“I need nothing.” The words hang in the air like they shouldn’t belong to me, but they do. They weren’t always mine, though. There was a time when the word need felt like an open door to panic, a constant grasping for something—validation, security, meaning—that I didn’t believe I had. Back then, every want disguised itself as a need, and I let it drive me, like a machine powered by fear of not being enough. Now, that’s all changed.

What I have today, I don’t need. It’s not that I don’t appreciate it or value it; I do. But I’ve come to realize that my worth, my identity, and my groundedness aren’t tied to anything outside myself. I need nothing because everything I truly need already exists within me.

“It’s OK to want something, but you can’t need it.” Those words land heavier than they look on the surface. They force you to stop and question: What do I need? Not just in a practical sense, but at the deepest level—what do I truly, unshakably, need?

What you need is always tied to who you are at any given time. If it’s negotiable, it’s not a need—it’s a want. Wants can be fun, exciting, or even deeply fulfilling, but they can’t define you. And if they’re mistaken for needs, they have the power to unground you, leaving your identity tethered to something temporary and fragile.

To live authentically, we must discover, align, refine, and amplify our truest self—the part of us that isn’t negotiable, no matter what life throws our way. Everything else? It might be nice to have, but it’s not us.

The Illusion of Need

For years, my mindset was a revolving door of wants parading as needs. I’d tell myself, “If I can just get that one thing, I’ll feel settled.” But the thing would come, and the feeling wouldn’t. The cycle repeated until I finally stopped to ask: What am I really chasing?

It turns out, most of what I thought I needed wasn’t tied to survival or thriving—it was tied to proving something. Proving I was lovable. Proving I was good enough. Proving I belonged. These weren’t needs; they were echoes of fears dressed up as necessities.

When I started peeling back those layers, I found something startling. Beneath every imagined need, there was a core truth waiting to be uncovered. I didn’t need anything external to validate me because my identity wasn’t out there; it was within. Who I am doesn’t depend on what I have. It never did.

For most of my life, I blurred the lines between wants and needs. I wanted success and convinced myself I needed it to prove I was enough. I wanted acceptance and told myself I needed it to feel whole. Those wants disguised themselves so convincingly as needs that I never thought to question them.

But the truth is, those things were negotiable. If I lost them, I wouldn’t cease to exist. Sure, it would’ve hurt, but my core—who I truly am—would still be intact. When I started peeling back the layers of my identity, I found something startling: most of what I thought I needed had nothing to do with me. It was all noise.

Discovering your core means asking hard questions: If I let go of this, am I still myself? If I never get this, does it change who I am? The things that pass this test are tied to your identity—your unshakable values and truths. Everything else is just extra.

Aligning With Your True Needs

Once I realized what my real needs were—love, integrity, freedom, and compassion—everything started to change. Those needs weren’t things I had to chase; they were things I already was. They didn’t depend on external circumstances or other people. They were constants, guiding me toward decisions that felt right, even when they were hard.

Aligning with your core isn’t about denying your wants. It’s about making sure your wants don’t run the show. You can want something and still hold it loosely. You can say, “I’d really like this,” without letting it define your peace, your worth, or your identity.

When you’re aligned, you stop negotiating with yourself.

Ideas are a dime a dozen; they're everywhere, all the time, all at once and it's very hard to tell we're even being influenced by them. I've engaged in some extremely diverse think tanks only to find the majority of of people just want to be heard.

Everyone seems to be an expert, and yet, most of us are not able to complete daily tasks, much less lead others to the promised land. So, why do so many people claim to be gurus or masters of so many things? One of the greatest buzz words of today is "authenticity". I prefer to use the term, "REAL" or "PURE" regarding one's self. My personal belief is that a type of Renaissance birthed from the pandemic of 2020, yet, it didn't birth as much creative expression as it did introspection. The prior is on the brink, but the latter is way to heavy in the noise of ideas.

So now the world is full of people offering a pathway to a new life, a path to freedom, a path to discovery. My own frameworks are entitled with such lingo. So, if everyone is offering the 'way' to success, who's in need of it? How do we know who to listen to? How do we measure the truth of the claims? It's hard. And often too easy to fall into a ditch with slick clay sides preventing us from getting out, so we just walk the same muck to the next guy, thinking "he" may have "the" answer we're looking for. The real solution begins with knowing how we are influenced and then we may be able to make better decisions on who we follow.

