Rise City Church Sermon Podcast

What if the greatest moves of God aren’t just stories behind us—but moments He is inviting us into now? In John 21, Jesus meets Peter on the other side of failure with forgiveness and a renewed calling. The disciple who denied Him becomes a bold witness in Acts—and the transformation that begins in Peter spreads through the church and into the city. We long to see God change our world, but are we willing to let Him begin with us? Revival takes root as we surrender the sin we’ve grown comfortable with, build our homes around Jesus, and step out in faith to share Him with the people already in our lives. You don’t have to wait for the perfect moment to say yes to God. This is your city. These are your people. This is your moment. What if revival begins with a simple prayer: “Jesus, start with me”?

We all want abundant life—but we keep wandering through doors that promise freedom and leave us empty. In John 10, Jesus makes a breathtaking claim: the life your soul was created for is found through Him alone. He is the Door who welcomes you, the Shepherd who knows your name, and the Lamb who gave His life to save yours. When you are lost, He searches for you. When you are too weak to return, He carries you. When every other voice competes for your trust, He keeps calling you home. Jesus is closer than you think—and He is still knocking. Will you open the door?

We spend our lives chasing success, comfort, recognition, and even religious achievement, believing they will produce the life our souls crave. But in John 15, Jesus warns that knowledge, morality, and spiritual activity can look impressive while remaining disconnected from the source of life. Jesus reveals that the evidence of discipleship is fruit: inexhaustible joy and sacrificial love. Yet this fruit isn’t produced by trying harder. A branch cannot manufacture life. It can only remain connected to the vine, allowing the life of Jesus to flow through it. Stop striving to look fruitful. Abide in Jesus—and let His joy and love become the unmistakable fruit of your life.

What if Jesus isn’t waiting for you to get your life together—but simply inviting you to come back? In Mark 2, a group of friends refuses to let a crowded room keep a paralyzed man from Jesus. They tear open the roof and lower their friend into His presence. There, Jesus meets the man with forgiveness, healing, and a grace greater than anything that had kept him separated or ashamed. Many of us carry hidden places we are afraid to surrender. We wonder whether Jesus will receive us as we are, so we build walls and hold tightly to what feels safe. But His invitation is not reserved for people who have already changed. It is extended to every person willing to come near and trust Him with the process. Make room for Jesus. The grace that welcomes you back will become the grace that makes room for others.

What if Christianity isn't primarily about having the right answers—but walking with the One who is the answer? Thomas wants directions. Philip wants understanding. But Jesus offers them something greater than instructions or information: a relationship with Himself. The disciples do not need to solve every mystery about the road ahead. They need to remain close to the One who knows the way. In John 14, Jesus promises that He is preparing a place for His people and will return to bring them home. He is the Way who leads us, the Truth who anchors us, and the Life who transforms us. Following Jesus is not simply adopting a better way to live—it is learning to live every moment with Him. Jesus is not inviting you into an empty religion. He is inviting you into life with Him. The question is: are you merely learning about the Way, or are you walking with Him?

What if Jesus isn't only calling you to life—but calling you to let go of everything that keeps you from living it? In one of the most moving moments in the Gospels, Jesus weeps beside the tomb of Lazarus before demonstrating His power over death itself. He enters humanity's deepest pain, then does what no one else can do: He speaks life where death seemed permanent. John 11 reveals a Savior who is both powerful enough to conquer the grave and compassionate enough to stand beside us in our sorrow. Through His own death and resurrection, Jesus makes new life possible for everyone who believes. But He also calls us to leave our grave clothes behind and walk in the freedom He purchased for us. The voice that called Lazarus out of the tomb is still calling people by name. The question is: will we step into the life only Jesus can give?

What if the life you've been searching for isn't found by following yourself—but by following a Shepherd? In John 10, Jesus makes one of His most beloved declarations: "I am the Good Shepherd." While the religious leaders used their authority to exploit God's people, Jesus reveals Himself as the Shepherd who leads, protects, and willingly lays down His life for His sheep. He doesn't simply point the way to life—He is the source of it. The problem is that Scripture says we're all like sheep. We wander. We chase things that leave us empty. We return to the same destructive patterns over and over, convinced we know what's best for our lives. But the Good Shepherd never stops pursuing His sheep. He calls us by name, gives His life to rescue us, and invites us into the abundant life that can only be found in Him.

