River City Church

What does it look like to truly lose your life for Jesus -- not in some dramatic, distant way, but right here, right now, in this season? This past Sunday, our first gathering in a new space, we heard from our own church family through prophetic words, visions, and testimonies about healing, treasure hidden in unexpected places, and the miraculous that comes when we follow God even into hard in-between seasons.

Pastor Jared reminded us of the words of Jesus in Luke 9:23-24 -- that following Christ means denying yourself daily, and that the life you try to hold onto is the very life you will lose. The call to follow Jesus is, in the deepest sense, a call to die to yourself.

As a church, we are in a new season. There is something God is preparing in and through us. The question is whether we will dig in and find it.

What if the biggest moments in your life started with a simple "wow" instead of "how"? In our final service at Belford, we reflected on 21 years of trusting God with the impossible -- a church built not on certainty, but on obedience and faith in a God who dreams bigger than we do.

From Jeremiah 29:11's promise of hope and a future, to Jesus' words in John 14:12 about doing even greater things, we were reminded that God has always been pulling for River City Church. He sent the right people at the right time, answered prayers that took a decade to unfold, and is now moving us into a new chapter.

As the cloud moves to DuPont, we go forward anchored in Romans 15:13 -- overflowing with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. The best is still ahead.

What if your greatest spiritual blind spot is expecting God to work the way He worked before? In Luke 5, Jesus uses three vivid pictures -- a wedding celebration, a patched garment, and new wine in old wineskins -- to reveal a stunning truth: He did not come to improve the old system. He came to make everything new.

New righteousness. New life. New covenant. Not earned, but received as a gift through faith.

The question is whether we are open to what God is doing right now, or whether we are grumping about change, clinging to the familiar, or quietly going back to the old wine. As Isaiah 43:18-19 reminds us, God says "forget the former things -- see, I am doing a new thing." Do you perceive it?

Preach the gospel to yourself today. God loves you, He is for you, and He is always at work doing something new.

Before Abraham was born, I am. Three simple words that shook the religious elite of Jerusalem to their core and changed everything. This week we explored one of the lesser-known but deeply powerful "I Am" statements of Jesus in John 8:48-59, where Jesus claims the very name God gave Moses in Exodus 3 as his own.

If Jesus is the great I Am, that changes the question we ask. It is no longer "who does he think he is?" but "who do I think I am?" Pride puts us in the center where only God belongs. Humility, confession, and worship are what bring us back to our source.

Join us as we dig into what it means to submit to the one who was, who is, and who always will be. He is not just a teacher or a good man. He is I Am.

What if the most outrageous claim anyone could ever make turned out to be the truest thing in the universe? In John 11:25, Jesus looks a grieving woman in the eye and says, "I am the resurrection and the life." Not I bring resurrection. Not I teach about resurrection. I am it.

Through the story of Lazarus, we see a Jesus who weeps with those who weep, who enters into real human grief, and who still has power over death itself. That changes everything about how we face loss, suffering, and uncertainty.

If Jesus is resurrection and life, then no sadness, tragedy, or disappointment is final. Every hard thing is on a timer. This story ends with joy, and that hope is unshakable.

Come join us and explore what it means to exchange "if only" for "if Jesus."

What kind of shepherd lays down his life for the sheep? Not a hired hand. Not just a good leader. The Good Shepherd.

This Sunday we explored John 10:11-18, where Jesus makes one of the most profound claims in all of scripture. He does not merely manage the flock from a safe distance. He walks into danger, absorbs the threat, and lays his life down willingly so that his sheep can live. As he says in verse 18, no one takes it from him. He lays it down on his own authority, and he takes it up again.

Psalm 23 is not just a comforting poem. It is a portrait of a shepherd who walks with you through the valley, prepares a table in front of your enemies, and makes you lie down when you are too worn out to stop on your own. Jesus is the fulfillment of every word of it.