After thoughtful consideration, key representatives of Church leadership have made a unanimous decision that no church programming will take place on our physical premises this Sunday. This decision was made due to safety concerns related to the current condition of the exterior of our buildings, entrances and exits, combined with recent and anticipated weather events.
Instead, we’ll gather via Zoom at 11 a.m. during the worship hour.
We understand this change may come as a surprise, especially since we’ve been accustomed to using our livestream in similar situations. However, this Sunday will look a little different as we gather on Zoom for a more personal and interactive experience.
Here’s what to expect:
11 am – 11:10 am: A brief formal gathering to center us for the morning.
11:15 am – 12:00 pm Breakout Rooms: After the formal gathering, you’ll have the opportunity to join one of three breakout rooms
Rooms 1 & 2: Guided Conversation on Baptism: Judy Fiske and Sterling Severns will invite reflection and discussion on the significance of baptism in our lives.
Room 3: Epiphany Star WordsLed by April Kennedy, this room is for those who didn’t receive an Epiphany Star Word last week or would like to reflect on their word more deeply. You’re welcome to linger and join in a conversation about the significance of these words and how they’ve offered guidance and meaning in the past.
We appreciate your understanding, flexibility, and grace as we prioritize the safety and well-being of our community. We look forward to seeing your faces on Zoom this Sunday as we gather in a new and meaningful way.
Grace and peace,
Sterling, Judy, April, and Vincent (Staff), Jessica C. (Administrative Board Chair), John G. (Deacon Representative), Donna S. (Chair of Building and Grounds)
There were no suggestions for changes to the FY 2024-25 Budget so you may now vote on the budget. Voting opens on June 14, and will end on June 26, 2024. Major financial expenditures like these budgets require at least 50 votes. Click here for a copy of the TBC Budget.
Click Here to vote electronically. Paper Ballots will also be available in the back of the Sanctuary.
Please remember, you need to be a member of TBC to vote and you may only vote once.
Over the course of these last two months, we’ve seen God at work specifically through: – the deepening of relationships – growing unity among leadership – the offering and receiving of caregiving in our fellowship – and the blessing of renewed hope
The list below offers a roadmap of opportunities for us to continue to gather, serve, and grow together. As it relates to your participation, we encourage you to pray for God’s guidance in your faithful “yeses” and “nos” alike. Which of these events might offer you the most joy and/or sustenance in the season ahead? Are there a handful of events God might be calling you to prioritize? Which events do you need to skip in order to be faithful to a calling God has already placed on your heart? Let’s commit to remain open to the holy nudges and assume the best in one another’s decision-making.
Every time two or more are gathered, God brings opportunity for thriving and growth in community. You are a blessing to those of us that have found a home at Tabernacle and a key part of the unfolding blessing we are called to be in the larger community. Steady on, Church……steady on!
OCTOBER
Saturday, October 21 – Community Ministry Saturday, October 28 – Leadership Retreat with Mark Tidsworth (consultant) Sunday, October 29 – Congregational Meeting with Mark Tidsworth (consultant), Sunday, October 29 – 8:00-8:30 PM – Way S’nah Htoo’s Baptism Service
NOVEMBER
Saturday, November 4 – Community Ministry Saturday, November 4 – B&G meeting with Carson Dean (consultant) Saturday, November 4 – Remember to move clock back an hour prior to going to bed (Daylight Saving Time ends) Sunday, November 5 – All Saints Sunday Sunday, November 5 – Quarterly Business Meeting (after worship), including initial report from B&G’s work with consultant. November 10-12 Youth Group to CBF Virginia Retreat at Eagle Eyrie Sunday, November 12 – Informal Fellowship on the church portico (after worship) Sunday November 12 – TBC hosting Rachel Pierce’s Ordination Service (3 p.m) Monday November 13 – Book Club Discussion on “Caste” by Isabell Wilkerson Monday, Nov. 13 – 15 – Annual BGAV General Assembly Meeting at Bon Air Baptist Church Saturday, November 18 – Community Ministry Sunday, November 19 – Church-wide breakfast in the Fellowship Hall November 20 – 24 – Mission Team to Metro Baptist Church, NY Tuesday, November 21 – Tabernacle and Pine Street Baptist Churches join FBC Richmond for a Thanksgiving Dinner and Worship Service
DECEMBER
Saturday, December 2- Community Ministry Sunday, December 3 – First Sunday of Advent Sunday, December 10 – Children & Youth Christmas Parties Thursday, December 14- TCCC Christmas Pageant Friday, December 15 – packing of Christmas baskets Saturday, December 16 – Christmas Basket Ministry (morning) + Bruton Parish Concert in Williamsburg (evening) Sunday, December 17 – Sanctuary Choir will share their Bruton Parish Concert Music during worship. Following worship, we will celebrate with Terry Witt, as she is retiring from the staff after 25 years of service, in the Fellowship Hall Sunday, Decembber 17 – Voting for the TCCC Assistant Director closes at 2 PM. Sunday, December 17 – Annual Christmas in the Fan Concert Sunday, December 24 – Christmas Eve Service
SUMMER 2024
June 12-15 – Older Children to Passport Kids Camp June 30 to July 5 – Youth Group to Passport Choices at Converse College
Stay Posted: Details each of these events will be shared in the upcoming weeks, via TabWeekly, the webpage, and church calendar.