What if the greatest darkness in our lives isn’t around us—but within us? In John 9, Jesus encounters a man blind from birth. While the disciples look for someone to blame and the Pharisees defend their traditions, Jesus does what only He can do: He opens the man’s eyes. Yet the deeper miracle unfolds as the man gradually recognizes Jesus—not merely as a healer, but as Lord. John 8–9 reveals that humanity’s greatest problem is spiritual blindness. We don’t simply need better behavior, stronger opinions, or more religious knowledge. We need the Light of the World to help us see. At the cross, darkness appeared to overcome the Light. Three days later, Jesus walked out of the grave. Sin did not win. Death did not have the final word. Jesus still opens blind eyes—and those who see Him clearly can’t help but worship.

We’re all hungry for something—for love, purpose, significance, peace, or acceptance. We spend our lives trying to satisfy those longings with things that never seem to last. In John 6, Jesus meets a crowd searching for another miracle and reveals that their greatest need isn’t more bread—it’s Him. In the first of His great “I Am” statements, Jesus declares, “I am the Bread of Life.” He doesn’t offer another self-improvement strategy or a better way to live. He offers Himself as the only One who can satisfy our souls, reconcile us to God, and give us the life we’ve been searching for all along. Stop settling for what fills you for a moment. Come to the One who satisfies forever.

The world says people never change. Jesus says watch what My grace can do. In a culture that writes people off because of their failures, their reputation, or their past, Scripture introduces us to Saul—a man everyone feared and no one expected God to use. Yet Jesus met him on the road to Damascus and transformed the church’s greatest persecutor into one of its greatest proclaimers. Acts 9 reminds us that grace isn’t earned—it pursues. Jesus still knows our names, still rewrites our stories, and still calls ordinary people to join Him in His work of redemption. Every baptism declared the same truth: no life is too broken for the transforming power of Christ. God isn’t finished writing your story.

The world says masculinity is toxic. God says men are called. In a culture that wants men passive, distracted, and compromised, Scripture issues a different command: Be watchful. Stand firm. Act like men. Be strong. Let all that you do be done in love. This Father’s Day, we’ll look at the high calling God places on men in 1 Corinthians 16—to guard what matters, stand firm when the pressure comes, take responsibility for the people entrusted to them, and love with the sacrificial strength of Jesus. The enemy is real. The stakes are high. Your family needs you awake at your post.

Most of us spend our lives trying to hold everything together. We carry the pressure to succeed, provide, lead, and figure it all out. Yet beneath all that effort is a deeper reality: we were never created to live independently from God. From the beginning, humanity was designed to thrive in His presence, not apart from it. Tune in as we discover how Jesus restores what self-sufficiency has stolen. Through the gift of the Holy Spirit, we are invited into a life of daily dependence, deeper intimacy, and greater purpose. As we learn to pray, listen, and respond to God’s leading, we’ll find that the strongest people in God’s Kingdom aren’t the most capable—they’re the most available.

The greatest evidence that Christ is changing us is not what we know, but who we are becoming. Paul calls the church to put on the clothing of Christ: compassion for the hurting, kindness without harshness, humility that values others, gentleness that uses strength to serve, and patience that bears with imperfect people. These qualities are not optional extras—they are the visible marks of a community shaped by the gospel. As believers learn to forgive as they have been forgiven, allow Christ’s peace to settle disputes, and let God’s Word make itself at home in every area of life, the church becomes a powerful witness to the world. We become a storefront of the kingdom, displaying the beauty, goodness, and grace of Jesus to everyone who walks through our doors.

Every life leaves something behind. The question isn’t whether we’ll shape the next generation—it’s what we’ll shape them toward. In a world competing for the hearts, minds, and identity of our kids, it’s easy to focus on our own race and forget the baton in our hand. But the Kingdom of God has always advanced through generations of ordinary people who chose to pass faith forward. Jesus is still building His Church, and He invites us to join Him in raising up the next generation of disciples, leaders, and world changers. Tune in as we explore why the Christian life is a relay race, what it means to intentionally form faith in our homes and church, and how our ceiling can become their floor. Together we’ll discover how a legacy rooted in Jesus can echo far beyond our lifetime.

