We tell ourselves narratives that guide each aspect of our lives. How does this relate to our perception of our health and bodies? 

Every day we tell ourselves a story about who we are, how life works, and what’s possible for us. When those stories are shaped by fear or insecurity, they can quietly hold us back. In this message, we confront our personal narratives with God’s truth and begin telling ourselves a better story.

This week we unpack the historical and philosophical background that informs our theology of the Body. 

What if your body isn’t a problem to fix, but a gift to receive? This message invites us to step back from shame and disappointment and rediscover God’s view of the body—as something good, intentional, and deeply connected to our spiritual lives.

There can be a lot of power in an intentional resolution built upon a plan of sustainability. 

On Christmas Eve, we remember that God did not come with power or spectacle, but with a heartbeat. In the quiet vulnerability of a tiny heart, Jesus chose less so we could receive true peace—with God, within ourselves, and with one another.

What is worship really for? How slowing down, honoring tradition, and embracing humility can re-center us on Christ.

Christmas Communion invites us to step off the Christmas crazy train and slow down long enough to be fully present with Jesus. Rather than learning something new, this message creates space to remember—through quiet, scripture, ancient prayers, and communion—the God who chose less so we could have what matters most. In stillness and gratitude, we rediscover the simplicity, intimacy, and hope found in Christ’s birth, life, death, and promised return.

This was a super fun conversation on the mystery of the Trinity, the miracle of the incarnation, and the joy Jesus experienced in the people around him. 

In this message, we’re invited to slow down, be fully present, and discover how joy shows up when we stop living in the past or the future and actually show up where we are. Because it turns out, joy doesn’t live in excess—it lives in presence.