One transition that happens as a Church community grows is that the group moves from a single-cell organism to a multicell organization.

When a Church is under 200 people, it is common for someone to stand up and say, “So and So is in the hospital, and they would like everyone to stop by and visit. It would also be great if everyone could send a card.” This is a totally reasonable and valid request. The majority of the community knows this person, and everyone can share their love and concern.

After a Church passes 250 in attendance, the dynamics change. Now, very few people may know this person. Their connection point is not the whole Church; rather, it is their Sunday school class, small group, or ministry team. The Church moves from being one extensive family network with a gathering every Sunday to a group of individual families ranging from 5 to 15 people who care about their immediate connections.

I know the fear, people will jump up and say, “The Church is supposed to care about every single person.” And I would argue that this happens better in a multicell group than in a large gathering. When you connect with that handful of people in authentic relationships, every person in that circle will genuinely show their concern. They will make meals, pay visits, and take care of the people in their group. After all, these are “My People.”

This is a challenging transition to make, and that is why roughly 80% of all Churches have fewer than 200 people. We like the intimate feel and the idea that everyone there cares about us. But if a Church can break through that barrier, the joy of having a handful of people who care deeply is always better than the care given by a large group of people who are mildly concerned about you.

Before you post about our faith online, it’s worth pausing to ask yourselves: Am I actually walking this path? Am I spending time in Scripture, talking with God, giving generously, serving others, worshiping with my church family, building genuine relationships, and maturing in my faith?

God’s kingdom isn’t built on clever posts or inspirational quotes. It takes root in the hearts of those who’ve truly given their lives to Christ and are doing the hard, daily work of following him.

People can distinguish between performance and reality. They may scroll past hypocrisy without a second thought. But authenticity? That stops them in their tracks. That earns their respect. That makes them wonder if this Jesus we talk about might be for them.

Our most powerful testimony isn’t what we post; it’s how we live.

I was a new preacher when I heard John Maxwell say in a leadership lesson, “As a pastor, you need to move with the movers.”

At the time, I didn’t comprehend exactly what he was saying. As a pastor, my heart should be for all the people of the Church I lead. Everyone matters to God, and therefore, they should matter to me. I thought that, under my insightful leadership, I would help every single person grow and become the person God desires them to be. We will all move forward together.

Now, after over thirty years of ministry, I understand what he was saying. Almost unbelievably to me, some people in the Church did not want to grow spiritually; they certainly did not all want to grow numerically, and many were very content to see themselves remain the same, along with their Church family.

Occasionally, someone comes into the Church and is excited to mature as a believer. They genuinely want us to reach people with the gospel, and they have a heart for ministry. These wonderful souls wish for the Church to move forward in faith for the kingdom of God. Whenever those people arrive in a faith community, my job is to link arms with them and move this thing forward.

I still care about every single person who attends worship on Sunday morning, but I move ministry forward with the movers. I connect to the sacred few who want to see God glorified through our community. I spend time with people who desire to grow spiritually. I move with the movers.

If you want to have a closer relationship with your pastor, don’t ask him to slow down and spend time with you; get moving and you can connect as you both move forward together.

The new year is firmly underway. The new calendar is out, the new notebook has started, and I am five days into my Bible reading plan.

God has blessed me with another year to serve him to the best of my ability.

That realization brings feelings of both gratitude and responsibility. Gratitude, because every new year is a gift from God. Responsibility, because time is something we steward, not something we own. The question is never whether God will be faithful in the year ahead; rather, it is: will I be faithful with the days He places in my hands?

I don’t know what this year will hold. There will be joys I can’t yet imagine and challenges I would rather avoid. But I step into this year with confidence, not in my plans or discipline, but in the God who walks with me into every unknown.

So with open hands and a willing heart, let’s roll!

Today is the final day of 2025. It is hard to believe how quickly this year has gone by, and yet it is over. It feels like just yesterday we were stepping into January with fresh calendars and quiet hopes, and now here we are, standing at the final page.

As I look back on the year, I remember days full of you and others that were emotionally heavy. And many of the days were ordinary. The New Testament author James tells us that our lives are like a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes (James 4:14). That truth isn’t meant to make us anxious, but to make us attentive. It invites us to notice God’s presence in the middle of our days, not just at the milestones.

There were moments this year when God’s faithfulness was evident, and moments when I had to lean heavily on faith. There were prayers answered quickly and others that are still waiting. Through it all, God has been kind even when life was not.