Once your soul tastes Heaven, Earth will never fully satisfy again. In Colossians 3, believers are called to “set your hearts on things above” because Jesus is coming again in glory, and that future reality changes how we live right now. Jesus came giving humanity a taste of the world as God intended it to be. Every miracle was Heaven leaking into Earth. Every healing was Christ declaring war against the curse. And because we belong to that coming Kingdom, Paul says sin should begin tasting bitter to us. The old self no longer fits who we are becoming. This message is about learning to put the old life to death, fixing our hearts on Jesus, and becoming people who carry the culture of Heaven into a broken world.

Most people want a version of Jesus they can reshape to fit their preferences — activist Jesus, therapist Jesus, political Jesus. But Paul refuses to let us reduce Him. In Colossians 2, he declares that “all the fullness of the Deity lives in bodily form” in Christ. Jesus is not partly God or merely God-like. He is the eternal “I AM” wrapped in flesh and blood. He slept, cried, suffered, and was tempted like us — yet He also forgave sins, calmed storms, defeated demons, and walked out of His own grave. And that truth reaches directly into your life. Paul says we were spiritually dead, unable to rescue ourselves. But Jesus became what we are so we could become alive in Him. At the cross, He took the record of our guilt and nailed it down forever. Then He disarmed the powers of darkness and reclaimed what humanity lost in Eden. This Sunday we’ll behold the wonder of the God-man: the sympathetic Savior who understands your weakness and the victorious King who breaks condemnation.

Some seasons feel like flourishing. Others feel like shaking, pressure, heat, and crushing. But throughout Scripture, olive oil was never produced without pressure—and neither are we. In this deeply encouraging message from Colossians 2, we learn what it means to be rooted in Christ, built on Him as our cornerstone, and formed through every season of life. If you’ve drifted, grown weary, or wondered whether God is still working in your story—He is not done with you yet. The same Jesus who meets us in our weakness is still building, restoring, healing, and producing fresh oil for His purposes. Your roots are not wasted. Your story is not over. And His grace is still enough today.

Pain changes people. It exposes what we believe, tests what we trust, and leaves us searching for hope that can actually hold us together. In this message from Colossians, we’ll explore how Paul endured unimaginable suffering without losing heart—and why the Gospel gives us strength to hold fast even in our darkest seasons. Jesus is not distant from suffering; He entered into it. He carried the weight of humanity’s brokenness, endured the cross, and overcame death so that one day suffering would finally cease. Until that day comes, God is still working in the middle of our pain, shaping our character, strengthening our faith, and revealing to the world the mystery of the Gospel: Christ in you, the hope of glory.

Breakthrough and battle often arrive together. As people stepped into new life in Jesus, opposition followed—but that’s not defeat, it’s confirmation the Kingdom is advancing. Colossians 1:13–14 reminds us that we’ve been rescued from darkness and brought into the Kingdom of the Son He loves—this is our identity and our victory. From that place, Paul prays we’d be filled with the knowledge of God’s will, walking in a manner worthy of the Lord—bearing fruit, growing in Him, and being strengthened with all power according to His glorious might. This is how we endure. We don’t avoid the storm—we move through it together, grounded in truth, focused on pleasing the King, and empowered by His strength to press forward.

In a world pulling us in opposite directions, how do we stay anchored? The church in Colossae faced two distortions—diluted faith (Jesus + the world) and distorted faith (Jesus + religion). One softens truth to fit culture; the other adds pressure to earn what grace already gives. Both drift from the center. So Paul doesn’t say “try harder”—he lifts their eyes to Jesus and calls them to hold fast. Because it’s not the sincerity of our faith that saves us, but the strength of the One we trust. A church that holds fast is marked by faith rooted in Jesus, love poured out toward His people, and hope anchored beyond this world. It resists compromise without losing compassion, and pursues truth without losing unity. It loves the Bride, stands with other gospel churches, and lives “Kingdom down, not culture up.” Fix your hope on what’s ahead, and it will reshape how you live now. Hold fast to Jesus—and become a people who bring heaven to earth.

