Category: Catalyst (Page 3 of 35)

A catalyst is one that sparks something. The catalyst speaks from experience and enables others to move forward more freely. These articles are written to act as a catalyst in your life.

Why I Haven’t Preached on the Death of Charlie Kirk

September 22, 2025 / Derrick Hurst / 4 Comments

Some people want to know why I haven’t addressed the assassination of Charlie Kirk from the pulpit. Let me be blunt: it’s not because I don’t care. I care deeply. The death of any human being, especially someone who sought to serve God, is tragic. But my calling as a pastor is not to turn the pulpit into a press conference for my opinions.

Lutherans have long held to what’s called the theology of the two kingdoms. God rules the world in two ways: through the kingdom of the temporary (government, civic life, law) and the kingdom of the eternal (the Gospel, forgiveness, eternal life). Both belong to God. But they are not the same. And when pastors confuse the two, the Church loses its voice.

Here’s the truth: I will not hijack Jesus’ pulpit to carry water for any political agenda – left or right. That’s not what I was ordained to do. I don’t preach left or right. I preach the hands of a Savior stretched out on a cross, reaching to the left and to the right, to forgive us all.

Do I think Charlie Kirk’s death is horrific? Yes. Do I think the endless stream of abortions, suicides, wars, and injustices are also horrific? Absolutely. Which one deserves more outrage? That’s a political debate. But the pulpit is not a podium for outrage. The pulpit is the place for Christ crucified for sinners, for the broken, for all of us.

If you want political hot takes, there are endless pundits who will give them to you. If you want to know where I personally stand, we can sit down and talk. But if you want the living Word of God, the one thing that actually saves, you’ll hear it every Sunday from this pulpit, unfiltered and undistracted by the latest headlines.

It doesn’t mean that I’m avoiding hard truths by any means. Because we can head on address the truths of this world in winsome ways without calling on names other than the name of Jesus. We can decry violence because that’s what Jesus did. We can serve our neighbors because that’s exactly what Jesus did. We can embrace our neighbors regardless of walk of life, because that’s what Jesus did.

We can do all of these things without standing on the temporary ground of political debates. So yes, I do have very strong opinions. I will gladly share those with inquiring minds in one on one settings when the invitation arises. I have thoughts but rarely do people ask about those thoughts.

Friends at the end of the day, kingdoms rise and fall, voices rage, and leaders die. But only one Word endures forever. And that’s the Word I am called to preach. That’s the Word that I will continue to proclaim. That’s what FREEDOM in the FAITH looks like.

5 Steps to Show Up For Your City

September 11, 2025 / Derrick Hurst / 0 Comments

If you’re planting a church, leading a growing congregation, or simply longing to see your city reflect the love of Jesus, hear this: your prayers need to come with feet attached.

We talk about being the light of the world. But light only matters when it’s positioned where darkness is already present. That’s neighborhoods, schools, city halls, and local nonprofits. These are the places where life is messy, complicated, and often desperate for hope.

The question is: how do you move from good intentions to real impact? It’s actually far more simple than we might realize. You go to the people who are already shaping your city and you show up.

Step 1: Start With Relationships

You can’t build a community partnership with an email or a flyer. Relationships are forged over tables, coffee, shared stories, and honest conversations. That means scheduling time with people. People like:

Your mayor or city council
School principals and superintendents
Local business owners
Police and fire leadership
Nonprofits already serving the community

And when you sit down, don’t pitch. Don’t lead with, “Here’s what we can do for you.” Lead with:

“Where do you see the biggest needs in our city?”
“What challenges are keeping families or neighborhoods from thriving?”
“How can a church like ours come alongside the work you’re already doing?”

The answers will be a roadmap and frankly a wake-up call.

Step 2: Listen, Then Act

Listening isn’t passive. It’s the first step toward kingdom-aligned action. When you hear the heartbeat of your city, you start to see patterns: maybe youth need mentoring, single parents need support, or elderly neighbors are isolated.

From there, you don’t just talk about helping. You actually mobilize your church. That might mean:

Launching tutoring programs or after-school activities
Hosting community service days or neighborhood cleanups
Partnering with local nonprofits on food, clothing, or mentorship initiatives
Providing space for civic meetings or family workshops

Each of these steps isn’t just community service. It’s the Gospel in action. People see Jesus in the care, in the presence, in the hands willing to serve.