A word of encouragement to those (re)building, (re)viving, (re)missioning, and (re)forming institutions
All humans long for stability. Throughout time, Societies have built structures to protect stability. Call it covid, call it chaos, there’s been a whole lotta shakin’ goin’ on. Rigid structures don’t tend to fare well when the ground starts shaking. No structure is meant to last forever and yet when history circles back around we’re surprised by its arrival. Anything we carve or build out of rock, bricks, steel, or glass, eventually falls. Travel to Greece, Rome, the site of the former World Trade Center in NYC, or, (dare I say it) down a long stretch of Monument Avenue in Richmond, Va, historical structures eventually and always buckle under the pressure of the passage of time.
Most any group of people that find themselves finally tasting the “good life” naturally want to build a structure that can maintain, expand, and protect that way of life (aka stability). Think about the destructive cycles that spin chaos into the world from there. If building, maintaining, expanding, and protecting our “good life” requires the diminishing, disqualifying or destruction of the lives of others, expect chaos and prepare to choke on the dust of fallen idols, fortresses, and structures.
I believe God is refashioning us, not only out of the dust of our fallen idols, fortresses, and structures, but also out of the dust being stirred up by the beautiful feet of those walking beside “God with Us”
There’s a moment in the Bible when the disciples of Jesus find themselves awestruck by the Temple structure,“Look, Teacher, what wonderful stones and what a wonderful structure!” Jesus responds, “Do you see these great buildings? There will not be left here one stone upon another that will not be thrown down.” The temple is supposed to be the most stable place on earth, the one place where God’s finger touches the world, therefore the one place chaos can’t possibly exist.
Later in the story, those that arrested Jesus justify their actions based on the audacity of Jesus bringing chaos, the equivalent of kryptonite, into the temple. He doesn’t help his case when he predicts the temple’s destruction or in claiming he will rebuild the temple in three days. To add insult to injury, he claims the new Temple won’t be confined by geography or any other lines we might draw in the sand. No-one-corner of the world will be able to claim this One as their own. This One, is meant to travel. This One is a throwback to the original design. Anyone with institutional memory might call him “Tabernacle”, but most of his followers call him Savior.
Church, I know we’re all longing for stability, it’s natural to do so, especially in our grieving. I want you to know that I join you in deep grieving. So much more, I want you to know that we worship a God that brings order out of Chaos.
Any version of life, built upon a structure that diminishes the potential for thriving in the lives of others, cannot be attributed to the goodness of God.
YHWH didn’t fashion us out of metaphorical dust, breathe air into our lungs, and put us on our feet, only for us to create our own versions of the “good life”. Any version of life, built upon a structure that diminishes the potential for thriving in the lives of others, cannot be attributed to the goodness of God. Any version of the “good life” that leads someone into isolation, separation, or even relational annihilation is a cheap counterfeit. God is good…all of the time. The good life Christ offers is the real deal….the Way, the Truth, and The Life. Walk in the knowledge that we follow a Savior that can take all of the fallenness, brokenness, and complexities of the stories of the past and present, all of the unintentional chaos we’ve unleashed into the world, and somehow bring profound goodness through it. Know that God can, and will, make ALL things for good.
As we move out of this global pandemic, it will be critical for us to understand that it’s not our job to rebuild our temples. God already did that, three days after his son was crucified. The news gets even better. The resurrected Savior is inviting us to tabernacle with him right smack into the middle of the chaos. He’s inviting us to join the search party for those who have stumbled into, or were pushed into, lostness and loneliness. He’s inviting us to join him in the reclamation of the abandoned, to participate in the healing of the brokenhearted, and even in the resuscitation of the hearts of the presumed “righteous”.
In this very moment, I believe God is refashioning us, not only out of the dust of our fallen idols, fortresses, and structures, but also out of the dust being stirred up by the beautiful feet of those walking beside “God with Us”. It’s an invitation to breathe again. It’s an invitation to life again. It’s the invitation of a lifetime!
Rev. Sterling W. Severns, Pastor
This is an adaptation of something first written in January 2022.
To those who gave birth this year to their first child — we celebrate with you
To those who lost a child this year–we mourn with you
To those who are in the trenches with little ones every day and wear the badge of food stain–we appreciate you
To those who experienced loss through miscarriage, failed adoptions, or running away—we mourn with you
To those who walk the hard path of infertility, fraught with pokes, prods, tears, and disappointment—we walk with you. Forgive us when we say foolish things. We don’t mean to make this harder than it is
To those who are foster moms, mentor moms, and spiritual moms–we need you
To those who have warm and close relationships with your children–we celebrate with you
To those who have disappointment, heart ache, and distance with your children–we sit with you
To those who lost their mothers this year–we grieve with you
To those who experienced abuse at the hands of your own mother–we acknowledge your experience
To those who lived through driving tests, medical tests, and the overall testing of motherhood–we are better for having you in our midst
To those who have had abortions–we remember you on this day
To those who are single and long to be married and mothering your own children–we mourn that life has not turned out the way you longed for it to be
To those who stepparent–we walk with you on these complex paths
To those who envisioned lavishing love on grandchildren, yet that dream is not to be–we grieve with you
To those who will have emptier nests in the upcoming year–we grieve and rejoice with you
To those who placed children up for adoption–we commend you for your selflessness and remember how you hold that child in your heart
And to those who are pregnant with new life, both expected and surprising–we anticipate with you
This Mother’s Day, we walk with you. Mothering is not for the faint of heart and we have real warriors in our midst. We remember you.
