Speaking Of Life 5009 │ Are You Afraid of the Dark?
Michelle Fleming

As a small child, I was a little afraid of the dark. This is a common fear for most young children, and experts attribute it to a toddler’s growing cognitive abilities—including the development of the imagination. The dark becomes a place where monsters live, and fear creeps into a child’s mind.

As adults, we know we need the dark for good health, and light exposure at night can affect our bodies’ internal sleep rhythms and hormones, like melatonin. Children, though, have to develop trust that darkness can be good for us.

In scripture, God’s presence is sometimes referred to as light and God’s absence as darkness. This can give us a mistaken impression of what the faithful Christian walk looks like. We can mistakenly think that when we experience doubt or difficulties, we are in darkness and God has left us. One biblical passage that shows the wide range of the Christian experience is Psalm 27. It begins like this:

The Lord is my light and my salvation; who shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?
Psalm 27: 1 (NRSV)

This is what we think of when we define faith in God. We believe that in this world of great beauty and great suffering, God is with us, and we don’t need to be afraid. But the truth is, we often are afraid or worried. Does that mean our faith is weak?

Let’s consider some other verses in the same Psalm:

Hear, O Lord, when I cry aloud, be gracious to me and answer me! ‘Come’ my heart says, ‘seek his face!’ Your face, Lord, do I seek. Do not hide your face from me. Do not turn your servant away in anger, you who have been my help. Do not cast me off, do not forsake me, O God of my salvation!
Psalm 27:7-9 (NRSV)

These verses seem to be a sharp contrast to the over-the-top faith of the first verse. Here, the psalmist speaks of his pain and his fear, but he isn’t worried that his lament will drive God off. Instead, the psalmist helps us understand that part of faith is believing in God’s faithfulness even when that faithfulness doesn’t feel present. Even in the midst of doubt.

Trust in God doesn’t prevent hardship or keep us from experiencing times when God feels distant. We can find examples in the Bible, like this one, or in the lives of the early church fathers that illustrate how we can experience what has been called “the dark night of the soul.” God understands that faith and doubt are not opposites. In fact, questioning our faith can often lead to growth and transformation. Like light and dark, faith and doubt need each other.

When we were small children, we had to learn that the dark would not hurt us. We had to understand that we needed darkness to sleep and to be healthy. Similarly, as Christians, we learn that doubt and questioning can be our means toward growth in our relationship with God.

“Being afraid of the dark” is a normal part of faith. Let us continue to grow in our understanding that the Light of our Salvation, our living Triune God, is always there to lead us from darkness into his light.

I’m Michelle Fleming, Speaking of Life.

Speaking of Life 5008 | More Than I Can Say
Greg Williams

Sonny Curtis and Jerry Allison wrote a song called “More Than I Can Say” back in 1959. And it went on to be performed by Leo Sayer, who rode the song to the top of the billboards back in the 80s.

The lyrics were simple and repetitive. Here are the opening lines:

I love you more than I can say

I’ll love you twice as much tomorrow

Oh, love you more than I can say

Set to a catchy tune, this song will get stuck in your head for days. In addition, we can all identify with the experience of loving someone or something “more than we can say.”

Or, maybe it’s more than that. Perhaps this little ditty resonates with us at a far deeper level.

After all, praising comes quite easy for us does it not? Have you ever been startled by a streaking star shooting through the night sky that made you shout, “Wow! Look at that”? Or maybe the sighting of that rare double rainbow after a storm that turns everyone’s attention skyward with utterances of “oohs” and “ahhs.” It seems praise comes naturally when we are encountered with something amazing or beautiful.