Step 3: Be Consistent, Not Opportunistic

A one-time event doesn’t build trust. Showing up consistently does. The church that wants to see Jesus’ love transform a city absolutely has to:

Keep showing up at the right tables
Follow through on commitments
Celebrate wins with community partners
Keep learning and adjusting based on the needs of real people

Consistency communicates: we’re not here for headlines. We’re here for people.

Step 4: Invite Others to Join

The power of the church is not in one pastor, one planter, or one congregation. It’s in the body of Christ moving together. Invite your leadership team, small groups, and members to participate. Mobilize volunteers with a clear purpose, not just busywork.

Encourage people to use their gifts: carpentry, mentoring, teaching, cooking, or simply listening
Make service personal: connect volunteers directly with real families, kids, or neighbors
Share stories: when people see the impact, they’re inspired to engage even more

Step 5: Measure Kingdom Impact, Not Just Attendance

Church planting (church in general) and community work isn’t about filling pews. It’s about transforming neighborhoods and lives. Ask yourself:

Are families more supported?
Are kids thriving?
Are neighborhoods safer and stronger?
Are people seeing Jesus in tangible ways?

If the answer is yes, your church isn’t just existing. It’s advancing the Kingdom.

A Bold Challenge

Stop waiting for permission. Stop waiting for the perfect program. Stop waiting for everything to line up.

Go meet your mayor. Sit with your principal. Show up where the people are. Ask questions. Listen. Serve. Repeat.

When you lead this way, your church won’t just be a building on a corner. It will be a force for transformation, a living expression of Jesus’ love breaking into your city, one relationship at a time.

This is post three in the series Church On The Corner. Check out post one where we navigated real questions that garner partnership with civic leaders. And post two that dealt with posture in community partnerships.

Enough is Enough.

September 11, 2025 / Derrick Hurst / 2 Comments

We are drowning in a culture of violence. From school shootings to political hatred, from homes torn apart to neighborhoods living in fear – it’s everywhere. And it’s not just “out there.” It’s here. It’s in our backyards and workplaces. It’s in our communities and even in our neighborhoods.

Kids are growing up without dads and moms. Wives are burying their husbands. Families are shattered, futures stolen. And for what? Because we’ve convinced ourselves that if someone thinks differently, votes differently, believes differently, or looks differently they’re disposable.

So here it is as plain as I can say it: disagreement is not a license to destroy.
Having a different opinion is not an invitation to yell, dehumanize, or harm.

It’s time to stop hiding behind screens. Time to stop shrugging our shoulders like nothing can change. It’s time to be human again. To remember that every person carries the image of God. To teach our kids that compassion is stronger than cruelty. To choose peace not because it’s easy, but because violence is destroying us.

Talking isn’t enough anymore. We must live differently. We must love differently. We must fight for life, not take it away.

Because this world doesn’t need more rage. It needs more courage, more kindness, and more humanity.

When the Church Shows Up, Jesus Breaks In

September 10, 2025 / Derrick Hurst / 0 Comments

I’ve planted a church. I’ve walked streets where the buildings are strong, but the people feel invisible. And I’ve learned something loud and clear: Jesus doesn’t wait for people to come to Him. He breaks into lives, neighborhoods, and communities where He is invited – and sometimes, even where He isn’t.

Church planting isn’t just about starting a Sunday service or filling a building. It’s about being the kind of church that interrupts the normal flow of life with love that looks like Jesus. And here’s the deal: that only happens when the church gets out of the building.

Communities Don’t Wait

An unspoken truth that might need to be spoken more frequently is that communities don’t stop spinning because your church calendar is full. People aren’t waiting for a bulletin or a sermon to find hope. They’re looking at the people around them and asking, “Who’s going to care?”

If you want your church to matter, if you want your neighborhood to see the Kingdom of God in action, you’ve got to stop waiting for them to show up. You have to show up. Boldly. Intentionally. With hands ready to serve and ears ready to listen.

The Church Is a Light, Not a Lobbyist

Church planting isn’t about influence for influence’s sake. It’s not about programs or perks or trying to be the community’s “solution.” It’s about Jesus’ love being tangible in a broken world. That might mean helping with after-school programs, hosting community cleanups, mentoring youth, or simply sitting at tables of influence and listening.

