Laid Up to Look Up

I hope you don’t mind some particularly personal words this week, if only to let me process a few things.

It seems like I have been ill more in the past twelve months than I have in all my previous life put together. I was rolling along just fine last June when I ended up in the ER on my anniversary with diverticulitis. Two days later I found out I had prostate cancer to boot. The summer of 2018 was a rough one, recovering from one disease so I could have surgery for another, then the difficult process of healing from that one too. 

But all in all, I came through last summer and fall okay, and very grateful for God’s faithfulness through the process. To be honest, I didn’t learn any great spiritual lessons through my sickness–which was a little disappointing–but I did come out the other side with little more than a few scars, a couple of leftover side effects, and a lot of gratitude. 

The new year began wonderfully for me, with the Lord doing such a fresh work in my life, taking me “deeper” and bringing more healing in me in the process, this time not on the physical level. By His grace, He has drawn me to Himself and taken me to the next level in my love for Him and His word, and once again, the thing that has stood out for me has been an overwhelming since of gratitude.

Which brings me to last week. I woke up with the same kind of symptoms that I had on my anniversary last year, just not as bad, and because there have been some stomach viruses going around, I just assumed that may have been the culprit. I was pretty sick, but went anyway to my quarterly follow-up with my urologist on Friday, where I found out, by the way, that I am still cancer free! While I was there I mentioned that I was feeling bad, with some hints of diverticulitis again, and he sent me for a CT scan. And the radiologist confirmed our suspicions, that it was indeed back.

I went ahead and preached on Sunday, which probably wasn’t a wise move for me or for those who had to endure listening to the sermon. And the days since have been rough. Not only have I struggled physically, eventually it really started to get the best of me mentally and emotionally. I have gotten depressed and frustrated and restless. I don’t know another way of saying it, but I’m just sick of being sick.

And then I got some words of encouragement from a friend, and it was just what the doctor ordered. I was reminded of the pastoral advice I have given several folks in our congregation over the past few years who have gone through tough times with illness; that God is still on the throne, that He is allowing me to walk this road for a reason, and that He probably wants to get my attention. I was reminded of the good work He has been doing in me this year, and told not to ignore this as part of that process. And I was reminded that we have a wonderful body of believers at Shelby Crossings who can “hold my arms up” like Aaron and Hur did Moses and that it’s okay to lean on my brothers and sisters in Christ.

Good words, all. God is at work, even in the midst of sickness and discouragement. His power is perfected in my weakness, and His sufficient grace shines through my insufficiencies. He has a plan, and it might not be for my comfort, but it always has to do with my being conformed to the image of Christ. He is in control, He is good, and He can be trusted.

And let’s face it, there’s enough whining in the world today, and there’s no use me adding my complaints to the chorus of the belly-achers–even if my belly aches. I will be grateful, knowing that He who has begun a good work in me will continue to complete it. I don’t like being sick–not one bit–but sometimes you have to get laid up to look up.

One last thing. There have been several “theme” verses the Lord has been grounding me in in 2019, but none more so than Psalm 62:1-2:  “My soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from Him. He alone is my rock and my salvation. He is my fortress; I will not be shaken.”

So, I think I’ll get some rest, in Him, for my body, and for my soul. And if you happen to face some hard times, don’t miss the opportunity to look up. Thanks for your prayers for me. I hope to see you Sunday.

 –Pastor Ken

A Proposal to Serve

Our message this past Sunday was on servanthood, and we looked at the example of Jesus when He washed His disciples feet. In the sermon, I told a story about my son-in-law washing my daughter’s feet as part of his marriage proposal to her at the ladies’ beach retreat. If you don’t mind a “re-run,” I wanted to share what I wrote about it in this space four years ago this week:

As you may have heard, my youngest daughter got herself betrothed this past Sunday afternoon, on the last afternoon of the ladies beach retreat in Panama City. There’s nothing like a romantic proposal on the beach to make all the ladies weepy and cap off an estrogen-laden weekend.

My future son-in-law had been planning the big day for more than a month, since we had our sit-down conversation the day before Easter. He made the drive down to Panama City on Sunday to surprise her, and had the help of the mother-of-the-bride-to-be, and a few of her accomplices, who participated in a ruse aimed at deceiving the unsuspecting proposée to get her to the right place at the right time on the beach.