The way we engage with ideas profoundly influences our beliefs, decisions, and the directions we choose in life. Every thought we entertain carries the potential to shape who we are and how we see the world. Many of us are quick to accept concepts simply because they reach us first. Familiarity brings comfort, creating a natural resistance to alternative viewpoints. These differing perspectives are not necessarily flawed, but they challenge what we have already invested time and energy into believing. Defending the initial idea becomes less about its truth and more about preserving our attachment to it.

This phenomenon often arises from the anchoring fallacy, a cognitive bias where the first information encountered becomes the foundation for all future judgments. When we build our understanding on an initial belief, we rarely consider that it might be incomplete, limited, or even incorrect. Ideas and beliefs adopted early in the process tend to solidify, not because they are infallible, but because they feel personal. Questioning them threatens the foundation we have constructed, and so we hold on. The more energy we pour into validating these beliefs, the harder it becomes to entertain opposing perspectives. Protecting these ideas becomes a reflex, even when better alternatives exist.

A similar dynamic shapes how we choose the voices we follow. When we find someone whose ideas resonate, there is a tendency to absorb their words without much scrutiny. We consume their opinions as if they are universal truths, leaving no space for critical reflection. The alignment we feel with their perspective often blinds us to the need for evaluation. Over time, we mistake the satisfaction of agreement for true understanding. The more we immerse ourselves in their worldview, the more it feels like the only reasonable one, and anything outside it begins to feel irrelevant or even wrong.

This pattern becomes especially dangerous when applied to thought leaders who present themselves as authorities in personal transformation, freedom, or success. Their language is often polished, their arguments compelling, their presence magnetic. They create the illusion of expertise, offering answers to questions we may not have even known to ask. Yet, we rarely stop to consider, “How did they come to know these things?” The ability to articulate ideas effectively is not the same as living through the challenges those ideas address. Without evidence of personal experience,

When a Man is Wanted, Loved, Touched, and Known

I’ve lived through the seasons of what it feels like to be wanted and the emptiness of what it feels like when you’re not. There’s a shift that happens in a man when his wife wants him, not just as a partner in life, not just as a provider, but as a man. When she sees you, desires you, and chooses you, something changes. You feel it in your chest, in your posture, in the way you walk out the door in the morning. It’s as if the world stops demanding proof of your worth because the most important person in your life has already declared it.

When she loves you, not just the safe, polite love of commitment, but the bold, raw love of truly knowing you, it settles something inside. It whispers to the insecure parts of you that you can stop running. Her love tells you, You’re enough right here, just as you are. It’s not a transaction or a reward for what you’ve done; it’s a mirror reflecting back the value you sometimes can’t see in yourself.

Then there’s her touch. You can go your whole life chasing the feeling her touch gives you. A simple hand on your shoulder, a kiss that lingers, or even her fingers brushing against yours while passing by—it’s enough to remind you that you’re connected, that you matter, that you’re not alone in the world. It’s grounding. It’s primal.

And when she sleeps with you, it’s not just physical. It’s not just sex. It’s a declaration that you’re desired, body and soul. It’s vulnerability meeting vulnerability, a space where nothing else matters. It tells you, I see all of you, and I choose you. It affirms everything inside you that wants to feel like a man, not just in the physical sense, but in the deep, emotional, and spiritual sense of being desired and accepted.

The Identity Shift

There’s no denying that this kind of connection changes a man. When you feel wanted, loved, touched, and known, it builds something within you. It’s like filling a reservoir that’s been running dry for years. You walk taller, speak with more confidence, and face life’s challenges with a new kind of steadiness. Her love doesn’t just comfort you; it energizes you.

But as powerful as this transformation is, it also carries a quiet danger. When her love becomes the source of your identity rather than something that affirms it, you’re building your foundation on shifting sand. This love, as beautiful as it is, isn’t static. It ebbs and flows with the seasons of life—times of stress, distance, or even her own personal struggles. And if you’re relying on it to tell you who you are, those moments can leave you unsteady, unsure of yourself, and searching for something to anchor you.

I’ve been there. I’ve tied my sense of worth to whether or not she loved me the way I wanted her to. I’ve felt the panic when her attention wavered, the insecurity when her stress pulled her away. I realized then that as much as I needed her love, I needed something more. I needed to know who I was without it.