Written by Amy Young
*** CONNECTION CARD:Click here to let us know you were present with us in worship, to ask a question, or share a prayer concern.
IT’S TRANSFIGURATION SUNDAY! FEB 19 @ 11 AM (EST)We hope you’ll make plans to join us for this morning’s worship service. We will conclude the season of light celebrating the Transfiguration of Jesus. We will conclude the worship service in a circle of candlelight, turning our attention to the Lenten journey ahead.
FOR THOSE PARTICIPATING IN THE VIRTUAL ACRE:
During the invitation hymn, those participating virtually will be encouraged to log out of the livestream AND immediately log into the zoom link below. This will allow our virtual participants, each holding candles, to be visually seen alongside those in the physical sanctuary. It only would make sense to do this if you’re comfortable turning on your zoom camera to be seen in the circle of candlelight. If you’d rather not be seen, it’s best to just stay in the livestream.
IF YOU’D LIKE TO BE SEEN IN THE CIRCLE OF CANDLELIGHT….
In decades past, previous generations at Tabernacle set aside time, often full weeks or weekends, to come together purposefully and expectantly. Long ago, these gatherings were called revivals and more recently spiritual renewal weekends.
Though the format of those gatherings have changed, the longings and expectations of each generation, including our generation, have not wavered. For almost 150 years our local congregation has come together, often in our most vulnerable chapters of communal life, to express our yearning for revival, to pray for inspirited vision, to petition God to give us unity in the (re)discovery of purpose and call.
The weekend of January 13-15, 2023, our generation will come together, in both the physical church building and in our virtual acre. Mark Tidsworth, our facilitator, will help us explore the challenges and opportunities standing before the Universal Church and guide our local church in prayerful discernment/dialogue.
We will introduce three questions as an invitation into discernment.
What might God do, in and through us, if we were to shift away from __________________ and move toward _________________?
member identity to disciple identity
attractional to missional church
consumer culture to sacred partnering
On Friday night, Mark will provide a format we’ll use for capturing our insights and we’ll continue to gather and glean throughout the entire weekend. This, plus the insights generated during multiple small group discussions, will be funneled to church leadership after this weekend. In turn, the leaders will determine how we can effectively continue to discern together as a congregation.
The Holy Spirit is prompting our old church to embrace a new day in this new world we’re all living in and we offer our praise to God for what we’re about to see and hear. Tabernacle, yet again, Christ is on the move, and, yet again, the revived, renewed, and re-missioned Church is called to follow.
————————————————- Retreat Schedule: Friday, January 13 6-9 pm (dinner provided) Saturday, January 14, 9-12 pm 12-12:45 (lunch provided), 12:45 – 3 pm Sunday, January 15, 9 – 10:30 am + worship
Cost: There is no registration fee. However, we do ask that each participant bring a pack of bottled waters or canned beverages + a sweet/salty snack to share.
Childcare: Whereas, we won’t be able to provide a nursery on-site, we can help offset some of the expense of baby sitting in your homes and possibly identify babysitters.
————————————————-
It will be helpful to us if each participating member of your household registers separately. Please REGISTER BY CLICKING HERE.
Tonight’s Zoom Meeting, regarding Fire Protection, has been postponed.
The decision to postpone tonight’s zoom mtg. is based on updated information our lay leadership received this morning. Thanks for your flexibility and also for helping us put the word out to your classes, committees, teams, and small groups.
We’ll reschedule the meeting after we’ve explored the info we’ve just received.
“What would the church look like if everyone in the church used their God-given gifts and talents to equip the rest of the church in such a way that the entire church became more like Jesus?” For if the whole church looked and lived more like Jesus, how much more would our neighborhoods and cities look more like heaven?
– JR Woodard
The Pastoral Staff has been hard at work in preparing to equip the church in this next season of life together. Early this week, we’ll share the details of what the church can expect. This document will serve as a primer in better understanding why we’re beginning “here” and what to expect from each space we’re creating. Our goal is to prompt each one of us to take a deeper step in our walk with Christ; we make the road by walking.
DISCIPLESHIP IS THE GOAL
It’s all about equipping the people of the Church to be more like Jesus in a world that needs the love of Jesus. Christian discipleship is about calling others to join us in practicing a way of life in which we embody (flesh out) the life of Jesus in the context of the world as we journey to fulfill God’s mission together.
Discipleship is a way of life, not an intellectual assimilation of ideas or a program.*
We must deliberately practice discipleship in our daily lives, if we want to disciple others; It’s essential for us to practice what we teach.
Discipleship is about inviting people to become whole again, to become more like Jesus, overcoming destructive habits and building life-giving habits
Discipleship takes place in the street and the sanctuary, the classroom and the living room, its about being “with people” in everyday life
Discipleship happens when we are on mission together, joining God in the renewal of all things.