“More Than I Can Say” may have been written back in 1959 but this is not the first time a songwriter has attempted to praise someone beyond words. Look at this lyric in Psalm 40 which is a thanksgiving Psalm:

You have multiplied, O Lord my God, your wondrous deeds and your thoughts toward us; none can compare with you!
I will proclaim and tell of them, yet they are more than can be told.
Psalm 40:5 (ESV)

When we come to know God for who he truly is, we too will be compelled to praise him “more than we can say.” That’s the blessed life we are created for. Praising God for all eternity means we are in the presence and in a relationship with One who is praiseworthy beyond words. We come to know this God only in Jesus Christ, who reveals this Father to us by the Spirit. The more we come to know our Triune God, the more our praise will naturally pour forth. And scripture indicates that this song of praise will get stuck in our heads for all eternity. After all, God is good…well…more than I can say.

I’m Greg Williams, Speaking of Life.

Baptism of Our Lord

Water holds the power to shape and renew. It softens hard soil, restores what is dry, and sustains every living thing. In baptism, water represents the meeting place between heaven and earth.

On the banks of the Jordan, Jesus stepped into the waters not because he needed cleansing, but because we do. This is the Incarnation: Jesus, fully God and fully human, was baptized on behalf of all mankind. He entered our story, identifying fully with humanity, so that we might share fully in his life.

Jesus rose from the water, the heavens opened. The Spirit descended like a dove, resting on him, and a voice from heaven spoke words of love and affirmation:
“This is my Son, the beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”

In that moment, the world witnessed what had always been true: the Son in perfect communion with the Father and the Spirit, revealing our shared identity in him.

Through baptism, we are reminded that we belong to this divine love. We are God’s beloved children, called to reflect the light of Christ wherever we go.

As we remember the baptism of our Lord, let’s reflect together:

• Where in your life do you need to be reminded that you are God’s beloved?
• How might the Holy Spirit be inviting you to live out your baptismal calling this week?
  

“Here is my servant, whom I uphold,
    my chosen one in whom I delight;
I will put my Spirit on him,
    and he will bring justice to the nations.
² He will not shout or cry out,
    or raise his voice in the streets.
³ A bruised reed he will not break,
    and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out.
In faithfulness he will bring forth justice;
⁴     he will not falter or be discouraged
till he establishes justice on earth.
    In his teaching the islands will put their hope.”
Isaiah 42:1-4 NIV

In these waters, heaven still opens. The Spirit still descends. The Father still speaks.
You are God’s beloved child, chosen, called, and sent to live in the light of his love.

Speaking of Life 5006 | The Least of These
Greg Williams

In my travels locally and around the world, it is devastating to see the different forms of poverty that I encounter. On a recent trip to South Africa, a young boy came knocking on the window asking for money while we were stuck in traffic. I wanted to help but I didn’t have any local money. One of the people inside the car gave me a few coins to pass on to the young boy. As soon as I gave the money, a crowd started to form surrounding our car. If you helped one, everyone else came and asked for help. As we drove away, it broke my heart that I couldn’t help them all.

In his humanity, Jesus experienced this too. In his earthly ministry, Jesus healed people that he encountered but he couldn’t heal them all. Healing them was only a short-term solution. Jesus couldn’t devote all of his time to healing people rather he was devoted to preaching the good news about our loving Father who invites us into a relationship and Kingdom where one day every need will be met and all will be made well.

Every day we are confronted with the reality that there is a world full of endless needs. It can get overwhelming just thinking about all the problems that exist in our own tiny part of the planet. We know we cannot solve the world’s problems nor meet all the needs that we constantly see around us, but we can do our part to participate in the work that God is doing in the environs where we inhabit.

In Matthew 25, Jesus lists a group of people who are in dire situations. After mentioning their circumstances, He equates our service to them with meeting his own needs.

For I was hungry, and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty, and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick, and you looked after me, I was in prison, and you came to visit me.’

Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’
Matthew 25:35-40

The situations that Jesus mentions in this passage of Matthew’s gospel are practical needs, which, if we are honest with ourselves, rarely present themselves to us when it is most convenient. Further, these needs may involve sacrifice on our part. And that’s his point.

Participating in Jesus’ kingdom will often involve sacrificially doing something practical for someone else. This list Jesus presents in Matthew 25 was not meant to be comprehensive. He wants us to look around and see the needs of those around us.