We spend our lives chasing what feels secure—building bigger barns, stacking up more, trying to create a life that finally feels enough. But what if everything we’re building is pointed in the wrong direction? In this message, special guest Randy Alcorn reframes our understanding of wealth, not as something to own, but something to steward. Jesus doesn’t just challenge where we put our money—He exposes what has our heart. Because wherever our treasure goes, our heart is already following. Through the lens of eternity, we’re invited into a better way to live—not for the temporary “dot” of this life, but for the unending “line” that follows. In Christ, we don’t give out of guilt, but as a response to grace—a joyful reorientation of our lives toward what truly lasts. This message calls us to loosen our grip on what won’t last and live open-handed, trusting the One who gave everything for us, and discovering that real life—the kind Jesus offers—is found not in keeping, but in giving.

All across the world, millions are gathering to celebrate one reality: Jesus didn’t stay in the grave—He got up. And when He walked out of that tomb, He didn’t just change history… He changed your story. Because the gospel doesn’t start with your failure—it starts with a God who made you in love and came after you when you were far from Him. Paul gives us a compelling framework for the Gospel in Ephesians 2: Love, Death, Raised, Grace. Out of love, Jesus stepped into our death, carried our sin, and then walked out of the grave in victory. And now, because He lives, you can live. This is grace—fully given, freely received. And today, the invitation is simple: step into the life He’s already secured for you. Because the grave is empty— and that means new life is possible.

What if the darkest parts of your story aren’t random—but already accounted for? Between the Last Supper and the cross, Jesus walks through betrayal, anxiety, abuse, rejection, and injustice—and none of it is accidental. Every step, every encounter, is a preview of what He is about to carry. Because what He faces along the way reveals what He’s going to pay for. Your sin, yes—but also your sorrow. Your wounds. Your anxiety. Your story is already in the pages, and Jesus is already moving toward it. On Good Friday, we don’t just remember what Jesus did—we recognize what He picked up. The cross is where He takes on everything we’ve done and everything that’s been done to us. And still, He says, “It is finished.” This is an invitation to bring your whole story into His—to lay it down, to let Him carry it, and to see with fresh eyes that the darkness is not the end. Because even here, there’s a glimmer of hope… Sunday is coming.

Crowds can make it easy to assume the work is already being done. Someone else will invite. Someone else will reach out. Someone else will carry the burden. But in Mark 2, four friends refuse to leave their hurting friend outside the house where Jesus is teaching. When they cannot get through the door, they go through the roof. Their faith does not stop at good intentions—it moves, lifts, tears, and makes a way. This week, as we set the table for Easter, we are reminded that people are still searching for light in a dark world, and Jesus is still the One who changes everything. Join us as we discover our responsibility and privilege in bringing people to Him—because when someone gets to the feet of Jesus, forgiveness, healing, and new life are never far behind.

What if the reason you feel stuck financially isn’t because you don’t make enough—but because no one ever taught you how to think about money? There's a tension most people live with: income goes up, but so does stress.  We’ve been sold the lie that a higher standard of living leads to a better life, yet many are discovering the opposite—more income, more pressure, more anxiety.  If money is a magnifier, then it’s not fixing anything—it’s revealing everything. And until that changes, nothing changes. But what if there’s a different way to live? God's word sermon lays out a clear framework for financial peace—not through getting more, but through creating margin.  With practical wisdom on giving, investing, debt, and long-term thinking, you’ll see how small, faithful decisions today can reshape your future for decades to come. Because this isn’t just about money—it’s about freedom, legacy, and learning to steward what God has entrusted to you in a way that leads to His Glory and our joy.

There is a quiet battle happening in every heart. Jesus described it clearly: no one can serve two masters. Something will always sit on the throne of our lives—our security, our savings, our comfort, or our King. The question every disciple must answer is simple but searching: who truly reigns in our hearts? Jesus teaches that our lives are not built around ownership but stewardship—faithfully managing what belongs to God. When we recognize that everything we have is from Him and for Him, generosity becomes more than a financial decision; it becomes a declaration of trust. Join us as we discover how honoring God with what He has entrusted to us moves us from holding tightly to living open-handed—and into the life of overflow God desires for His people.

