In Luke 15 Jesus tells a parable about a man with two sons—both estranged from their father in different ways. Whether we’ve wandered far from home or toiled in self-righteousness, this passage points us to the gracious Father who seeks His lost children, restores them by His mercy, and calls them to find their fulfillment in Him.

What does it mean to say, “The Lord is my shepherd”? Psalm 23 calls us to remember who leads us and who cares for us—not only in green pastures and beside still waters, but through the valleys, in the presence of our enemies, and all the way home. Because our Shepherd is also our King, we can trust His steadfast love, His provision, and His protection, as we rest and rejoice in the sure hope of dwelling with Him forever.

You will never get to the edges of God — and that's good news. Paul, after eleven chapters explaining salvation, runs out of words and breaks into song over a God whose judgments can't be searched out, who can't be advised, and who can't be repaid. If you've been carrying the weight of needing to know why, this passage lifts it off you. The call is simple, and it will take the rest of your life: live in worship.

Finishing your to-do list won't make your life fruitful. Paul offers a different measure: a freedom that isn't the absence of constraints but the presence of the right ones, and a Spirit-grown character that shows up in your attitudes long before your actions. He also names the sins that hide in plain sight — the envy that looks like hard work and earns you praise, the rift caused by one well-placed word. If you're tired of keeping up the facade, the call is to abide in Christ, walk in the Spirit, and trust him for fruit only he can grow.

When life gets too noisy or too uncertain, prayer is usually the first thing to go. Scripture records its first prayers in Genesis 4 — people called on the name of the LORD only once they realized God's rescue would take longer than they'd hoped — and that recognition of need is what our prayers have quietly lost. Too often they've become fire-and-forget requests sent into the ether, when they should be pleading, expectant, and full of praise before the sorrow ever lifts. If you've stopped praying for that friend, that person too far gone, that situation too dire — press back in.

Whose church do you think this is? John closes his letters with two men set side by side: Gaius, who opened his home and his wallet to traveling missionaries he'd never met, and Diotrephes, who liked to put himself first and shut the door on the people he should have welcomed. The difference between them isn't personality — it's whether love or self-preservation is running the show. As we finish our series in John's letters, the call is simple and costly: set aside pride, welcome others, and remember that this church is God's, not ours.

You never get past Jesus. John writes to a church surrounded by deceivers, and his word is not "go on ahead" but "abide" — hold fast to the teaching of Christ and to the old commandment to love one another. That means being careful whose voice you platform, because someone is always following your lead. If you've been tempted to chase what's new, this is a call back to the basics — and back to the family of God you already belong to.

In this message from the “One Another” series, we explore Paul’s command to “encourage one another and build one another up.” Looking at the Greek word parakaleo—to come alongside and call—we discover that biblical encouragement is far more than positive words. It is the ministry of reminding one another who we are in Christ and helping each other persevere in faith.

You can know you have eternal life — not hope it, not guess it, but know it. Closing his letter, John repeats “we know” six times in nine verses, binding a handful of scattered final thoughts into one thread of assurance. If you’ve ever wondered whether your faith is real, these last words are for you.

Whose word do you stake your life on? John builds a courtroom case in which three witnesses (the water, the blood, and the Spirit) agree that Jesus truly came in the flesh and that eternal life is found in him alone. But the greater testimony isn’t only historical; it’s the Spirit’s witness already at work in the believer, the changed life that proves the gospel true. To trust the word of men over the testimony of God is to call God a liar, so the question lands close: do you have the Son, and will you take God at his word?