Who are the “least of these” in your own life? Who is God placing on your heart? Have you asked him? I find that the Holy Spirit is oftentimes nudging me, and I am growing to respond more readily.

Here are a few basic ideas to consider. What if you called that friend who is struggling emotionally? How about providing meals to the person in your neighborhood who just went through surgery? What if we walked across the street and took a plate of homemade cookies to a new neighbor? One of our churches in the Philippines has an active program called “Good in the Neighborhood.” I think this is what Jesus had in mind.

Notice that some of the people on Jesus’ list were probably responsible for the predicament that they found themselves in. Does it matter? Let’s remember, it is not our job to weed out the least of these by those we deem as worthy of our help. God’s grace is extended to all.

The idea of a God who is distant and unable to empathize with his creation disappears when we understand that God feels what we feel. That when one of the least of these is cared for, he feels cared for. When one of the least of these feels relief, he is relieved. Caring for others is caring for Christ.

We cannot meet every need we can encounter – and it can be heartbreaking. But we know the One in whom every need is met and we can make a difference when we follow the prompting of the Holy Spirit to see and meet the needs of others around us. We can’t help everyone, but we can be a blessing to those to whom God directs us to. And that’s making a world of difference.

I’m Greg Williams, Speaking of Life.

Speaking Of Life 5005 │ Best-Laid Plans
Michelle Fleming

Those who know me know that planning is one of my love languages. I love the feeling when a perfectly laid plan comes together. And my love tank is filled when someone considers what I like when planning a night out. But life experience has taught me that plan A is not always guaranteed to turn out. This might remind you of the common saying, “The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry.”

This saying was adapted from the poem “To A Mouse” written in 1785 by the Scottish poet Robert Burns. In the poem, Burns apologizes to a mouse whose nest was destroyed when Burns plowed the field the nest was in. The poem makes the point that regardless how well human beings plan, those plans can be overturned in an instant.

We often base our plans on expectations we have for how things are usually done. If we’re planning a trip, we expect the airline to leave at the specified time, and when it doesn’t, our plans are upended. We’re left unsettled and sometimes frustrated.

In ancient times, the Jewish people expected God to provide a Messiah who would deliver them from their Assyrian oppressors and usher in a time of peace and plenty. They yearned for deliverance and had expectations for the way that deliverance would take shape. The prophet Isaiah spoke to their concerns and assured them that God saw their suffering. But the scripture verses from Isaiah 9 talk about a Messiah who would be much more than they expected or planned for:

The people walking in darkness
have seen a great light;
on those living in the land of deep darkness
a light has dawned.
For to us a child is born,to us a son is given,
and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Of the greatness of his government and peace
there will be no end.
He will reign on David’s throne
and over his kingdom,
establishing and upholding it
with justice and righteousness
from that time on and forever.
The zeal of the Lord Almighty
will accomplish this.
Isaiah 9:2, 6-7 (NRSV)

Isaiah’s audience expected a political and military leader to rescue them. But the prophecy pointed to more than just a military leader, or to Israel’s rescue – it pointed to the Messiah and the rescue for all of humanity. The Israelites didn’t know this, neither did the Jews in Jesus’ day. They had plans for their rescuer – their Messiah, but God had different (bigger) plans.

In similar ways, we make plans and expect God to operate in our lives in a particular way, and sometimes nothing turns out. When our plans are upended and our expectations overturned, we can feel unanchored or adrift. How can we trust that things will be OK?

Isaiah’s prophecy helps us remember that God plays a long game. He has a bigger plan and our sign for that plan is Jesus. Consider all the ways that Jesus’ birth, life, and death overturned human expectations. Here are a few.

• People expected the Son of God to be born in royal conditions; Jesus was born to a poor Jewish couple in a barn.
• People expected the Son of God to behave according to the cultural norms of the time; Jesus often defied cultural norms, choosing to eat with tax collectors and women and healing those considered unclean.
• People expected the Son of God to be above suffering; Jesus experienced suffering and grief to the point of death on a cross.

