All Things Messiah

Perhaps we never thank God for the thorn itself. But we can thank him for what he grows through it. May your thorns become the place where you discover his grace, and may they create a rainbow that leads you to him.

I like smooth sailing. And that's not a bad thing. God created us to value life and to protect ourselves. But if we cling too tightly to our security blankets, we may miss the very life God is inviting us to live.

A reflection on embracing life's uncertainties as invitations to trust God, drawing on Oswald Chambers and the iconic painting *Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog* to explore how gracious uncertainty — not anxiety — is the hallmark of a vibrant spiritual life.

These paintings remind us of an important lesson: Every season reveals something different about how God works. No season lasts forever and every season is necessary.

Yet Jesus says that not one of those sparrows—not even that fifth sparrow—falls without getting the attention of God.

My prayer is that, whatever you're facing, your chain of trust will grow stronger as you wait with hope.

Pastor Laurie reflects on Frank Wesley's stunning Indian depiction of the Prodigal Son — and how one Jesuit priest saw something unexpected: Christ returning to the Father after the cross.

You may feel abandoned. You may feel overlooked. You may wonder where God is in the middle of your struggles. But feelings are not the final verdict. The cross is.

In this famous painting, Christ stands at a neglected doorway overgrown with weeds and vines, carrying a lantern to illuminate the darkness. The door has no exterior handle, symbolizing that it must be opened from within. Christ comes to us through his Word, bringing truth, light, and the invitation to clear away what hinders our fellowship with him.

Many things of this world would like to “pull us off” our spiritual journey. Satan has darts of doubt, distraction, and deception and he is aiming them at our hearts. But be encouraged—Christ has won the battle.

May we learn to tune into God’s providence so that when he calls, we can answer; when he speaks, we will know to listen.

Jesus knows exactly who Judas is and what he will do. And still, he washes his feet. I don’t know if I could have done the same.

May the Lord give you the strength you need to summons the courage it takes to keep anxiety and despair at bay.

Pastor Laurie reflects on Rogier van der Weyden's Descent from the Cross — a masterpiece of grief, symbolism, and quiet hope. Sit with the sorrow of the Cross, and hear the greatest note of triumph underneath it all.

Isaiah 53 — a reflection on how our wounds and brokenness are often the very places where God's light breaks through.

Peter and John don’t know what they will find when they reach their destination, but they go anyway. It is good to remember that the empty tomb is not discovered by those who stand still, but by those willing to move toward the mystery, toward the possibility that God has done something new and unexpected.

This Holy Week, may we meditate on the thirst our Savior endured for us. This painting by Rubens is powerful. It doesn’t just paint the moment Jesus is taken down from the cross—he slows it down, softens it, and lets us feel the weight of it. Every hand, every fold of cloth, every beam of light invites us to consider not just what happened, but what it means to carry Christ even now.

In Ephesians, God says that we are his masterpiece. Isn’t it good to know that something worn down by life is, most certainly, still a masterpiece, like these boots?

Jesus says some things that are confusing and disturbing. However, even if our minds don’t always understand, hopefully our hearts can.

In this season of Lent, may we recognize, and repent of, our stubbornness to heed the plea of a savior who longs for us to come to him.