A People for God's Glory

Hope in the Fire- Week 3- 1 Peter 2:1-12

There’s something holy about mornings like this. We gather, we worship, and we get to recognize one of our own as she enters into the next season of her life and heading to Georgia Southern. She’s been with us since the start of Student Ministry in December, and her faithfulness has been a quiet testimony.

We’re thankful, we’re proud, and we’re praying big things over her.

Go ahead and grab your Bibles and turn to 1 Peter 2. That’s where we’re planting ourselves today. This is the third week we’re journeying through Peter’s letter, and if you’ve been with us, you know it’s been a timely word. Peter’s not giving us fluff—he’s giving us fuel for the road.

Peter’s writing to a scattered group of believers—folks living in places like Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia (that’s modern-day Turkey if you’re looking it up). He calls them elect exiles, chosen by God but out of place in the world. Most of them were Gentiles, new to the faith, and now—because they said “yes” to Jesus—they were facing pushback from every direction.

They weren’t just outsiders geographically. They were spiritual exiles too. Culturally out of step. Socially rejected. Why? Because when you give your heart to Jesus, your allegiance shifts. And that makes you look real strange to a world bowing down to idols.

These believers didn’t blend in—and they weren’t supposed to.

Same is true of us today. We are not to blend in to this world- this culture.

And I believe Satan has done a really good job of convincing lost people they aren’t lost.

Because in the Bible belt- everyone is a Christian. They went to church growing up.

When they were 6, they repeated a prayer and got dunked during a church service. They’re good.

Doesn’t matter that was the last service they ever attended. Doesn’t matter there life doesn’t look any different than a non-believers. They repeated a prayer, got dunked, and even got a certificate of baptism as proof.

You don’t have to go to church to be a Christian- you don’t have to read the Bible to be a Christian- I pray the same prayer over my dinner every night. I even got a Cross tattoo on me.

I can do whatever I want now because I said Jesus is my Lord and Savior. Jesus loves me.

But do our actions reveal we love him?

God’s grace is free but it isn’t cheap. I don’t hold to a cheap grace theology. God died for sinners, I am the chief among them.But God did not die for us to stay in our sins.

When we decide to follow Jesus, that means we start to follow Jesus.

We aren’t supposed to look and act like this world because we aren’t a part of this world.

That’s the point of Peter’s letter to all these gentile believers.

Peter’s not just writing a pep talk—he’s writing a battle cry wrapped in encouragement. He wants these weary believers to remember who they are. Yeah, the world may push them to the brink, treat them like strangers, mock their faith, persecute them—but heaven calls them chosen. God’s own people, set apart to show off His glory in the middle of the mess.

This ain’t a letter about tapping out when things get tough. It’s a call to stand firm, to walk in holiness, and to shine like a lighthouse in the storm. Peter’s reminding them—and us—that suffering isn’t the end of the story. It’s the stage where the gospel shines brightest.

It reminds me of the grand canyon.

Have any of ya’ll ever been to the grand canyon? I went a couple of years ago for the senior trip at Providence. I was not super excited about it. I’ve seen the pictures. It’s a big hole in the ground, cool.

When We got there- I was in awe.

I remember the first time I stood at the edge of the Grand Canyon.

Man, I had seen pictures before—I’d even watched the documentaries—but nothing, and I mean nothing, prepares you for standing there in person.

I pulled out my phone, like we all do, trying to snap the perfect shot. Took a dozen pics from every angle, trying to capture the colors, the depth, the sheer scale of it all. But here’s the thing—every photo just fell flat. It couldn’t hold the weight of the glory I was seeing with my own eyes.

And that moment hit me with a deeper truth: we’re not meant to capture glory.

That’s not our job. As believers, we’re called to reflect it. Just like the moon doesn’t have its own light—it reflects the light of the sun—we’re called to reflect the glory of God to a world that’s desperate to see something real, something holy, something bigger.

And unlike that canyon photo, the glory of God doesn’t lose its majesty when it shows up in our everyday obedience.

Adrian Rogers once said,

“The darker the night, the brighter the light. The more hopeless the situation, the more glorious the salvation.”

Man, isn’t that the truth? That’s exactly what Peter’s trying to get across in this passage. When the world feels like it’s coming unglued, that people are so open minded that their brains have fallen out, when the headlines are heavy and hope feels hard to find—that’s when the people of God are meant to shine the brightest.

Your suffering isn’t wasted. Your struggle isn’t the final chapter. It’s just the backdrop that makes God's glory pop off the page a little more clearly.

And here’s the thing: the more we root our identity in who we are in Christ, the more the world will see whose we are.

We don’t just exist to be known for what we stand against—we should be known for what we’re for.

We’re for grace that runs deeper than sin— Not a grace that glosses over guilt, but one that steps into the middle of your mess, calls you by name, and walks you out of the grave. Romans 5:20 says, “But where sin increased, grace abounded all the more.” That means there is no pit too deep, no shame too heavy, no past too broken for the grace of Jesus.

It’s the kind of grace that doesn’t flinch at your failure—but rolls up its sleeves and redeems it.

Titus 3:5 reminds us, “He saved us, not because of works done by us in righteousness, but according to his own mercy.” That’s the grace we’re talking about.

We’re for hope that holds in the darkest night— Not the cheap, Facebook-quote kind of hope. I’m talking about the kind that anchors your soul.

Hebrews 6:19 says, “We have this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul.”

The kind of hope that held Paul when he was shipwrecked, imprisoned, beaten and stoned… and he still said in Romans 8:18, “For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us.”

This hope doesn’t deny the storm—it just believes in a Savior bigger than the storm.

We’re for a Savior who conquered the grave— Not just to prove a point, but to purchase a people.

1 Peter 1:3 says, “According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.”

We don’t worship a memory. We worship a Man who walked out of the tomb with nail scars and authority in His hands. He didn’t just rise—He reigns. Revelation 1:18 says, “I died, and behold I am alive forevermore, and I have the keys of Death and Hades.”

And now, He rescues, He restores, and He reigns. He still breaks chains (Galatians 5:1), still speaks peace (John 14:27), and still saves sinners (Romans 10:13).

So yeah, the world might know what the Church stands against… but may they begin to see—clearly and compellingly—what we’re for.

We are for redemption (Ephesians 1:7). We are for restoration (1 Peter 5:10). We are for resurrection life that only Jesus can give (John 11:25–26).

Because when the world gets darker, we don’t shrink back—we shine brighter. We don’t just curse the night—we carry the light.

So with that in mind, let’s open our Bibles to 1 Peter 2:1–12 and let the Word of God remind us of the living hope we have in Jesus.

1 Peter 2:1–12 ESV

So put away all malice and all deceit and hypocrisy and envy and all slander. Like newborn infants, long for the pure spiritual milk, that by it you may grow up into salvation— if indeed you have tasted that the Lord is good. As you come to him, a living stone rejected by men but in the sight of God chosen and precious, you yourselves like living stones are being built up as a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. For it stands in Scripture: “Behold, I am laying in Zion a stone, a cornerstone chosen and precious, and whoever believes in him will not be put to shame.” So the honor is for you who believe, but for those who do not believe, “The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone,” and “A stone of stumbling, and a rock of offense.” They stumble because they disobey the word, as they were destined to do. But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession, that you may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light. Once you were not a people, but now you are God’s people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy. Beloved, I urge you as sojourners and exiles to abstain from the passions of the flesh, which wage war against your soul. Keep your conduct among the Gentiles honorable, so that when they speak against you as evildoers, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day of visitation.

This is the Word of the Lord.

Truth #1: We Must Rid Ourselves of What Diminishes God's Glory 1 Peter 2:1–3

Peter opens this section with a command that hits like a holy two-by-four to the soul: “So put away all malice and all deceit and hypocrisy and envy and all slander” (1 Peter 2:1, ESV). Not some of it. All of it.

Now here’s the problem—we read a list like that and think, “Whew, glad that’s not me.” But let’s be honest: we’ve all wrapped a prayer request in a layer of gossip and called it spiritual concern. We’ve played the humble-brag game, we’ve shaded the truth to save face, and we’ve judged others for the very sins we’re still coddling in our own hearts. We don’t think we’re doing these things... but Peter’s saying: check the fruit. These aren't just harmless quirks or personality flaws. These are soul rot. They are spiritual toxins that choke out the glory of God in your life like weeds around a fire.

Bitterness, deceit, jealousy, fake religion, and trash-talking other people? That’s not the aroma of Christ—it’s the stench of the flesh. And here's the truth: You cannot reflect the holiness of God while holding hands with the very things that nailed Jesus to the cross.

Let me tell you a story.

A little while ago, I got the bright idea to clean out my my office. You ever done that? It starts off with good intentions—you think it’ll take 30 minutes. At least that was my thought- Three hours later, i’m going through old papers, old binders, and stuff I didn’t even know I still owned. I found a box labeled “KEEP” in sharpie. Opened it up—and it was full of things that should’ve been trashed a decade ago. Expired batteries. A broken remote. An old VCR tape with no label, and just old electric cords. I don’t know why but I cannot throw away an old electric cord.

And the Holy Spirit nudged me right then: “This is your heart sometimes. Stuffed full of things you’ve labeled ‘KEEP’ that I’ve already called you to throw out.”

That’s what Peter is getting at. Some of us are trying to live on mission for Jesus while dragging around spiritual clutter—anger we’ve justified, envy we’ve dressed up as ambition, grudges against others we need to forgive, hypocrisy we’ve hidden behind church attendance.

But Peter doesn’t just say “stop it.” Stopping it would only bring all of that back later. We need to replace it.

He says to replace it by longing for the pure spiritual milk, like a newborn craves milk. That kind of hunger changes things. When you fill up on the Word of God, you stop craving the junk. And you begin to grow up into salvation—not just surviving as a Christian, but thriving in holiness.

Hebrews 12:1 says, “Let us lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely…” Sin clings. It’s sticky. But so is grace—and the power of the Spirit enables us to peel it off and run free. Romans 12:2 reminds us we’re not to blend in, but to be transformed by the renewing of our minds. And that renewal? It begins with God’s Word.

As J.I. Packer put it: “We dishonor God when we proclaim His love but fail to walk in holiness.”

In other words, holiness isn’t a side option—it’s central. Because how can we reflect His glory when our hearts are still smudged with unrepentant sin?

You want to be a person who reflects the glory of God? Start by cleaning out the spiritual garage. Don’t just hide the clutter—haul it to the curb. God’s glory doesn’t shine through perfection, but it can’t shine through phony lives either.

So, if holiness isn’t optional—and if you can’t fake it til you make it—then what does it look like to truly live for His glory?

It starts with identity. Because once you’ve cleaned out the clutter and dropped the act you’re not just an empty house—you’re a holy one.

You’re not just avoiding sin—you’re stepping into something far greater. You are who God says you are. And Peter doesn’t leave that up for debate.

Truth #2: We Must Live Out Our New Identity as God’s Chosen People 1 Peter 2:4–10

Peter doesn’t pull any punches here. He lays out who you really are—not who the world says you are, not what your past whispers about you, not what shame tries to convince you of—but who God says you are. “You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for His own possession…” (1 Peter 2:9, ESV).

That’s not just churchy language. That’s identity-defining truth. You didn’t stumble into salvation. You were hand-picked by the King of Kings. You were chosen on purpose, for a purpose.

Let’s break that down:

A Chosen Race

This isn’t about skin color, family tree, or nationality. This is about spiritual heritage. God didn’t just tolerate you—He pursued you. You weren’t His plan B. Ephesians 1:4 says, “He chose us in Him before the foundation of the world.” That means your identity is not earned by performance or lost by failure. You are His because He wanted you.

A Royal Priesthood

In the Old Testament, priests were the ones who had access to God—they offered sacrifices, they stood in the gap. But now, through Jesus, you have access. You’re not just saved—you’re sent. You’re royalty with a priestly purpose. You carry the presence of God into a world that desperately needs to see Him. You offer spiritual sacrifices—not animals, but your life, your praise, your obedience. (Romans 12:1)

A Holy Nation

Holy doesn’t mean weird—it means set apart. You’re not supposed to blend in. God calls His people to look different, love different, live different. Philippians 2:15 says we are to “shine as lights in the world.” Not flicker. Shine. We’re not supposed to mimic the culture—we’re meant to mirror Christ.

A People for His Own Possession

You belong to Him. You’re His treasured possession. Not because of what you bring to the table, but because of what Christ did on the cross. You are fully known, fully loved, and fully His. That changes how you see yourself—and how you live.

So here’s the question: are you living like someone who belongs to God? Or are you still chasing the approval of people who didn’t die for you?

God didn’t just save you from something—He saved you for something.

For His glory. For His purposes. For His mission. He rescued you not just to forgive your sin, but to form you into His people—to make you part of a new community, a holy family, a spiritual house that He Himself dwells in. Ephesians 2:19–22 says you’re no longer strangers—you are members of the household of God, being built together as His dwelling place.

And get this—John 15:16 says, “You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit…” In other words, this isn’t a volunteer position you signed up for. It’s a divine appointment. God’s not surprised you’re here. You were created, chosen, called, and commissioned to reflect His glory in this world.

And church, we’ve seen that on full display on Wednesday nights as we have been walking through the life of Joseph and really through the entire book of Genesis but I think Jospeh’s life really displays it.

You remember—Joseph didn’t sign up for the pit, the prison, or the pain. But none of it was wasted. God used every high and every low to put Joseph in a position not just of power, but of purpose—to preserve God’s people and display His faithfulness. Joseph's life is a billboard for this very truth: you may not understand the season you're in, but if you're in Christ, you can trust the One who called you into it. You were chosen for glory, even in the hard places.

Isaiah 43:7 reminds us: “Everyone who is called by my name, whom I created for my glory, whom I formed and made.” That’s you. That’s who you are. Not an accident. Not an afterthought. In God’s economy, there are no spare parts and no backup plans. You are not the result of random chance or a cosmic shrug. You were formed—intentionally—for His glory.

Some parents may have been surprised by your arrival, but Heaven wasn’t. God doesn’t do surprise pregnancies. He does purposeful creations. He knit you together for such a time as this.

And that's why, starting next week, we’re putting baby bottles in the foyer. Not as decoration—but as a declaration. A declaration that we are for life. From the womb to the tomb. We’re going to take those bottles home and fill them up—with spare change, with checks, with whatever you can give. Because every single contribution, whether it feels big or small to you, makes an eternal difference in the life of someone who needs hope.

This isn’t just about giving—it’s about glorifying. When you support a mother in crisis, when you help protect the unborn, when you offer resources and hope—you are reflecting the heart of God. That simple act of obedience becomes a megaphone for His mercy.

You are not defined by your past. You are not disqualified by your failures. You are not God's plan B.

You were formed for His glory. And now you’re invited to reflect it in this simple act.

But here’s the tension: too often, we forget who we are.

It’s like that scene in The Lion King. Simba’s run off from the Pride Lands, hiding out in the jungle, pretending he's not royalty. Instead of eating the meer cat and worthog, he is eating bugs.

Then Rafiki shows up, smacks him on the head—like a good preacher should—and says, “You are more than what you have become.” Church, that’s us.

Too many of us are living in spiritual amnesia. We’ve forgotten our bloodline.

Forgotten the cross that saved us and the Spirit that sealed us. We’ve traded our royal calling for comfort, compromise, or hiding.

But God’s calling you back to who you really are.

So don’t buy the lie that your cracks make you useless.

Charles Spurgeon said it best: “God does not need stars to glorify Him—He uses candles, even cracked ones, to shine in the dark.” And that’s good news for us—because we’re all cracked in some way.

But God isn’t looking for flawless vessels; He’s looking for faithful ones. Your flaws don’t disqualify you. Your failures don’t rewrite your name.

If you’re in Christ, your identity is sealed: chosen, holy, dearly loved. You’re not some spiritual background character—you are a son or daughter of the King.

And the world desperately needs to see that. Not so they’ll be impressed with you—but so they’ll be drawn to Him. Because when people see a life that’s been marked by grace and anchored in truth, it makes them lean in and ask questions.

So live like it. Walk like it. Worship like it.We don’t do any of this to earn God’s approval—you already have it. You belong to Him. And when you truly embrace that identity, you won’t just survive the darkness—you’ll radiate His glory right in the middle of it.

And that leads us to Truth #3: We Must Reflect God’s Glory to a Watching World.

Truth #3: We Must Reflect God’s Glory to a Watching World 1 Peter 2:11–12

Peter finishes this section by turning the lens outward. It’s not just about what God has done in you—it’s about what the world sees through you. He says, “Keep your conduct among the Gentiles honorable, so that... they may see your good deeds and glorify God…”

In other words, your life is on display.

I have an 8 year old that parrots everything I say even when I don’t think he is listening. We were heading to school the other day and we were stopped at a red light. It turned green and the car in front of us didn’t move right away and I hear behind me “what color are you waiting for? Go!”

Not my finest moment as a Father and I have to watch what I say and do.

Whether you realize it or not, someone’s watching you as well. And the way you live your life is telling them something about the Lord.

Nothing can ruin your ability to witness then living and acting just like everyone else. Because whats the big deal about Chrisitianity if you do everything they do? What’s the difference?

This is not about putting on a performance.

This is about living from your identity in such a way that people start to wonder about your God.

Jesus said in Matthew 5, “You are the light of the world... let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.”

Notice—He didn’t say, “Try to be the light.” He said, “You are.”

That’s not a challenge—it’s a reality. The question is: what kind of light are we putting out?

Paul writes in Titus 2 that we should show ourselves in all respects to be models of good works. Not just in public. Not just on Sundays. All the time.

Philippians 2 echoes the same thing—we are called to shine as lights in the world, in the middle of a crooked and twisted generation. Translation? You’re not here to blend in. You’re here to stand out—not for your glory, but for His.

**And let’s be honest—**the world isn’t paying attention to our theology debates as much as it’s watching how we treat our spouse. How we handle pressure. How we respond when life gets hard. They’re not just listening for arguments—they’re looking for authenticity.

And when they see lives that are different, marked by grace and truth and love, they start to lean in.

Because holiness isn’t just personal—it’s missional. Your life is like a billboard pointing to the greatness of God.

A.W. Tozer once said, “The most important thing about you is what comes to your mind when you think about God.”

That might sound like an overstatement—until you sit with it for a minute.

Because what you think about God—what you really think—shapes everything. Not just how you worship on Sunday, but how you treat people on Monday. How you handle suffering. How you respond to sin. How you pray—or whether you even pray at all.

So let me ask you: What comes to your mind when you think about God?

For some of us, if we’re honest, we picture God like a disappointed school teacher—arms crossed, foot tapping, just waiting to catch us doing something wrong.

Others of us see Him more like a gentle old man—soft-spoken, sweet, but maybe a little out of touch with the current generation. Some of us grew up thinking God was mostly mad, or distant, or unpredictable—kind of like a cosmic traffic cop with a quick temper. And for some, He’s like that dad who never showed up… so you’re still not sure if He really wants to be near you.

But none of that matches who He really is.

The God of Scripture is not moody or detached.

He’s not looking to zap you when you mess up. And He’s not wringing His hands, hoping you finally get your act together.

He is the Creator of the universe, yes—but He’s also the Good Shepherd who leaves the 99 to chase after the one.

He is holy, but He’s also tender. Righteous, yet merciful.

He has lightning in His hands and scars on His wrists.

And here's the thing—what you think about Him determines how you live.

If you think He’s cold and indifferent, you’ll keep your distance.

If you think He’s just angry, you’ll spend your life trying to earn what’s already been given because you want to make him happy and you’ll just end up exhausted.

But if you believe He is full of grace and truth, mighty and near, just and merciful—then you’ll start to walk differently. You'll live with freedom, with joy, with purpose. Because you’ll know you’re not trying to impress Him—you’re walking with Him.

So let me ask again: What comes to your mind when you think about God? Because whatever that is—it’s already shaping the kind of Christian you are becoming.

And if we want the world to see God's glory through us, then it starts by seeing God rightly ourselves.

With that in mind, let me ask you another question: what are people learning about God by watching you?

Does your life make Him look glorious? Gracious? Worth following?

You are a people of God’s glory. Not just called to endure, not just to be forgiven—but to reflect Him. To live in such a way that the world doesn’t see you, but sees Jesus through you. That’s the call. That’s the mission. And the world is watching.

Because you were not saved just to endure—you were saved to radiate. You’re not here to blend in—you’re here to reflect the glory of the King. You are a people of God’s glory.

And sometimes, that kind of glory shines brightest in the darkest places.

Let me tell you a story that’s echoed across generations...

It happened over a hundred years ago, deep in the hills of northeast India.

In the 1800’s, a missionary from Wales who had endured severe persecution finally saw his first converts in a particularly brutal village in the Northern Indian province of Assam. A husband and wife, with their two children, professed faith in Christ and were baptized.