 The “best-laid” plans we have will never be better than God’s plans, and though we don’t understand all of life’s twists and turns, we can trust that “a child has been born for us,” and the Prince of Peace will always be by our side.

As we celebrate his birth, may all who live in deep darkness see the great light of Jesus, and may your “best-laid” plans always be trumped by the love of God.

I’m Michelle Fleming, Speaking of Life.

Christmas – The Incarnation Is a New Beginning

Picture a world waiting in silence. Centuries of longing, generations holding onto promises spoken through prophets and whispered in prayers. Darkness seemed to linger, and hope felt like a distant dream. Yet even in that waiting, God’s eternal plan of love was unfolding, drawing all things toward the light of Christ.

Then, in the most surprising way—not with loud celebration or great power, but with quiet humility and gentleness—light broke through the darkness. Eternity entered time, and the infinite God became human.

On that holy night, the world was forever changed. A young mother cradled her child, shepherds hurried in from the fields, and angels filled the sky with songs of glory. Into a world marked by struggle and longing, love was born.

The incarnation is God’s declaration that no darkness is too deep, no story too broken, no heart too far gone. Jesus entered our humanity to stay—bringing forgiveness, restoring joy, and igniting hope.

What began in a manger was the start of a kingdom. A kingdom not built on power or wealth, but on grace, mercy, and love that endures forever. The light has come, and with it, a new beginning for all people.

As we celebrate the birth of Christ, let’s reflect together:

What fills you with awe and wonder when you think about the birth of Christ?

Where in your life do you long for the new beginning that only Jesus can bring?

⁸ And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. 
⁹ An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. ¹⁰ But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. ¹¹ Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. ¹² This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”
Luke 2:8-12 (NIV)

On this Christmas Day, may awe and wonder fill our hearts. The God who is infinite became one of us, the God who is love has come near. The incarnation is our new beginning. Christ has come, Christ is with us, and Christ will come again.

Advent—Love

Love is more than a feeling. It is the essence of God’s very being. Father, Son, and Spirit are love. Not just showing love, but embodying it. Everything God does flows from this truth.

As we reach the final Sunday of Advent, we are reminded that the whole story of Scripture is a story of love. The prophecies, the promises, the story of Israel, the birth, life, death, resurrection, ascension, and return of Jesus are all because of God’s unending love for us.

Paul declares in Romans 8 that nothing can separate us from God’s love. Not hardship or persecution, not powers or rulers, not life or death. Nothing can break the bond of divine love poured out by Father, Son, and Spirit.

It is this love that we celebrate in the incarnation.
Jesus came as a baby in a manger.
He comes to us now through the Spirit.
He will come again to fully establish His kingdom.

Advent points us forward to the One who is the center of every good thing.
As we close the Advent season, let’s reflect together:

How does God’s unending love give you hope for the world today?

In what ways can we, as the church, embody His love together in our community?

¹⁸ This is how the birth of Jesus the Messiah came about: His mother Mary was pledged to be married to Joseph, but before they came together, she was found to be pregnant through the Holy Spirit. ¹⁹ Because Joseph her husband was faithful to the law, and yet did not want to expose her to public disgrace, he had in mind to divorce her quietly.

²⁰ But after he had considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. ²¹ She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.”

²² All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet: ²³ “The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel” (which means “God with us”).

²⁴ When Joseph woke up, he did what the angel of the Lord had commanded him and took Mary home as his wife. ²⁵ But he did not consummate their marriage until she gave birth to a son. And he gave him the name Jesus.
Matthew 1:18–25 (NIV)

On this last Sunday of Advent, let us rejoice that the God who is love has come near, remains with us, and will come again in glory. Love is the beginning, the end, and the reason for our hope.