There, he set up a chair on the edge of the surf, sat her down in it, and washed her feet. Then, he led her to drier ground, where he knelt before her, dried off her feet, and then presented her a ring and popped the question. (I think she said “Yes.”)

Our Shelby Crossings ladies, watching from across the beach, applauded, and apparently there were several bystanders on the beach who witnessed the whole event as well. One stranger video’d the proposal, which will probably show up on YouTube soon, while another came up immediately afterward to try to sell them on having their wedding at his beach venue nearby. A third couple was the most intriguing to me; they offered their congratulations, mentioned how special it was to be there for the proposal, but then asked about that thing he was doing to her feet. The two new fiancés were then able to explain.

In case that part of the story was foreign to you too, I will explain. The washing of the feet was a symbolic gesture of sevanthood, invoking the picture of what Jesus did for His disciples when He washed their feet (John 13). It is not a real common scene in today’s society–either the foot-washing, or the servanthood–but it was a wonderful expression of Christ-like love, and I pray it will serve as a solid foundation on which to build their upcoming marriage.

One thing is for certain, when we practice selfless service in our selfie-centered world, people take notice. They may not fully understand–they may even think we’re weird–but they will probably ask questions, which will open the doors for up to explain to them about the Jesus that we follow. He “did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many.” (Mark 10:45)

That’s our calling as well, whether in marriage or just in life in general: to follow in the footsteps of Jesus, to love as He loved and to serve as He served, even when the world doesn’t always get it. I pray that each of our lives reflect the servant’s heart of our Master this week, as we serve Him by serving others.

I do hope you’ve had an opportunity to serve someone this week in the name of Jesus.  I am praying for you, and I look forward to seeing you Sunday. 

–Pastor Ken

A Revolution of the Soul

We all need a Copernican revolution of the soul.

You may remember the name Nicolaus Copernicus from middle school science classes. He lived during the Renaissance in the late 15th and early 16th centuries in Prussia (modern day Poland) and was educated in canon law. He was also a mathematician, astronomer, physician, economist and even a governor. 

Copernicus is mainly known for a model of the universe he formulated that placed the sun rather than the earth at the center of the universe. We assume its truth in our modern day world, but such a theory was pretty radical in his day. His publication of that model in 1543 was a major event in the history of science and triggered what is called the “Copernican Revolution.”

What’s that got to do with the soul? I’m glad you asked.

One of the hardest discoveries for all of us is that we are not the center of the universe. From the time we are born, somehow we get the idea that the world revolves around us. But one day, reality kicks in and we realize that is not the case. As Rick Warren states in the opening words of his best-selling book The Purpose Driven Life: “It’s not about you.”

The Psalmist reminded us that “the fool says in his heart that there is no God.” As John Ortberg points out, perhaps the bigger fool is the one who looks in the mirror and says, “There is a god!” for the oldest temptation is that we “will be like God.” But we must all let go of the false god that is me.

Of course none of us would ever claim to be a god, but sometimes we act like we’re the ones in charge, like we are the axis around which the world spins. All of us must at some point come to grips with this important truth: There is a God, and I’m not him.

As hard as it may be for our stubborn wills to grasp, one of the most freeing things any of us can ever do is surrender our lives to the God who is the center of the universe, the Creator of the very heavens and the earth. It takes the pressure off when you realize you don’t have to keep the planet spinning, and that everything does not depend on you.
This is a Copernican revolution of the soul.

So exhale. Take a load off. Realize it’s not about you, that you’re not in control now nor were you ever intended to be. But the good news is that you can have a relationship with the God who is in charge, and He can be trusted. And even better, He loves you more than you could ever imagine.

May He bless you this week as you put Him first in your life. I am praying for you, as I hope you are for me, and I look forward to seeing you Sunday. 

–Pastor Ken

Let It Shine!

Since my wife is at the beach for the ladies retreat, where I’m sure they won’t have internet and she won’t be able to read this, I’ll let you in on a little family drama. We have been having some family discord of late, but gratefully she took steps of repentance this week before she left. I am so relieved.

It all started when she picked up a couple of fashionable lamps for our bedroom, at a thrift store I think. I wasn’t sure what had been wrong with the lamps we already had, and didn’t really pay much attention to the new lamps. That is, until I realized after a while that I couldn’t see to read at night from the light coming from the lamp on the night stand next to my bed. Then I noticed, the lampshades were so dark, they were not allowing any light to come through them.