When a church steps into a city with this posture, something amazing happens: people start to see Jesus before they ever hear a word of the Gospel. Neighborhoods start to feel safer. Families start to feel cared for. And slowly, the Kingdom begins to grow, not because of strategy alone, but because of a rhythm of faithful presence.

Start With Listening

But here’s where many churches miss it: if you want to plant a church that transforms, you cannot start with what you want to do. Start with listening. Sit with the mayor. Meet the principal. Talk to business owners. Ask your neighbors where they see gaps, needs, and struggles.

Questions like these can change everything:

“Where do you see the biggest unmet needs in our community?”
“What keeps families, kids, or neighbors from thriving?”
“How can a local church show up in a way that actually matters?”

When you ask, you’re not just gathering intel. You’re showing that Jesus’ love is practical, relational, and real.

Ok I get it. Church planting is risky. Showing up in neighborhoods can feel uncomfortable. Asking tough questions and admitting you don’t have all the answers takes humility. But here’s the punchline: Jesus shows up where the church shows up.The Kingdom doesn’t advance in boardrooms alone; it advances in neighborhoods, streets, and living rooms where His people are willing to step in.

Your Neighborhood Is Waiting

So here’s the challenge for every pastor, church planter, and leader reading this: stop planning the perfect program first. Stop waiting for perfect conditions. Stop talking about “serving the community” as if it’s a theoretical essay.

Get out. Ask questions. Listen. Serve. Love. Repeat.

When the church shows up like that, Jesus doesn’t just bless your efforts. He breaks in. Lives change. Families heal. Neighborhoods start to reflect His Kingdom. And the local church? It becomes exactly what it was always meant to be: a home for the hope the world is missing.

Why the Church Needs to Show Up in the Community

September 8, 2025 / Derrick Hurst / 0 Comments

When’s the last time you sat across the table from your mayor, city council member, or school superintendent not to complain, not to lobby, but simply to listen?

Too many churches talk about “being the hands and feet of Jesus” but never step into the very community where those hands and feet belong. If the Church is going to matter in 2025 and beyond, we have to stop hiding inside our sanctuaries and start showing up in city hall, school board meetings, and local events.

And here’s the kicker: it starts by asking the right questions.

The Wrong Approach

Most pastors and church leaders walk into meetings with city officials ready to pitch. Here’s our program. Here’s our event. Here’s why you should support us.

It’s well-intentioned, but it puts us in the driver’s seat of a conversation we shouldn’t even be steering. Civic leaders don’t need more pitches. They need partners.

The Right Approach

Instead, what if we walked in with genuine curiosity? What if our posture was, “We want to hear your heartbeat for this community, and we’re here to ask how we can serve”?

That shift in posture changes everything. It says:

We’re not here for power. We’re here for people.
We’re not trying to use the community to grow our church. We’re trying to serve the community because we are the church.
We’re not coming with all the answers. We’re here to listen.

Five Questions That Open Doors

If you want to build real relationships with community leaders, you need questions that unlock their vision and invite collaboration. I recently met with the leaders in my community and here are five questions that I used:

“From your perspective, what do you see as the biggest opportunities and challenges facing our city right now?”
(This honors their leadership and gives you a pulse on the community. It also shows you as a leader where the biggest needs are through the eyes of the very men and women leading the charge.)
“What are some of the priorities you’re most passionate about for the future of this community?”
(This digs beneath the job title and into the heart of the leader. You can hear their heart come through. This question helped let the guard down. The response wasn’t a cookie cutter answer but really opened the heart.)
“Where do you see gaps in community life? What are some areas where families, kids, or neighborhoods could use more support?”
(This helps you identify where the church could step up and fill a need. Remember the posture of the church isn’t to be the savior or even have all the answers. Our posture should be that of a strategic partner to help lift the arms of the community leaders to support the work they’re already doing.)
“How can local churches come alongside the city to help strengthen the community?”
(This signals you’re not just asking what’s in it for us. Instead, you’re asking what’s needed from us. This is a partnership kind of question instead of a church as hero kind of approach.)
“What would you like to see more of from civic organizations, nonprofits, or churches in town?”
(This opens the door to expectation-setting and future opportunities.)

Why This Matters

Look. Jesus didn’t sit in the synagogue waiting for people to wander in. He walked into villages, sat with community leaders, dined with tax collectors, and asked people questions. If our Lord Himself thought it was important to sit at tables of influence and listen, shouldn’t His Church do the same?