Advent—Joy

Joy often surprises us. It can burst forth in the most unexpected places; like a flower blooming in the desert, or laughter breaking into a room full of tears. Joy does not deny our struggles. Joy transforms them. In Advent, we remember that even in the wilderness of life, the promise of Christ brings streams of gladness.

Advent reminds us that

Jesus is our reason for rejoicing—even in the midst of trials.
He is always with us.
He gives us countless reasons to rejoice—forgiveness, inclusion, belonging, participation, relationship, mercy, grace, hope, peace, love, and eternity.

Rejoicing leads to worship. We rejoice because Jesus is our all in all—our Savior, brother, friend, firstfruit, creator, teacher, encourager, and comforter.
He is God, and yet fully human. He knows us, understands us, and walks with us.
He is our eternal hope, and He is the joy within us.

As we light the third candle of Advent, the candle of Joy, let us reflect together:

Where have you experienced the surprising joy of Christ this year?

How can you slow down this season to notice and celebrate those moments more fully?

¹ The desert and the parched land will be glad;
    the wilderness will rejoice and blossom.
Like the crocus, ² it will burst into bloom;
    it will rejoice greatly and shout for joy.
The glory of Lebanon will be given to it,
    the splendor of Carmel and Sharon;
they will see the glory of the Lord,
    the splendor of our God.

³ Strengthen the feeble hands,
    steady the knees that give way;
⁴ say to those with fearful hearts,
    “Be strong, do not fear;
your God will come,
    he will come with vengeance;
with divine retribution
    he will come to save you.”

⁵ Then will the eyes of the blind be opened
    and the ears of the deaf unstopped.
⁶ Then will the lame leap like a deer,
    and the mute tongue shout for joy.
Water will gush forth in the wilderness
    and streams in the desert.
⁷ The burning sand will become a pool,
    the thirsty ground bubbling springs.
In the haunts where jackals once lay,
    grass and reeds and papyrus will grow.

⁸ And a highway will be there;
    it will be called the Way of Holiness;
    it will be for those who walk on that Way.
The unclean will not journey on it;
    wicked fools will not go about on it.
⁹ No lion will be there,
    nor any ravenous beast;
    they will not be found there.
But only the redeemed will walk there,
¹⁰  and those the Lord has rescued will return.
They will enter Zion with singing;
    everlasting joy will crown their heads.
Gladness and joy will overtake them,
    and sorrow and sighing will flee away.
Isaiah 35:1-10

In this third week of Advent, let us rejoice in Christ, our eternal joy.
May His joy take root in us, overflow through us, and point the world to the glory of God.

Advent—Peace

The world is often noisy, filled with breaking headlines, buzzing phones, endless responsibilities, and restless hearts. It can feel like standing in the middle of a storm with winds pulling us in every direction. And yet, in the middle of chaos, there is a stillness, a quiet center where we can rest. This is the peace of Christ.

Advent invites us to remember that

Jesus is our peace.
He is our peace in the midst of confusion, trauma, trial, and tribulation.
He is our peace in the midst of everyday life as we balance family, work, community, and church.
His peace grounds us in our true identity as the beloved of Father, Son, and Spirit.

And the peace of Christ doesn’t stop there. It calls us to look forward—to a time when all will be at peace. This peace is more than the absence of conflict. It is a state of wholeness, calm, and deep connection to God and one another.

As we light the second candle of Advent, we ask:

Where do you need the peace of Christ most in your life right now?
How might you share his peace with someone else this week?

¹ A shoot will come up from the stump of Jesse;
    from his roots a Branch will bear fruit.
² The Spirit of the Lord will rest on him—
    the Spirit of wisdom and of understanding,
    the Spirit of counsel and of might,
    the Spirit of the knowledge and fear of the Lord—
³ and he will delight in the fear of the Lord.

He will not judge by what he sees with his eyes,
    or decide by what he hears with his ears;
⁴ but with righteousness he will judge the needy,
    with justice he will give decisions for the poor of the earth.
He will strike the earth with the rod of his mouth;
    with the breath of his lips he will slay the wicked.
⁵ Righteousness will be his belt
    and faithfulness the sash around his waist.