I remember learning in school of the three categories of material that allow light to come through them: transparent, translucent and opaque.  I will readily say I am no lampshade expert, but I would think that ideally, a lampshade would be transparent, or at worst translucent–so that at least some light could get through. But the shades on our lamps were clearly opaque. That’s not a shade, that’s a barrier. And it kind of defeats the point of having a light to begin with.

Now, I don’t see so well anyway these days, in my old age, so I surely don’t need any other hindrances to being able to see to read. And I lovingly brought this up to my dear wife, who suggested that the lampshades looked very nice. And I will have to admit, they were very classy and stylish, and I’m sure they impress everyone who comes into our bedroom, though I’m pretty sure that’s a fairly small group of people.

So after much weeping and gnashing of teeth–by me–we set out on a quest to find some new lampshades that fit those lamps. The problem is, apparently the lampshade industry these days is much more concerned with looks than utilitarian usefulness. So there’s a whole world of dark lampshades out there that block out lights.
Before she left this week, my bride finally found some white lampshades that let the light through them. They are not real attractive, but they do the trick. I can see again, which makes reading much easier. And all is happy in our home again. Which brings me to the point of this little missive–and yes, there is a point.

Let me illustrate that point with a line from a popular children’s song, that I have been singing to my wife just about every time the lamp discussion has come up: “Hide it under a bushel? NO!…I’m gonna let it shine!”

Of course, you probably know those lyrics from the song “This Little Light of Mine,” and the whole subject of the song is a reference to Jesus’ teaching in the sermon on the mount, where He told His followers, “You are the light of the world.”

He illustrated the point with basic logic: “A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.” (Matthew 5:14-16)

It would be absurd, Jesus was saying, to light a lamp and then cover it up with a basket, or bushel (or opaque lampshade). And so it is pretty silly that we who are the light of the world would not be shining His light to all those around us who are stumbling around in the darkness.

So I have to ask:  Whose world are you lighting up for Jesus this week? Are you letting your light shine before men so that, seeing your life, they glorify the Father? Or are you living a “shady” life that keeps people from seeing Jesus? Don’t cover it up any more: let it shine, let it shine, let it shine!

Have a blessed weekend. I look forward to seeing you Sunday. 

–Pastor Ken

He Lives!

A man went for a job interview, and during the process of the questioning, the interviewer asked, “If you could have dinner with any person, living or dead, who would it be?”  The applicant replied, “The living one.” 

I doubt he got the job, but I do understand his point. Given the choice between a living dinner guest and a dead one, I think the living one wins every time. 

As Easter Sunday approaches, I think it’s still a good time to reflect on the question: “If you could have a relationship with someone who you considered Lord of your life, living or dead, who would it be?” I recommend going with the living one. And, in case you missed the memo, Jesus is still alive! 

Easter is what separates Christianity from all the world religions. Mohammed? Dead.  Buddha? Dead. Abraham? Dead. Any other religious leader or so-called prophet who has come and gone? Dead. But Jesus Christ conquered death and the grave, and He lives. 

I read an account of a Presbyterian pastor named Alfred Ackley who had been trying to win a young Jewish man to Christ back in 1933. The young  man’s startling question–“Why should I worship a dead Jew?”–brought forth an immediate reply from Ackley: “He lives.”  

Later, when he was reflecting upon that discussion, and his simple, yet profound answer, he penned these words that would become a famous hymn: 

I serve a risen Savior, He’s in the world today,

I know that He is living, whatever men may say.

I see His hand of mercy, I hear His voice of cheer,

And just the time I need Him, He’s always near.

He lives, He lives, Christ Jesus lives today,

He walks with me, He talks with me,

Along life’s narrow way.

He lives, He lives, salvation to impart,

You ask me how I know He lives:

He lives within my heart.  

I pray that Jesus Christ lives in your heart as well today, and all around see that He is alive through the life you live for Him.  He is risen!  I look forward to seeing you Sunday. 

