Classes@ALCF

BY PASTOR SHARON ORTIZ, PASTOR OF EDUCATION

When my oldest son started middle school, his school schedule was different from his elementary-aged siblings for the first time. One day a week, he started at 9:30AM, over an hour later than his siblings. I immediately knew that I had to steward this time well. With him in the precarious developmental age of middle school and being one of three children, and me working from home at the time, I knew this weekly hour was an opportunity to seize and that we may never get again. So, after taking the little ones to school, we picked up McDonald’s breakfast, came back home, and read one chapter of the Bible together. Every week. For a year. We read through Galatians. Then John. Then Acts. We talked about it. We asked questions. We prayed together. And then I took him to school. To this day, it has been my favorite Bible study ever. Of course, there is nothing as inspiring as your love for your child, but this no-frills Bible study ignited something in my soul. 

We live in a day where we are so inundated with information that even the good gets muddled in the noise of it all. Everywhere we turn, there’s a new version, an update, more functions, more apps, more marketing, endorsements, trends to keep up with thrown at us from every angle. Hasn’t this seeped into our spiritual lives as well? We read more books about the Bible than the Bible itself. We hear more sermons from more sources than ever before. The level of production of Christian music and content is the highest it’s ever been. And yet, is your soul that much more satisfied? My guess is that even though many of these things are good, much of it has gotten muddled in the noise of it all. We need to unplug.

With this in mind, I am deeply excited to announce that classes are coming back to ALCF! Let’s read our Bibles together, and let’s keep doing it. Let’s talk about it. Let’s ask questions. Let’s pray together. Then let’s do it again. Let this ordinary act, through ordinary people, by an inspired word and a living Holy Spirit transform our hearts and renew our minds. Our classes will roll out with three main objectives: Biblical literacy, discipleship, and community. We hope to equip you to “know Jesus and make Him known.” Please join us. It might become your favorite hour. 

Welcome to Classes@ALCF. Our classes are offered with three main objectives:

Biblical Literacy. As followers of Christ, we need to learn how to read our Bibles. With our goal to "know Jesus and make Him known," there's no better place to start than with the very words He's given us. Let's learn to study the Word for ourselves, cross reference the text, compare translations, original language, cultural context, and the timeless riches of a living word. When the Holy Spirit illuminates our study, discovering God through his written word is an endless journey. Sermons and teachings are good and necessary, but there is no replacement for the nourishment of our daily bread.

Discipleship. Salvation happens once, but sanctification is for a lifetime--and life on this earth is hard. What does it really look like to live by faith when the going gets tough? How do we remain people of generosity without being pushovers, holy without being legalistic, hopeful without being naive, joyful even in deep grief? What does this look like in my workplace, in my school, in my home, and in my church? It takes intentional growth to fight the good fight. At ALCF, we want to equip you to run this race in such a way to receive the crown of glory.

Community. You never have to do it alone. God designed us to be in community with one another. It doesn't matter if you are an introvert or an extrovert; we are all part of God's body. Everyone brings unique gifts, talents, perspectives, functions that we all need interdependently. My growth depends on yours; your growth depends on mine. I know more of God because of you, and you know more of God because of me. This is the goal of our class settings, and we invite you to be part of this sacred journey as we work out our salvation together.

"Navigating The Pivot: Thoughts On Motherhood"

BY PASTOR SHARON ORTIZ, PASTOR OF EDUCATION

This past Mother’s Day service at ALCF was such a beautiful time and left me “full” long after. We could share thoughts on motherhood forever and still not be able to capture its essence. Some things are beyond our linguistic capabilities and always will be. Still, there are lessons and treasures we can share with one another through our experiences, so here are some musings on motherhood from my own journey. 

Motherhood is a constant pivot. From the little things like a meal that you ran out of ingredients for, or that shower you were looking forward to but never got to take, to a phone call from the school nurse that interrupts and rearranges your whole day; to the bigger things like how the strain of parenting changes the dynamics of your marriage, the suddenly insufficient bank balances, or hopes and dreams of a “normal” life—play dates, little league, school awards, college, marriage and children of their own—that are stolen in a moment by a disability diagnosis; motherhood is a constant pivot. As a planner, things not going as they should is enough to make me feel like a failure. Again, and again. 