This report was submitted back in June from Donna and the Building and Grounds Committee. Since it was a large and costly project, we thought for those of you who may have missed it the first time around, we would bring it back to the top of the posts so you can have a chance to read it again.
It’s been an exciting month of activity around our buildings for the month of May and into early June. You may not notice unless you look hard or unless you are spending time in the choir area or Blue Room! The members of the Building & Grounds Committee thought you would like to see just how hard folks have been working for needed repairs and renovations, thanks to our partnerships with local experts. Old World Masonry Restoration, Vassars Services and Jeter Flooring all did an excellent job for us!
To read the full report which includes pictures of the project, click here.
Many thanks to Vincent, Donna and the Building & Grounds Committee.
Our quarterly business meeting will be held this Sunday, July 31 at 2:00 PM. This will be a hybrid meeting. (in person and zoom). The in-person meeting will take place in the Fellowship Hall. Click here to watch a recording of the meeting.
Click here for the Book of Reports for the 3rd Quarter.
This is the budget from the Finance Committee for everyone’s review. Click here to access the budget. There was a zoom call this past Sunday evening at 7 PM for anyone that wanted to ask questions or add input before the Finance Committee submitted the final budget today. If you missed that meeting but would like to view it, click here for the recording of the 7 PM meeting from Sunday, June 5.
The timeline for the budget will be as follows: Beginning June 8 – please review the budget. If you have any questions please reach out to Margaret Ailes, Jim Soyars, or Dan Herman our Finance Committee members.June 22– Online voting begins for the Budget – Click here to vote electronically. June 26- Paper Ballot in Worship and Vote Closes at 3 PM.
We’re anticipating a wonderful season of re-connection and welcome. Now is the time to get ready for company.
TECHIES
Reset a wifi enable deadbolt and connect to TBC wifi.Deadline – February 15
PEOPLE THAT LOVE SORTING AND MATCHING OFFICE SUPPLIES AND/OR ORGANIZING CABINETS
It’s well past time for us to pull everything out of the cabinets in our copy machine room and the supply closet just around the corner. We need 2-3 folks to tackle this. Probably would take a day of working together or two half days? Deadline – February 15
SPREADSHEET PEOPLE…..
* Enter data related to worship attendance over multiple years into a spreadsheet AND create some charts that help us track trends. * Gather some specific content from annual Book of Reports, enter said content into a spreadsheet. Deadline – FEBRUARY 28
PEOPLE THAT LOVE SANDING, PAINTING, and REFINISHING*
We’ve got a small handful of wooden tables and desks that need to get freshened up. No presumptions as to how many you’d knock out. Just let us know what you’re up for and we’ll assume others will do the same. Deadline – FEBRUARY 28
KEY MASTERS…..*
We’re looking for a curious sleuth to go through random keys, attempt to identify matching locks AND/OR label and re-organize our current keys. Deadline – MARCH 1
Interested parties…..please contact pastor@tbcrichmond.org. Sterling will connect you to the appropriate coordinator and we’ll take it from there.
Stay posted as lots of other opportunities will be posted in the week(s) ahead.
We hope you’ll make plans to join us for Dinner Church on Wednesday, January 25. Please note the second iteration of this new ministry model is slightly different from the original:
5:30 – 6 p.m. Early arrivers will help prepare the physical space
6 – 7 p.m. Break break and explore faith (older children – Senior Adult) * Preschool – 1st Grade will eat and participate in a different space.
7 p.m. Parents and children head home. Others may do the same or opt to help clean-up and enjoy unstructured fellowship.
7:15 – 8:15 p.m. Those with a desire to delve deeper into the conversation are invited to gather in the Sanctuary with our pastor.
Hope you’ll make plans to join us on Wednesday, February 1. Please CLICK HERE to RSVP so we can plan for dinner. Please RSVP by 7:00 PM Monday, January 30.
***If you would like to attend and bring your own meal, please feel free to do so.***
The cost for the meal will be $5.00 for adults and $3.00 for children and youth with a maximum of $20 per family. We will accept cash, check (made payable to Tabernacle Baptist Church), scan the QR Code or Credit/Debit card.
We spend years trying to earn love—or at least, something that feels like it. We wear masks, curating versions of ourselves to gain approval. We achieve, perform, shape our identities around what will make us worthy in the eyes of others. But beneath the surface, a quiet fear lingers:
If they see all of me, will I still belong?
Nadeau wrestles with this tension, reflecting on the ways he spent his life trying to secure love: through success, usefulness, becoming exactly what others needed him to be. He thought he understood love. He believed in it. He knew, intellectually, that God loved him. But there’s a difference between knowing something in your head and letting it reshape your heart.
And when the carefully constructed mask—the one that made sure he was respected, sought after, admired—began to crack, a deeper question emerged:
Am I loved, truly loved, apart from what I do, apart from what I present?
He’s not alone in this struggle.
I would imagine the rich young ruler and the woman at the well both carried a weight they could no longer hold. Both were isolated, but from opposite corners—one less obvious than the other.