–Pastor Ken

Black Holes…and a God We Can Trust

The headlines earlier this week announced the news with great excitement: the first photo of a black hole had been revealed by astrophysicists at a press conference in Washington, D.C. I know it’s a big deal in the world of astronomy, but I saw the photo and wasn’t that impressed. My first thought was that it was maybe taken with an iPhone 6. I will have to say, though, that I’ve had a hankering for a doughnut ever since I saw the photo.

In actuality, two years ago this month, scientists used a global network of telescopes to see and capture the first-ever image of a black hole, according to the announcement by researchers at the National Science Foundation on Wednesday. They captured a picture of what they called a “supermassive” black hole and its shadow at the center of a galaxy known as M87, nearly 55 million light-years from Earth. They also tell us that the black hole itself has a mass that is 6.5 billion times that of our sun.

“We have seen what we thought was unseeable,” announced Sheperd Doeleman, an astrophysicist at the Harvard-Smithsonian Center for Astrophysics and director of the Event Horizon Telescope Collaboration.

“We’ve been studying black holes so long, sometimes it’s easy to forget that none of us have actually seen one,” France Córdova, director of the National Science Foundation, said in the news conference. Seeing one “is a Herculean task,” she said.

I feel better, because up until this point I hadn’t seen one either. That’s because black holes are notoriously hard to see. Their gravity is so extreme that nothing, not even light, can escape across the boundary at a black hole’s edge.

Of course, if you are a fan of Star Trek you already knew all you needed to know about black holes, even if you’d never had the opportunity of seeing one. Roughly speaking, a black hole is a spot in the vastness of space which astronomers tell us acts like a giant vacuum or whirlpool sucking everything around it into the hole. 

Up until recent years, the only black holes that had been found were in galaxies millions of light years away from the earth, like the one we saw this week which had been photographed. But about a decade ago astronomers made the startling announcement that a black hole had been found nearby in our own galaxy, the Milky Way.

Headlines proclaimed that inevitably our sun and all the planets around it–including earth–will be sucked right into it and everything will be gone. Uh oh.

Does that news bother you? Does it scare you just a little bit? Personally, I have mixed emotions. First of all it explains some things. Now I know where all those socks that never returned from our dryer have been going. And maybe this explains what happens to our keys or remote control when they seem to constantly disappear. 

But think about it. If someday we’re going to be sucked up into this black hole, what’s the point of all of this stuff we do anyway? Why bother, if the end is coming, and our destruction is inevitable? 

Let me suggest that what you believe about the future, and where your hope ultimately lies, will greatly determine how you live until the end comes. Whether those astronomical events will actually occur I can’t tell you. But I do know that there is a Creator of the heavens and earth–and black holes too–“who is over all and through all and in all” (Eph. 4:6).  And He has proven, time and time again, that He can be trusted. 

So I will rest well tonight, knowing that my future doesn’t depend on a random event from a galaxy near or far, but it rests in the hands of a loving God, who has already shown how much I matter to Him, by the sacrifice He made for me when He sent Jesus to die for me. We are especially reminded of that during this season, and as we gather to worship for Palm Sunday this week. 

“Cast all your cares on Him,” the apostle Peter wrote, “because He cares for you.” (1 Peter 5:7). That’s enough for me, even if there’s a black hole looming in my future. How about you? 

I am praying for you, and I look forward to seeing you on Sunday. 

 –Pastor Ken

The Rest of Your Life

A skydiving instructor was going through the question and answer period with his new students when one of them asked the usual question always asked: “If our ‘chute doesn’t open, and the reserve doesn’t open, how long would we have till we hit the ground?” The jump master looked at him and in perfect deadpan answered: “The rest of your life.” 

Each one of us could probably ask that question in one form or another. The reality is, none of us knows when our “chute” will fail, and our time on earth will come to an end. But we do know what we have left: the rest of our lives.

So the big question is, what are you doing with the rest of your life? I remember talking to someone several years back who was consumed with his job, and he said, with the best of motives I think, that he wanted to spend the first half of his life making a lot of money so he could retire early and spend the second half giving it all away. My question to him was, how do you know when you reach half-time?

The psalmist said it this way: “Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.” (Psalm 90:12) In other words, since we can’t count our days, we need to make our days count. We must start doing what we want to do with our lives now, since this is the only “rest of our lives” we’ll ever have.

So, what is is that you plan to do “one of these days”? Spend more time with your family? Now’s the time. Get in shape? Why wait? It’ll never get any easier. Walk with God on a deeper, more consistent level?  Don’t put off a blessing you’ll never regret.

