancy words. God hears the groans of your heart just as loudly as your spoken requests. That kind of prayer keeps us anchored, no matter what’s swirling around us.

Stay in God’s Love

Then comes the heart of it: “keep yourselves in God’s love.” This isn’t about earning God’s love—He’s already given it freely. It’s about staying in that sweet spot where you’re aware of it, resting in it, letting it shape how you see yourself and the world. It’s easy to drift away when life gets tough, to let doubt or fear take the wheel. But Jude’s saying, “No, stay here. This is where you belong.”

Picture it like sitting by a warm fire on a cold night. You don’t have to make the fire burn; you just have to stay close enough to feel its warmth. God’s love is that fire—constant, steady, and always there for you to draw near to.

Wait with Hope

Finally, Jude points us forward: “as you wait for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ to bring you to eternal life.” Waiting can feel like the hardest part, especially when we’re longing for answers or relief. But this isn’t a passive, hopeless waiting—it’s active, expectant, full of anticipation. We’re waiting for mercy, for Jesus, for the promise of eternal life that puts every temporary struggle in perspective.

That’s the ultimate encouragement: what’s ahead is so much bigger than what’s behind or even what’s right now. You’re not just surviving; you’re headed somewhere glorious, and Jesus is the one leading you there.

You’ve Got This

So, dear friend, wherever you are today, take heart. Build yourself up in faith, one small step at a time. Pray—messy, honest prayers—and let the Holy Spirit carry you. Stay wrapped in God’s love, because it’s yours to keep. And wait with hope, knowing that mercy is coming, and it’s bringing eternal life with it.

You’re not alone in this. God’s right there, cheering you on, ready to help you add another brick to that beautiful faith you’re building. Keep going—you’ve got this, because He’s got you.

Grace & Peace,
-Pastor Scott.

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