And now, as one year ends and another begins, I find myself both grateful and hopeful. Grateful for what God has done, what He has taught, and how He has carried me, my family, and my Church. Hopeful because the same God who was faithful in 2025 will be faithful in 2026.

So tonight, we close the book on the year. Tomorrow, by God’s grace, we turn the page. And whatever the new year holds, we step into it trusting the One who holds our time.

That’s a wrap. Thanks be to God.

Most people set goals for a new year. Some are big and public; others are quiet promises made only to themselves.

Here’s what I’ve noticed: few people include others in their resolutions. Goals often focus on personal growth, such as exercising, losing weight, reading more, praying more, or reading the Bible. Rarely do we commit to helping someone else grow in their faith. Even fewer choose to invest in others’ success.

As followers of Jesus, perhaps a key question to ask as we enter a new year is this: Who are you taking with you? Whose life will be better because you were part of it?

I love to read, but time constraints have reduced the number of books I read each year. Now I also consume podcasts, blog posts, videos, and other articles alongside the books I read.

Still, over the last few years, I have developed techniques to digest 6-12 books a year without much struggle.

First, I have a few books that are structured to read one chapter a week. I have read Mark Moore’s Core 52 and Quest 52. This year, he is releasing Wisdom 52, based on Proverbs. A man named James Merritt also has several books with this format. This coming year, I will be reading the one on Proverbs and also one on the Psalms. These require 15 to 30 minutes a week, and at the end of the year, two more books are completed.

Second, I have a few books that I read a chapter a month. This is really simple: buy a book with a number of chapters divisible by twelve. You can read a 24-chapter theology book simply by reading half of a chapter a week. I pick up one or two of these and finish them by the end of the year.

Third, I select a few audiobooks to listen to on longer drives or when doing certain activities alone. On an eight-hour drive to see my mother, I usually listen to almost half a book. Do this a few times a year, and you’ll have added another 3-6 books to feed your mind.

Finally, I get involved in personal discipleship or a small group. These groups force me to read a chapter a week so that I will be ready for discussion at the next meeting. That leads to another 2-3 books a year.

I am always amazed at the end of the year when I look at the completed reading list and see a dozen or more books. All of them were completed with minimal effort.

If you were to use just one of these, by this time next year, you will have read at least one book to help you know God better. And I believe that is time well spent.

Over the next few days, people will gather to celebrate Christmas with their families, in-laws, and friends. I pray that your holiday season is blessed beyond imagination.

The one thought I carry into the holidays is a variation on a statement I heard years ago. I have given it a Christmas twist, but it still applies.

“People will forget what gift you gave them, but they will remember how you made them feel.”

The most significant thing you can do is to make people feel seen and valued. Putting your phone down, leaning in to listen, asking questions, and being fully present are the greatest gifts you can give anyone.

When this season is over, I hope that people will remember you being in their lives with great joy.

I have often thought about Mary’s mom and dad.

What were they like? Did they believe their daughter? Were they happy for her and Joseph? Were they doting grandparents who ask no questions?

The Bible tells us nothing about Mary’s family background. We have no descriptions of her mother and father to help us draw conclusions about their thinking. We can assume that Mary was raised in a home built on faith. They trained Mary in the teachings of the Old Testament and attempted to live it out, since Mary is so willing to serve God when she is called upon. Any speculation about their life is built on nothing but pure imagination.

Yet this silence itself speaks volumes about God’s story. He chose an ordinary girl from an ordinary family to carry out His most extraordinary plan. Mary’s parents weren’t kings, priests, or prophets whose names needed to be recorded for posterity. They were faithful people who raised their daughter to know and trust God.

Perhaps that’s precisely the point. The Christmas story reminds us that God works through everyday families. He uses parents who teach their children Scripture around the dinner table, who model faithfulness in small moments, who pray ordinary prayers. Mary’s willingness to say “let it be to me according to your word” didn’t spring from nowhere. It was cultivated in a home where faith mattered.

This Christmas, as we celebrate the birth of Jesus, maybe we should pause to thank God for the grandparents and parents whose names we’ll never know. Those faithful men and women who quietly shaped the people God used to change the world. They remind us that our most important legacy isn’t fame or recognition, but raising the next generation to recognize God’s voice when He calls.

I am trying to learn from my mistakes. Each one brings a new life lesson about me, others, and God.

But I do not have to make every mistake. I do not have to live it to learn it.

At the end of the year, it is worth reflecting on all that has happened to you in the previous twelve months. It is also good to assess others’ lives and learn from them.

Experience may be the best teacher, but it doesn’t always have to be your experience.