When we show up and ask good questions, walls come down. Strangers become partners. Leaders stop seeing “the church” as a disconnected institution and start seeing us as allies in the work of building a thriving community.

The Challenge

Here’s the bold truth: the Church is irrelevant in a city where leaders don’t know our names.

So go schedule that meeting. Sit down with your mayor, your school principal, your police chief. And don’t go in ready to pitch your next event. Go in ready to ask better questions.

Because the future of the Church in your community won’t be built on programs or platforms. It’ll be built on relationships. And relationships start with a question.

3 Life Lessons I Learned on Vacation

August 19, 2025 / Derrick Hurst / 1 Comment

Vacations are supposed to be about rest and fun, but they have a funny way of teaching you life lessons, too. On my recent getaway, God reminded me of a few things, some lighthearted and some challenging, that I think are worth sharing.

1. There’s always someone less fit than you, so stop hiding from the sun.
It’s easy to get self-conscious at the pool or the beach. But here’s the truth: there’s always going to be someone in worse shape than you and someone in better shape than you. The key? Don’t let insecurity steal your joy. Be grateful for the body God’s given you, flaws and all. Try to just enjoy the moment. Psalm 139:14 reminds us, “I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.” That truth doesn’t take a vacation.

2. Be content, but never complacent.
I noticed something while on vacation: there are always people who can do more than you…and people who can do less. That’s life. Instead of comparing yourself, focus on growing. Be content with where God has you, but also push yourself to be stronger, wiser, and more faithful than you were yesterday. Philippians 4:11 says, “I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content,” but contentment doesn’t mean laziness. It means gratitude in motion.

3. Memories last longer than money.
This one is hard for me. I tend to want to be wise and careful with money (and we should be by the way), but God reminded me that while money comes and goes, memories are what we carry to the grave. The laughter over a shared meal, the sunset you watched with someone you love, the silly inside jokes – those are treasures no bank account can hold. Jesus even said in Matthew 6:20, “Lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven.” Sometimes those treasures are the moments we make with the people we love.

Vacations end, the tan fades, the suitcase gets unpacked…but the lessons stick with you. And maybe, just maybe, the best souvenirs aren’t things you buy. They’re truths you carry home in your heart.

Grace Is the Antidote

August 4, 2025 / Derrick Hurst / 0 Comments

(Part 4 of 4 in the “Performing or Belonging?” series)

Here’s the truth we keep forgetting: Grace breaks the performance cycle.
Not self-help. Not good vibes. Not “trying harder.”
Grace.

You can’t earn it. You don’t deserve it. And you can’t fake your way into it.

That’s why it changes everything.

Because for all our pretending, performing, curating, and impressing we’re still empty. Approval from others can’t fill the ache inside. Belonging built on performance is not real. You know it. I know it. We’ve lived it.

We’ve dressed up our shame in Sunday clothes. We’ve spiritualized burnout. We’ve convinced ourselves that if we do just a little more, serve a little harder, believe a little stronger, maybe then we’ll be enough.

But grace doesn’t play that game.

Grace doesn’t need your résumé.
Grace doesn’t require a filter.
Grace doesn’t say, “Clean yourself up first.”

Grace walks into the mess, locks eyes with you, and says, “You’re loved. Right now. As is.”

If that doesn’t make you uncomfortable, you’re not hearing it right.

Because deep down, we think we have to earn it. We want to earn it. It would feel safer, more predictable. But grace doesn’t reward the impressive, it rescues the desperate.

Jesus didn’t die for your performance. He died for you.

Not the cleaned-up version. Not the leader you pretend to be. Not the parent you wish you were. You. The real you. The you as you are. Warts and all.

The cross is proof that God knows the real you and still chooses you. The resurrection is proof that He didn’t just forgive your past. He’s giving you a whole new way to live.

So breathe.

You don’t have to perform anymore.
You don’t have to hustle for love.
You don’t have to keep pretending that everything’s fine.

Grace means you can finally be honest.
Grace means you can finally rest.
Grace means you can finally belong.

And now? Now we build from that place.

Not out of fear but freedom.
Not to earn love but because we already have it.
Not to impress but to invite others into this same grace-drenched reality.

This is the final part of our Performing or Belonging? series.