Many of us live with a quiet fear: What if I don’t have enough? Enough money. Enough strength. Enough time. Enough faith. In 2 Kings 4, a desperate widow feels that same fear when creditors come to take her sons as payment for a debt she cannot pay. But what she sees as “nothing but a small jar of oil” becomes the starting point of God’s miraculous provision. God often works through what feels small, ordinary, and insufficient—because His power is revealed through surrendered lives. The God we serve is not a God of scarcity but a God of overflow. Join us as we explore how God fills what we place in His hands—and how even the smallest offering can become the beginning of something extraordinary.

Twelve years in, it would be easy to start believing our own press. We’re growing. We’re hungry. We’re bringing friends. There’s momentum, influence, reach. But Paul confronts that instinct in 1 Corinthians: “Not many of you were wise… influential… of noble birth.” God chose the foolish. God chose the weak. God chose the lowly—so that no one may boast before Him.The reason anything is happening in this church is not because we are great—it’s because God is good. Not because we hustle—it’s because He moves first. This city does not need our abilities and strategies—it needs a crucified and risen Savior lifted high. So we resolve to know nothing except Jesus Christ and Him crucified. We are a people formed by grace, fueled by the Spirit, and sent for the glory of the King. We boast in the Lord—and together we shine His name over our city. We boast in Jesus.

We all know what’s wrong with the world. Or at least we think we do. It’s the system. The culture. The other side. But Scripture turns the mirror toward us. The fracture in our relationships doesn’t begin “out there” — it begins in the old self, the part of us that protects pride, feeds resentment, and quietly keeps score. Until Jesus deals with the corruption in our own hearts, healing stays out of reach. The cross doesn’t just diagnose evil; it defeats it. And forgiveness is how resurrection power starts repairing what sin has broken. In Colossians 3:5–14, Paul calls us to put off the old self and put on the new — to clothe ourselves with compassion, humility, patience, and above all, love. “Forgive as the Lord forgave you.” Because we are already chosen and dearly loved, we can release the wound and refuse to let it define our future. Christ’s forgiveness is stronger than our offense. And when we forgive, healing becomes possible — in our hearts, in our homes, and in our church.

We live in a world that celebrates visibility, scale, and success—yet Jesus tells a story in Matthew 25 that reframes what actually matters. The Master doesn’t commend influence or outcomes; He says, “Well done, good and faithful servant.” Each servant receives a different entrustment, but the call is the same: steward what you’ve been given. Faithfulness means resisting comparison, surrendering entitlement at the cross, and trusting that what God places in your hands today is neither random nor small. Faithfulness also unfolds over time. There are seasons of waiting that shape our trust, moments when doubt whispers and fear urges us to play it safe. But the gospel anchors us: the same Christ who entrusted you with your assignment has proven His character at the cross. So we refuse to bury what He’s given. We offer it back—our time, gifts, influence, resources—and trust Him to multiply it for His purposes. And in the end, the reward is not status but relationship: sharing in the joy of the Master, right here and ultimately forever.

Most people assume purpose is something you must invent or achieve, but Scripture tells a different story. God didn’t just save you from something—He saved you for something. In a world contested by good and evil, every life is shaping the future of something larger than itself. Grace pulls us out of death, but it also places us into God’s unfolding plan to heal what’s broken. Ephesians declares that we are God’s workmanship—His work of art—formed by grace and shaped through surrender. Like a master sculptor, God chips away through trials, obedience, and service, revealing the image of Christ within us. Good works don’t earn heaven; they bring heaven to earth. As we commit to gathering regularly, joining the team, and stewarding what we’ve been given, we begin walking in the purpose God prepared long before we ever knew His name.

We long to be known—but we fear what might happen if we actually are. Yet from the earliest days of the church, God’s people devoted themselves to shared life: shared meals, shared prayers, shared needs. Even Paul—the tireless missionary—needed friends, family, and community to remain faithful. True community is where masks come off and grace moves in. It’s where someone notices when you’re not okay, celebrates your wins, and walks with you through your struggles. Jesus created space to be fully known among His closest followers—and then carried our isolation to the cross so we could belong fully to God and His people. When we step into gospel-centered community, we don’t just find connection—we find formation, healing, and hope.

