I’m competitive with myself, with the weights, with life, with pretty much everything around me. So sometimes I skip rest days. Because who wants to take a break when there’s more to lift, more to do, more to “fix”?
But here’s the thing I’m learning in my years of experience (aka being old as my daughter would put it): skipping rest is not strength. It’s weakness dressed up in busyness.
Muscles grow when you recover, not when you grind nonstop. And muscles are a lot like other parts of our lives, including faith! Spiritual growth, emotional health, even leadership stamina all thrive in the spaces where we pause.
Rest isn’t optional. It’s resistance. It’s saying no to the things that aren’t going to move the needle.
It’s saying no to the lie that productivity equals value.
It’s telling the world (and yourself) that you trust God to keep working when you stop.
It’s bending the knee to a rhythm bigger than your to-do list.
Some of the best work I’ve ever done in the gym, in ministry, in life all started with a deliberate pause. A day off. A walk in the field. A quiet coffee without guilt. A slow evening with a one finger pour. The pause brings purpose to the process.
So take a breath. Step back. Turn off the blower, put the weights down, and let God do what only He can do. You’ll come back stronger. You’ll last longer. And you’ll probably be a lot less likely to look like a man riding a chicken.
Because rest is not laziness. Rest is resistance against burnout. And in a world that won’t stop demanding, that’s a radical act of faith.
Ok so I don’t rake leaves. I have far too many. Raking would be like trying to bail the Titanic with a coffee mug. So I use a blower. Well, that’s not even totally true because most of the time I’m just too lazy to blow that many leaves. I typically just mow them over and hope for the best. I’d need a blower the likes of a jet engine to handle the leaves properly and I’m too cheap to buy anything like that. Even though it would be fun to have!
Every fall, I spend hours in the lawn, mowing over piles of leaves and sending the clippings into a nice pile. Just to watch the next gust of wind scatter them back all over the yard.
And somewhere between the noise, the frustration, and the endless repetition, I realize: this is a picture of grace.
You see grace is a lot like blowing leaves. No matter how hard you try to get things perfectly clean, the mess keeps coming back. Then the second you think you’ve got it all under control. A mini vortex comes and messes it all up! So another pile, another reminder that this isn’t a one-time job.
I think that’s why Paul said, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Corinthians 12:9, ESV) Grace isn’t about a clean yard. It’s about the constant presence of God’s strength in our endless weakness. The harder we try the more the wind of temptation or boredom tends to come in and blow us away.
And if I’m being honest, there are days I want to just quit! Not life but I want to stop fighting the leaves, stop cleaning up messes, stop trying to make life look tidy. Then I remember. I can’t throw in the towel because grace doesn’t quit on me.
That’s what I remember every fall: Grace keeps showing up, leaf after leaf, sin after sin, failure after failure. It’s not neat. It’s not quiet. It’s not easy. But it’s real.
So now, when I hop on the mower and start another round, I don’t just see work. I see something like worship. Not the “hands raised, perfect harmony” kind. The kind that happens when you’re sweating through your hoodie. Covered in dust and leafy bits. Realizing that even in the noise and futility, God is there.
Because sometimes, the loudest reminder of grace comes with the roar of a zero turn and a cloud of leaf dust flying through the air.
Coming up next week:“The Discipline of Deadlifts and Devotion” where we’ll talk about why the gym might be one of the most honest places to learn about spiritual growth.
This Sunday, we dug into 1 Thessalonians 5:12–28. Paul wasn’t writing to pastors to tell them to toughen up. He was writing to the church to remind believers how to live together well.
Here’s the deal: God’s will for us isn’t complicated. It’s radical in its simplicity:
Honor those who lead you.
Encourage each other.
Live at peace.
Be patient.
Pray without ceasing.
That’s it. Nothing flashy. Nothing Instagram-worthy. Just daily, gritty, relational obedience.
Think about it. Honoring leaders isn’t just nodding smiling in a pew on Sunday. It’s supporting them, speaking well of them, and helping shoulder the weight of ministry.
Honoring one another isn’t just being polite. It’s listening, forgiving, serving, and speaking truth even when it’s hard or inconvenient.
Paul ends the letter reminding us: “May the God of peace himself sanctify you completely, and may your whole spirit and soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.” (1 Thessalonians 5:23, ESV)
Notice that “blameless” life he describes isn’t solo work. It’s built in community with leaders guiding, and with each of us doing our part to honor one another.
So here’s this week’s takeaway: Your faith doesn’t grow in isolation.
Faith grows in the way you treat people around you especially those who are leading. And that’s not optional. It’s the will of God in Christ for you.