The ruler approached Jesus full of confidence, certain that he had done everything right. He wanted confirmation, assurance that he was on the right track. Jesus looked at him—loved him—and invited him to be free (Matthew 19:16-22, MSG).
The woman came to the well alone, burdened by her past, expecting nothing but silence. But Jesus saw her completely, naming the truth she thought she had to hide—and inviting her into freedom (John 4:1-26, MSG).
She knew she needed to be free. He didn’t yet realize he was in a self-made cage.
One walked away, unwilling to release the life he had built. The other ran toward her village, proclaiming, “Come and see!”
Maybe the difference wasn’t in how much they had to let go. Maybe it was in how much they were willing to trust that they were already loved.
And that’s the great truth: Jesus knows who we are through and through—even the parts of ourselves we don’t yet acknowledge, even the parts we try to hide from the world. And still, we are fully cherished.
“People change when they are cherished.”
– Gregory Boyle
Not when they impress. Not when they get everything right. Not when they finally become the person they think they’re supposed to be.
We don’t transform by performing. We transform by surrendering to love.
Some of us have known what it is to be lost, only to realize we have been found. Others may still be searching, wondering if they ever will be. The invitation remains the same.
Let yourself be loved.
I Wonder…
I wonder how much of my life has been spent trying to earn love rather than receive it?
I wonder if I have mistaken admiration for belonging?
I wonder what it would feel like to be fully seen and still cherished?
I wonder where I am resisting love?
I wonder how God is inviting me to let go of the mask and step into freedom?
This Reflection is Part of a Lenten Journey
This Lent, we’re making space for something deeper—reading Room for Good Things to Run Wild by Josh Nadeau. No book club, no meetings—just a daily invitation to reflect, in whatever way feels right for you.
These two phrases are unrelenting. For so many of us, they hum beneath the surface, quietly and destructively applying pressure that has shaped far too many of our days. We tighten our grip, clench our jaw, convinced that if we just try harder, hold on a little longer, everything won’t come undone.
How much more of our precious time on this earth will we spend simply trying to hold everything together? As if survival is the goal. As if control is the prize. We convince ourselves it’s working—until the cracks form. Until what we thought was unshakable begins to shift beneath our feet.
“Faith demands renovation. Grace demolishes what will not sustain.”
Josh Nadeau, Room for Good Things to Run Wild
The ground is shifting, and we feel it.
Could it be that grace is already working its way in—not in spite of the cracks, but through them?
Could it be that what feels like falling apart is actually making space for something truer, something more whole?
Beneath all that crumbles, something unshakable remains.
Love remains. Grace remains. God remains.
Perhaps what’s coming undone was never meant to hold us in the first place.
I Wonder…
• I wonder what I’m gripping too tightly that grace is asking me to release?
• I wonder if I’ve mistaken holding it together for actually being whole?
• I wonder how I might recognize grace in the shifting ground beneath me?
• I wonder if the unraveling is actually an invitation?
• I wonder who I’m walking with—and who is walking with me—all the way home?
This Lent, we’re making space for something deeper—reading Room for Good Things to Run Wild by Josh Nadeau. No book club, no meetings—just a daily invitation to reflect, in whatever way feels right for you.
Learn more, access the reading calendar, and join the journey here:
Jesus touches the eyes of the blind man. “What do you see?”
Awakening from darkness, the man rubs his eyes. His pupils attempt to make the adjustment. The people move like trees, blurred and unsteady. He’s exhilarated. He’s confused. His healing isn’t complete. And so Jesus touches him again. The pupils continue to adjust, the dimmer grows brighter, the clarity increases. The healing continues. (Mark 8:22-25)
I wonder what happened next?
What does it look like for someone who has been ignored, ostracized, left to the margins, to step back into the world as someone being made whole? His eyes in a constant state of adjustment, clear one moment and blurred again the next. Continual regeneration of sight to inevitable tears from wounds still in need of healing. The emotional pain that surfaced as he processed years of isolation, the ways his own community, maybe even his own family, had left him unseen.
I wonder if he was aware of the healing still unfolding—not in his eyes, but in his heart.
Healing and forgiveness are two sides of the same coin. It takes time to heal from the wounds others have inflicted. Maybe even longer to heal from the wounds we’ve inflicted on ourselves—and on others.
Nadeau experiences blindness in a different way—the kind that slowly takes hold over time. A loss of wonder. A dulling of love. A heart that, little by little, stopped being able to see.
He didn’t notice when his wonder started dimming—when the world lost its enchantment, when everything around him was reduced to function. What began as chasing understanding turned into stumbling, feeling his way through a world that no longer felt alive. He had spent years trying to grasp truth, trying to make sense of his place in the world, but the more he tried to pin everything down, the less he could see.”I had unwittingly built a world in which only what I could explain was real,” he confesses.
I had unwittingly built a world in which only what I could explain was real.
Josh Nadeau, Room for Good Things to Run Wild
And then, one night, Jesus allowed him to see again.
Sitting on a rooftop in the city, looking out over the skyline, the world widened before him. The same steady voice of unconditional love—the music too often drowned out by the noise—whispered in his ear, “See it with my eyes. What do you see?”
