If Christmas had a tagline, it might be John 3:16: “For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son.” Talk about the ultimate gift exchange! God didn’t give us something small or temporary—He gave His best, Jesus, to bring us back to Him.
And here’s the kicker: Jesus didn’t come to condemn the world but to save it. That’s a part of the story we often leave out. We love that he came to save us, but often act as if he came to have us condemn the world around us. Not cool friends!
Imagine a Christmas where everyone gets a second chance—a fresh start wrapped in the love of God. That’s what Jesus offered you and what he calls us to offer one another.
This season, as you wrap gifts and share cookies, remember the greatest gift of all: God’s extravagant love, packaged in a manger and delivered to your heart.
Reflection: How can you reflect God’s love to others this Christmas?
Application: Spread the love! A smile, a kind word, or an act of generosity could be just the gift someone needs.
Mary’s song, known by many as the Magnificat, is a joyful shout of hope! Imagine a teenager singing her heart out because she was chosen for an extraordinary role. This song is filled with praise as she praises God for lifting up the humble and keeping His promises.
Her song is like a favorite Christmas carol you can’t stop singing—it overflows with gratitude and awe. Mary’s song reminds us that God often doesn’t work through the mighty. He regularly chooses the unexpected to fulfill His plans.
Reflection: What are you singing about this season? Is your heart full of gratitude like Mary’s?
Application: Celebrate that God can use even you for His amazing purposes.
Just look around. Our pews are emptying, not filling. Our younger generations are leaving, not staying. In a world desperate for truth, love, and purpose, we’re offering shallow programs, culture wars, and clichés. We preach grace but practice judgment. We sing about God’s power while hoarding human control. The gap between the Jesus of the Bible and the Christianity we practice has grown so wide it threatens to swallow us whole.
We need a new Reformation.
The original Reformation in the early 1500s, led by Martin Luther and several others, exposed how far the church had strayed from the gospel. At its core the Reformation was a cry to return to Scripture and reclaim God’s authority. They dealt with issues of indulgences (selling of forgiveness) and excessive emphasis on paying for salvation with good deeds and with money.
Today, the issue isn’t selling indulgences; it’s peddling irrelevance. We’ve exchanged the radical call of Jesus to love God and neighbor for cheap entertainment, partisan politics, and a consumer mindset.
We’ve turned church into a product—marketed, polished, and packaged to please the masses. And when people inevitably see through the facade, they leave. Some leave the faith altogether. Others leave for churches that embrace authenticity, however messy it may be.
The Weight of Our Failure
This is where the pain sets in. We’re not just losing attendees; we’re losing credibility. The broader culture sees the church as judgmental, hypocritical, and frankly out of touch. How can we blame them? We preach about the sanctity of life while ignoring the cries of the marginalized. We talk about Jesus’ love but fail to embody that love in our own homes, neighborhoods, and communities.
It’s easy to point fingers at the culture for abandoning Christian values. But maybe the culture didn’t abandon us. Maybe we abandoned the Jesus they need to see.
This is bigger than declining numbers or shrinking influence. It’s about souls. People are walking away from the hope of Jesus because they don’t see it in us.
The good news? Reformation isn’t about destruction; it’s about renewal. The first Reformation didn’t burn the church to the ground. It called it back to its foundation. Today’s Reformation must do the exact same thing.
We don’t need better branding. We need deeper discipleship. We don’t need bigger buildings. We need communities that feel like family. And we certainly don’t need more culture wars. We need to take up the only war Jesus called us to fight: against sin, darkness, and injustice.
This new Reformation must start with humility. The American church doesn’t need a PR strategy; it needs repentance. Let’s confess where we’ve put comfort over calling, self-righteousness over servanthood, and fear over faith.
The church also needs courage. The truth is, a reformed church won’t make everyone happy. But our goal isn’t to please people; it’s to glorify God. Let’s have the guts to challenge the idols we’ve built in His name—idols of politics, tradition, and power.
A reformed church could be a breathtaking force for good. Imagine churches known for their generosity, not their greed. Imagine Christians famous for their kindness, not their outrage. Imagine communities transformed because the love of Jesus shines so brightly that people can’t help but be drawn to it.
We’ve seen glimpses of this throughout history. The early church grew because it loved so radically that outsiders said, “See how they love one another!” The Wesleyan revival in England led to societal reforms that changed the nation. The Jesus Movement of the 70s brought countless young people to faith.
God isn’t done with His church. But He’s waiting for us to stop clinging to the past and start embracing His future.