Discovering the Core

Discovering who you are beyond the love of your wife is not about rejecting her love; it’s about ensuring that your identity is unshakable. It’s about asking yourself the questions we so often avoid. Who am I when no one is looking? Who am I if I strip away my roles, my successes, my failures?

This process isn’t easy. For me, it meant confronting the layers of identity I’d built over time—the provider, the protector, the fixer. I had to ask myself if those roles defined me or if they were just things I’d learned to do. I had to sit with the uncomfortable truth that much of what I thought I needed wasn’t tied to my core.

When I began peeling back those layers, I found something deeper. I found the values that weren’t negotiable, love, integrity, compassion, freedom. These weren’t things I had to earn or prove; they were simply part of who I was.

Aligning With My Core

Once I uncovered those values,

Fear as Fuel: A Journey into Adventure and Growth (A Reflection on an Old Discovery)

Fear is universal.

It touches every part of our lives, shaping the choices we make and the paths we take.

For many, fear feels like a wall; stopping progress, stalling dreams, and creating hesitation. But what if fear isn’t the enemy? What if it’s the guide we’ve been waiting for, pointing us toward the things that matter most?

For much of my life, I believed fear was something to overcome, something to fight or push aside. Now, I see fear differently. It’s not a barrier, it’s a guide. It calls us into the unknown, urging us to grow and become. Fear and thrill, once opposites in my mind, now feel like the same force. Both carry the weight of anticipation. Both demand courage. Both offer the promise of strength, beauty, and adventure on the other side of discomfort.

This change didn’t happen by accident. It came through a process of stepping into fear rather than avoiding it, of letting it shape me rather than paralyze me. Fear doesn’t shrink my world anymore; it expands it. It’s the spark that pushes me to discover, the tension that births growth. And through this, I’ve uncovered simple yet powerful ways to transform fear from a roadblock into fuel for the journey ahead.

1. Forge Clarity, Conquer ResistanceMaster the art of identifying and reframing internal blocks to gain unstoppable clarity.

The first step in turning fear into fuel was learning to recognize and name it. I had to ask myself tough questions: “What am I avoiding? Why does this feel so hard?” Often, the fear wasn’t about the moment itself—it was tied to imagined outcomes or old stories I’d been carrying. Fear doesn’t show up randomly. It’s there to point us toward something worth facing.

I began to see fear not as an immovable wall, but as a signpost. When I asked myself, “What proof do I have that this fear is real?” I often found none. It was just noise; loud and persistent, but hollow. By reframing it, I could tell myself, “This isn’t danger; it’s opportunity. This isn’t a stop; it’s a doorway.” Naming the fear gave me clarity. Reframing it gave me strength.

2. Decide. Do. Dominate.Transform intention into action with clear steps and follow-through.

Fear thrives in hesitation.

I spent too much time stuck in my head, overthinking and running endless scenarios.

This overanalysis became a hiding place where fear could grow unchecked. Change came when I stopped wrestling with possibilities and made simple, direct decisions.

I focused on clear steps: “I will do this today.” “I will take this action now.” Instead of vague plans, I committed to specifics. Action doesn’t leave room for fear to linger. It builds momentum, and with that momentum, fear shrinks.

3. Power Over PauseOverride hesitation and act boldly when resistance arises.

Even after deciding to act, hesitation would creep in. Doubts whispered that I wasn’t ready or the timing wasn’t right. I learned to override those thoughts by creating triggers for action, small but powerful signals that reminded me, “The time is now.” A deep breath, a word spoken aloud, or even snapping my fingers became the push I needed.

I discovered that readiness comes after action, not before. Every time I stepped forward despite hesitation, I strengthened my ability to trust myself. Fear no longer dictated my steps. Boldness did.

4. Harness Discomfort, Fuel GrowthReframe challenges as tools for transformation and move forward with resilience.

Fear and discomfort often go hand in hand. I used to think discomfort meant I was doing something wrong, but now I see it as a sign of growth. Growth doesn’t happen in the easy, familiar spaces, it lives on the other side of challenge.

When discomfort came, I learned to lean in. I reminded myself, “This is hard because it matters.” Controlled breathing helped me stay centered, but more than that, I accepted that discomfort was part of the proc...

[Video Commentary] [part 2 - the garden]

Eve, the first woman of the Bible, has been the subject of countless interpretations, debates, and discussions throughout the history of Christian thought. Her story is of profound significance, shaping our understanding of the human condition and our views on gender, sin, and redemption. From the earliest patristic writings to contemporary feminist theology, Eve’s narrative has been woven into the fabric of theological discourse, often reflecting each era's cultural and doctrinal concerns.

As I embark on this exploration of Eve’s story, I find myself deeply connected to the layers of meaning that have been attributed to her over the centuries. My journey with Eve is not an academic exercise but a personal reflection on how her story intersects with the broader narrative of redemption and restoration. Through this series of essays, I aim to reclaim Eve—not as the archetype of sin and downfall but as a complex, multifaceted figure who plays a crucial role in unfolding God’s redemptive plan.

In this introductory essay, I will lightly touch on the key themes that will be explored in greater depth throughout this series. Each section will reflect on the various interpretations of Eve, from the harsh critiques of the early church fathers to the empowering readings offered by feminist theologians. My hope is that through this journey, we will arrive at a more nuanced and holistic understanding of Eve—one that honors her significance in the biblical narrative and challenges the traditional interpretations that have often marginalized women.

The Patristic Legacy: Eve as a Theological Touchstone

The early church fathers were instrumental in shaping Christian theology, and their interpretations of Eve have left an indelible mark on the church’s understanding of gender and sin. Figures like Tertullian, Augustine, John Chrysostom, Ambrose of Milan, and Irenaeus of Lyons each offered their readings of Eve, often reflecting their time's cultural and doctrinal concerns.

Tertullian’s harsh critique of women, rooted in his interpretation of Eve’s role in the fall, set the stage for centuries of misogynistic thought within the church. His infamous statement, “You are the devil’s gateway,” has been echoed throughout history, reinforcing a view of women as morally weaker and more susceptible to sin. Yet, as I reflect on Tertullian’s words, I cannot help but question the fairness of this interpretation. Eve’s story is far more complex than a simple tale of disobedience, and to reduce her role to that of a temptress is to overlook the broader theological implications of her narrative.

Augustine’s doctrine of original sin, which implicates humanity in the fall, offers a more balanced view, yet it also carries the weight of a patriarchal worldview. While Augustine acknowledges that both Adam and Eve share responsibility for the fall, his writings have often been used to justify the subordination of women. However, Augustine’s broader theological framework also allows for the possibility of redemption and restoration, which is crucial in understanding Eve’s place in the story of salvation. In contrast, John Chrysostom’s pastoral approach to Eve reflects a more compassionate and empathetic view. His homilies emphasize the shared human experience of sin and the need for divine grace, offering a more inclusive interpretation of Eve’s role. Ambrose of Milan’s typological reading of Eve as a figure of the Church further enriches our understanding. At the same time, Irenaeus of Lyons’ concept of recapitulation introduces the idea of Eve as a precursor to Mary, the “new Eve,” who plays a pivotal role in the redemption of humanity.

As I consider these patristic interpretations, I am struck by the diversity of thought that has shaped the church’s understanding of Eve. While some of these readings have contributed to the marginalization of women, others offer a more redemptive and balanced pers...

Living Freely Without Fear: A Call to the Church

In the New Testament, the concept of freedom is central to the believer's life. This freedom, as taught by Jesus and the apostles, isn’t just about being released from the bondage of sin; it’s about living in a state of spiritual liberty that reflects the gospel's transformative power. But as we explore this freedom, we must recognize a crucial aspect: true freedom in Christ allows us to live without fear—of each other, of the world, and even of our own failures.

Jesus said in John 8:36, "So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed." This freedom is comprehensive; it’s freedom from sin’s power, freedom from the condemnation of the law, and freedom to live as God intended—joyfully and without fear. Yet, we know that as human beings, we are often entangled in fear. Fear of judgment from others, fear of rejection, fear of failure, and even fear of truly being known. These fears can trap us, keeping us from experiencing the fullness of the freedom Christ promises.

The church, as a community of believers, is meant to be a place where this freedom is lived out collectively. In Galatians 5:13, Paul reminds us, "For you were called to freedom, brothers. Only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but through love serve one another." This freedom isn’t about doing whatever we want; it’s about serving one another in love, free from the constraints of fear, suspicion, or hidden agendas. But what happens when fear creeps in?