Everyone needs their people. Scripture is filled with them—Adam had his partner, David his mighty men, Esther her mentor, Paul his companions, and even Jesus surrounded Himself with friends when facing the cross. Isolation makes us vulnerable, but community makes us resilient. Like a herd protecting its own, the church becomes the place where faith is guarded, sharpened, and sustained. The enemy isolates; Jesus gathers. Jesus steps into this fractured world and forms a people. He calls disciples into shared life, sends them two by two, and builds His church as a gathered body. Faith flourishes in community because community reflects the very nature of God Himself. Jesus calls us to something better: a church where burdens are shared, hope is reinforced, and discipleship is lived side-by-side.

Most of us want deep change, but we want it fast. We long for peace without patience, love without pruning, and freedom without formation. Yet Jesus tells us the truth: lasting transformation only happens through abiding. Just as branches don’t produce fruit by effort, we cannot become who God intends apart from a life rooted in Christ. We all abide somewhere—and whatever we abide in is forming us. Jesus reveals Himself as the true Vine, the One who supplies life, love, and growth. As we remain in Him, the Spirit reshapes our desires, heals our wounds, and forms us into people of love, joy, and self-control. This is not an overnight miracle, but a long obedience in the same direction. The invitation is hopeful and freeing: make your home in the love of Jesus, and trust that over time, He will shape your life into something beautiful and strong.

Most of us assume spiritual growth begins with clarity—having answers, confidence, or conviction. But in John 1, discipleship begins somewhere far more honest: curiosity. Before belief, before commitment, Jesus invites two searching men with simple words—“Come and see.” We all need an encounter with Jesus for ourselves. You can’t follow a Jesus you’ve never met. Discipleship deepens as encounter becomes abiding—when time with Jesus turns from a moment into a rhythm. As we open Scripture, we’re not just reading ancient words—we’re meeting the living Christ. Discipleship flourishes when time with Jesus becomes a daily rhythm, not a distant memory. The invitation still stands: meet Him, remain with Him, and allow His life to reshape yours from the inside out.

We are always being formed—by what we give our attention to, who we listen to, and the rhythms that shape our days. Every habit is pointing us somewhere. The question isn’t whether formation is happening, but who is shaping us. Jesus’ invitation, “Come, follow me,” cuts through distracted, half-present faith and calls us into an intentional life of apprenticeship with Him. This week, we’re launching our Discipleship Pathway—a clear way to follow Jesus together. At the center is Jesus Himself, not just what He teaches, but how He forms people over time. As we learn to be with Him, become like Him, and join Him in His Kingdom work, we discover a faith that reshapes every part of life. The invitation is still open to whoever is willing to take their next step on the way of Jesus.

Jesus often shows up where we least expect Him—in overlooked places, through ordinary people, during hidden seasons. In Luke 1, God begins the greatest rescue story not in a palace but in Nazareth, not with prestige but with humility. Mary isn’t chosen because of her résumé but because of grace. Jesus enters the world quietly, but with eternal purpose, showing us that God often does His greatest work in the places we’re tempted to overlook. Scripture reveals Jesus as the promised King, the Savior whose very name means “God saves,” and the One the Holy Spirit is always pointing us toward. We’ll see how faith grows not through proximity or effort, but through revelation—and how hidden seasons often prepare us for holy moments. Stop searching elsewhere and recognize the One who has been searching for us all along. Don’t miss Jesus—the Savior who came to rescue, reign, and restore.

Most of us don’t realize the weight of what we’re carrying. Like David, we’re often living inside a story bigger than we can see—faithfully holding responsibilities, wounds, and callings without knowing how God might use them. Long before the crown, David learned dependence as a shepherd, repentance as a worshiper, and courage as an overlooked fighter. His life reveals that God’s promise doesn’t move through perfection or control, but through hearts that return to Him and trust Him fully. David’s story ultimately points beyond himself to Jesus—the greater Shepherd who carries the wounded, the better King who restores broken hearts, and the true Victor who fights the battle we could never win. Tune in as we discover what David carried, what Jesus has already accomplished, and how surrendering what’s in our hands places us inside God’s unfolding story of redemption and hope.

