How the way we see ourselves—our self-image—can be completely transformed by our identity in Christ. A lot of us deal with negative self-talk, feeling like we’re not good enough, like we don’t belong, or like we have nothing to offer. But 2 Corinthians 5 reminds us that in Jesus, we’re given real worth, a place to belong, a purpose to live for, and gifts to use. When we start to believe what God says about us—that we’re loved, chosen, and made new—it changes everything. We’re not broken beyond repair. We’re His masterpiece, made to live with confidence and impact as part of His family.

In seasons of silence, when God feels distant and our prayers seem to hit a wall, Psalm 13 gives voice to the pain of waiting. David models what it looks like to wrestle with emotions while still holding onto faith. Through a raw cry, a desperate ask, and an unwavering hold on God’s unchanging character, we see a pathway for walking through the “in-between” seasons—those frustrating gaps between promise and fulfillment. This talk invites us to cry out honestly, lean into God dependently, and hold on to His goodness, even when nothing around us makes sense.

We tend to forget the best part of a story—the ending. And while how a story starts matters, how it ends matters more. The middle doesn’t define the finish. In Jesus’ parable, the story ends abruptly—left open on purpose. Why? Because we’re the ones who finish it. The questions it leaves us with are powerful: Which brother are you? What’s keeping you from the celebration? Can you embrace grace—for others and yourself? How will your story end? And what kind of church are we becoming?

The older brother is a character that’s often missed or overlooked—but he’s actually the key to the story. Jesus uses him to show that you can be in the house, close to the Father, and still be lost. Proximity doesn’t equal intimacy. You can look the part, but religion without relationship is still rebellion. Don’t miss out on the joy and grace God wants to give because your heart isn’t aligned with His.

Sometimes one word can mean two opposite things—like “buckle” (to fasten or to collapse) or “clip” (to cut or to connect). The word “prodigal” is the same. It can mean recklessly wasteful or extravagantly generous. In Luke 15, we see both: a son who wasted everything and a father who gave everything. As Tim Keller points out, this story is really about the father—our God—who is radically generous with grace and love. So the question is: which kind of life are you choosing? One that chases empty things or one defined by a Father who calls you His own?

The lost son hit rock bottom—and finally woke up. In a moment of painful clarity, he saw his condition for what it was and realized, “I don’t belong here.” That self-awareness was the first step home. While some of us learn the hard way, we don’t have to. If we truly saw the kindness of the Father and the difference between the emptiness of everything else and the fullness He offers, we might turn back sooner. The son got honest, confessed where he’d gone wrong, and even though he didn’t fully grasp the Father’s love—he got up and went.