You do realize that you have never been closer to the end of your life than now, don’t you? I just wanted to encourage you with that. Since your time is running out, it’s time to get on with it and become that person you’ve always wanted to be. As George Eliot once said, “It’s never too late to be what you might have been.”

Have a blessed rest of your life! I’ll see you Sunday.

–Pastor Ken

Here’s the Church

Here’s the church,

Here’s the steeple,

Open the doors,

And here’s all the people.

You probably remember that little nursery rhyme from when you were a kid, complete with folded hands, intertwined fingers, and finally after the doors are opened, the revealed punchline of all those finger-people in the middle. It was cute, it was catchy, it was memorable, it promoted digital dexterity in kids, and it encouraged children to be in their place, “in the church.”

The only problem was, it was bad theology.

The church is not a place, it’s a people. When we say “here’s the church” and then make a little building with our hands, we are warping the concept and definition of church as Scripture defines it into an edifice made by hands–in this case, literally. Of course, there’s also the alternative ending, with fingers folded outward instead of inward, revealing at the end an empty church, and the question, “And where’s all the people?”

Either way, it twists our understanding of what “church” is, starting at an early age. The Bible is clear that the church is made up of people, not of bricks and mortar–or even walls and steeples made of fingers. It ruins the poem, I understand, but it is helpful for us to know what we’re dealing with when we talk about the “church” of Jesus Christ. And though for some it may just seem like semantics, it is more than that. How we see church will determine how we interact as a part of it.

For the record, it was the 4th century A.D. before there was anything resembling a “church building.” People gathered “house to house,” as the book of Acts describes it (on multiple occasions), and wherever else they could find a place to meet. But the early church would have found it absurd to use the word “church” to describe a building.

I think a good analogy would be the word “family.” We know what that is, and it is never confused with the house or home where the family lives. We may say we are going home to family for the holidays, and mean a certain house where the family lives, but we would never point to a house and say, “That’s my family.” That would be ridiculous. 

But it is no more ridiculous than referring to the “ekklesia”–the ones who are called out–as a building instead of the family of God.

You see this regularly, when a tornado or fire destroys a church building, and they interview the pastor on the local news hear where their beloved building once stood. He inevitably says, pointing to the pile or rubble or smoldering ruins, “this is not the church, this is just a building.” And he would be right. But it shouldn’t take a tragedy for us to get that right.

One of the applications from this past Sunday’s message was that Jesus extended the definition of family beyond blood relatives to those who were united through a common relationship with Christ. And that is still true. That is what church is. We are a family of faith, a community of interdependent believers knit together through our union with Jesus.

I realize that wiggling our fingers and saying, “Here’s the church,” and then folding our hands together to say, “and here’s the building they gather in,” makes for an awkward poem, but it’s much closer to the truth than what many of us learned as kids. 

Whether The Church of Shelby Crossings gathers in rented warehouses, or whether we one day meet to worship together in a beautiful building with stained glass and a pointed top, it is vital to our identity and our mission to always remember that “this is not the church, this is just a building.” Here‘s the church: we are family.

I’m sure glad to be a part of this faith family with each of you. I’m praying for you, and I look forward to seeing you on Sunday.

–Pastor Ken

Spring Break

You can tell by the ridiculous traffic on I-65 each weekend that it’s Spring Break time. I know for local students, the week ahead is the one you have been looking forward to, but for those “up north” who make their trek down south to our beaches and clog up our roads, it seems that spring breaks go on for more than a month.

I have watched many people on social media counting down the days till spring break arrives here. I can’t say that I blame them. All of us need a break every now and then, even if takes a bad back to get us to take one. But that’s another story.

Of course, there’s another side of getting a break. That is, getting broken

 It seems that no one ever wants to be broken, though it’s a common theme biblically, and a wonderful virtue that we even sing about in many of our contemporary worship songs. But most often it’s something we’d rather sing about than experience first-hand. 

Interestingly, the word “broken” occurs 28 times in the book of Jeremiah, and three more time in the book of Lamentations (which Jeremiah authored). The weeping prophet, as Jeremiah was called, was a man whose heart was broken by the sins of his people and the tragedies of his times. It’s not hard to feel his sadness sometimes when he writes things like: “Why did I come forth from the womb to see labor and sorrow?” (Jer. 20:18).

