Mercy Hill

Hope isn't wishful thinking. It's what keeps us moving forward.

In Romans 15:4-5 & 13, Paul reminds us that the Scriptures were written to give us endurance and encouragement — so that we could have hope. And that hope doesn't come from our circumstances or our own willpower. It comes from "the God of hope," who fills us with joy and peace so that we can overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.

Life has a way of wearing us down. Discouragement is real. But we're not meant to press on by gritting our teeth and hoping things get better. We press on because our hope is anchored in Someone who never runs out of it.

Have you ever been somewhere and thought to yourself, “Something just seems off”? For instance, maybe you were at Chick-fil-A and the cashier didn’t say, “My pleasure.” Those two words are so woven into the culture of Chick-fil-A that it feels strangely out of place when you don’t hear them.

In Romans 15:4–7, Paul paints a beautiful picture of the church using words like “hope,” “harmony,” and “welcome.” But as we compare that picture to our own experience, we may find ourselves thinking that something feels off. We read about the hope Jesus gives, but do we feel hopeful? We see the harmony Scripture describes, but are we experiencing it? We hear that we’re called to welcome one another, but is that reflected in the culture of our church?

Growth was never meant to happen alone.

In Romans 15:1-4, Paul reminds us that those who are strong carry a responsibility — not to please themselves, but to bear with others and build them up. Even Christ didn't live to please himself. He gave himself for others, and that's the pattern we're called to follow.

Formation isn't just something that happens to us in isolation. It happens in community — when we choose to encourage, strengthen, and carry each other instead of just looking out for ourselves.

This Sunday we talked about what it looks like to live for someone else's growth, not just our own — and how that's actually the path to real spiritual maturity.

For the past several months we’ve walked through the rise and fall of Israel’s kings. We’ve seen Saul’s failure, David’s triumphs and sins, Solomon’s wisdom and downfall, a divided kingdom, and the nation’s continual longing for a faithful King.

To conclude this series, we’ll leave the Old Testament and turn to Luke 1:30–33. Before Jesus ever preached a sermon or performed a miracle, an angel showed up with a promise. Gabriel told a young girl named Mary that her son would be great — called the Son of the Most High, given the throne of his father David, reigning over Jacob's house forever. No pressure, right?

That's not just an announcement about a baby. It's an announcement about a King — a different kind than anyone expected, born in a manger instead of a palace, but promised an eternal throne all the same.

This week we asked a simple question: if Jesus really is the King Gabriel described, what does that mean for how we live under his rule right now?

There's a moment on Mount Carmel where Elijah stands alone against 450 prophets of Baal, and he asks Israel a question that still lands like a gut-punch today: "How long will you waver between two opinions?"

Not exactly subtle. But then again, neither is God.

This week we were in 1 Kings 18, and it might be the most dramatic showdown in the whole Old Testament. Altars. Fire. A very sarcastic Elijah taunting false gods that don't answer because — spoiler — they can't. And then, in front of everyone, the real God shows up in a way nobody could miss.

But here's what gets me every time I read this: the question isn't really about ancient idols. It's about ours. The things we quietly serve when we think no one's watching — comfort, approval, control, the version of life we've built for ourselves instead of the one God's actually calling us to.

We all have an altar. The question is who's on it.

Solomon was gone. His son Rehoboam was on the throne. The people came with one simple request: ease up on us.

Rehoboam had a choice. Listen to the elders who'd seen it all, or listen to his friends who wanted to look strong. He chose strong, and he chose wrong. Within days, the kingdom that took generations to build was torn in half. Never to be fully whole again.

This Sunday we were in 1 Kings 12. It's a story about pride, power, and what happens when we'd rather win an argument than win a heart. I don't think this story is just about ancient kings. I think it's about us — our homes, our friendships, our own stubborn hearts.

Solomon had it all — wisdom beyond any king before or after him, wealth, peace on every border. In 1 Kings 3, God granted him a wise and discerning heart.

So how does his story end in chapter 11 with foreign gods and a kingdom on the brink of collapse?

Knowing the right thing isn't the same as doing it. Compromise by compromise, the wisest man alive made some of the most foolish choices in Scripture.

I don't think this story is really about ancient kings. I think it's about us — about how good starts can still end badly if we're not guarding our hearts.

There's a book in your Bible that most people avoid.

It's not exactly a feel-good read. No triumphant victories, no mountaintop moments. Just one man — Solomon, the wisest who ever lived — staring hard at the reality of life and telling you the truth.

You're going to die.

Everyone does. The righteous, the wicked, the good, the bad. The same destination waits for all of us. Solomon doesn't sugarcoat it. He doesn't spiritualize it. He just says it plainly, because pretending otherwise is what keeps us from actually living. But here's where it gets interesting.

Right in the middle of all that honesty about death, Solomon turns a corner — and he tells you something that sounds almost reckless: Go eat your food with gladness. Drink your wine with a joyful heart. Enjoy life with the people you love. Not someday. Not after you've earned it. Now. Today. This is your lot, and God has already approved it.

The joy God intends for your life isn't waiting for you somewhere down the road. It's right in front of you.

This Sunday, we were in Ecclesiastes 9:1–10 with a message called Live Before You Die — and I want to challenge you to come ready to actually receive it. Not just nod along. Not just take notes. But to leave with fresh eyes on the ordinary moments of your life.

The people around your table. The work in your hands. The day right in front of you.

Picture eight brothers lined up in a row. Seven of them look the part — tall, strong, every inch a king. One's out in the field with the sheep.

God walks right past the seven and picks the one.

That's how David's story starts, in 1 Samuel 16. But, it's not how it ends.

This Sunday we continued our King of Kings series by looking at the full arc of David's life — from the unlikely shepherd boy anointed, to his devastating sin..

David was anointed by God, waited years for the throne, united the kingdom, and yet still fell as far as a man can fall. His story reminds us that even the best king Israel ever had couldn't ultimately save God's people.

Join us as we explore David's rise, his failure, and how his life points us to the true King we need — Jesus.

Camp week is officially in the books — and what a week it was.

This Sunday, we got to celebrate together. Camp Pastor Cole is going to share with us how all of creation points to God, straight from Psalm 19:1!