Fear can lead us to misunderstand or even harm one another, often under the guise of good intentions. We think we’re protecting ourselves or others, but in reality, fear-driven actions can fracture relationships and sow distrust. James 3:16 says, "For where jealousy and selfish ambition exist, there will be disorder and every vile practice." Fear often disguises itself as concern, leading to jealousy, mistrust, and disunity. Instead of embracing the freedom Christ promises, we can become ensnared by these fears, and our relationships within the church suffer as a result.

So how do we combat this? By cultivating an environment where freedom is not just a theological concept, but a lived reality. A church should be a place where people can be themselves without fear of condemnation, where they are free to grow, free to struggle, and free to be vulnerable. This kind of freedom fosters trust, unity, and deep, authentic relationships.

It’s crucial for us to remember that this freedom is rooted in love and trust—trust in God and trust in one another. As 1 John 4:18 tells us, "There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love." In a community perfected in love, fear has no place. This doesn’t mean we won’t face challenges or misunderstandings, but it does mean that we approach these challenges from a place of love, grace, and freedom rather than fear.

As a pastor, my heart is to help guard this freedom within our community. I want to be someone who nurtures an environment where you can walk in this freedom confidently—free from fear of judgment, free from fear of rejection, and free to be who God has called you to be. This means fostering open communication, encouraging vulnerability, and continually pointing us all back to the freedom we have in Christ.

We are called to be a people who live freely, not just in theory but in practice—loving one another genuinely, trusting one another deeply, and walking together without fear. My prayer is that we become a community that embodies this freedom, where every person can experience the fullness of life in Christ without the chains of fear holding them back. This is the kind of church I want to be a part of—a church where freedom is our reality, our testimony, and our shared experience.

Living in the Moment: "Are we truly living, or just thinking about life? Join me as I delve into the journey of staying present and finding joy in everyday moments.

Self-improvement.

A testament often heralded but fraught with peril. Indeed, we should strive to work on ourselves, but the reflection of my soul once revealed a man I neither desired to be nor to present to the world.

Improving the frail, fearful, and broken shell I once was, projecting a façade of confidence unconsciously, was not the answer. No, that man needed to die. And die, he did.

In some cases, the situation is so dire that replacement, not repair, is the only viable option. Yet, this does not negate the principle that everything is redeemable; everyone is capable of change.

It doesn't require mastery to effect this transformation. It requires discovery.

The more VALUE you bring into the world, the less freedom you have to sabotage your life because your purpose becomes a lifeline for others. Picture this: a single drop of water falling into a still pond, creating ripples that extend far beyond its point of impact. Similarly, our actions and purpose send waves that touch lives we might never meet. This truth underscores a profound reality: as our influence grows, so does our responsibility. Our actions no longer affect just ourselves; they ripple out, impacting the lives of those who depend on our purpose, our vision, and our very being.

Meeting people is where life happens, I believe, in its purest form. At this point, I realize that just as I have been inspired and in awe of others, they, too, have been inspired and in awe of me. This mutual inspiration is the essence of human connection. We are only special in our unique ability and interest in the lives of those around us… which makes us part of something greater: purpose, legacy, movement. I am often inspired.

Yet, this dependency from others can morph into unhealthy codependency if not navigated with wisdom and discernment. Consider the overbearing parent who, in their desire to protect, stifles the growth and independence of their child. It is here that we must lead from the ROOT of autonomy. Autonomy does not imply isolation but rather a well-defined sense of self that establishes clear boundaries with everyone around us. Imagine a garden: each plant thrives best when given its own space to grow, with clear boundaries to prevent entanglement and allow each one to flourish. These boundaries are not barriers but bridges to healthier, more authentic relationships. They delineate where we end and others begin, fostering an environment where mutual respect and individual growth coexist.

This is where strong interdependence and accountability are forged. It is within this space of healthy boundaries and self-awareness that intimate life thrives. Think of a dance: two partners moving in harmony, each aware of their own steps yet perfectly in sync with the other. This thriving intimacy is not confined to romantic relationships but extends to all forms of human connection. It is the bedrock upon which trust is built and upon which transformation occurs.

For the believer, this autonomy is the ROOT of our purpose, the POWER of our being, the CONTROL of our intention, and the PLAYFULNESS found in the joy of being who we are without fear, shame, or regret. Our faith informs and enriches this autonomy, grounding it in a higher purpose and a deeper sense of belonging. Imagine a tree rooted deeply in rich soil: its stability and growth come from its roots, but it reaches out, providing shade, fruit, and shelter to the world around it.