Yet these years of constant inconsistency have given me an invaluable gift—that of surrender. Let me tell you, getting upset at every disruption is exhausting. The upset comes because I still want to be in control. When I acknowledge that I am not in control, however, and “ride the wave,” I have discovered some beautiful detours along the way. When I surrender to the detours instead of fighting them, it opens space for me to yield to God and allow Him to navigate not only my life, but my childrens’ lives. That’s what it’s about, isn’t it? That He might increase, and I might decrease. Sometimes He needs to disrupt us to get us there.

As my children get older, they show interest in things I would never have expected. There is surrender in that, too. They are their own, unique people, made in the image of God, not subjects for me to control. Discovering who they are, watching them come into their own—so long as we as parents provide a strong backbone for foundational things—is joy and excitement and wonder. Through my three, wildly different children, I see different facets of my own relationship with the Father. I see places I want to grow, places where I am weak, things in them I admire, and things that I imagine God must want from me as His child. These are the unexpected gifts I collect along this journey of motherhood.

Still, no matter how plentiful the pivots, things need to get done. That is another gift that motherhood has given me: the gift of being an absolute boss. This is one of those places where the world’s economy is completely backwards from God’s economy. The world sees the gap in your resume as a negative space: time where your skills weren’t sharpened or applied, time where you depreciated as an employee in the workforce. Child of God, you never depreciate in God’s economy. You may, for a season, give up your worldly titles for motherhood (or you may not!), but God equips you with a million more skills. These skills are not just “fluff” skills with no use in the real world. No one multitasks like a mother. No one thinks outside the box like a mother. No one burns the midnight oil like a mother. No one manages time like a mother. No one coordinates a calendar like a mother. No one gets things done, no matter what, like a mother. After a decade of being a stay-at-home mom, the Holy Spirit being my personal mentor, I reentered the workforce with more skill and value than before. I have motherhood to thank for that.

These tiresome, mundane, ordinary, chaotically interrupted days of motherhood sure don’t feel glamorous; but they are gloriously dripping with revelation of God, if we have eyes to see and ears to hear. I’m not so inclined to “ride the wave,” naturally, but I would miss out on a whole lot of life if not for its pivots. So, I wish you the gift of pivots today, and the creativity that unleashes. I wish you the gift of your plans falling apart, that they may make room for God’s plans to unfold. I wish you the gift of surrender, that you may trade in control for the ride of a lifetime, as the Lord directs your steps, the Holy Spirit mentors you, and His word lights your path. May your days be guided by Him, and may you be an absolute boss for His kingdom.

"Yes, Jesus Loves Me": My Testimony

BY PASTOR SHARON ORTIZ, PASTOR OF EDUCATION

I was eight years old when I met Jesus personally. I remember that even at a young age, I felt a deep loneliness within. I had a wonderful family—loving parents, the best sister in the world, every material need met—but loneliness was a constant companion. 

I was an immigrant, living in a wealthy, predominantly white community. While I made friends at school, I was aware that they were part of that demographic, while I was not. We happened to attend that school district because it was where the seminary my dad attended was situated. Upon graduating from seminary, my dad planted a church with seven people at our first service. As our church grew, it grew primarily with adults. I have the highest respect for my dad and the work he sowed into the Kingdom, but it meant I didn’t grow up with friends at church. I was jealous of other churches and their youth groups, wondering what it must feel like to have that kind of friendship. I was even jealous of the adults at our now-thriving church and the peer-companionship they had in one another. Perhaps for these reasons, and others which were beyond my comprehension at the time, I remember carrying a loneliness beneath the carefree pretense of childhood. 

It was that very loneliness, however, that drove me to seek God for myself and meet Him in a powerful way. One summer, we attended a Vacation Bible School (VBS) at my cousin’s church. The Holy Spirit was stirring and the worship leader was sensitive to his leading. She invited all of us children down to the altar as we sang the old hymn, Jesus Loves Me This I Know. As we repeated the chorus again and again—”Yes, Jesus loves me. Yes, Jesus loves me”—I wanted to know this love for real. I asked God, “God, if you are real, please show me.” Immediately, I felt what I can only describe as a waterfall of warmth pouring over me continuously, over and over again. It was tangible. It was unearthly. I was undone as I basked in His warm, physical presence and in those glorious words, “Yes. Jesus. Loves. Me.” And I knew from that moment on that God was real. 

