Kintsugi of the Heart

This morning, as we prepare for communion, I want to focus on the amazing power of Christ’s redemption. Can you think of a time, when you broke something valuable and wished that it could be put back together as though nothing was wrong?

I can still remember it like it was yesterday. Standing in my friend's grandparents' living room in the mid-1980s, admiring a beautiful end table – beveled glass, chandelier-like sparkles. Then, in a flash, it was shattered. I’d lost my balance, tried to steady myself, and the table, never meant to support my weight, crumbled beneath me. My heart sank. What a mistake! How could we pay for it? How could I explain it? If only I could undo what I’d done. Regret, remorse…if only I could put it back together.

That memory brings to mind the Japanese art of Kintsugi. Broken pottery and furniture aren't just discarded; they're painstakingly repaired, the cracks filled with melted gold. The brokenness is not hidden, but highlighted, transformed into something even more beautiful. The piece is stronger, more unique, because of its history.

As we prepare for communion, I want to read 1 Corinthians 11:23-28 23 For I received from the Lord what I also passed on to you: The Lord Jesus, on the night he was betrayed, took bread, 24 and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, “This is my body, which is for you; do this in remembrance of me.” 25 In the same way, after supper he took the cup, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood; do this, whenever you drink it, in remembrance of me.” 26 For whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.

27 So then, whoever eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of sinning against the body and blood of the Lord. 28 Everyone ought to examine themselves before they eat of the bread and drink from the cup. 29 For those who eat and drink without discerning the body of Christ eat and drink judgment on themselves.

As we remember Christ and examine ourselves, you will find that you are broken. We all make mistakes, we stumble, we fall short. We carry regrets, remorse for words spoken or actions taken. We feel the weight of our imperfections. But the amazing grace of Jesus is like that gold in Kintsugi. It doesn't erase our brokenness, but it redeems it. It fills the cracks, mends the shattered pieces, and transforms us into something even more beautiful than we were before.

The apostle Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 5:17, "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!" This communion, this meal we share, is a powerful reminder of that new creation. It's a symbol of God's unwavering love and forgiveness, freely offered to each of us, broken as we are. It’s a chance to experience that golden mending, to be strengthened and renewed.

As we partake in this communion, let us come to him, broken and weary, knowing that his grace is sufficient, that his love heals, and that he makes all things new. Let us receive his gift of forgiveness and be transformed, like a piece of Kintsugi art, into something beautiful and strong, bearing the marks of our journey, but made whole by his love.

Truth or Love

Has anyone ever played the fun and lighthearted game “Truth or Dare”? It’s a great way to learn more about each other. If you choose truth, you have to answer honestly. If you choose dare, you take on a silly challenge. As I’ve grown older, I’ve realized that life often feels like a different version of this game—one I’d call Truth or Love.

This past week, I found myself in a round of “Truth or Love” with a family member I only see about once a year. His anger toward people with opposing political views can sometimes feel overwhelming. With the upcoming inauguration, he must have been triggered because he sent me a message saying, “The last time I was in Ohio in August, I said, ‘If Ohio votes for Trump, I’ll never go to that awful state again.’” Except, he used a word even harsher than “awful.” He went on to state he didn’t think he would be coming to our reunion that he has attended for 48 years.

Hearing those words stung—not just because of our political differences, but because it felt like being right mattered more than loving family. I had a decision to make: Would I respond with truth, or would I choose love?

Some of my favorite scriptures helped guide me. Romans 12:18 says, “As far as it depends on you, make every effort to do what is right in the eyes of everyone and to live at peace with everyone.” In 1 Corinthians, we’re reminded, “Love is patient, love is kind… it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.” And in Ephesians 3:19, we’re told that “Love surpasses knowledge.”

So, I chose love. I reminded him that, in our family, we’ve always loved one another—regardless of what or how much we drink, smoke, eat, who we love, how many we love, or where we place our bets in life. We’re a very diverse and beautiful crew that has managed to come together consistently for 48 years! That simple reminder softened the tension. We ended up having a great conversation. In this case, sharing my “truth” would have only stirred the pot. Choosing love kept the peace, and I hope it continues to allow us to share life with one another.

When we look at the cross, we’re reminded that Jesus also chose love. He never shied away from the truth, but He used it wisely—never as a weapon. In His life, and especially in His death, Jesus showed us how to balance truth and love perfectly.

As we come to the cross and examine our hearts, we face a similar challenge. The fact is, we play “Truth or Love” with ourselves every day. The truth is, we don’t deserve forgiveness so we risk being overly critical and judgmental of ourselves. But God’s love is so great that He gave His Son for us. Truth and love meet in the messy middle—where grace abounds and allows us to win. I pray we accept His grace, instead of living in cycles of guilt and despair. His love transform us.

So this week, as we take communion, let’s reflect on the love that surpasses knowledge. Let’s thank God for showing us that love isn’t about choosing sides—it’s about choosing Him.