He saw the lights stretching into the distance. He saw how small he was, how vast the world was, how he didn’t have to make sense of everything all at once.
Healing takes time. So does seeing.
We have yet to learn we can’t survive without enchantment and that the loss of it is killing us.
He is being invited to feed wonder. Invited to be startled by beauty again. Invited to notice the holiness hidden in ordinary things.
Not all at once. But slowly. A second touch. A second chance.
______________________________
I Wonder…
I wonder where I’ve let cynicism rob me of joy? I wonder if I’ve mistaken understanding for faith? I wonder what I’ve stopped seeing clearly? I wonder what happens when I stop demanding answers and start receiving? I wonder what I need to step back from so I can see with new eyes? I wonder who I would see if I looked in the mirror and saw myself through the eyes of Jesus?
______________________________
This Reflection is Part of a Lenten Journey
This Lent, we’re making space for something deeper—reading Room for Good Things to Run Wild by Josh Nadeau. No book club, no meetings—just a daily invitation to reflect, in whatever way feels right for you.
But if we aren’t careful, we’ll spend a lifetime working at a misidentified problem. If we think hunger is the problem, we try to eliminate it—starving ourselves of desire, convincing ourselves we don’t need, don’t long, don’t ache.
But the hunger was never the problem. So many of us have spent years numbing ourselves, filling the silence with noise, losing hours to (de)vices. And yet the longing remains. Not because something is missing, but because something real is calling us deeper.
C.S. Lewis called it “inconsolable longing”—a desire too deep for words, too persistent to ignore.
Henri Nouwen spoke of it as restlessness, the ache of a heart that hasn’t yet found its way home.
“Restless is our heart,” St. Augustine wrote, “until it comes to rest in Thee.”
In today’s reading, Nadeau faces his hunger head-on. The moment he stops numbing himself, the ache remains. He’s tempted to believe something is broken in him, that the hunger itself is a flaw.
The hunger isn’t the problem.
You aren’t a problem to be solved.
You are cherished and the longing of your heart is holy.
It’s calling you home.
______________________________________________
I Wonder…
I wonder where I’ve been numbing my hunger instead of listening to it?
I wonder how my desires might actually be leading me toward God?
I wonder where I’ve mistaken apathy for peace?
I wonder what it would look like to be honest about what I truly long for?
I wonder where God is inviting me to rest today?
____________________
This Reflection is Part of a Lenten Journey
This Lent, we’re making space for something deeper—reading Room for Good Things to Run Wild by Josh Nadeau. No book club, no meetings—just a daily invitation to reflect, in whatever way feels right for you.
They settle in, hands resting gently in their laps, seated in a semi-circle.
“I wonder what part of this story is just for you today?”
They lean in.
“I wonder where you see yourself in this story?”
They listen.
“I wonder what happens next?”
They pause.
“I wonder what this story tells us about God?”
The storyteller doesn’t rush to explain. Silence is given room to breathe. The story lingers, settling into their hearts. The invitation isn’t to recite what they’ve learned—it’s to listen, to notice, to wonder.
Maybe, if they sit in the quiet long enough, they’ll hear something deeper. A voice. A presence. A melody playing just beneath the surface.
For years, Godly Play shaped the way we engaged sacred stories with our children, not as lessons to be mastered but as invitations into something deeper.
Jesus once said, “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”Matthew 18:3
“The more I considered Christianity, the more I found that while it had established a rule and order, the chief aim of that order was to give room for good things to run wild.”
— G.K. Chesterton
Somewhere along the way, we stopped playing. We stopped wondering. We started reaching for certainty, mistaking explanations for faith.
Josh Nadeau writes about this too—the slow erosion of wonder. About how, somewhere between childhood and adulthood, the magic goes quiet. The world gets loud, and the hunger for something more gets buried beneath routines, responsibilities, and survival. He confesses how he learned to settle—how he numbed himself rather than risk being awake.
And yet, even after all that, the wonder isn’t gone. It waits. The music has never stopped playing.
So today, let’s not rush to explain or analyze. Let’s sit with the questions. Let’s practice wonder.
I Wonder…
I wonder when I started settling for answers instead of questions?
I wonder what I’ve been avoiding that’s actually an invitation?
I wonder how much of my life has been shaped by fear rather than love?
I wonder where I’ve mistaken certainty for faith?
I wonder what, or who, awaits when I stop running?
I wonder if I’ve mistaken comfort for peace?
I wonder what part of me I’ve lost that God is trying to restore?
I wonder what grace would feel like if I actually let myself receive it?
I wonder what God is doing in the places I least expect?
This Lent, we’re making space for something deeper—reading Room for Good Things to Run Wild by Josh Nadeau. No book club, no meetings—just a daily invitation to reflect, in whatever way feels right for you.
The wilderness has always been part of the journey. The Israelites wandered in it. Jesus was led into it. And again and again, we find ourselves there too.
The wilderness wakes us up to the truth: the things we relied on can no longer hold us. But it’s also where we come undone, where we feel lost, where we grasp for what’s familiar—even if what’s familiar was destroying us.
Nadeau describes his own moment of reckoning—the choice to leave behind what was numbing him, knowing it would force him to face what came next.
“I left the bank so I could stop drinking. But then there was the wilderness.”
