Have you ever felt like an impostor, as if you didn't belong? I remember thinking I was alone in this feeling, but then I discovered that some of the most talented and successful people I know experience this on a regular basis. When God called Moses, Moses had questions about God, but also questions about himself: Am I good enough for God to use me? Will people believe God is working through me?

A good sermon will often lead to more questions than answers. This week, Rev. Peters poses this question - what happens if we take ourselves out of the center of our theology, and invite a fully new idea from the margins? Will we find God only in the places and people familiar to us, or something entirely unexpected. Teaching from the book of Acts, Rev. Peters brings the story of the Ethopian eunuch to new life.

On the first Holy Saturday, those who loved Jesus most had nothing to do but wait. They had nothing to celebrate, neither could they properly mourn. They simply had to wait for the sabbath to pass so they might properly bury and mourn their lost Rabbi. They didn't know that the greatest gift they would ever receive was mere hours away.

Last year I had a conversation with a person I greatly admire. She has experienced great strife in her life, and yet I’ve always seen her respond with great kindness and grace, even in the toughest moments. I finally got the courage to ask her: How do you do it? Why don’t you yell and scream and curse at the people who are trying to hurt you? She replied, I can’t control those people, I can only control myself, and I think that Jesus wants me to show them love, even when they can’t show it to me.These simple words wrecked me. We read a similar sentiment shared by Jesus in the gospels, but I’ve never seen it lived out with such courage. Ever since that conversation, I’ve asked myself: What can I control?

The book of Isaiah offers us a simple and yet profound statement about the nature of God's work in this world:“Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?”The truth is we do not always perceive it. We don’t always see and understand how God is moving and fostering change and growth. Moreover, it’s not our job to see it all or to know it all—we are called to be people of faith. We are called to be the people who listen, discern, and trust that God is moving through it all, even when we can’t quite perceive it.This week, 4,000 United Methodists from across the globe are traveling to St. Louis for General Conference. I invite you to pray for them all, to pray for the church, and to do your best to trust that God is up to something in our midst, even if we can’t quite perceive it.

We all want good things for ourselves, but what do we want for our enemies? As we continue our Woke Church series, we explore how Christians are called to love, pray for, and invite those who might oppose us.

Jesus is calling us to wake up! So we can see what is happening around us now, and know what to do next.

Advent and Christmas are supposed to be a time of joy. But do you have a hard time finding it in the midst of the injustices swarming around us? The gospels offer us a vision of finding joy despite the brokenness. What can Mary and Elizabeth teach us about subversive joy?

The Second Part of our Dare to Hope Series

I’m convinced waiting can be its own kind of torture. When anxiety is high, minutes imitate hours and time constantly threatens to stand still. Once I had to call 911 to help someone I love. When I think back on that call, I remember the careful and measured words of the operator: she said “I am going to wait here with you. It won’t take long—help is on the way!” I can’t tell you whether it was her promise to stay with me, or the assurance that help was inbound that helped to calm my nerves at that moment—I think it must have been the combination of those promises. I didn’t have to worry because I wasn’t alone, and I could trust that things might be okay because, after all, help was on the way.