
Most people instinctively know the difference between ordering at a restaurant and eating at a friend’s table—yet that same distinction somehow disappears in how they approach God. Proverbs 3:9 calls believers to honor the Lord with their wealth and the first fruits of all their produce, not as a business transaction or a path to guaranteed earthly blessing, but as an act of worship that reshapes what winning actually means.

We crave freedom, but Bob Dylan was right when he sang, “You Gotta Serve Somebody.” No matter how strong that craving, we’ll find ourselves serving either righteousness or unrighteousness.

We can say things like “In God We Trust,” but what do we mean? Do we really trust?

When the old broken software finally gives way to something that works, the last thing you’d do is press every button just to break the new one on purpose. Yet that same impulse faces us in the Christian life, and Paul confronts it head-on in Romans 6:14-15: since we are not under law but under grace, shall we sin?

Pastor Tim turns to Malachi to think about what God really calls us to do and the hope we find when we follow Him in His grace.

God’s way doesn’t always look the most successful in the moment, but it is the path to true success.

When it feels dark, we need the well trod paths of God’s Word to strengthen us so we don’t lose hope.

We think, “If only I had enough money, my life would change forever,” yet even a life-altering jackpot can’t easily eliminate the old self. Romans 6:10 tells us the death Christ died, He died to sin once for all, but the life He lives, He lives to God.


In a snowstorm, the signs showing miles to safety keep you moving even when relief feels hours away. You eat, you sleep, you feel better—so you believe that’s where strength comes from. But what happens when food runs out, rest doesn’t help, and the world keeps breaking? David pleads the same in Psalm 13, cutting to the real source of life: “Look at me, answer me, oh Lord, my God, revive me, or else I will die.” When personal storms and world chaos collide, what keeps hope alive?

We long for fresh starts, yet even after coming to Christ we can feel the pull to return to the same old sins and familiar ways. Romans 6:6–9 says our old self was crucified with Christ and that death no longer rules him—so what does that new standing mean for believers still facing temptation, failure, and the daily work of living for him?

You arrive early at the restaurant and order an iced tea while waiting for a friend whose advice you desperately need. One refill comes, then another, until the condensation has left the table damp and the agreed time is long past. An hour and a half later, you leave more dejected than when you arrived. Psalm 13 asks the same question that fills that silence: How long, O Lord?

We know we’re going to die—it’s as inevitable as buttered toast landing face-down—but Romans 6:5 asks whether that death has to mean the same thing it did before Christ.

When evil seems to be prospering, the temptation can be to find a backup plan instead of God’s way. Do we need one?

A voyage to the moon can feel finished once splashdown comes and the pictures stop, yet those who flew it insist it is only the start. Romans 6 challenges us to see the same of Easter: we’re not at the end of our old debt, but the beginning of our new life in Jesus.

Easter is God’s profound statement that He not only listens, but He also saves.

We are good at recognizing what is wrong—and remarkably bad at fixing it. Isaiah 1 warns that the strong become tinder and their work a spark, exposing every human effort we trust to make life secure and lasting. What hope does Easter offer when the things we build, the solutions we devise, and even our own strength end in ash?
Greg helps us to reflect on Good Friday by turning to the Book of Isaiah.

We begin a new series in the Psalms tonight, looking at David’s lament in Psalm 12. What happens when we feel like evil has triumphed and whatever good we do is fruitless?

We love to DIY it, and those efforts can look impressive on the surface—but surface polish gives false confidence. Isaiah 1:30 warns that a life cut off from God withers like an oak without water. The question is whether we are still building kingdoms that burn, or rooting ourselves in the One who lasts.