It’s one thing to step away from what numbs us. It’s another to face what surfaces in its absence.
Facing Ourselves in the Wilderness
It’s easy to think of wilderness as a single, defined season—forty years for Israel, forty days for Jesus. A moment to endure before moving on.
But if we’re honest, wilderness is never just once.
The Israelites returned to it again and again. The disciples faced it after Jesus’ death. The early church walked through it as they stepped into an unfamiliar world. Wilderness isn’t a detour in the spiritual life—it’s a place we return to.
Lent comes around, year after year—forty days, again and again, pulling us back into the wilderness.
We know this, too.
There’s the wilderness of early adulthood, when we leave behind what’s familiar but don’t yet know who we are. The wilderness of grief, when life no longer makes sense, and we can’t go back to what was. The wilderness of doubt, when the faith we inherited no longer holds, and we’re left searching for something truer. The wilderness of loss, transition, failure—threshold moments between what was and what will be.
Wilderness often marks a threshold. It strips away illusions, leaving us to wrestle with the question: Who am I, really?
The Ache for Home
The wilderness exposes our deepest longing—the ache to be whole, to be at rest, to be at peace.
We spend so much of our lives striving, proving, holding everything together, afraid of what will happen if we stop. But in the wilderness, there is no more hiding. No more distractions. No more escape.
Just the truth of where we are.
And in the stillness, God meets us there.
Again and again, God meets people in the wilderness—Hagar, Jacob, Elijah, the Israelites, the disciples. Again and again, God meets us there. Not once we’ve found our way out, but right there in the middle of it.
And beneath all the striving, beneath all the fear, beneath all the noise—there it is. The longing we’ve been trying to outrun.
“And, oh God, I just want to go Home.”
I Wonder…
I wonder what I’ve been avoiding that the wilderness is trying to show me?
I wonder where I’m resisting change because I fear what comes next?
I wonder if I’ve mistaken control for security?
I wonder how I might recognize growth in my faith as I walk through the wilderness again and again?
I wonder what it would feel like to trust that God meets me here?
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This Reflection is Part of a Lenten Journey
This Lent, we’re making space for something deeper—reading Room for Good Things to Run Wild by Josh Nadeau. No book club, no meetings—just a daily invitation to reflect, in whatever way feels right for you.
Some lessons can only be learned by doing—taking the hits and showing up again anyway.
“This is the path for all of us,” Nadeau writes. “It’s not just boxing; it’s all kinds of things. It’s dancing, it’s painting, it’s plumbing. It’s pregnancy and childbirth. It’s fatherhood. It’s being a true friend. It’s learning that to develop real skill or strength in life, to grow and change, we need to admit our weaknesses and face them.”
We don’t get to skip the hard parts. We don’t get to bypass the struggle. Saints aren’t made by avoiding pain but by pressing into it, by letting it shape us instead of destroy us.
We don’t walk this road alone. We stumble forward together, side by side, sometimes carrying each other, sometimes just keeping pace—reminding one another that nothing, not even this, can separate us from the love that holds us.
“For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
A few years ago, a friend and I were talking about faith—what it means to keep going when so much was unraveling.
His voice got quiet, and he said, “I need elders in my life.”
Something in me opened as he said it—like hearing the faintest notes of a song I’d forgotten. He was naming something I needed, something I longed for.
But what unsettled me most was this: others were looking to me to be an elder.
I was helping usher others through their crisis of identity while in the midst of my own.
Then Came the Wave
The kind that unsettles everything, that pulls you under.
These moments return, stripping away what cannot hold—making space for something deeper.
Failure itself becomes the invitation.
What Holds?
The truth is, anything we build our lives on—self-sufficiency, institutions, even other people—will shift beneath us.
And when it felt like everything was giving way, I wasn’t left with answers.
I was left with silence.
But the silence wasn’t empty.
It held something I had forgotten.
Everyday Saints and Struggling Well
Josh Nadeau writes about heroes—but not in the way we usually think of them.
Not those who have mastered life, but those who have lived it in a way that calls something deeper out of us.
The same is true of how he speaks about saints.
Not distant, untouchable figures, but ordinary people whose lives reveal something holy.
I keep coming back to the idea of struggling well.
Not avoiding hardship. Not numbing it.
But moving through it with faithfulness, with honesty, with an openness to what might be revealed.
This is what elders, sponsors, and everyday saints do.
They don’t hand us easy answers, but they show us what faithfulness looks like in the questions.
And this is why we need them—not just once, but again and again, at every major crossroads.
Sponsors need sponsors. Elders need elders. Disciples need disciples.
Lent Isn’t About Rushing to Transformation
It’s about what happens when the running stops.
It’s about sitting in the silence long enough to realize we are not alone.
It’s about noticing what is real—not forcing change, but allowing something to surface.
It’s about learning not to escape Sheol, but to listen there.
What’s Crumbling—And What’s Being Renewed?
The structures that once upheld the church’s power have crumbled.
And whereas it doesn’t feel very good, that doesn’t mean it isn’t.
The houses of faith we’ve built are crumbling because that’s what happens when we build on what cannot hold.
When we build on power instead of presence, on status instead of faithfulness.