I wish I could say that I have never felt lonely again. Quite the opposite is true. Loneliness is probably what the enemy plagues me with the most. But I have since always known that God, and His great love, are real. When I experience moments of loneliness now, it’s a reminder to fall on my knees and draw near to the One who loves me with a perfect love; a love that will never leave me nor forsake me; a love 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 ever be able to separate me from. 

Karl Barth, the great theologian, was once asked if he could summarize the profundity of all his studies. After a brief pause, seemingly taking an inventory of his life’s work, he simply answered, “Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.” I believe it. I have experienced it. I am a result of it. May this simple but profound truth wash over you anew today. May we never lose the wonder of that first moment of salvation. May we always be undone in the timeless revelation: “Yes, Jesus loves me.”

"God’s Romance"

by Pastor Sharon Ortiz, Pastor of Education

When I was young and single, and life was much less complicated than it is now, it was easy to find time with God. I could wake up when I wanted, have my devotional time uninterrupted for as long as I chose to with my perfect playlist at the perfect volume in the background, journal to my heart’s content, and be alone whenever I needed to be. I remember many sweet days and nights in rich fellowship with the Lord. 

There is one night, in particular, that will always be a special memory. I grew up five minutes away from the ocean, so being at the beach at any given hour was not unusual. One night, I was at the beach during a full moon. The moonlight was so bright that I could see my shadow clearly. I could have read a book in that moonlight, it was so radiant. As I walked along the sand that night, marveling at the moment, the ocean, God’s creation, my heart in wonder and awe of His glory and love, I saw my shadow moving over the ridges of the sand, and it almost looked like my shadow was dancing. It was as if God had orchestrated this beautiful moment just for me and was asking me to have a dance with Him in this magnificent ballroom. He wooed me. 

Fast forward a decade or so, and now I am a wife and a mom, an introvert who is never alone. I desperately missed those luxurious moments alone with the Lord. Those early years of motherhood were overwhelming and so lonely (For all you extroverts, make no mistake–being alone and being lonely are two different things!). Everything was hard. I was so discouraged, certain that I was doing it all wrong. I remember thinking back to my old lifestyle nostalgically and lamenting, “God, I miss you.” Almost as soon as I thought it, I distinctly remember God saying to me, “I didn’t go anywhere.” God is unchanging. My circumstances had changed dramatically, but He was and is the same yesterday, today, and forever. I simply did not know how to experience Him beyond my own means and measures. 

That was the beginning of a new season for me. I learned to seek Him and fellowship with Him in new ways. I learned that I could pray without ceasing while washing dishes. I learned new things about His fatherhood as I raised my own children. I learned to surrender my mind in the constant chaos of nothing being in my control. In everything that had changed in my life, I now saw an opportunity to know God newly.

All change is an opportunity to know God more, to know Him better. I am still naturally reluctant to change. I’m a creature of habit. But whether change is good or bad, I now approach it as an opportunity, an invitation from God, to see what He is doing in and through it. If I have never experienced something before, that also means I have never experienced God in that space before. That excites me. There is no end to knowing Him.

Perhaps you are facing unfamiliar territory today—be it a new job, a new role, a new house, a new stage of life. Transition is always hard, and change can be scary. But may you listen for the still, small voice that leads you by still waters and into green pastures. May you step out of the familiar into the adventure that He calls you to, and in which He goes before you. In the unknown, may you trust in His constancy. May you see change as ripe with opportunities to know Him newly. 

Change is never the end. God is simply teaching you a new dance. I, for one, never want to stop dancing with the Lover of my soul. After all these years, He woos me still. He is as romantic as ever. And it is one heck of a ride.

"Individualized Spiritual Plan"

by Pastor Sharon Ortiz, Pastor of Education

Every year, my husband and I attend a meeting at our son’s school called an IEP meeting. When you are in special education, as our son is, you get what is called an Individualized Education Plan. It is a legally binding document that states your unique needs when it comes to learning, any diagnoses or medical needs you have, current goals you are working toward, your progress on them, and any future goals you set. It lists the accommodations that you are entitled to, to ensure you get a fair chance at education in a system that is geared for typical learners. The contents of this plan go beyond just academics, and can include behavior, speech and language, and daily living goals as well. All these things are central to the whole child and their learning experience. An IEP mandates by law the resources my son can receive from his school. No two plans are alike. They are designed to meet each individual where they are, teach him at his level, and set him up for future success and growth. When all works together as intended, it is a wonderful thing.

The double edge in this picture is that in order to receive an IEP, you must first be deemed eligible for one; meaning, you must have an officially diagnosed disability. Needs are determined by how far your child measures against the typical standard. No matter how much your child has grown personally and how hard they have worked, it always stings to see in writing, that relative to “normal,” your child falls short, and thus, still qualifies for an IEP. 

It is part of the emotional roller coaster of being a special needs parent. My son grows and amazes us every day. He has worked so hard–we all have–and come so far, but on paper, he is still lacking. And I know I shouldn’t care about a piece of paper. Like so many things, however, it is easier said than done. For a long time, I held onto the expectations in my heart that he might measure as “normal.” If he can just get in the lower end of standard, I’ll be happy. This kind of thinking was not only detrimental to me, it was unfair to my fearfully and wonderfully created son. He is exactly who he is supposed to be. Our measurements are what is arbitrary. 

Diane Dokko Kim, disability ministry consultant and author, suggests that we all have an “Individualized Spiritual Plan.” No two of us are on the same spiritual journey. We are all at different places in our walk. Some of us have regressed. Some of us have accelerated. All of us fall short. Our good God meets each of us where we are, and gives us the exact tools we need. He knows all of our unique learning styles. He knows our weaknesses and our strengths. He sees us more than just what is on paper. He has good plans for us, a future and hope, and He sees His good work through to completion.

This year was the first year I did not cry during an IEP. This year, I was able to see my son for who he is on his own journey, and just that. I was able to see that he is thriving. He has met all but one of his goals. I remember just a short year ago when we set these goals, in collaboration with his teacher—who is amazing and to whom I attribute much of our success— and thinking just how lofty they were. I was doubtful that he would meet them, perhaps as a way of protecting my own heart and not wanting to be set up for disappointment. But he has. And the only one limiting him was me and my doubt.

As we close out 2022 and look ahead to 2023, I invite you to take some time to sit with our Father, the perfect teacher, and set some goals for your future. He knows what you’ve been through. He knows where you are. He knows where you want to be, and chances are, He has even loftier dreams for your life than you can imagine. Don’t compare your journey to any one else’s–this conjures nothing but discontentment–and don’t limit what He can do in your life when you give your plans to Him. May you embrace the new year full of hopes and joy. May you give yourself grace on your own journey. May you be sensitive to His voice that leads you and His counsel that guides you. And, may you thrive in the center of His will for your life.

Ok, so I might have cried at this year’s IEP. But this time they were tears of joy. I’m just so proud of him.

"It Was Not A Silent Night"

by Pastor Sharon Ortiz, Pastor of Education

“It was not a silent night. There was blood on the ground. You could hear a woman cry in the alleyways at night in the streets of David’s town.”

These are the opening lines of Andrew Peterson’s Labor of Love. I recommend you find the lyrics to this song and take some time to sit with them. It reimagines—or rather, more accurately portrays—the silent night narrative we sing about every Christmas season. I’m sure the sweet moment of the Christmas carols happened at the birth of Jesus at some point; but before that serene scene, if we think about the context we must acknowledge how dire this situation must have been for Mary and Joseph. 

Here are two young newlyweds, about to become first-time parents. Far from home, they could not even find basic dwelling for the night, let alone conditions in which to birth a child. Mary, surrounded by stable animals, rather than a team of doctors; the feel of rough straw and the harsh night’s chill, rather than the warmth of her mother’s hand coaching and comforting her through her first labor; the smell of manure and sod, rather than ice chips and clean cloths; frantic Joseph wondering how he fits into all of this, trying to take care of his new wife in a domain he knows nothing about, second guessing everything about every second that lead to this moment. What should have been the most joyous and celebratory event of their lives was shrouded in distress, confusion, anguish, questions. But just as a pain that feels like death came upon them, the Savior of the world was born.

There’s a well-known saying that the night is darkest just before dawn. This was the case literally and figuratively with the birth of Jesus. Without the dawn, without the coming sun, we were destined to darkness, the consequences of our sin, unable to make our way back home to our father, no matter how hard we try on our own merit. Without the coming Son, we are confined to hopelessness, a life forever separated from love, light, eternal joy and truth. Knowing Jesus doesn’t mean that your life will never have trouble again, but it does mean that no matter the trouble you walk though in this world—no matter how dire or overwhelming, painful or awful that trouble is—there is always hope. This is the message of Christmas.

Beloved, are you troubled? There is hope. Are you afraid? There is hope. Are you weary? There is hope. Are you hurt? There is hope. Do you have more questions than answers? There is hope. I don’t know what you are walking through, but there is One who does. He came to die and rose again. He lives today and forevermore. He has defeated every power of darkness. He has conquered even death itself. Nothing can separate you from His love. Because He lives, we can face tomorrow. Because He lives, our day will never end in the darkness. The dawn is coming. Hold on, my friend, and never lose hope. You are loved. You are redeemed. You are secure. May all hope and joy flood your heart anew this Christmas and always. For the King has come. The King is here. And He is coming again.

"Abundant Need, Abundant Life"

by Pastor Sharon Ortiz, Pastor of Education

I will never get over the fact that Jesus came to this earth as a baby. He could have come as a prominent political or religious leader. He could have come as an other-worldly being, not unlike the Marvel superheroes we love to ogle at. He could have come as anything that demanded attention, and put to rest all doubt that He was who He said He was, the Messiah and Savior of the world. Yet, He chose to come in the most unassuming form, as a baby: meek, fragile, absolutely helpless.

Dependency is not a quality that we value, especially in our society. On the contrary, our culture values independence, self-sufficiency, autonomy. We pride ourselves on being able to do it all on our own. We strive to climb up the corporate ladder and stand alone at the top. When people don’t serve us to our advantage, we are quick to weed them out, stop picking up their calls, quiet quit on them. 

While the world despises dependence, however, when we remember that we are the body of Christ, we must remember that we are designed for it. No one part of the body functions in disregard to another. Every cell in the body is intrinsically connected and reliant on the rest. Mother Teresa famously prayed to “see Jesus in every human being.” With that lens, she was enabled to serve everyone she came across, doing even the most begrudging duties with joy, because she loved Jesus; and there is no question that those who received service from Mother Teresa experienced the love and touch of God on earth. One got to serve Jesus himself; the other got to be served by him. There was a beautiful, holy exchange of the Living God that was experienced through the channel of human dependence. 

There is something sacred about depending on one another, both for the requester and the grantor. When we admit our need, we acknowledge our lack, trust God to fill it, and allow Him to do so in His way, on His time. He loves to bless us, if we only ask (Matt. 7:7). Jesus himself came as a baby, completely dependent on those around him in every single way. In His mission to save the world, He threw himself wholly at the mercy of it. Yet, at the end of His life on earth, He held nothing back, and gave Himself entirely, utterly, exhaustively for the sake of bringing us Good News, and the world was forever changed. In both asking and giving, there is opportunity to be like Christ. Don’t deny yourself either.

If Christ chose to live His life on earth in need of others, why do we so often try to do it alone? My prayer for ALCF is that we reveal Christ to each other and serve the Jesus in each other. In doing so, may we experience a deeper joy, greater rest, sweeter love. May our dependence on one another be our greatest strength. May it be the channels through which God’s abundant life flows into our hearts and into this world. And may the world continue to change with reverberations of His Good News.

"Immanuel, God With Us"

by Pastor Sharon Ortiz, Pastor of Education

“If God is holy, then He can’t sin. If God can’t sin, then He can’t sin against me. If He can’t sin against me, shouldn’t that make Him the most trustworthy being there is?” 

—Jackie Hill Perry, Holier Than Thou

My husband and I work hard to provide good things for our children, but what satisfies them the most is when we are present with them: family movie nights, trips to the zoo, or sitting down and playing a round of Mario Party together. Don’t get me wrong—these little rugrats love the material things a little too much sometimes—but it is the moments and the memories, not the things, that most fill their hearts, and ours. As our oldest is entering his teenage years, what pleases me as a parent, more than him getting good grades or doing chores, is when he shares his thoughts and feelings with me, and lets me into that space.

We often think of God’s holiness as something that separates us more from Him. Yes, the word holy literally means “to be set apart,” but what I love about this quote from Jackie Hill Perry is that when you break down the logic of what a holy God means, it becomes an immensely personal thing; instead of making Him a far off, unapproachable figure, God’s holiness makes Him the one we can trust most in our lives, and therefore the safest person to ever walk the closest with. What a beautiful thought.

