Send us a text

What if the most enduring thing about your life can’t be posted, purchased, or preserved—only received? We turn to 1 Peter 1:22–25 and walk through a bracing, hope-filled vision: the grass withers, the flowers fall, and yet the word of the Lord endures forever. That living word isn’t just ink on a page; it’s Jesus—the Logos—who remakes imperfect people and forms them into a family that lasts. Along the way, we sit with Peter’s contradictions and find our own: brave and afraid, faithful and messy. His story becomes permission to come as we are and an invitation to grow beyond what we’ve settled for.

We name the noise that wears us down and pray for wisdom to turn off the endless feed so we can tend the wounds within reach. Then we ask harder questions about where we’re investing our souls: careers, legacies, and platforms bloom and burn like desert flowers, but the kingdom outlasts every empire. New birth reframes loss and failure; being born again of imperishable seed means our hope no longer rises and falls with our performance or the news cycle. That freedom shows up in small, stubborn practices—quick repentance, honest apologies, showing up on time, choosing reconciliation over clout.

Finally, we get practical about love. If we will be together forever, unity isn’t optional—it’s evidence. Sincere love looks like prayer before gossip, courage in correction, and generosity across political and cultural lines. Only God’s word is imperishable; our feeds are not. So we commit to a better way: loving people who don’t think like us, treating church as a people rather than a place, and building where moth and rust can’t win. Subscribe, share this with a friend who needs durable hope, and leave a review telling us one habit you’ll change this week to love your church family better.

Support the show