But Jesus builds the church. We make disciples.
And in place of what has fallen, a familiar way is being renewed—one that can withstand the weight of love, truth, and grace (Matthew 7:24-27).
And we don’t find our way alone.
The People Who Show Us the Way
The voices of elders—both living and gone—help lay the foundation.
Cecil and Charlotte are just two among a long line of the great cloud of witnesses, guiding me in ways they’ll never know.
I think of Boyle, Nouwen, Palmer, Brooks, Buechner, Colbert, Lamott, Brown-Taylor, McLaren, Rohr, Friedman, Kaur, Thurman, Willard, Weller, and so many others—voices I encounter in books, in podcasts, in stories passed down. Their wisdom steadies me.
But more than anything, we need people we make eye contact with, people we walk alongside. In their eyes, we see recognition—the quiet knowing of someone who has been here before. We see steadiness, not because they have all the answers, but because they’ve learned they don’t need them.
We see grace. We see the way forward.
And the pattern continues.
Sponsors need sponsors. Elders need elders. Disciples need disciples.
Those who guide us are also being guided.
Those who pour into us are also being poured into.
This is the way wisdom moves, the way faith is formed—not in isolation, but in relationship.
We need those we can trust—who remind us, again and again, that grace is real.
Who are the voices shaping you?
A Question for Reflection
Who are the voices shaping you?
Who are the everyday saints pointing you toward life?
Lent is a season of remembering. A season of learning how to let go, how to be held, how to be raised into something new.
It is not a season of escape, but of transformation.
And somewhere along the way, in the silence, in the stillness, in the presence of those who have walked before me and those who walk alongside me now—
I rediscovered my faith in Jesus.
Maybe we don’t need all the answers.
Maybe we just need to pay attention to those who are showing us the way.
Josh Nadeau describes the slow unraveling of certainty, the moment when the stories we’ve been told no longer seem to hold. The aching sense that something is missing, that we are meant for more—but what? And how do we get there?
Enter hypocrisy. Pretending. Performing. Playing the part we think will get us to transformation. But, as Nadeau writes, “hypocrisy reaps no rewards.” Because deep down, we know. Something isn’t right. Maybe you’ve felt it—the unease of going through the motions, of doing everything “right” but still feeling hollow. Maybe you’ve feared that if you stop pretending, you’ll be left with nothing at all.
But here’s the thing: That ache, the longing, for more is not failure. It’s invitation. An invitation to step out of the scripts we’ve been given. To stop pretending. To wake up. To move forward, out out Sheol (rock bottom).
Jesus once said, “I have come that they may have life, and have it abundantly.”
John 10:10
Not the life of performance. Not the life of pretending. Real life. Lent is a season for naming the ache—for sitting with it, instead of numbing it. It’s a time to be honest, to stop bluffing our way through, and to trust that there is something on the other side of our honesty. What happens when we stop pretending? Maybe, just maybe, that’s where life begins.
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This Reflection is Part of a Lenten Journey
This Lent, we’re making space for something deeper—reading Room for Good Things to Run Wild by Josh Nadeau. No book club, no meetings—just a daily invitation to reflect, in whatever way feels right for you. You can keep your reflections private, or if you feel compelled to share, there will be a few simple ways to do so online.
There comes a point when the running stops—not because we’ve figured things out, but because we’re too exhausted, too exasperated, too worried, to keep going. The distractions don’t work anymore. The noise dies down. The silence overwhelms. And there we are.
I can think of multiple times in my life when I’ve found myself in Sheol—that ancient word for the place of the dead, a place of silence, distance, and unknowing. A place that felt like deep absence. And while I may not know exactly what the psalmist envisioned, I know what it is to feel like I am there. Hitting bottom. The pit. The place where you stare at the ceiling at 2 a.m., wondering how you got here.
And if what those further along on this journey—the everyday saints who have walked this road before—say is true, I have every reason to believe I’ll find myself there again. The same is true for you, just as it has been—and will be—for all of us.
And every reason to believe God will meet us there also.
Josh Nadeau found himself there too. He ran, numbed himself with work, poured another drink, kept busy—until he couldn’t anymore. Then came the silence. First unbearable, then something else. Because somewhere in that silence, he began to hear it—the faint, steady presence of something deeper. The Hidden Music, playing underneath it all.
“The Hidden Music resounds, has resounded, as long as time itself, and longer, whether we have ears to hear it or not.”
– Josh Nadeau
At first, all there is is silence. Silent absence. Sheol. Then, if we sit long enough, if we resist the urge to fill the void—for a moment, for a day, maybe even for a whole season—something shifts. A presence once forgotten. A love we thought we had to chase down, only to realize it had already found us.
And that is where grace begins. Again. And again. And again.
And so, we enter this season—a season of resisting the urge to fill the void. A season of sitting in the silence long enough to hear what has been there all along.
This Lent, we’re making space for something deeper—reading Room for Good Things to Run Wild by Josh Nadeau. No book club, no meetings—just a daily invitation to reflect, in whatever way feels right for you. You can keep your reflections private, or if you feel compelled to share, there will be a few simple ways to do so online.
Learn more, access the reading calendar, and join the journey here:
