Empathy is not weakness. Compassion is not optional. In Luke’s gospel, Jesus comes down from the mountain to show us what real power looks like—and it starts with love that crosses every line.

Empathy is not weakness. Compassion is not optional. In Luke’s gospel, Jesus comes down from the mountain to show us what real power looks like—and it starts with love that crosses every line.
Jesus isn’t the quiet guest in the corner. He’s the one who sees your emptiness and says, “Hey y’all, watch this.” That’s what hope looks like.
The water of baptism doesn’t stay in the font. It flows into your life, into the world, into every dry and weary place. Because grace doesn’t quit—and neither does God.
Growing up is hard—whether you’re a kid, a parent, or a person of faith. Sometimes the next step comes before you feel ready. But grace stays in motion.
Christmas is the sound of God drawing near—not with anger, but with love. Listen for the footsteps that walk with us, as one of us, even now.
Even in a fractured world, joy holds its ground. The Christian life dares us to rejoice—not because life is easy, but because God is still at work.
Advent isn’t about fear. It’s about hope. The God who began a good work in you is not done yet—and the promise still holds.
Power, inverted. Glory, redefined. In Christ’s kingdom, the last are first, the lost are found, and love wears the crown.
Grace isn’t a gamble. It’s the guarantee of a love that chooses you, adopts you, and will never let you go.
In uncertain times, it is tempting to grip power tightly or place hope in temporary things. But Christians are called to something deeper: a different worldview, a looser grip, and an unapologetic trust in Jesus, our Great High Priest.