Most of us assume spiritual growth happens in mountaintop moments—when God shows up loudly and life finally makes sense. But what if real transformation happens in the long, ordinary stretches in between? Jacob’s story tells the truth we often miss: God doesn’t wait for us to get it together. He works through messy families, immature prayers, unresolved wounds, and years that feel painfully unremarkable. In Genesis 32, we find Jacob no longer bargaining with God, but clinging to Him—humble, grateful, and desperate for grace. Tune in as special guest Rick McKinley traces Jacob’s journey from deceiver to dependent, from running to wrestling, and discover how God uses ordinary faithfulness to form resilient, mature trust. Hope is growing, even when you can’t yet see it.

We all have places in our lives that feel dry, stuck, or long gone—marriages running on fumes, faith that’s cooled off, habits we can’t break, or a heart that feels more numb than alive. Most of us try harder, push more, or attempt to “fix” ourselves, but Ezekiel shows us something deeper: the problem isn’t that we’re weak—it’s that we’re spiritually dead without God’s Spirit. And dead things don’t need advice; they need resurrection. Tune in as we walk into the valley with Ezekiel and discover how God uses His Word and His Spirit to rebuild what’s broken, breathe life where hope has collapsed, and raise us into the people He created us to be. If you’ve ever wondered whether the dry places in your story can live again, this is your invitation to find out.

We all know what it’s like to chase something we think will finally make us whole—success, affirmation, control—only to find the ache still there. Hannah lived in that gap: honored by her husband yet carrying a pain no amount of love or status could fix. Her story names what we often feel but rarely say out loud: nothing in this world can satisfy the deepest desires of the heart. In her anguish, she turns to the only One who can—crying out to the Lord who sees, hears, and remembers her. Tune in as we follow her journey from sorrow to surrender and watch God turn her offering into Samuel—a prophet, priest, judge, and king-maker shaped for God’s purposes (1 Samuel 1; 1 Samuel 16). This week calls us to bring our longings honestly to God, trust His timing, and dedicate the next generation with open hands, believing He can do more with their lives than we ever could.

We’re living in a moment where compassion is thinning and outrage is thickening, and it’s easy—even for believers—to run from the very people God is calling us to love. Jonah did exactly that. Sent to carry God’s mercy to a violent and hated city, he fled in the opposite direction. But God pursued him through a storm, a sea, and a fish—not to punish him, but to reclaim him. Jonah’s plunge into the deep becomes a prophetic preview of Jesus: Jonah the reluctant prophet swallowed by death, Jesus the relentless Savior who enters the grave willingly and rises in victory.  The story of Jonah shows a God who runs toward rebels, loves the undeserving, and calls His people to carry that same grace into a broken world. Tune in as we discover how God pursues us in our reluctance and invites us to join Jesus—the greater Jonah—in His mission of mercy.

We’re living in a cultural drought—shrinking belief, collapsing moral imagination, rising false gods—and it feels like the heavens have been shut. Israel knew this same barrenness in the days of Elijah. After years of idolatry, immorality, and spiritual compromise, God withheld the rain to expose the emptiness of their gods and awaken hunger in their souls. Our moment feels eerily similar. Spiritual drought covers our land, yet signs of a fresh cloud are rising on the horizon. God is calling His people out of hiding, exposing the counterfeit gods of our age, and rebuilding worship in His church. Elijah reminds us that revival begins not with culture shifting, but with God’s people returning. Tune in as we look at how God restores His altar, sends His rain, and invites us into the next great move of His Spirit.

We live in a world that prizes performance, pedigree, and power—yet deep down, most of us still wrestle with feeling unseen or unworthy. The story of Mephibosheth flips all of that upside down. David, now king, seeks out the last living son of his former enemy—not to punish him, but to show him kindness. In a single moment, a crippled exile from “Lo Debar” (“no place”) is carried into the palace, seated at the royal table, and treated like a son. This is what the kindness of King Jesus looks like. He searches for the broken, the forgotten, the ones hiding in the wilderness of shame, and He carries us home to His table. The gospel isn’t about climbing your way to God—it’s about being found, lifted, and loved by Him. Join us as guest preacher Joshua Ryan Butler explores how the King’s kindness restores our destiny, overcomes our fear and pride, and teaches us to extend that same kindness to others.