The gospel had reached their village, and it had transformed their lives.

But not everyone celebrated.

The village chief, furious at this newfound faith, gathered the entire community. He dragged the man, his wife, and their two sons into the square and gave him a choice: deny Jesus—or face execution.

With death staring him in the face, the man didn't back down. He didn’t even speak. He said: “I have decided to follow Jesus and there is no turning back.”

The chief was enraged. He ordered his soldiers to kill the man’s children.

As their lifeless bodies fell to the ground, the chief demanded again, “Now will you deny Him?” The father, tears falling, reportedly said, “The world can be behind me, but the cross is still before me.” 

The chief motioned for the archers, and his wife fell beside their sons. One last time, the chief offered him life in exchange for denial. And one last time, the man declared: “ Though no one is here to go with me, still I will follow Jesus.”

He was executed. But the gospel was just getting started.

Because something broke in that chief. He saw a kind of faith he couldn’t explain. A love deeper than death. A glory greater than fear. And with the blood of the martyrs still fresh in the soil, the chief fell to his knees and said, “I too belong to Jesus Christ.” And revival swept through that village—not through comfort, but through courageous conviction.

Church, this is what Peter is telling us: you are not here to blend in. You were not saved to play it safe.

You were chosen by God, not just to endure the darkness—but to declare His worth in the midst of it. You are a people of His glory.

And that means your life should radiate something otherworldly—something that doesn’t make sense unless Jesus is real.

So let me ask you—what are you holding on to that’s dimming that radiance? What’s standing in the way of you fully surrendering? Bitterness? Fear? Secret sin? Pride? Whatever it is, the cross is enough. And today can be your turning point. Repent and run to the cross of Jesus.

We’re about to move into a time of invitation and consecration.

This is not just a tradition we tack on to the end of a service—it’s a sacred moment. A time when you respond to what God’s already been stirring in your heart.

In a minute, we’re going to sing that hymn—“I Have Decided to Follow Jesus.” And my prayer is that it hits a little deeper today. That it doesn’t just land as lyrics, but as a personal declaration. Because remember where that song came from—it came from a man in India who literally lost his life for saying those words. His wife, his children, his own life were taken from him—and his final words were still, “No turning back.”

So let’s not sing it casually. Let’s sing it like people who believe it.

Maybe you’re here today and you've never fully surrendered your life to Jesus. Listen—this is your moment. Not later. Not “when I clean up my act.” Not “when life calms down.”

Right here. Right now.

You can come forward during the song. One of our church leaders—myself included—would love to pray with you. You don’t have to have it all figured out. You just need to take the first step. Jesus already took the last one.

Or maybe you've already trusted Jesus, but today it’s time to take that next step—to plant your life here, in this local body, and officially join this church family. and some of ya’ll have been attending as almost as long as I have been called to Cedar Bay.

Let me be real with you: joining the church doesn’t mean you’ve got to hit some spiritual quota- there isn’t a membership fee. It doesn’t mean you're promising perfection or pretending you’ve got it all together.

It just means you're saying: “These are my people. I want to walk with them. I want to grow with them. I want to serve with them. I want to follow Jesus—not in isolation, but in community.”

Because there’s something powerful—beautiful—about watching someone stand and say, “I belong here.” It’s a declaration of spiritual roots. It’s saying, “I’m not doing life alone anymore. I’m linking arms with other broken, redeemed people who are running hard after Jesus.”

And maybe for some of you, this moment isn’t about salvation or membership—it’s just about obedience.

It’s about finally saying yes to something God’s been calling you to do. Maybe it’s a calling, a conversation, a conviction you’ve been putting off.

But hear me: delayed obedience is still disobedience.

If God’s been tugging at your heart, don’t keep pushing it to the side. There is no safer or better place to say yes to God than right here and right now.

Or maybe… you just need someone to pray with. You’re weary. You’re wounded. You’re walking through something and you don’t even have the words. The altar is open. The arms of the Father are open. And there’s a church family here that’s ready to meet you there.

So whether you need salvation, a place to belong, a step of obedience, or just a prayer to keep going… Don’t wait. Don’t hesitate. Come forward and say what that man in India once said: “I have decided to follow Jesus. No turning back.”