⁶ The wolf will live with the lamb,
    the leopard will lie down with the goat,
the calf and the lion and the yearling^[a] together;
    and a little child will lead them.
⁷ The cow will feed with the bear,
    their young will lie down together,
    and the lion will eat straw like the ox.
⁸ The infant will play near the cobra’s den,
    and the young child will put its hand into the viper’s nest.
⁹ They will neither harm nor destroy
    on all my holy mountain,
for the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the Lord
    as the waters cover the sea.

¹⁰ In that day the Root of Jesse will stand as a banner for the peoples; the nations will rally to him, and his resting place will be glorious.
Isaiah 11:1–10 (NIV)

In this second week of Advent, may we rest in the peace of Christ—peace that calms our hearts, restores our relationships, and points us to the wholeness of God’s coming kingdom.

Advent—Hope

A new year begins not with fanfare or fireworks, but with a flicker — a single flame lit in the darkness. This is how the Church begins its calendar: in quiet expectation. Advent invites us into a rhythm of looking back and looking forward. It’s a season of holy wonder, a time to stand in awe at the promises of God that stretch from the garden to the manger, from the prophets to the cross, from our present struggles to our eternal future.

In this first week of Advent, we begin with hope.

Not a fragile wish or vague optimism, but the deep, steady assurance that

Jesus is our hope.

Hope for the reality of forgiveness.

Hope for the truth of our identity.

Hope for the resurrection.

Hope for eternity with Father, Son, and Spirit.

The whole Old Testament speaks to this longing. Its poetry, its prophecies, and even its pain points us toward the coming of the Messiah. And now, we live in the in-between, between the first Advent of Christ and his promised return. And so, we wait, not in fear, but in faithful hope.

As we begin the new year in the worship calendar, let us ask ourselves: Where are we placing our hope? How might we reflect Christ’s hope to others this season?

In Matthew 24, Jesus speaks of the day and hour no one knows — the moment of his return.

“But about that day or hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. As it was in the days of Noah, so it will be at the coming of the Son of Man. For in the days before the flood, people were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, up to the day Noah entered the ark; and they knew nothing about what would happen until the flood came and took them all away. That is how it will be at the coming of the Son of Man. Two men will be in the field; one will be taken and the other left. Two women will be grinding with a hand mill; one will be taken and the other left.
Matthew 24:36-44

Therefore, keep watch, because you do not know on what day your Lord will come. But understand this: If the owner of the house had known at what time of night the thief was coming, he would have kept watch and would not have let his house be broken into. So you also must be ready, because the Son of Man will come at an hour when you do not expect him.”

Jesus doesn’t give us a date — he gives us a posture:

Stay awake. Stay ready. Stay rooted in hope.
The hope of Advent is not wishful thinking.
It is anchored in the faithfulness of God —
A God who keeps promises.
A God who entered our world and walks with us still.

In this season of Advent, let us watch and wait with hope, trusting in the One who has come, who is with us now, and who will come again in glory.

Christ the King Sunday—The Crown of the Year

There’s something powerful about a finish line. Runners pace themselves, pushing through fatigue with one thought in mind, what awaits at the end. That final stretch holds more than a ribbon or a medal; it represents the culmination of every step taken, every mile endured.
In the same way, Christ the King Sunday marks the finish line of our worship calendar — a crowning conclusion to a yearlong journey through the story of our salvation.

For some time now, we have been journeying through the long stretch of Ordinary Time—the Season after Pentecost. But it’s not ordinary because it lacks meaning. Rather, it’s the sacred stretch of everyday faithfulness, where the Spirit quietly builds the Church. Today, that journey finds its exclamation point. From the expectant hope of Advent to the glory of Easter, from the fire of Pentecost to this very moment, every season of the Christian year leads us to declare: Jesus is King.