This is the abundant life shared with others. It is a life marked by the freedom to be authentically ourselves while embracing the responsibility that comes with our influence. It is a life where joy is not a fleeting emotion but a deep-seated state of being, born out of the assurance of our place in the world and our impact on it. Picture a lighthouse standing firm on the shore: it is grounded and unwavering, providing guidance and safety to all who navigate the turbulent waters.

Conversations That Transform – Part 2: Finding Joy, Clarity, and Purpose in Every Word

Video Link: In this continuation of "Are You Listening?", Dr. James Tippins explores the remaining principles of how our conversations, inspired by the Word of God, can lead to transformation. Dive into the discussion as we uncover how our words can illuminate, guide, and bring peace. Learn how to nurture growth through intentional dialogue and imagine a life where every conversation is an opportunity for change. Join us for Part 2 of this enlightening series.

Podcast Notes (Part 2: Points 11-20):

Metaphor of Light:

Words as light that dispel darkness in others' lives.

Proof Texts: Matthew 5:14-15; Ephesians 5:8

Purpose in Every Word:

Every word should build up and give grace.

Proof Texts: Ephesians 4:29; Proverbs 18:4

Overcoming Negativity:

Using words to counteract negative narratives and spread positivity.

Proof Texts: Philippians 4:8; Romans 12:2

Example of Jesus:

Jesus' transformative conversations as a model for us.

Proof Texts: John 4:13-14; John 8:12

Inviting Others In:

Creating a tapestry of understanding and support through shared conversations.

Proof Texts: Romans 15:7; 1 Thessalonians 5:14

The Role of Listening:

Effective conversations start with truly hearing others.

Proof Texts: James 1:19; Proverbs 18:13

Cultural Engagement:

Thoughtful engagement with culture reflecting Christ’s love.

Proof Texts: 1 Corinthians 9:22; Colossians 4:5-6

Creative Purpose in Life:

Sharing ideas and dreams to inspire and motivate each other.

Proof Texts: 1 Peter 4:10; Ephesians 2:10

Nurturing Growth:

Nurturing relationships through consistent, loving conversations.

Proof Texts: Galatians 6:2; Hebrews 3:13

Imagine Your Life:

Envisioning a life where every conversation transforms and brings joy, clarity, and purpose.

Proof Texts: Ephesians 4:15; Proverbs 12:25

Video Link: In this episode of "Are You Listening?" Dr. James Tippins delves into the transformative power of conversations grounded in the Word of God. Join us as we explore the first ten principles of how hearing and speaking the truth of Christ can bring joy, clarity, and purpose into our lives and the lives of those around us. Discover how our words can be vessels of grace, build community, and foster healing. Don't miss this insightful discussion that will inspire you to use your conversations for positive change.

Podcast Notes (Part 1: Points 1-10):

The Power of the Word:

The transformative nature of God's Word, likened to a seed that changes everything around it.

Proof Texts: Isaiah 55:11; Hebrews 4:12

Transformation through Hearing:

Faith comes from hearing the Word of Christ, renewing our hearts and minds.

Proof Texts: Romans 10:17; James 1:22

Speaking Life:

Our words, empowered by Christ, have the power to build up and encourage.

Proof Texts: Proverbs 18:21; Ephesians 4:29

Conversations that Matter:

Speaking with intention and love opens doors to transformation.

Proof Texts: Colossians 4:6; Proverbs 15:4

The Ripple Effect:

Words create ripples of influence far beyond the initial conversation.

Proof Texts: Galatians 6:9; Matthew 5:16

Empowerment through Truth:

Grounded in Christ's truth, our words offer strength and guidance.

Proof Texts: John 8:32; 2 Timothy 1:7

Building Community:

Early Church's devotion to fellowship and teaching as a model for us.

Proof Texts: Acts 2:42; Hebrews 10:24-25

Healing through Words:

Gracious words bring healing and sweetness to the soul.

Proof Texts: Proverbs 16:24; Proverbs 12:18

Creating Space for New Conversations:

Intentional spaces for discussions on Church, Christian living, and culture.

Proof Texts: Colossians 3:16; 1 Thessalonians 5:11

Living Out Our Faith:

Conversations as opportunities to live out and share our faith.

Proof Texts: James 2:17; 1 Peter 3:15