The new Reformation won’t come from church growth seminars or celebrity pastors. It will come from ordinary Christians rediscovering what it means to follow Jesus. It will come from pastors bold enough to preach the gospel and lead with integrity. It will come when we stop playing church and start being the church.
Let’s not wait for someone else to start it. Revival begins in hearts, homes, and local congregations like yours and mine. Let’s pray for it. Let’s work for it. Let’s believe for it.
The world doesn’t need more American Christianity. It needs more Jesus. Are we ready to give it to them?
Gratitude has an incredible way of reshaping how we see the world. When we take the time to give thanks, our perspective shifts from what we lack to what we have, from what’s wrong to what’s right. In a culture that constantly tells us we need more—more success, more possessions, more accolades—thanksgiving refocuses our hearts toward contentment and opens our eyes to God’s daily work in our lives.
This isn’t just some feel-good idea. It’s a core biblical truth. In Philippians 4:6-7, Paul writes, “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”
Did you catch that? Thanksgiving leads to peace. When we cultivate gratitude, it doesn’t mean all our problems disappear, but it does change how we approach them. Instead of fixating on our challenges, we become more aware of God’s provision, faithfulness, and presence.
This shift in focus isn’t just some ethereal spiritual exercise. It’s actually transformative. When we’re thankful, we begin to see life through a different lens—one that highlights God’s blessings, both big and small. It’s easy to notice the obvious gifts, like family, friends, or answered prayers. But thanksgiving also helps us recognize the quieter blessings: the sunrise that greeted us this morning, the strength to face another day, or the peace that carried us through a storm we didn’t think we’d survive.
The more we practice gratitude, the more attuned we become to what God is doing in our lives. Suddenly, moments that might have seemed mundane take on new meaning. The kindness of a stranger feels like God’s hand at work. The resolution of a small problem becomes a reminder of His care. Thanksgiving trains our hearts to see the sacred in the ordinary, and in doing so, it draws us closer to God.
This closeness is the foundation for spiritual growth. As we acknowledge God’s goodness, our trust in Him deepens. We’re reminded of His faithfulness in the past, which strengthens our faith for the future. Thanksgiving also keeps us humble, grounding us in the truth that every good and perfect gift comes from above (James 1:17).
But gratitude isn’t automatic; it’s a choice. It requires intentionality, especially when life feels hard. On those days when thanksgiving doesn’t come naturally, we can still choose to start small. Write down three things you’re thankful for each day. Speak a prayer of gratitude before you get out of bed in the morning. Keep a journal of God’s faithfulness, and revisit it when doubt creeps in.
The more you practice being thankful, the more gratitude will become a habit. And as it does, you’ll find yourself more in tune with God’s presence and purposes in your life. Thanksgiving is more than a holiday; it’s a powerful spiritual discipline. It sets the stage for joy, peace, and growth, transforming not just how we see life, but how we live it.
This week, pause and give thanks—not just for what you have, but for who God is. You’ll be amazed at how He uses that gratitude to transform your heart and draw you closer to Him.
Thanksgiving is a time to gather around a table filled with food, family, and tradition. But beyond the turkey and pie, there’s something sacred about the act of sharing a meal. For Christians, the table has always been a place where God’s blessings are celebrated and His provision is remembered.
Throughout the Bible, the table is more than a simple piece of furniture—it’s a symbol of God’s faithfulness. In the Old Testament, we see the Israelites celebrating feasts like Passover and the Feast of Tabernacles, meals rich with meaning and reminders of God’s deliverance and provision. These table gatherings weren’t just about eating; they were acts of worship, opportunities to reflect on what God had done and to anticipate His promises yet to come.
In the New Testament, Jesus took the symbolism of the table even further. He often used meals to teach, heal, and connect with others. Whether feeding the 5,000 with loaves and fish or breaking bread with His disciples at the Last Supper, Jesus made the table a place of grace and abundance.
This is why the Thanksgiving table can be so much more than a family tradition. It’s an opportunity to recognize the abundance of blessings God has poured into our lives—not just the food on our plates, but the people around us, the memories we’ve made, and the hope we have in Jesus.
It’s also a chance to reflect on how we can extend that abundance to others. Just as God’s blessings were never meant to stop with the Israelites or with us, our tables can become places of welcome and generosity. Who might God be inviting you to welcome to your table this year? A neighbor who lives alone? A family member who feels out of place? A friend going through a difficult season?
The beauty of the Thanksgiving table is that it reminds us of a greater feast to come—the heavenly banquet described in Revelation, where every tribe, tongue, and nation will gather in the presence of God. That ultimate table will be a celebration of God’s abundant grace and the fulfillment of every one of His promises.