Hey Jesus following types. Did you know that if you’re a Jesus follower then, following Jesus is not optional? I know that sounds crazy but too often we make it sound like it’s an option. We often live like we can choose if and when we decide to follow him.
Look I get it. It’s not always convenient. But it’s also not something you check off only when you have time.
It’s all in or nothing.
Your Calling Doesn’t Wait
Jesus didn’t say, “Follow Me when it’s easy.” He didn’t say, “Love when it’s comfortable.” He didn’t say, “Serve when it fits your schedule.”
He said, “Follow Me.” And nestled neatly in the unspoken part of that invitation and command to follow is the idea of every day. All the time. No excuses.
You see. Excuses don’t honor God. Fear doesn’t honor God. Comfort doesn’t glorify Him.
Your calling as a follower of Jesus is bigger than your doubts, your tiredness, your calendar, even your comfort zone.
Love Without Limits
If you’re waiting to love only the people who deserve it, you’ve missed the point. Not to mention you’ll be waiting a long time my friend!
Jesus didn’t love “only the good people.” He didn’t wait for the world to be nice first. He gave His life for people who hated Him, ignored Him, and rejected Him.
That’s the standard. Love without limits. Every time. No questions asked.
Serve Without Question
Service isn’t a hobby. It’s not a resume-builder. It’s a response to grace. Not grace shown you by the people you love but grace shown you by Jesus himself.
When the world says, “Why bother?” we say, “Because Jesus did.” When the world says, “What’s in it for me?” we say, “What’s in me for them?”
Serving isn’t convenient. It’s costly. It’s messy. It’s the Gospel in motion.
There are no participation trophies in Kingdom work. There’s no safe middle ground. There’s no “Jesus-lite” version of life. You either live it fully while loving, serving, giving, forgiving or you don’t.
No excuses. No apologies. All in.
Quick Challenge
Today, stop hiding behind busyness. Stop waiting for the “right moment.” Stop soft-pedaling your faith.
Pick up your cross. Love boldly. Serve fearlessly.
Because the world doesn’t need more spectators. It needs followers of Jesus, fully alive, fully committed, fully His.
Somewhere along the way, the Church (Kingdom of God globally) started acting like the church (congregations in local communities).
We traded Kingdom vision for congregational maintenance. We started measuring success by program attendance instead of life transformation. We have become more obsessed with our church’s growth than God’s Kingdom advancing.
And that’s a problem!
When the Church Becomes Too Small
Jesus didn’t die to build a church brand. He died to bring the Kingdom of God crashing into a broken world.
But many of us have started living like our congregation is the Kingdom. As if our membership rolls, our budget, our building projects, and our social media reach somehow equal the movement of God.
Too many of our prayers sound like “God, grow our church,” when they should sound like “God, grow Your Kingdom even if it’s not through us.”
You know what. That’s a dangerous shift. Because the moment we make church about our congregation instead of God’s Kingdom, we stop being the Church altogether.
The Kingdom is Bigger Than Your Logo
When Jesus talked about the Kingdom, He wasn’t talking about a brand, a denomination, or a Sunday morning time slot. He was talking about His reign breaking into every corner of the world.
“The kingdom of God is not coming in ways that can be observed… For behold, the kingdom of God is in the midst of you.” – Luke 17:20–21 (ESV)
The Kingdom is wherever Jesus rules hearts, heals the broken, forgives sinners, and sets captives free. That means it’s happening in homes, workplaces, schools, parks, prisons, and yep it’s happening in other churches too.
Look. If the only time we celebrate the work of God is when it happens in our building, we’re no longer building His Kingdom, we’re building our empire.
Kingdom Builders Don’t Compete – They Collaborate
A congregation-centered mindset says, “We’ve got to be the biggest.”
A Kingdom-centered mindset says, “We’ve got to reach the people far from Jesus, no matter who gets the credit.”
A congregation-centered leader says, “Come to our programs.”
A Kingdom-centered disciple says, “Go into the world starting in your neighborhood.”
When the early church grew, it wasn’t because Peter and Paul were trying to fill seats. It was because they couldn’t stop talking about Jesus. The Kingdom spread like wildfire because believers were scattered and sent, not settled and safe.
Pretty sure we need that again.
It’s Time to Think Bigger
I know all analogies break down over time. I get it. But here’s one to at least help us start seeing things a little differently.
Think of your congregation as a vehicle. And the Kingdom is the destination. And if the vehicle ever becomes more important than the mission (destination), we’ve lost our way. No kiddo ever gets in a car headed to Disney more excited about the car than the theme park. We should be the same way as the local church pointing people with great excitement to the Kingdom not the carpet.