 Would Jeremiah have avoided the brokenness he experienced had he been given the option? I think he probably would have. Most of us would do likewise. But I’m not sure we should miss the opportunities of the “breaks” that come in our lives, that lead us into brokenness. Even if they are painful.

Just think of how greatly God used Jeremiah despite–or even, because of–his broken heart. He drew people to God in his own day, he prophesied the return of Israel from exile in future days, and his book has been ministering to the world for more than twenty-six centuries. 

So too, God used difficult times in the lives of so many of the great leaders in the Bible. It was through their brokenness that He was honored most.

I was reading a familiar passage this week in my devotional time, in the first chapter of his second letter to the church at Corinth. There the apostle Paul used an interesting play on words to write about God’s comfort for us. He said that the God of all comfort is able to comfort others with the comfort with which He comforts us in broken times (2 Cor. 1:3-7). In other words, He comforts us, when life gets uncomfortable.

We can’t always avoid broken hearts, broken relationships and even broken promises. The truth is, for whatever reason in His providence, God doesn’t want us to avoid those things. He wants instead to use them to “break” us of our tendency toward self-sufficiency and increase our faith and dependence on Him. Even if it’s hard. And most often, it is.

When our brokenness is laid at the feet of Jesus, He can use our shattered circumstances to draw others to Himself, and we can rejoice in spite of our pain. After all, Jesus was broken and spilled out for us.

My prayer for each of us this spring break is that God would continue to break us, to mold us, and to teach us to trust Him as our full sufficiency. He is enough.

May He bless you richly, even in difficult times. I’m praying for you, as I hope you are for me, and I look forward to seeing you on Sunday.  

–Pastor Ken

The Main Thing

When I left the world of college athletics to enter ministry more than three decades ago, my home church pastor told me something I have never forgotten. We were preparing to move away to Texas to begin seminary, and he said his one piece of advice to me was this: “The main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing.”

A few years later author Steven Covey popularized that expression in his best-selling book The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, but I will always remember where I heard it first. And the context of that advice was that as I entered vocational ministry, I should never forget that my purpose, my calling–“the main thing”–was to make disciples for Jesus Christ.

The truth is, all of us who are followers of Christ have the same mission–our Co-Mission with Jesus actually–which is to make disciples. When you give your life to follow Jesus, you are signing on with His mission. That’s not new information, but it is a helpful reminder to keep us focused on why we are here. 

So how do we keep the main thing the main thing?  How do we live our lives in such a way so that we intentionally reach out to our community with the gospel and disciple them to Christian maturity? Every church asks those questions, or at least they should. But the answers we come up with are not always the same. 

Some use the internet, and specifically social media, to try to communicate with the masses. Others use mass mailings or advertising to try to reach people. Still others host big events to attract attention from their community, and may even resort to gimmicks to try to draw a crowd. You will probably see some of those in the next month as Easter approaches. 

There’s nothing wrong with any of those approaches to outreach, but they don’t make disciples. When Jesus gave the Great Commission to His disciples before He ascended to the Father–“go into all the world and make disciples”–He expected them to follow the model He had lived before them for more than three years. His strategy for disciple-making always involved relationships.

So, the key to making disciples is…disciples being disciples, and thus being disciple-makers. The key to reaching people is…people, like you and me, who live among our neighbors, love on them in the name of Jesus, and share a life-changing message they desperately need to hear. That’s keeping the main thing the main thing.

 In his book, Leading Beyond the Walls, pastor Adam Hamilton says that every church will flounder if it does not wrestle with and answer these three questions: 

Why do people need Jesus Christ?

Why do people need the church?

Why do people need this church? 

The answers to those questions are not that complex, really. People need Jesus Christ because only in Him can be found the answers to the most serious problems that we all face–ultimately salvation from sin’s curse, and the gift of eternal life with the Father.

People need the church because God created us to live in community and fellowship with other Christ-followers and to be the “body of Christ” to one another. We are born with a need to belong. 

But, why do people need The Church at Shelby Crossings?  Well, I’ll let you answer that.  And when you determine the answer, be sure to share it with an unchurched friend. 

I’m praying for you, as you live your life “on mission” this week, and I look forward to seeing you Sunday. 

–Pastor Ken