Christ the King Sunday invites us to lift our gaze. Not to a throne fashioned by human hands, but to the One through whom all things were made. The One who holds all creation together. In him, the invisible becomes visible. He is not only the Savior of the world; he is the sovereign Lord of it.

The book of Colossians reminds us that Jesus is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. His reign is not distant or detached. It is intimate, redemptive, and all-encompassing. He is reconciling all things our past, our present, our future, by the blood of his cross. And today, we proclaim with joy and confidence: Christ reigns now and forever.

Christ the King Sunday is not just a celebration of who Jesus is, it’s a call to live under his lordship. It’s a holy reminder that in a world of competing powers, Jesus alone reigns with justice, mercy, and peace. As this liturgical year draws to a close, we rest in his kingship and look forward with hope. A new year begins next week with Advent, but today we crown the year with Christ.

“May you be strengthened with all power, according to his glorious might, for all endurance and patience with joy, giving thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of the saints in light.
He has delivered us from the domain of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.
He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation.
For by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things were created through him and for him.
And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together.
And he is the head of the body, the church. He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, that in everything he might be preeminent.
For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross.”

Christ the King Sunday reminds us that the story doesn’t end — it reigns. Jesus, the Alpha and Omega, calls us to step into a new season grounded in his sovereignty and shaped by his grace.

Speaking Of Life 1051 | Souls Under Construction

Jeff Broadnax

Have you ever had your home remodeled? You excitedly start with a vision of what will be, but once construction begins, you wonder if you should have ever started. The project disrupts your normal routine, makes the house messy, and usually takes far longer than anticipated.

Sound familiar? Well, only if you have gone through a home remodeling project…or…if you have experienced being “remodeled” by Jesus, the master carpenter.

C.S. Lewis, in his book, Mere Christianity, describes Jesus’ remodeling like this:

“Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of – throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.”

This quote is a good reminder of what the Father is doing in Jesus by the Spirit in our lives. His remodeling project may not be easy in the present, but our hope in the finished work moves us forward in joy.

The prophet Isaiah directed the people of Israel with similar words written with a cosmic scope.

[LOOK DOWN]

“Pay close attention now: I’m creating new heavens and a new earth. All the earlier troubles, chaos, and pain are things of the past, to be forgotten. Look ahead with joy. Anticipate what I’m creating: I’ll create Jerusalem as sheer joy, create my people as pure delight. I’ll take joy in Jerusalem, take delight in my people: No more sounds of weeping in the city, no cries of anguish.” (Isaiah 65:17-19 MSG)

[LOOK UP]

If you want to improve your house a little, a local handyman will probably do. But if you want to be a home where every square inch is overflowing in delight and joy…well, you will need a craftsman for that. His name is Jesus and he always finishes what he starts. The project he starts will be a lot bigger than you can imagine. But it will be well worth it.

I’m Jeff Broadnax, Speaking of Life

Speaking Of Life 4051 │ Life’s Paradox
Jeff Broadnax

I’ve been privileged to attend the births of our four children, and as a result, I have the utmost respect for mothers everywhere. Though I haven’t experienced it in my own body, I’ve witnessed the pain and the great courage my wife Karen endured as she birthed our kids. You may have heard the saying among women that “childbirth is the worst pain you’ll ever experience and the fastest you’ll forget.” This highlights the paradox that is the birth experience: out of great suffering, a new life is born. Great pain and great joy. Two contradictory aspects of the same experience that are both true. In our case, we suffered the grief of losing our second-born daughter in the birthing process but later experienced the euphoria of welcoming our only son and later his baby sister into the world.

We weren’t the first to wrestle with this highly personal family journey nor the more common emotional tension between joy and pain that touches all people in physical, emotional and even spiritual ways. Our world is a world of paradox. Think about the seasons. We witness the beauty and new life of spring and summer followed by the decay and apparent deadness of fall and winter. Yet we have difficulty holding the tension in our lives between the pleasures and joys of living with the inevitable sorrows of disappointment, loss, and grief.