We’ve called out the exhaustion of faking it.
We’ve faced our addiction to approval.
We’ve named our deep hunger to truly belong.
And now we end where real life begins: grace.

Not cheap grace. Not watered-down theology.
But the gritty, costly, cross-shaped grace that dismantles our illusions and sets us free.

So here’s your call:
Take off the mask.
Kill the performance.
Step into the grace that says, “You are mine.”

It’s time to stop striving.
It’s time to belong.

We’re Starving for Something Real

July 28, 2025 / Derrick Hurst / 0 Comments

(Part 3 of 4 in the “Performing or Belonging?” series)

We were made for connection.
Not Wi-Fi. Not group texts. Not “likes.”
Real connection. The kind where someone sees you, hears you, and stays.

But let’s be honest: that’s rare. And that rarity is saddening.

Most of us walk through life surrounded by people but are suffocating from loneliness. We go to parties, small groups, even worship services and still feel like nobody really knows us. We crack a joke, scroll some memes, post a photo, and call it “community.” But deep down, we know we’re starving.

Starving for real conversations.
Starving for safe places.
Starving for the kind of love that doesn’t flinch when we get honest.

Why? Because we’re wired for belonging. It’s not a wish or a pipe dream. It’s built into our soul.

God said, “It is not good for man to be alone.” And He wasn’t just talking about marriage. He was naming a core human need: to be seen and embraced in the context of relationship. Being alone was the first not good thing mentioned in the Bible.

But somewhere along the way, we stopped believing that was possible. So we settled.

We settled for surface-level friendships.
We settled for performative “community” where image matters more than honesty.
We settled for churches where connection ends at the door and vulnerability never makes it past the welcome team.

And that’s not just sad. It’s dangerous.

Because when we don’t belong, we break. Not all at once. Slowly, over time.
We isolate. We numb. We drift. We start thinking something’s wrong with us when really, the problem is we’ve been faking intimacy in systems built for applause, not authenticity.

And the church has sometimes made it worse.

We’ve taught people how to serve before teaching them how to connect.
We’ve emphasized theology without embodying hospitality.
We’ve built programs but neglected people.

But there’s good news: belonging is still possible.
Because Jesus didn’t just save souls. He built a family.
He took tax collectors and zealots, doubters and sinners, introverts and loudmouths, and said, “You’re mine. You belong.”

And if there’s one place in the world where masks should come off and stories should get told, it should be the church.

Not a church full of shiny people pretending everything’s fine.
A church full of real people with real baggage and real grace.
A church where someone says, “I’ve been through hell,” and the reply isn’t silence, it’s “You’re not alone.”

That’s the kind of community the world is longing for.
Not another event. Not another doctrinally packed sermon.
A place to belong before you believe, behave, or have it all figured out.

So here’s the question: Are we brave enough to build it?

Not perfectly. Not instantly. But intentionally.
With small steps, awkward moments, honest stories, and persistent love.

This post is Part 3 of 4 in the Performing or Belonging? series.
Next week we’ll dive into: “Grace Is the Antidote” discovering how Jesus dismantles our need to perform and gives us a better way to live, love, and build something real.

You don’t have to settle for shallow.
You were made for more.
Let’s stop pretending. Let’s build belonging.

When Approval Becomes a Drug

July 21, 2025 / Derrick Hurst / 0 Comments

(Part 2 of 4 in the “Performing or Belonging?” series)

Let’s be honest, most of us are addicted to approval.

We don’t call it that. We call it being “driven,” “motivated,” “on our game.” But underneath the hustle is a hunger: Please notice me. Please like me. Please tell me I’m enough.

And if you think that’s not you, ask yourself this:

Why did you rewrite that text three times before sending it?
Why did you say yes when everything in you wanted to say no?
Why did that one piece of criticism stick in your head for a week straight?

We perform because we’re afraid.
Afraid of not measuring up. Afraid of being forgotten. Afraid that if we stop doing, we’ll stop mattering.

This world teaches us that worth is earned. That people only love winners. That image is everything. And that grind? It sneaks into every part of life including the church.

Somewhere along the line, we confused Christian faith with Christian performance. “Be a better spouse. Be a better parent. Read more Bible. Serve more. Smile while you do it.” It starts to feel less like grace and more like a spiritual rat race.

And people are tired of it? They are leaving the church over it. Not because they’re rejecting Jesus, but because they’re drowning in pressure they think He put on them.