Until then, our earthly tables can serve as sneak peaks into that heavenly feast. When we sit down to share a meal, we participate in a rhythm that connects us to the past, present, and future work of God. We remember His provision in the wilderness, celebrate His presence in our lives today, and look forward to the day when His Kingdom will be fully realized.
So this Thanksgiving, as you set the table and fill your plates, take a moment to pause. Look at the faces gathered with you, and give thanks to the One who makes it all possible. Let your gratitude overflow into acts of kindness and hospitality, turning your table into a place of blessing for others.
Because at its heart, Thanksgiving isn’t just about what we have—it’s about the God who gives it all. And when we acknowledge Him as the source of every blessing, our tables become sacred spaces where His love is shared and His name is glorified.
Faith isn’t something you learn at church or in Sunday School; it’s something you live. Too often, Christians settle for reading, hearing, and seeing when God has called us to actually live out in our day to day lives.
Have you ever heard the statistics about what you remember? You remember 10% of what you read, 20% of what you hear, 30% of what you see, 50% of what you see and hear, but 70% of what you experience is remembered. If we want a faith that sticks—one that changes lives, including our own—we must move from passive absorption to active engagement.
Faith That Doesn’t Move Isn’t Faith
James 2:17 couldn’t be more clear. “Faith without works is dead.” Yet so many of us are stuck in the comfortable rhythms of church life: attending a service, hearing a sermon, maybe cracking open the Bible during the week. It’s good, but it’s not enough. Why? Because faith isn’t just about knowing; it’s about doing.
Think about it: Jesus didn’t sit His disciples down for weekly lectures and send them off with a pat on the back. He took them on a journey. He showed them how to heal the sick, feed the hungry, and love the outcast. Then He sent them out to do it themselves.
You can memorize every verse on love, but until you sit down with someone who’s hurting and listen, it’s just head knowledge. You can attend every Bible study on evangelism, but until you open your mouth to share the gospel with a neighbor, you haven’t truly learned it. Faith grows in the doing.
It’s no accident that we remember 70% of what we experience. God wired us this way because faith was never meant to be a spectator sport. It’s hands-on. Even Jesus was to “Follow me,” not “Listen to me.” Following requires movement.
Here’s the truth: if your faith feels stagnant, it’s because you’re not stepping into the experience of it. Reading about God’s love is one thing, but serving at a soup kitchen or mentoring a struggling teenager brings that love to life. Hearing a sermon about forgiveness is valuable, but going to someone who’s wronged you and saying, “I forgive you” burns it into your own heart the way nothing else can.
Christianity isn’t a weekly TED Talk; it’s a lifestyle. Every act of service, every step of obedience, every leap of faith engrains God’s truths deeper into your soul.
This isn’t just about retention rates—it’s about transformation. When you put your faith into action, it doesn’t just stick with you—it impacts the world around you.
Read about God’s call to feed the hungry, but then go and pack lunches for the homeless.
Hear a sermon on loving your enemies, then invite someone you’ve been avoiding out for coffee.
See a video about the power of prayer, but then get on your knees and cry out to God for someone in need.
You’ll be amazed at how much more these truths resonate when they’re tied to an experience. It’s not about “earning” your faith; it’s about letting your actions solidify what God is teaching you.
A little challenge for you this week – stop sitting in the pew and start stepping into the world. Don’t just hear the Word—do something with it. If we want our faith to stick, we’ve got to get our hands dirty.
This week, pick one area where you can shift from hearing to experiencing. Serve, give, forgive, pray, or take a step into the unknown. Whatever it is, make it tangible.
Faith that sits still fades quickly. Faith that moves grows roots. Let’s be Christians who don’t just listen to the call of Jesus but answer it with bold, undeniable action.
You remember 70% of what you experience—so start living a faith you’ll never forget.
The holiday season naturally stirs feelings of gratitude. We count our blessings around the Thanksgiving table, reflect on the year during Advent, and celebrate the greatest gift of all—Jesus—on Christmas Day. But what if our gratitude didn’t stop at words? What if it sparked something deeper?
Gratitude and generosity are like two sides of the same coin. When we truly recognize the abundance of God’s blessings in our lives, the natural response is a desire to share those blessings with others. It’s a theme woven throughout Scripture: “Freely you have received; freely give” (Matthew 10:8). God’s gifts are never meant to stop with us. Instead, they’re meant to flow through us, blessing others in the process.
Consider the story of the early church in Acts 2. These believers were so overwhelmed by God’s goodness that they shared everything they had, ensuring no one among them was in need. Their generosity was a direct outpouring of their gratitude for the new life they had found in Jesus. It wasn’t forced or begrudging—it was a joyful overflow.