God’s desire is always closeness with us, so much so that He canceled the claim of our sin that separated us from Him, atoning for it by the shedding of His blood, satisfying His wrath, and restoring perfect righteousness. For this, He gave us Immanuel, God with us. As we are in the season of Advent, may we fully receive the gift of His presence. God with us. More than asking for what He can give us, may we long for more of Him. May we experience the fullness of joy that comes from the fellowship of His Spirit with ours. If you have been distant, may you remember that He is for you and His holiness means you can trust Him. May we draw near to the one who gifts Himself to us. May we remember that He is our portion and very great reward. May you lavish in the richness of knowing your Abba Father. 

Immanuel, God with us, we thank You that Advent means no matter what, You are with us.

“With Every Breath That I Am Able”

by Pastor Sharon Ortiz, Pastor of Education

This past Sunday, as we sang, “The Goodness of God” together as a congregation, I couldn’t help but think of a dear friend of mine and the tragic year she has had. She has suffered unimaginable loss, and thinking about the words to this song from her perspective made them truly difficult to sing. How does one say, “All my life you have been faithful,” when suffering the kind of loss she has? How can you see His goodness “running after me” after a year of pain and heartbreak? All I could do was weep on her behalf. 

It is a place where the rubber meets the road in terms of working out our faith. We may know that God is able; but He doesn’t always grant us the healing we desire. We know that He is good; but He doesn’t always deliver us from hardships in the way that we wish He would. When the answer is “No,” or harder yet, when it is silence, are we still able to declare the goodness of God? 

Then came the saving grace: “...With every breath that I am able…” 

See, we aren’t always able to praise. Yes, He is always worthy of it, but if we are being real, there will be times when we know that God is good, but we can’t feel that He is. There will be times when we are so utterly broken and hurting that we can’t even “fake the funk.” Here’s the beauty of it—we don’t have to. If you are not able to now, God can handle it. He can handle your hurt and your disappointment. He can handle your anger, and He can even handle your lack of faith. The truth is that despite what you feel, what you know or don’t know, He, and His goodness, are and will always be running after you. 

Give Him what you are able to today, and He will honor it. It may not be as much as you were able to give yesterday, and it might be more than what you can give tomorrow, but as you are able, give your burdens, your sorrows, your joys and your hopes to the Lord. Those are all precious offerings. Give Him your tears if you must. Give Him your dreams. Give Him your disappointments. If all you are able to give Him is a breath, give it to Him today; for we serve a High Priest who can truly sympathize with us in our weakness (Heb. 4:15). We are loved by a good God who cares for us (1 Pet. 5:7). In those times of brokenness when words fail us, we have a Spirit who personally intercedes for us (Rom. 8:26). Give Him what you are able, as a pleasing sacrifice, and may He breathe new life into your spirit today.

"Restore Unto Me"

by Pastor Sharon Ortiz, Pastor of Education

Prince Philip competes in the World Carriage Driving Championships, 1980. TIM GRAHAM//GETTY IMAGES

If you are a fan of The Crown, then you, like me, must have been elated when Season 5 was finally released. Without giving away any important spoilers, we see that Philip, in his older age, has taken up carriage driving as a sport. There’s a scene where he is given an old, dilapidated, out-of-commission relic of a carriage, that had been sitting in a garage, covered and ignored, never intended to be put to use again, but too much of a nuisance to throw away. In his newfound passion, he takes up the task of restoring it.

Restoring the carriage, much like restoring an old car, requires a tremendous degree of research, resources, expertise, and work. We see Philip tackle this head on, and with joy. The process is so laborious, that at some point you think, it would be easier to just buy a new one. You wonder if it is even worth it. Finally, however, the finished work is revealed, and the glory of an original form being restored, brought back to its authentic self, once again fit for its intended use, puts to rest any doubt that it was all worth it.

God is a God who restores. The easier thing to do would be to walk away, leave us in disrepair, to start over. Yet no matter how broken things may seem, nothing is too hard for Him. God sees you in your intended form and purpose, and by His blood, restores you. And He doesn’t just restore us for function and use; I love that the Bible says He restores us to Himself. He is so personal, so loving. He has done the hard work. It is finished. And it is all worth it.

As Thanksgiving draws near, I give thanks foremost for my salvation. May ALCF be a body that has eyes to see what God has called us to be. If you are weary, may He restore your soul, and whatever you are walking through, may you take hope in the fact that we serve a God who will restore all things unto Himself.