 

When Bravery Feels Like Fear

Sometimes, bravery feels like fear. Can you think of a time when you were afraid but chose to act anyway? One of the scariest times of my life was in college when I decided to go on a mission trip to Haiti. Our pastor Dave was encouraging us to be uncomfortable with our comfortableness. Well,I was certainly uncomfortable because I had to leave the group I traveled with early and make an eight-hour journey south from St. Louis Du Nord to Port Au Prince with only an interpreter I didn’t know, just to make it back in time for a clinical internship. I was terrified, fearing the worst—that I might be taken hostage for ransom. Yet, despite my fear, I found the courage to move forward. At that moment, bravery felt a lot like fear.

Perhaps you’ve had similar experiences, where your courage felt more like fear. It reminds me of what Jesus faced after the Last Supper when He went to the Garden of Gethsemane. He knew what awaited Him: betrayal, suffering, and death on the cross. Luke 22:44 says, “And being in anguish, He prayed more earnestly, and His sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground.” Here, we see our Savior in a moment of deep human fear. He even prayed, “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done.”

Jesus felt the full weight of what lay ahead, yet He did not let fear dictate His actions. His bravery must have felt like overwhelming fear. If He had listened to that fear more than to His sense of purpose, we would not be here today. Instead, He chose to trust His Father’s will, motivated by love for God and love for us.

As we take the bread and the cup today, remember that Jesus’ courage led Him to the cross. But the story did not end there—His courage in the face of fear led to the ultimate victory: victory over sin, over death, and over every power of darkness. When He walked out of the tomb, He gave us hope that no fear is too great and no pain too deep for God’s love to redeem.

So, if you’re facing a time when courage feels a lot like fear, take heart. Jesus understands that feeling. His example shows us that true courage is not the absence of fear, but the decision to trust God’s plan, even when we don’t know what lies ahead. As we eat and drink, may we draw strength from His sacrifice, and remember that because of His victory, we too can face our fears with hope and assurance.

Prayer:

Father, You are the Master of all emotions. You have felt them all. Help us, Lord, to choose what is right and true, even when our hearts are trembling. Help us to trust Your plan, knowing that Your love is greater than our fears, and may our love for you and others be way louder than the fear. Help us to be uncomfortable with our comfortableness. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Marvelous Light!

Marvelous Light

As we prepare for communion this morning, let’s reflect on the song we just sang, *Marvelous Light*. This week, I spent a lot of time meditating on its words. At first, they felt like just words—maybe because I was distracted by work and life. But as I prayed and kept the song in my heart, the meaning began to take root.

The opening line says, *“I once was fatherless.”* This reminded me of when life was all about me—when I pursued my will instead of God’s. Johnny Chang, an ex-gang member who turned his life around through Christ, said that living for ourselves leads to destruction. We can see this in the headlines today, where the "all-about-me" mindset often leads to tragedy.

*“Your kindness wakens me, Your love beckons deeply.”* Christ’s love stirs something within us. It draws us toward the cross, where we find true life. His love pulls us away from chasing our own desires and points us to something greater.

*“Sin has lost its power.”* This doesn’t happen by us trying harder to avoid sin. Instead, it happens when we see temptation as a chance to show God our love. Grace weakens sin’s grip.

Death has lost its sting because, in Christ, we know death is not the end. We are alive forever in Him!

Running into His marvelous light isn’t just an emotional moment—it’s a daily choice to turn away from our self-centered ways and live for Christ. Out of darkness, out of shame, we stop following our appetites and start following Him, forming new, Christ-centered habits.

*“By the cross.”* This isn’t just about following a great teacher. It’s about following the God who raised Christ from the dead. It’s about living by His truth, not by our feelings.

Living this way takes relentless practice and effort. Coming to the communion table is a time to recharge and refocus. We won’t always feel like lifting our hands or celebrating, but as we grow in Him, those moments of joy will come more often. We’ll realize more fully that we’re living in His marvelous light.

Let’s pray:

Father, we thank You for the cross and for Christ’s victory. Thank You for the truth that sets us free. We confess the times we’ve been spiritually asleep, following our own will. Help us to live by Your cross, walking in Your marvelous light. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

BATTLE!

One of the things I love most about coaching is watching kids rise to the occasion and battle when times get tough. They may not be able to control the outcome, but they can control how they battle. There's something special about the battle between a pitcher and a batter. The pressure is real—anxiety, even fear—but the team rallies around, offering encouragement. We have an incredibly fast pitcher on our team, and I've noticed three typical responses from the batters: Freeze—where they just stand still, Fight—where they battle with all they've got, and Flight—where they jump out of the batter's box. This past season, one batter actually did both—he jumped out of the box, then right back in, and believe it or not, he got a hit!

In football, I see that same battle during one-on-one Oklahoma drills. The boys face off, one trying to block while the other fights to break through. There's a raw focus and intensity, and in their eyes, you can see sheer determination. As teammates cheer on both sides, there’s a sense of camaraderie that builds in this kind of environment.

Cross-country, though, is where I feel the deepest emotions. Maybe it’s because I know how physically exhausted the runners are, but you can see them giving everything they have. When I watch my son run, I can’t help but reflect on how far he’s come. Watching the other runners, with their different body types and running styles, I’m in awe of each one because I know they’re all fighting their own battles. Yesterday, I saw one of our runners coming down a hill with his mother about 70 yards ahead. Just as I was about to shout words of encouragement, I heard her call out, telling him to run in honor of his brother who had passed away the year before. At that moment, I couldn’t even speak—I was overcome with emotion.

We battle best when our team is behind us, when we’re focused and determined, and when our motivation comes from deep within. Sometimes we battle for ourselves, but the most powerful and inspiring moments come when we battle for others—and for Christ.

Communion reminds us that the ultimate battle has already been won. Jesus’ love for us, shown through His sacrifice on the cross, gives us the strength to keep battling, not just for ourselves but for others as well. Jesus won the greatest battle on the cross, and while the fight for our salvation is finished, we still face daily struggles against the devil’s schemes.

This morning, as we prepare for communion, let us focus on Ephesians 6:10-18 as the foundation of our prayer.

Your Life is an Etch A Sketch

Good morning! Kids and teens—how was your first week of school? How many of you look forward to the start of the school year, not just because you "get" to return to school, but because it's a chance for a new beginning? I remember looking forward to it when I was your age. I liked starting fresh with new teachers, classrooms, and a new schedule. I was a bit ornery as a kid, so I was always grateful for those new beginnings.

Fresh starts are powerful and motivating. They remind me of playing with an Etch A Sketch or one of those magnetic drawing boards when I was a kid. You could start drawing, mess up, and then just shake it or swipe it clean, ready to begin again.

Forgiveness in our lives is like wiping the slate clean. It allows us to start over. It feels good to receive forgiveness when we mess up, and it feels just as good to forgive others. Forgiveness is at the heart of what we celebrate taking communion together.

Last week, we witnessed the baptisms of Megan, Abby, and Logan. It was a powerful reminder of new beginnings—the old is gone, the new has come. Communion serves as a reminder that Christ cleared our "Etch A Sketch" or our "magnetic drawing board" We get to begin a new day, a new week, with a fresh start.

As we prepare for communion, here are two things to reflect on:  

1.   Spiritual transformation, or simply put, change takes time. It is normal to come here week after week and sometimes feel like you're not making progress. Spiritual transformation takes time. It takes time for Christ's love to fill us as we remain in Him, it is relational, and a learning process—sometimes even a battle. In Romans, Paul says:

I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death? Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!" (Romans 7:15-20, 24-25 NIV)

2.           Remember—thanks to Christ, thanks to the cross, He forgives you. He wipes the slate clean. It is a new day, a new beginning.

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!  (2 Corinthians 5:17, NIV)

We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life. (Romans 6:4, NIV)

Would you pray with me?

Open Your Eyes!

Have you ever heard a fan or coach yell to an official, “Open your eyes, ref!” or “Open your eyes, blue!”? The comment clearly implies that they believe the referee made the wrong call. If you’ve ever been an umpire or a referee, you know it can be difficult to see everything accurately. Often, it's easier to see things clearly from a better position to make the right call. But it just seems like some officials may not make enough effort to get into the right position to make the right call. If they had just taken a few extra steps, maybe they would’ve been able to see clearly. Could it be the same for us sometimes? If we would just seek to understand, to see things from a different perspective, perhaps we could make the right calls more often. But it’s a lot easier to judge than to understand, right?

Communion is a special time when we can pray for God to help open our eyes, to help us see where He is, to help us see where we are, and where He needs us to be. As scripture tells us, it's a time to examine ourselves to ensure we are focused on what we should be thinking about at this moment. 1 Corinthians 11:23-26 states:

“The Lord Jesus, on the night he was betrayed, took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, ‘This is my body, which is for you; do this in remembrance of me.’ In the same way, after supper, he took the cup, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant in my blood; do this whenever you drink it, in remembrance of me.’”

The new covenant that Jesus established through His blood opens our eyes. Let me share a personal story. Our family was in Washington, D.C., eating in Union Station when a man approached our table and asked me for money for transportation. Working in Canton, I am frequently asked for money and have developed a knee-jerk reaction. I am just into a habitual, more efficient way of responding in these cases and it’s just easier to judge than to understand. I told him no. My daughter questioned me, asking, "You mean you can’t help him?" I explained that I would be willing to take him to a restaurant to buy food. Sure enough, a second individual approached asking for money. I offered to buy him food instead, and he agreed. As we stood in line together, I wanted to get to know him. It was hard. It was awkward. I fumbled over my words, and after we received his food, I let him know Jesus loves him. It was in that moment I realized my initial knee-jerk reaction, that habitual way of thinking about a circumstance, had closed my eyes to an opportunity to show Christ’s love to others.

This morning, let’s ask God to open our eyes to the impact of His body and blood on our lives. Pray that He will help us see where we are and where He wants us to be.

Would you pray with me:

Father, thank you for Jesus and His sacrifice on the cross. Help us see where You are, where we are, and where You want us to be. Give us the courage, the energy, and the motivation to get into the proper position. In Jesus' name, Amen.

Would you pray with me: