Are we living in the last days? Scripture answers this question with clarity — but not with speculation. This message explores how the Bible calls believers to live with readiness, not fear, and faith, not obsession. Drawing from 1 Thessalonians, we see that Jesus’ return is meant to shape our character, not fuel anxiety. Rather than retreating or becoming complacent, the church is called to remain watchful, spiritually clear, and encouraged. Living in light of eternity means staying faithful to the mission of Jesus until He comes again.

The start of a new year naturally invites reflection.

We look at what was, what needs to change, and what we hope might be different moving forward. We evaluate our habits, our health, our finances, and our direction. And for many of us, there’s an underlying question beneath all of it: How do I actually become more like Jesus this year?

There’s something sacred about the turn of a year.

It invites reflection — on what went well, what went wrong, what surprised us, and what still aches a little when we think about it. Between December and January, we often find ourselves caught between gratitude and regret, hope and hesitation.

This week’s message met us right there — in the space between who we were and who God is calling us to become.

At Christmas, joy is everywhere. It’s printed on cards, sung in carols, and spoken about as if it should come naturally this time of year. But for many people, Christmas doesn’t amplify joy—it magnifies pressure. Expectations rise. Schedules tighten. Emotions surface. And joy can feel like the hardest of the Advent themes to actually live out.

Advent has always been a season of waiting — but not the soft, cozy waiting our culture often imagines. Biblical waiting was gritty. It was centuries of longing, aching, praying, and holding onto hope when everything around seemed to point in the opposite direction. And if there’s anything this week’s message reminded us of, it’s that the tension between God’s promise and our timeline is where real hope is forged.

Every believer leaves a legacy. The question is not if—it’s what kind. For followers of Jesus, the legacy that lasts is one built on grace, generosity, and the glory of God.

Everyone is mastering something: a trade, an instrument, a craft. But the hard truth is that while we try to master things, some things quietly start mastering us. The Bible warns that money is a powerful tool—but a terrible master. Jesus said plainly: “You cannot serve both God and money.” (Matthew 6:24)

How do believers move money from the throne back to the toolbox?

Everyone has moments that feel like night — the kind of darkness that leaves you disoriented, anxious, or unsure where to turn. Scripture reminds us that even in those moments, God is still at work. He’s not asleep. He’s not distant. He’s watching and working in the dark.

We all know what it’s like to walk into a room and feel it — tension, joy, heaviness, peace. Atmospheres are real. They can either shape us or be shaped by us.

Scripture teaches that praise is not just an emotional response to good circumstances; it’s a spiritual weapon that changes the atmosphere. When we praise, we’re not ignoring reality — we’re inviting God to redefine it.

We all know what it’s like to walk into a room and feel it — tension, joy, heaviness, peace. Atmospheres are real. They can either shape us or be shaped by us.

Scripture teaches that praise is not just an emotional response to good circumstances; it’s a spiritual weapon that changes the atmosphere. When we praise, we’re not ignoring reality — we’re inviting God to redefine it.

Thanksgiving is more than a meal or a long weekend. It’s an act of spiritual warfare. In a world where comparison and resentment come easily, giving thanks re-anchors our hearts in the truth that God is still good, still gracious, and still worthy of praise.

Most of us avoid pressure. We treat it like an enemy—something to escape, medicate, or fight off. But what if pressure is not always punishment? What if, in some cases, it’s actually God’s provision?

That’s exactly what Jonah discovered.

Running away is something we learn young—whether it’s avoiding chores, dodging responsibility, or turning away from difficult conversations. But Scripture reminds us that the greatest thing we often run from is God’s call on our lives.