Jesus’s disciples were no different from us. They were looking for some certainty, something to hold on to when Jesus prophesied about the temple’s destruction in Luke 21:5-19. Jesus told them that the temple would be destroyed, but rather than answer their questions about when this would happen, Jesus talked about other troubles they might encounter. Things like wars, earthquakes, famines, and persecution. If the disciples were feeling overwhelmed at the thought of the temple’s destruction, they had to be completely anxious after Jesus’ list of troubles to come.

After telling them all the terrible things that might happen in the future, Jesus invited them to embrace the tension of grief with a certainty of hope when he said:

Every detail of your body and soul—even the hairs of your head!—is in my care; nothing of you will be lost. Staying with it—that’s what is required. Stay with it to the end. You won’t be sorry; you’ll be saved.
Luke 21:18-19 (The Message)

Notice that Jesus did not tell them that their certainty would be found in knowing the exact dates or times of these troubles. Jesus didn’t tell them, “Oh, don’t worry. Nothing bad will ever happen to you.” Instead, Jesus reminded them that life is hard while reminding them that he had gone before and would never leave them.

Jesus’s solution to holding life’s paradox is to know that we are held, lovingly and tenderly by the One who knows how hard human life can be. “Staying with it” means not giving up looking for beauty and blessings in the ashes of sorrow and grief. It means trusting that our salvation will be birthed from living joyfully and participating in God’s love for others whenever we can.

Labor and birth are difficult, but a mother knows that holding the baby in her arms will be worth it. At other times, our life story requires us to endure more than we thought possible, but the Son of God, our elder brother Jesus says, “Sorrow won’t overcome you. Joy will be yours.”

The beautiful tension of life’s joys and sorrows will always be with us on this side of heaven, but we can rest assured that we are always in the care of our triune God.

I’m Jeff Broadnax, Speaking of Life.

Living in Hope and Faithfulness: 2 Thessalonians

There’s a tension every traveler knows when your plane is delayed, your train is late, or your ride hasn’t yet arrived. You stand at the curb or in the terminal, watching the minutes tick by, scanning for signs that it’s finally time to move forward. Do you grow restless? Lose confidence? Or do you stay ready, trusting the one who said they’re coming?

Waiting well requires faith.

In his second letter to the Thessalonians, Paul writes to a church in the tension of waiting, not for a train, but for the return of Jesus. These early believers were facing pressure, persecution, and false teachings. Some were tempted to give up. Others were tempted to give in. But Paul urges them: stand firm.

2 Thessalonians reminds us that what we hope for shapes how we live now.
Paul calls the church to remain faithful, hopeful, confident, and fearless, no matter what opposition they face. He reminds them that God is just, Jesus is coming, and his victory will bring justice and relief to all who trust in him.

He encourages them to hold fast to the traditions they received, to work diligently, and not to be shaken by fear or deception. This isn’t passive waiting, it’s active faithfulness. Even in the presence of evil and uncertainty, the people of God are called to endure, strengthened by grace and guarded by the love of Christ.

2 Thessalonians is a powerful reminder that waiting for Jesus is never wasted time. In the in-between, we are being shaped into a people of hope, endurance, and unwavering faith. So let us live as those who believe the promise: that Jesus will return, evil will not win, and our labor in the Lord is never in vain.

“So then, brothers, stand firm and hold to the traditions that you were taught by us, either by our spoken word or by our letter.
Now may our Lord Jesus Christ himself, and God our Father, who loved us and gave us eternal comfort and good hope through grace,
comfort your hearts and establish them in every good work and word.”

May the words of 2 Thessalonians remind us that the call to faithfulness is not a burden, but a grace filled invitation. In every trial, every delay, and every moment of uncertainty, we are not alone. We are strengthened by the hope of Christ’s return, sustained by his love, and established by his Spirit. So let us live each day with courage and conviction, shaped by the promise of his justice and the certainty of his presence, until he comes again.