This kind of generosity can feel countercultural in a season often marked by consumerism and stress. Advertisements and sales constantly urge us to focus on what we can get, not what we can give. But as followers of Jesus, we’re called to live differently. The holiday season is a perfect time to step off the treadmill of self-focus and ask, How can I use what God has given me to bless someone else?
Generosity doesn’t have to mean writing a big check or making grand gestures. Sometimes, the most impactful acts of generosity are the small, intentional ones. It could be baking cookies for a neighbor, leaving an encouraging note for a co-worker, or volunteering at a local shelter. It might look like paying for someone’s coffee in the drive-thru or giving a little extra in your church’s offering.
But generosity isn’t limited to finances or material things. It includes your time, your energy, and your relationships. Think about the single mom who needs help watching her kids or the elderly neighbor who would love a visit. Sometimes, the greatest gift you can give is to simply show up for someone who feels forgotten.
Here’s the challenge: This holiday season, find one way to be intentionally generous. Maybe it’s adopting a family in need, starting a new family tradition of volunteering, or simply looking for everyday opportunities to give. Whatever you choose, let it be something that stretches you just a little—something that turns gratitude into action.
But don’t stop there.
As you practice generosity during the holidays, ask God to help you make it a year-round habit. Generosity, like gratitude, grows with practice. Over time, it becomes less of an obligation and more of a joy-filled way of life.
Jesus is the ultimate example of generosity. He gave not out of obligation, but out of love—a love so great that He gave His very life for us. As we reflect on His gift this season, let it inspire us to be His hands and feet in the world.
Imagine how different this holiday season could feel—not hollow or stressful, but filled with purpose and joy. And imagine how different our world could look if more of us lived lives marked by gratitude and generosity. And it all starts with small, faithful steps.
Will you take the challenge? This year, let your gratitude inspire generosity. And watch how God uses it to bless others—and transform your own heart in the process.
The holiday season is supposed to be a time of joy, celebration, and togetherness. But for many, it can feel painfully hollow. The festive decorations, cheerful music, and laughter of others can highlight what’s missing in your own life—a loved one who isn’t there, a relationship that’s fractured, or a dream that remains unfulfilled. Instead of joy, there’s a deep ache that whispers, “Everyone else is happy except me.”
If that’s you, know this: you are not alone.
The Bible is full of people who faced that “hollow” seasons of life. Take David, for example. His psalms are a raw mix of lament and praise. In Psalm 42, he writes, “My tears have been my food day and night… Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me?” David knew what it felt like to live in the tension of longing for God’s joy while experiencing deep sorrow. Yet even in his pain, he declared, “Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him.”
This is the power of gratitude in the hard seasons. It doesn’t erase the pain or deny the struggle. Instead, it shifts our focus from what’s missing to the One who remains faithful. When we choose to give thanks—not for the pain, but in the midst of it—we open our hearts to God’s presence. And His presence changes everything.
You might be wondering, How can I possibly give thanks when everything feels so broken? Start small. Gratitude doesn’t have to be loud or elaborate. It can be as simple as whispering, “Thank You, God, for carrying me through today.” Or noticing the beauty of a sunrise, the warmth of a cup of coffee, or the kindness of a friend. These small acts of gratitude build a bridge between the hollow places in your heart and the fullness of God’s love.
Jesus understands the hollowness of brokenness better than anyone. He left the glory of heaven to walk this earth, experiencing rejection, loss, and suffering. He wept at Lazarus’s tomb, even though He knew He was about to raise him from the dead. He felt the weight of abandonment on the cross. Yet He gave thanks, even on the night He was betrayed, breaking bread and pouring out wine as reminders of the sacrifice He was about to make.
This holiday season, you may not feel like celebrating. That’s okay. God doesn’t ask for perfect joy or forced smiles. He simply invites you to come as you are—to bring Him your emptiness, your pain, and your questions. In return, He promises to fill you with His peace, the kind that doesn’t depend on circumstances.
Your holidays may not look the way you hoped. They may still feel hollow in some ways. But as you make space for gratitude, even in the smallest moments, you’ll find that God’s love fills the emptiness with hope. And hope is the light that guides us through the darkest seasons.
Life has a way of throwing us curveballs. Challenges pile up, situations feel hopeless, and the weight of it all can seem unbearable. It’s tempting to believe that what we’re facing right now will never change—that the pain, confusion, or frustration is here to stay. In moments like these, it’s easy to think about drastic solutions to problems that feel insurmountable. But I can promise you this: no matter how dark it feels, there is light ahead. Never make a permanent decision based on a temporary situation.