But He didn’t.

Jesus didn’t say, “Come to me, all you who are killing it and crushing your goals.”
He said, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28, ESV)

Rest. Not reward for achievement. Not applause. Not another list of tasks. Rest. The kind that sinks deep into your bones and tells your soul, “You can stop performing. You’re already loved.”

That’s the gospel. And it is absolutely scandalous.

Because it means that the addict doesn’t have to hide.
The burned-out mom doesn’t have to fake it.
The guy battling depression doesn’t need to pretend he’s fine.
The believer with questions doesn’t need to perform certainty.

God doesn’t love the cleaned-up version of you. He loves the real you. The messy, insecure, unfinished, struggling version.

When we chase approval, we end up exhausted and empty. But when we root ourselves in grace, something radical happens. We start living from love, not for it.

And that changes everything.

You don’t have to prove your value. You don’t have to earn your belonging. You don’t have to perform your way into community. Not here. Not with Jesus.

Let’s call it what it is: performing is easier than being real, but it’s a prison.
It gives quick hits of affirmation and long stretches of isolation.

But belonging? That’s the long road to freedom. It’s messy, vulnerable, and sacred. And it’s worth every ounce of the effort.

This is Part 2 of 4 in our series on Performing or Belonging?
Next up: “The Longing to Belong” because every one of us is wired to be fully known and fully loved. And it’s time to stop settling for shallow substitutes.

Why Everyone’s Tired of Faking It

July 14, 2025 / Derrick Hurst / 0 Comments

(Part 1 of 4 in the “Performing or Belonging?” series)

It often goes without saying – we’re exhausted.

Not from work. Not from parenting. Not from the latest crisis-of-the-week. So many people exhausted from pretending.

Smiling when we’re breaking. Posting like we’re thriving. Walking into rooms, churches included, wondering if we’re being judged for not having it all together.

We’ve been trained to perform. Perform at school. Perform at work. Perform in our friendships. Even perform at church. And somewhere along the way, we got the twisted idea that love, acceptance, and community were things we earn by being impressive.

But here’s the truth: Performance-based belonging is killing us. Slowly, quietly, spiritually.

You feel it, don’t you?

That subtle anxiety before walking into a room, wondering if you’ll be enough. That instinct to sanitize your story before telling it. That inner voice whispering, “Don’t let them see the real you. They couldn’t handle it.”

And the wild part? We’ve made this normal! We celebrate “being polished.” We admire the curated feed. We’ve confused authenticity with oversharing and vulnerability with weakness. But deep down, we all want the same thing: to be known and still loved. No mask. No pretense.

But we’ve bought into the lie that if we’re real, we’ll be rejected. So we keep performing. Keep managing our image. Keep walking into spaces like churches, friendships, even family dinners and thinking, “Don’t screw this up. Be who they want you to be.”

Let’s call it what it is: fake community. It’s shallow, it’s exhausting, and it’s not what God designed us for.

Want to know the truth? You were never meant to perform for love. You were made to belong in it. Real belonging doesn’t ask you to audition. It doesn’t hand you a mask. Real belonging walks into your mess and says, “Yeah, I see it. I still choose you.”

That’s what Jesus does.

No pretense. No filter. He doesn’t wait for you to clean yourself up. He doesn’t bless the fake version of you. He meets the real you tired, broken, guarded and offers something this world can’t: grace.

And if grace is real, then performance can die.

It’s time to stop faking it. It’s time to stop trying to impress people we don’t trust to love us. It’s time to build something better. It’s time for real relationships, real community, where masks aren’t needed and performance isn’t currency.

That kind of community doesn’t happen by accident. It takes guts. It takes honesty. And even a little faith. But I believe it’s possible. And if I’m being honest, I believe the church should lead the way.

Not with cheesy slogans. Not with religious guilt trips. But with raw stories, open doors, and the kind of love that says, “You don’t have to pretend here.”

If you’re tired of performing – then good. That’s the first step to finding something real.

This is Part 1 of 4 in a series exploring the tension between performing and belonging. Next up: The Pressure to Perform and why we chase approval like our lives depend on it (because for many of us, it feels like they do).

Let’s stop performing. Let’s start belonging.

Category: Catalyst (Page 3 of 35)

Why I Haven’t Preached on the Death of Charlie Kirk

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