Maybe the hard question we need to ask is this:
Would we still rejoice if revival broke out across our community and none of it happened under our roof?
Would we still celebrate if families met Jesus at another church down the road?
Would we still serve if no one ever knew our name?
If the answer is “no,” then we’ve confused church growth with Kingdom growth.
The Church is not a club to grow. It’s a movement to unleash.
Jesus didn’t tell us to build our own crowd. He told us to make disciples of all nations. That means, He didn’t say “grow your congregation.” He said “seek first the Kingdom of God.” (Matthew 6:33)
Don’t get me wrong. The local church can and should grow. But the local expression of church never should be more of a focus than the Kingdom of God.
So let’s stop playing small. Let’s stop guarding our corner of the Kingdom and start advancing it together. Let’s stop worrying about how big our church can get and start dreaming about how far His Kingdom can go.
Because the goal isn’t a full sanctuary. It’s a full heaven.
We all want something solid to stand on. Something that won’t shift when life shakes. Most of us know the feeling of watching the ground give way from health scares to job loss, from betrayal to grief. The question underneath all of it is this: Will I be okay when everything around me is not?
That’s the heartbeat of 1 Thessalonians 3. Paul isn’t writing theory. He’s writing with tears in his eyes, worrying about his friends, longing for them to be strong in the middle of the storm. And his answer is simple: God Himself will establish you.
Here are five things I learned from studying 1 Thessalonians 3:
1. God Sends People to Strengthen Us (vv. 1-2)
Paul can’t take the not-knowing anymore, so he sends Timothy. Not because Timothy is a superstar, but because he’s family in Christ and faithful in the gospel.
Timothy’s job is twofold:
To establish – to set their faith on a firm foundation.
To exhort – to come alongside and encourage them.
That word “come alongside” matters. Timothy isn’t shouting from a stage. He’s walking shoulder-to-shoulder, reminding them of what’s true. That’s how God works, through people He sends into your life to hold you steady.
Who has God sent to come alongside you when things weren’t going great?
2. Trouble Doesn’t Mean You’re Abandoned (vv. 3-5)
Paul says it bluntly: “You yourselves know that we are destined for this.” This, by the way, is affliction – suffering – yuck of life stuff! Suffering isn’t proof that God has walked away. It’s part of the Christian life.
But suffering is dangerous because it tempts us to believe lies. Lies that say God doesn’t care. Lies that say faith is pointless. Lies that say it’s easier to walk away. Paul fears the enemy will lure them off the foundation. That’s why Timothy’s presence is so crucial.
Bottom line: hardship isn’t the exception. It’s the expectation. But it’s not the end of the story.
3. Faith and Love Breathe Life (vv. 6-8)
Timothy comes back with good news: their faith is alive, their love is real, and they remember Paul kindly.
Paul’s reaction? “For now we live, if you are standing fast in the Lord.”
That’s wild. Paul ties his own sense of life to their perseverance. In other words your faith doesn’t just matter to you. It matters to the people around you. When you stand firm, others breathe easier. When you hold on, others find hope.
Who is your faith giving life to?
4. Faith Still Needs Mending (vv. 9-10)
Paul’s grateful, but he’s also honest: their faith still has gaps. He prays he can see them again and “supply what is lacking.”
Faith is like a fishing net. It needs constant mending. It’s not about shame or failure. It’s about being equipped, repaired, and made whole so it can hold when the pressure comes. None of us are finished products. So never stop learning and growing.
5. God Finishes What He Starts (vv. 11-13)
The chapter ends with Paul’s prayer:
God directs our steps.
God makes love overflow.
God establishes our hearts so we’re blameless when Christ returns.
Notice who does the heavy lifting: God! Paul and Timothy play their part, but God is the one who holds people steady.
That’s the anchor. Your grip may slip, but His won’t.
The Ever Famous So What!
You’re not alone. God sends people into your life to come alongside you. Don’t brush them off. They’re His gift.
Suffering doesn’t mean you’re forgotten. It’s part of the story, but not the end.
Your faith strengthens others. You may not realize it, but when you stand, you give someone else life.
God’s the one who establishes you. Your hope isn’t in your ability to hang on to God. It’s in His promise to hold you.
The Bottom Line
Storms will come. Lies will scream at you. Faith will feel fragile. But here’s the good news: Christ establishes you. He supplies what you lack. And He will hold you all the way to the end.
So stand firm. And when you can’t, look for the Timothys God has sent to come alongside you.
If you’ve turned on the news lately, you know the world feels loud and chaotic. Anger and division dominate headlines. Violence seems to hit closer and closer to home. Families are busy and stretched thin. Neighbors live side-by-side but hardly know one another.
In the middle of all that noise, people are searching for hope. Real hope. Not just another opinion, distraction, or temporary fix.
That’s why I love Paul’s words in 1 Thessalonians 1:1–10. He celebrates a small church in a chaotic city whose faith echoed with hope across the entire region.
“We give thanks… remembering your work of faith, your labor of love, and steadfastness of hope in our Lord Jesus Christ.” (v. 2-3)
The Thessalonians lived in a world full of political pressure, idol worship, and cultural division. But instead of blending in, their lives became an echo of hope. Why? Because they had anchored their lives in Jesus Christ risen from the dead, reigning now, and coming again.
That’s the heartbeat of the Bible’s story:
Abraham left home because of God’s promise.
Moses endured Pharaoh by clinging to God’s reward.
David sang of seeing God’s goodness even in the land of the living.
The prophets pointed forward to the Messiah who would set all things right.
And when Jesus came, hope took on flesh. His death looked like the end, but His resurrection proved hope is stronger than death. That same hope fueled the apostles through persecution and the Thessalonians through hardship.
And it’s the same hope we need today.
We do the exact same thing today. We put our trust in so many temporary things:
Hoping our team can bring joy on Saturdays or Sundays.
Hoping the housing market will finally settle down.
Hoping politics or new policies will finally fix what’s broken.
But all those hopes can disappoint. What we need is a hope that doesn’t crumble when the world shakes. A hope that holds steady in the chaos. And that hope is already here: Jesus Christ, crucified, risen, and returning.
At Living Word Galena, this is the echo we want ringing out in our neighborhoods:
Faith that trusts Jesus visibly in daily life.
Love that shows up in sacrificial action.
Hope that endures when everything else feels uncertain.
Because when our hope is in Christ, people notice. The gospel doesn’t just go in. It rings out.
So here’s the question for you this week: What’s echoing from your life? Fear, stress, and frustration? Or the steady hope of Jesus?
Our neighborhoods don’t need more noise. They need the echo of hope. And that’s exactly what God has already given us in His Son.
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.
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. Youhave 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.
At Living Word, we celebrate every time someone is baptized. Some people wonder, “Why make such a big deal about it? Isn’t Baptism just a personal, private moment between me and God?”
Simple answer: Baptism is never just private. It’s always communal. It’s always family.
This is why I rarely, if ever, will do a private baptism service. I’ve been asked on a number of occasions to perform a baptism in private because the person is shy or doesn’t want a big deal made of it. That’s like having a family reunion and not inviting your family. We just don’t do that. We want to celebrate and welcome you as part of our faith family!
Baptism brings us into God’s family
When you’re baptized, you’re not only united with Jesus. You’re united with His people. The Church isn’t a random collection of strangers who happen to sit in the same building on Sundays. It’s a family of believers marked by the same promise: “You are mine. I have called you by name. You are washed clean.”
That’s why Baptism is one of the most powerful reminders of what the Church really is. It’s not a club. It’s not a hobby. It’s not just a Sunday gathering. It’s a family born of water and the Spirit.
How Baptism reflects our values
When we celebrate Baptism, we are living out the very values that shape us as a church:
Life works best with Jesus. Baptism is where life in Christ begins. It’s the starting point of grace and a future anchored in Him.
We bring families and kids closer to Jesus. Baptism isn’t just for adults; it’s God’s promise for every generation. It reminds us that kids don’t have to “earn” God’s love by a faithful decision. They’re included from the start.
Jesus turns strangers into family here. A person walks into the water as one, and comes out belonging to many. In Baptism, God weaves us together.
We share Jesus’ love in our neighborhoods. Baptism isn’t the finish line. It’s the launchpad. We’re sent into the world as living witnesses of what Jesus has done.
A celebration for everyone
This is why the whole church gathers around the font. When a child is baptized, parents and sponsors are reminded that they’re not raising this child in faith alone. They have a whole community walking alongside them. When an adult is baptized, the entire church family celebrates with tears, applause, and joy, because we all know: this is a miracle of God’s grace.
And here’s the best part: every Baptism we witness is a reminder of our own. We get to rehearse the promises spoken over us: “I forgive you. I claim you. I call you my child.”
Looking ahead
This Sunday we’ll continue in our Washed series and dive into more of the deep truths of God’s grace poured out for us in the waters of baptism. We’ll see what it means to be “buried with Christ and raised to walk in newness of life.” Baptism isn’t just a splash of water on your past. It’s a whole new future.
Don’t miss it. Bring someone with you. Let’s celebrate together.
Baptism isn’t just a moment in your life. It’s the beginning of a family that lasts forever.