When life feels overwhelming, it’s hard to think clearly. Emotions cloud your mind and convince you that no one cares, no one is watching out for you, and no one understands. But let me assure you—someone does.
In John 10, Jesus calls Himself the Good Shepherd. He says, “I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me” (John 10:14). This isn’t just a poetic metaphor. It’s a powerful truth. A shepherd’s job isn’t easy; it involves getting messy, walking through valleys, and being present in the middle of chaos. But the Good Shepherd never abandons His sheep. He knows each one by name. He knows their struggles. He knows their fears. He knows every one of their wounds. And He leads them with care.
You are not forgotten. Even when it feels like you’re lost in the chaos of life, Jesus knows exactly where you are. He’s walking with you, even when you can’t see Him. He’s working for your good, even when you don’t feel it. He knows the way out of every valley, no matter how deep – no matter how thick.
But Jesus doesn’t stop there. He doesn’t just watch over you from some far away place of safety; He calls others to join Him in caring for you. There are people in your life—family, friends, mentors, your church family, and even strangers—who care deeply about you. Sometimes, the hardest part is letting them know what you’re going through. That vulnerability can be scary, but it’s the key to experiencing the love and support that is already around you.
Problems, no matter how large they feel, are never permanent. Seasons change. Circumstances evolve. Healing happens. God’s promises remain true: “Weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning” (Psalm 30:5). The night might be the longest night of your life, but morning is always on the horizon – always.
If you’re carrying a burden today, remember this: You are seen. You are known. You are loved. The Good Shepherd has not forgotten you, and He never will. He’s calling your name and inviting you to trust Him, even in the darkest valley. And He’s placed people around you who want to walk with you, support you, and remind you that there’s always hope.
Dear friends take heart. The mess of life is temporary, but the love of the Good Shepherd is eternal. Please – never make a permanent solution to a temporary problem.
We hear it everywhere: “Love wins.” It’s on T-shirts, social media, and bumper stickers. It’s a feel-good phrase, right? Just love each other, and everything will magically work out. But here’s the harsh reality: our love alone doesn’t win a thing.
Our love is conditional, selfish, and pretty pathetic. It gets tired. It gets offended. We say we’ll love unconditionally, but the second someone hurts us, or something doesn’t go our way, that so-called “unconditional” love suddenly has a lot of conditions. We fall in love as easily as we fall out of it, and we struggle to love people who challenge us. So, let’s cut the crap: if love depends on us to “win,” we’re doomed.
But here’s the twist that changes everything: Jesus’ love. Now, that love? That’s the love that wins. It’s not some mushy, feel-good sentiment. It’s radical, all-consuming, and completely unselfish. It’s a love that didn’t just say nice things but laid itself on the line—literally. Jesus gave up everything. He didn’t just love us when it was easy; He loved us when we nailed Him to a cross. His love didn’t give up when it got hard; His love didn’t turn away even when we turned away from Him. He didn’t stop loving when we lied. He kept on loving even in spite of our harsh words and unkind actions. Jesus’ love won in the only way that matters.
Think about it: Jesus’ love goes deeper than a smile or a kind word. Our love for a significant other is pathetic compared to this crazy, radical love. His love stared sin, death, and hell in the face—and it won. Our own efforts to love can’t even touch that. No amount of human effort or good intentions could win the fight against sin. We couldn’t love ourselves into God’s good graces. That’s why Jesus was essential. He did what we couldn’t do, no matter how much we loved.
When people say “love wins,” they’re often thinking of human love fixing things. They’re hoping that if we just love hard enough, the world’s problems will melt away. But here’s the cold, hard truth: without Jesus’ victory, our love accomplishes very little. Our love doesn’t heal hearts or change souls. It doesn’t break chains of sin or death. Jesus’ love does. He won that battle on the cross—one that our love couldn’t even enter.
So, what does that mean for us? Should we just stop trying to love others? Absolutely not. Jesus’ love calls us to love, but it also tells us to recognize our limits. Our love matters, but it’s not the foundation. It’s not the thing that holds eternity in place. That role belongs to Jesus’ love alone. We love others because He first loved us, but let’s not confuse the order here. We’re not the heroes of this story; we’re the ones who needed saving. Our love is the grateful response, not the game-changer.
So, next time you see “Love Wins,” take a moment to think about who made that possible. Let it remind you of the power, depth, and sacrifice of Jesus’ love, the only love that truly won. Without Him, our love is merely a shadow. With Him, our love has purpose.
