Last week, we unpacked prayer and explored what it means to pray—and why our prayers matter. This week, I want us to lean into another spiritual discipline: silence. Now honestly, when I told someone I was preaching on silence, I immediately regretted it. I think my exact words were, “Why did I say I would preach on silence?!” And without missing a beat, she said, “Ah yes… silence. The thing you love so much.” And listen—that’s fair. I love to talk. I love conversation, stories, laughter, noise. I love to yap. But somewhere along the way, we’ve confused being busy with being spiritually healthy. We fill every quiet moment with music, podcasts, scrolling, notifications, or our own thoughts. And because of that, many of us have forgotten how to simply be still before God. Yet Scripture says, “Be still, and know that I am God.” Silence is uncomfortable because it forces us to slow down. It strips away distractions. It exposes what’s really going on in our hearts. But silence is also sacred, because when the noise fades, we begin to hear the voice of Jesus more clearly. If we never embrace silence, we may miss the Love, Light, and Hope Christ is trying to speak into our lives. Silence is not the absence of God. Sometimes, it is the very place where God speaks the loudest. Passage: Mark 1:32-39 CEB

As Annual Conference gathers the Florida Conference of The United Methodist Church here in Lakeland, we are invited into a powerful theme: awakening to grace. In the Methodist tradition, we believe God meets us through the means of grace—through prayer, worship, communion, Scripture, service, and community. These practices are not just habits; they are holy pathways that awaken us to the presence and love of God already at work among us. In this new series, we will reconnect with our spiritual heritage while discovering fresh ways to experience God’s grace in our everyday lives. My hope is that together we will be awakened again—to the love, light, and hope of Jesus Christ. May we be rooted deeply in prayer, open fully to God’s presence, and transformed by the grace that has always been reaching toward us. Passage: Matthew 6:5-13 CEB

As we come to the close of our series, Like a Girl, it feels fitting that we also gather to celebrate Mother's Day. Every one of us has a mother, and today’s story centers on two women whose lives show us the beauty of shared love and shared strength. Together, they offer us a vision of what life can look like when community matters more than self-interest. Their story invites us into a way of living where care is mutual, burdens are shared, and love is given freely. May we learn to love ourselves well, so that we can love others boldly and wildly. Passage: Luke 1:39-45 CEB

In a world captivated by the image of the lone, heroic leader, the story of Deborah reminds us that the greatest callings in our lives are never meant to be carried alone. As Gretchen learned in the Marine Corps, and as we discover in our everyday lives, we always go farther when we go together. Today, I want to remind us all that each of us leads somewhere, and that the best outcomes are often waiting on the other side of collaboration. So may we have the courage, wisdom, and humility to lead like Deborah. Passage: Judges 4:6-9 CEB

As we begin a new series exploring the often-overlooked stories of women in the Bible, it feels important to say this: it shouldn’t have to be a series—but it does. Women have always been central to our faith. Their courage, leadership, and witness are woven throughout Scripture. And yet, too often, their stories have been minimized while louder voices have tried to define their place. If those voices have been loud, then ours must be louder still. I’m grateful to add my voice to this growing chorus—people whose faith has been strengthened, challenged, and shaped by the women of Scripture. May we be faithful like Miriam. May we be willing to show up. May we listen, learn, and carry these stories forward. Passage: Exodus 2:2-8 CEB

Join Reverend Michael LeBlanc at our Chapel Campus as we celebrate a full year of worshiping together every Sunday in this wonderful location. Be part of this special milestone and experience the joy of community, reflection, and faith. Passage: John 20:19-31 CEB

Friends, Lent is over. As a church, we’ve spent this sacred season wrestling with deconstruction—what it means to gently, honestly take apart a faith that may have been handed to us in pieces that no longer fit, and to begin rebuilding something more durable, more vibrant, more expansive. Not a faith rooted in fear, but one grounded in truth. Not something brittle, but something alive. And today is Easter. Today, we remember that what we are building is not a system of rules or a list of boundaries. It is not small, and it is not fragile. It is a living freedom—a hope that does not collapse under doubt, a love that is not undone by questions. This is the kind of faith that walks through death and comes out the other side. This is resurrection. Passage: John 20:11-18 CEB

Join Reverend Michael at our Chapel Campus during our sunrise service on Easter morning. Passage: John 20:11-18 CEB

The joy of my life is to be— as a friend once named it— confetti for Jesus. Bright. Scattered. Alive with celebration. But tonight… Good Friday asks something different of me. It asks me to gather the pieces, to still the color, to quiet the joy. Because this night is not like the others. This is not a night for noise or lightness. Tonight, the world slows. The sky darkens. And we remember. We stand at the foot of the cross— not rushing past it, not softening it, not looking away. Because if we want to truly know the brilliance of Easter morning, the bursting, radiant joy of resurrection— then we must first sit here… in the weight, in the silence, in the sorrow of Good Friday. Passage: John 19:16-30 CEB

As we come to the end of our Lenten journey—a season where we’ve taken a hard, honest look at the faith of our youth, where we’ve dared to deconstruct and begin reconstructing—I want to invite us one step further down this road. We’ve spoken openly about deconstruction, trusting that together we are capable of rebuilding a faith that is durable, inclusive, and vibrant. A faith that can hold both our questions and our convictions. But today, I want us to consider the next logical step in this journey: proclamation. Because friends, a faith we keep to ourselves is not a faith we truly live. The gospel was never meant to be hidden—it is meant to be embodied, spoken, and shared. So may our lives be so loud with the good news that even without words, the world can hear it. Passage: Luke 19:35-40 CEB