Saturday’s study wasn’t just about fire. It was about transformation — about what happens when the shattered, scarred, and searching refuse to burn alone. Each stick we placed in that fire carried a story. Pain. Loss. Betrayal. Healing. But as the flames rose, so did something in us. Every crack of the wood was a whisper of release. Every spark that flew upward was a reminder that even ashes can rise. We realized something sacred that morning: we are not defined by what broke

This morning, as the world was still waking up, I felt the Spirit tug at me — quietly but clearly — to take a walk around the yard. I didn’t plan to stop anywhere, but my heart led me right to our little rock garden. I stood there for a long while, just taking it in. The stones. The flowers. The sunlight resting gently on each rock. Every single one represents something deeply personal — a burden laid down, a prayer released, a whisper of trust. What started as a simple idea

Come join us under the sky and on the grass  for a Bible study like no other. No pews. No pressure. Just real people, real talk, and room...

Just a gentle reminder in the middle of your week: You are not too much. You are not falling behind. You are not alone. We’ve been...