When life feels like a battle you can’t win, it’s easy to believe that trying harder will finally bring peace. But what if the breakthrough you need doesn’t come from more control, but from surrender? King Jehoshaphat faced an army he couldn’t defeat, yet instead of drawing a sword, he lifted a song. As Judah began to worship, God began to work. In a world that says, “You got this,” Scripture declares, “The battle is not yours, but God’s.” Tune in for this victory Sunday as we see how praise pushes back fear, how worship invites God’s power into impossible places, and how the same God who fought for Judah gives us ultimate victory in Jesus.

Paul ends his letter to the Thessalonians with a rapid-fire list of commands—a vision for what life in the church should look like while we wait for Jesus to return. It’s like he’s saying, “Don’t just sit back and count the days—live like the Kingdom is already here.” In these final verses, Paul paints a picture of a church that loves well, serves faithfully, rejoices often, listens to the Spirit, grows in holiness, and stays connected through grace. This is what a healthy, hope-filled church looks like. Tune in as we explore Six Marks of a Healthy Church Community—and discover how faith in the future changes how we live right now.

Most people assume spiritual growth just happens over time. But the truth is, everyone is being spiritually formed by something — our families, habits, culture, and desires are shaping who we’re becoming. In Ephesians 4, Paul draws a bold line between the “old self,” shaped by sin and self-reliance, and the “new self,” shaped by the Spirit. You can’t keep wearing your old clothes and expect a new life to fit. Transformation doesn’t begin with trying harder; it begins with responding to the invitations of the Holy Spirit, who makes us new from the inside out. Tune in as guest preacher Matt Berg unpacks what it means to “put on the new self,” created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness (Ephesians 4:24). Discover how daily practices like confession, forgiveness, and community open us to the Spirit’s renewing work — not just to manage sin, but to reflect Christ’s compassion, truth, and love for the sake of others.

We live in a world that lulls us to sleep—spiritually numb, distracted, desensitized. But Paul raises a warning flag in 1 Thessalonians 5: The Day of the Lord is coming like a thief in the night. It will not be announced. It will not be delayed. And most won’t be ready. This day—the final, climactic return of Christ—will be a day of justice, when God deals decisively with sin, rebellion, and evil. But for those in Christ, judgment day has already happened—at the cross. That’s why Paul urges us: wake up and live like people of the day, not of the darkness. The return of Jesus calls us to sober living, sacrificial love, unwavering faith, and unshakable hope. We don’t armor up with anger or fear—we put on the breastplate of faith and love, and the helmet of hope. We serve, invite, give, and share with urgency because the Day of Salvation is coming. Tune in as we explore how to live awake, alert, and anchored in the coming Kingdom of God.

Something in us knows this world isn’t the end. We feel it at funerals, in the chaos of the headlines, and in the quiet moments when we wonder, is there more than this? The early believers in Thessalonica wrestled with the same questions—watching their friends die for their faith, wondering what came next. Paul writes to them—and to us—to say: there is hope beyond the grave. Because Jesus died and rose again, death doesn’t get the final word. Our story ends not in loss, but in life—resurrection life. And the best part? It’s closer than you think. Scripture says a day is coming when the sky will split open, the trumpet will sound, and the King will return. Evil will be crushed, creation restored, and those who belong to Christ will rise to meet Him. That reality changes how we live now. It means we can face grief with hope, urgency with purpose, and a broken world with unshakable confidence. Tune in as we look at the signs, the promises, and the glorious return of Jesus—and discover why The End isn’t something to fear, but something to long for.

There’s something stirring in our time. People are restless, searching, and waking up with a hunger they can’t quite name. All around us we see signs of spiritual awakening—new faces walking through church doors, lives asking deeper questions, hearts opening to God. These are seeds of revival being planted. The question is: will we recognize the moment and nurture what God is doing in us, our families, and our church? In 1 Thessalonians 4,  Paul urges us to reject the patterns of the world and walk in God’s good design—especially in the area of sexual purity. Sex was created as a gift to connect and create within the covenant of marriage, but outside that covenant, it divides and destabilizes. Paul is clear: holiness is not about shame or legalism, but about freedom—choosing to honor God with our bodies, our relationships, and our everyday choices. Tune in as we explore how revival begins not with noise and spectacle, but with quiet obedience in our homes, purity in our hearts, and a life that reflects the beauty of Jesus. When we live to please God “more and more,” we not only experience His power but also shine as a stark and hopeful contrast in a world desperate for healing