Something’s Not Right —> Something Made Right
Notes
Transcript
Handout
Good morning! I’m genuinely excited that you’re here today. If we haven’t had the chance to meet yet, my name is Kyle, and I have the honor of serving as the Lead Pastor here at Anchor City Church.
This morning, I know we’ve got people here who believe in Jesus and are walking in relationship with Him.
But I’m not naive—I also know there are some of you who don’t believe in Jesus. Some of you might not even know anything about Him.
And I just want to say this clearly: I’m really glad you’re here.
If you’re new to church, let me help you out a bit. I’m going to talk for the next two and a half to three hours…
Just kidding.
But I am going to talk for a bit. And I’m going to say a lot of things.
So here’s how I’d love to help you get the most out of it: grab a notebook, your phone—whatever you’ve got—and take some notes. There’ll be Bible verses on the screen, and a few points of emphasis. Jot them down. You can reflect on them later, process them—or, if you’re looking for content to slander me online, well… now you’ve got that too.
But seriously—I want to be honest with you this morning. Like I said, I’m going to say a lot. Some of it you might like. It might encourage you.
Other things I say might frustrate you. They might even hurt your feelings.
And here’s the thing:
I care enough about you to hurt your feelings.
Sometimes we need our feelings hurt. Sometimes we need to be told the truth.
And that’s what I’m going to give you today: the truth.
I know there’s a popular criticism out there that says,
“There’s no hate like Christian love.”
But hear me on this—everything I say today comes from a place of love and grace.
Not judgment. Not superiority. Just genuine love.
And here’s the thing about love:
Love tells the truth.
And I care too much about your soul—your eternity—to not tell you the truth today.
My prayer for you this morning is that this truth gives you hope and security.
This morning, I want to take you to the book of Romans.
Romans is a book in the Bible written by a guy named Paul. Now, Paul didn’t grow up loving Jesus. In fact, he was the exact opposite.
Paul was anti-Jesus. Anti-Christian.
So much so that he actually captured and oversaw the killing of Christians.
But then… Jesus met him.
And it changed everything.
That encounter turned Paul from a persecutor into a preacher, from a murderer into a messenger of hope.
He wrote this letter—what we now call the book of Romans—to a group of believers in the city of Rome, trying to encourage them, strengthen them, and remind them what the gospel is really all about.
Paul’s life message was the gospel.
That word—gospel—you’ve probably heard it before. We use it in church a lot. But let’s be real for a second…
What does it actually mean?
The word “gospel” literally means “good news.”
But here’s the thing I want us to wrestle with this morning:
If the gospel is good news… then what is the good news?
Because when I look around at the world,
when I talk to people,
when I feel the weight of my own life sometimes…
It doesn’t always feel like good news.
Maybe it feels like bad news.
Maybe it feels like no news.
Maybe it feels like news you stopped believing in a long time ago.
But there’s something we all have in common as humans—whether you believe in Jesus or not:
We all need hope.
And that’s exactly what Paul writes to the church in Rome all those years ago.
Let’s read Romans chapter 8, verse 24.
24 For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees?
I don’t know about you, but I could use some hope.
Because when I look around at the world, what I see is…
Something that is broken.
Something that is not good.
And that’s why this morning, I’ve titled our conversation:
Something’s Not Right.
Would you pray with me?
Pray
Now if you know me, you already know this.
You’ve heard me talk about it before, so just sit there, smile, and be quiet.
I have ADHD.
And not the cute, TikTok version everyone seems to claim.
Not the “Oh my gosh, I got distracted while doing laundry—I must have ADHD” version.
No. I have the real deal.
I walk into rooms and forget why I’m there.
I lose my phone while holding my phone.
I start seven tasks and finish none.
My brain is like a browser with 58 tabs open, 3 frozen, and music playing from somewhere. To be honest it’s a miracle I am able to get these messages put together ever week.
And listen—I’ve done some dumb things because of it.
But there’s one moment that stands above the rest…And I have never told this story to anyone before.
I don’t even think my wife knows this happened.
So babe… surprise. Remember you married me. We’re in this together now.
One day I went to H‑E‑B.
And I don’t know what it was about that day, but I was locked in.
I had a list. I stuck to it.
Didn’t get distracted. No random snacks. No mystery freezer items.
Just real groceries.
Grown adult groceries.
Meat. Veggies. Essentials.
I was out there buying ingredients, not just food.
And I wasn’t just shopping—I was winning.
Catching sales. Using digital coupons. Making smart decisions.
I’m walking through the aisles like I’ve got a whole cooking show crew following me.
I check out, bag everything up, cart full.
Walk outside, head to the truck.
And now this part is important, especially if you go to Anchor City—
I pushed my cart all the way to the cart return.
Because that’s what good people do.
(If you know, you know.)
I could’ve left it on the curb. I could’ve ghosted that cart.
But no.
I returned the cart.
Because I’m a good person.
I get in the truck, start driving home, and I’m feeling so proud.
I’m like:
“I did that.”
“We’re gonna eat so good this week.”
“I saved money. I stayed on task. I’m a responsible adult.”
“This is my peak form.”
And then… halfway home…
I glance in the rearview mirror.
And I realize…I never loaded the groceries into the truck.
Y’all.
I left the entire cart of groceries
Right there in the cart return.
The cart I proudly returned.
Like some kind of grocery martyr.
And you’d think that was the worst part.
But it’s not.
The worst part is…
I went back…
and completely forgot that I had already shopped.
I walked back into H‑E‑B
and just started shopping again.
I re-did the exact same trip.
I went back through the same aisles. Bought the same stuff.
Checked out… again.
And as I’m walking back to the truck to load the bags…
I see a cart.
In the cart return.
Full of groceries.
My groceries.
Looking at me like:
“Welcome back, genius.”
And yeah—it’s hilarious now.
But it’s also kind of exactly what Romans 8 is talking about.
Because here’s what Paul says:
24 For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees?
I thought I had it all together.
I had done everything “right.”
Paid the price. Checked the boxes. Felt good about myself.
But I was still empty.
Because I left something important behind—
And I didn’t even realize it until I was already on the road.
That’s the picture Paul gives us here in Romans.
He’s saying:
“You don’t see it yet. You don’t feel it yet.
But there is something—someone—worth hoping for.”
Because the truth is, you and I were made for more.
But we’re living in the middle of something that’s not quite whole.
The world isn’t right.
We aren’t right.
And even though Jesus has already paid the price for us,
we’re still living in the tension between what He’s done…
and what hasn’t fully been realized yet.
That’s what Paul means when he says:
“Hope that is seen is not hope.”
You and I are on the drive home—and something feels off.
Because this world is not our final destination.
We were meant for more than this.
We’re still waiting for the full redemption of everything Jesus already secured.
So if you feel like you’re missing something,
like you’ve done all the right things but your soul is still empty…
So if you feel like you’re missing something—
like your soul is still empty, even after doing everything right—
there’s a reason for that.
It’s because your soul is empty.
And the reason it’s empty isn’t just because of bad circumstances or hard seasons.
It’s because we are broken and sinful people.
We don’t like to say that out loud.
We’d rather say “flawed” or “imperfect.”
But let’s be real—we’re not just a little off.
We are sinful. And sin has destroyed us.
This goes all the way back to the beginning—the garden.
In Genesis, God created everything. And it was good.
There was no pain. No shame. No fear.
Only peace, beauty, and perfect relationship between God and humanity.
God creates Adam and Eve—not just to exist, but to live in closeness with Him.
To know Him.
To walk with Him.
To trust Him.
He gave them everything they needed.
And He gave them one command:
Don’t eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.
Not to control them.
Not because He was afraid of them becoming powerful.
But to protect them.
To remind them—He is God, and they are not.
And then…The serpent shows up.
Not with force.
Not with violence.
With a lie.
“Did God really say…?”
“You won’t surely die.”
“God just knows that if you eat it, you’ll be like Him.”
He plants the seed of doubt.
“Maybe God isn’t good.”
“Maybe He’s holding out on me.”
“Maybe I can do life better on my own.”
And listen—it worked.
They listened to the lie.
They questioned God.
They reached for what He told them to stay away from.
Not by accident.
Not by mistake.
Not even just because the serpent tempted them.
But by choice.
They chose their way over God’s.
And in that moment—Sin entered the story.
And sin entered the human heart.
And from that day on, every single one of us has carried that same brokenness.
We are not just people who make mistakes.
We are people who have willfully walked away from the God who made us.
We are sinful.
We’re not just struggling to be better—We are failing at being good enough.
And you feel that.
You feel it in the guilt.
In the emptiness.
In the comparison.
In the pressure to perform.
In the fear that you’ll never measure up.
Because something’s not right.
And that something…is you and me. We are not right.
A few chapters before Paul starts talking about hope in Romans 8,
he says something else—something that’s just as true, but not as easy to hear.
23 for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God,
All.
Not some.
Not just “the bad people.”
All.
That includes me.
That includes you.
You fall short. I fall short.
That’s the part of this whole thing we like to pretend isn’t true.
But can I ask you something?
Who are you trying to convince that you’re a good person?
Me? Or you?
Because let’s be honest—God already knows.
And you know too.
You know the thoughts you think when no one’s around.
You know the anger you carry.
The jealousy. The bitterness. The lust. The pride.
You know the darkness that’s in your heart.
This is where we stop playing games.
You’re not fine.
You’re not good enough.
You’re not “mostly good with a few flaws.”
You are a sinner.
And I am too.
And that’s why the gospel is not just a nice idea—It’s our only hope.
You may be asking right now:
“So what’s the hope, then?”
“What is the Gospel?”
“What is the good news?”
Because honestly, Kyle…You just spent a lot of time tearing me down.
Telling me how bad I am.
How broken I am.
How sinful I am.
And you’re right. I did.
But hear me—
The gospel isn’t good news because you’re a good person. It’s good news because Jesus came for you—knowing you’re not.
He didn’t wait for you to clean yourself up.
He didn’t die for some future version of you with less baggage.
He came right into your mess, your shame, your sin…And He gave everything.
But what is everything?
He left heaven.
He left His throne.
And He walked this broken world.
He felt hunger. He felt betrayal. He felt pain.
And what did He do?
He gave His life.
But why?
To answer that, let’s go back to Romans:
23 For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Sin earns a payment.
And that payment is death.
Not just physical death—eternal death.
A real place. A real separation. Hell.
And maybe you’re asking right now:
“How could a loving God send someone to hell?”
Ready for the truth?
He doesn’t. People send themselves.
Look at the verse again—“the wages of sin…”
A wage is a payment. It’s what’s earned.
And we’ve earned it.
I’ve earned it. You’ve earned it.
Because even on our best day—we still fall short.
Even our best attempts at being “good” are soaked in pride, selfishness, and sin.
There’s no sugarcoating it.
We deserve hell.
But look at the second half of the verse:
“…but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
A wage is something you earn.
A gift is something you’re given.
And what did He give?
He gave us freedom.
Freedom from hell.
Freedom from condemnation.
Freedom to be with Him for eternity.
And that gift came at a cost—His life.
Let me show you what that looked like.
Here’s the moment it happened. The moment Jesus paid it all:
32 Two others, who were criminals, were led away to be put to death with him. 33 And when they came to the place that is called The Skull, there they crucified him, and the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. 34 And Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” And they cast lots to divide his garments.
Even while dying and bleeding—He was forgiving.
Jump down to verse 39
39 One of the criminals who were hanged railed at him, saying, “Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us!” 40 But the other rebuked him, saying, “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? 41 And we indeed justly, for we are receiving the due reward of our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong.” 42 And he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” 43 And he said to him, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.”
That man had no time to clean himself up.
No time to earn it.
No good deeds. No church membership. No spiritual résumé.
Just one thing: faith.
And Jesus said—“You’re with me now.”
44 It was now about the sixth hour, and there was darkness over the whole land until the ninth hour, 45 while the sun’s light failed. And the curtain of the temple was torn in two. 46 Then Jesus, calling out with a loud voice, said, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit!” And having said this he breathed his last.
He died.
Let that sink in for a moment.
The Son of God—
The sinless Savior—
The one who healed the sick, raised the dead, welcomed the outcast, and loved the broken—
He breathed His last.
And the world went dark.
Hope, it seemed, had died with Him.
His followers scattered.
The people mourned.
Jesus God in flesh was dead.
But hope didn’t die.
Because death didn’t defeat Him—because death is just a payment.
And Jesus paid it in full.
Sin had a cost.
He covered it.
The grave had a claim.
He broke it.
And on the third day…He got up.
The stone was rolled away.
The tomb was empty.
And Jesus walked out—alive.
The hope of the gospel isn’t just that He died for us…It’s that He didn’t stay dead.
He resurrected.
And with Him, He brought new life—for anyone willing to receive it.
So yeah—Something’s not right.
We’ve seen it in the world.
We’ve felt it in our hearts.
We’ve carried it in our stories.
That’s where we started today.
That’s what I named this message.
Because we needed to feel the weight.
We needed to be honest about the brokenness.
The pain.
The sin.
The ache.
But can I tell you something?
We’re not ending where we started.
Because Jesus didn’t stay dead.
And if He didn’t stay dead…then this story has a different ending.
So I’m changing the title.
It’s no longer “Something’s Not Right.”
It’s “Something Made Right.”
Because in Jesus—The payment was made.
The stone was rolled.
The tomb was empty.
And what felt like the end… became the beginning.
What was broken—He can heal.
What was dead—He can raise.
What was lost—He can restore.
What was guilty—He can forgive.
And He’s not asking you to earn it.
He’s just asking you to receive it.
He paid the price.
Your freedom has been purchased.
Your eternity can be secure.
All you have to do…is accept the gift.
And once you do—
I’ve got even more good news.
38 For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, 39 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.
When you accept the gift—
NOTHING can take it from you.
Not death.
Not shame.
Not your past.
Not your doubt.
Not even you.
Nothing can separate you from His love.
But let me be clear—
That doesn’t mean life suddenly becomes easy.
It doesn’t mean your struggles disappear.
It doesn’t mean everything gets fixed overnight.
You will still face pain.
You’ll still have battles.
You’ll still walk through seasons that feel heavy.
But now… you won’t walk through them alone.
Because the love of Jesus will hold you, carry you, and keep you—no matter what comes.
So here’s the truth:
You have a choice.
You can walk out of here the same way you came in—Still carrying the weight. Still searching for hope.
Still knowing deep down that something’s not right.
Or—
You can receive the gift.
You can walk in freedom.
You can walk in forgiveness.
You can walk in new life.
But hear me…This is not a light decision.
This isn’t just an emotional moment.
This is about your eternity.
Because to say “no” to Jesus… is to choose separation from Him.
It’s to say, “I’ll pay the price for my sin myself.”
And friend—that leads to one place: hell.
But to say “yes” to Jesus—
Isn’t just accepting the gift He already paid for.
It’s stepping into the love, the life, and the hope He died to give you…and choosing to surrender your life to Him in return.
It means denying your own desires.
Laying down your will.
Letting go of control.
Saying, “Not my way anymore… but Yours.”
It’s not easy.
It’s costly.
But it’s worth everything.
Because you’re not just choosing a belief system—You’re choosing a King.
So here’s what we’re going to do:
We’re not going to rush this.
We’re not going to pressure you.
And we’re definitely not going to leave you on your own.
If you’re ready to make that decision this morning—
To receive His grace and surrender your life—
then at the end of this service, I want you to come forward.
We will have a team—pastors, leaders, people just like you—
who are ready to pray with you, talk with you, and walk with you through what this decision really means.
And listen—don’t be embarrassed about making a decision for eternity.
There is no shame in saying,
“I want to follow Jesus.”
There is only joy.
There is only freedom.
There is only everything you were made for.
Pray
