Yesterday at New Life, we got to celebrate one of the most beautiful moments we ever experience as a church family—water baptism. Every time I witness someone step into the water, I’m reminded that baptism is far more than a ceremony or tradition. It’s a defining moment … a sacred marker on the journey of faith.

Baptism represents both a surrender and a beginning. It’s the visible sign of an inward reality: a life laid down and raised up again through Jesus Christ, which means that when someone is baptized, they are saying with their whole heart, “I belong to Jesus. My old life is gone. I am made new.”

What Does Water Baptism Symbolize?
Baptism is not just a religious ritual to check off a list—I hope you believe that, too. It’s a bold, powerful declaration in that when you go down into the water, it’s like being buried with Christ—laying down your sin, your shame, your old ways. And when you rise out of the water, it’s a picture of resurrection. A brand-new life. A fresh start.

It’s also an undeniable statement of protest—an outward rebellion against the inner war sin tries to wage in us. Baptism doesn’t mean we’re begging God for forgiveness; not at all! Rather, it means we’re receiving, with joy and gratitude, the grace that Jesus already won for us on the cross.

How Does Baptism Connect Us to God’s Family?
While faith is deeply personal, it was never meant to be private. Baptism pulls us into something bigger than ourselves—the family of God—and through baptism, we are united with other believers, knitted into a spiritual family that will walk with us, encourage us, and help protect us from the dangers of isolation and loneliness.

When we’re baptized, we aren’t just making a personal commitment. We’re stepping into a community—a fellowship of faith where we can be known, loved, and challenged to grow.

What Happens During Baptism?
The actual moment of baptism is deeply filled with significance. Those being baptized declare their faith publicly, answering simple but profound questions about their belief in God the Father, Jesus the Son, and the Holy Spirit. They receive the blessing and prayers of their church family, because we aren’t meant to do this journey alone. Then, as they are immersed in the water, they symbolically die to their old way of life. And when they come up out of the water, it’s a celebration of resurrection—a visible, joyful proclamation that they now walk in newness of life with Christ.

As you reflect on baptism, let me encourage you to sit with a few important questions:

• Have you fully surrendered your life to Christ?
• Are you trying to follow Jesus alone, or are you walking with a spiritual family?
• What areas of your life still need to die, so that new life can grow in their place?

Challenge for the Week
Take some time this week to examine your heart. Are there places where you’re still holding back from fully surrendering to Jesus? If you’ve accepted Christ but haven’t yet been baptized, I encourage you to prayerfully consider taking that important step. You’ll have an opportunity this fall to do just that, and I pray you’ll say yes when the time comes.

And if you have already been baptized, look for someone newer in the faith that you can encourage. Be part of their spiritual family. Help them know they’re not alone. Let’s live like people who know the beauty of that new life. Let’s live as family.

I love being your pastor,

Brady

The resurrection isn’t just something that happened in history but is something that’s still happening today. When Jesus stepped out of that tomb, he didn’t throw a parade. He didn’t return to the crowds or confront his accusers. Instead, He did what he’s always done best: he came close, quietly, personally, and powerfully. He went straight to the ones who were hurting, doubting, hiding … straight to the ones who thought they were disqualified from his acceptance, his attention, his grace.

He still does the same today. Jesus moves toward us—patiently, tenderly, without hesitation—right in the middle of our confusion, our fear, our grief, and even our shame. He doesn’t flinch at our mess or recoil from our questions. Instead, he draws near with a love that is both strong and gentle, both holy and deeply personal. That’s the kind of Savior he is. That’s the kind of love he still offers—unearned, unwavering, and always right on time.

So as we reflect on that first Easter morning, here are three soul-steadying truths that still hold power today.

1. Jesus Meets Us in Our Pain with Tenderness

Grief has a way of narrowing our world. It clouds our vision, numbs our senses, and can make even the clearest truth hard to see. Mary Magdalene stood outside the tomb, tears blurring her eyes, her heart so heavy with sorrow that she couldn’t recognize the risen Jesus—though he was standing just steps away.

That’s what pain does. It disorients us. It makes it hard to imagine that healing is possible or that joy could ever return. But notice what Jesus didn’t do: He didn’t correct her or tell her to pull it together. He didn’t offer a sermon. He simply said her name—”Mary.” And in that moment of tender familiarity, the fog lifted. Her eyes opened. Her heart awakened to hope.

Jesus meets us like that, too. He comes quietly, without pressure or performance. He doesn’t rush us through sorrow or demand strength we don’t have. He meets us right where we are—with a voice that’s personal, familiar, and full of grace.

If you’re walking through grief right now—whether from loss, disappointment, or a hope deferred—Jesus is near. He knows how to find you in the fog. He knows your name. And he knows exactly how to speak to your heart.

2. Jesus Invites Our Doubts Without Shame

Thomas had questions—honest, aching, deeply human questions—and he wasn’t willing to settle for secondhand faith or borrowed conviction. He needed to see for himself, to touch the evidence with his own hands. Some might call that doubt. But Jesus didn’t see it as weakness. He saw it as a moment worth showing up for.

When Jesus appeared again, he went straight to Thomas—not to shame him, but to meet him. He didn’t scold him for not believing sooner. He didn’t say, “You should know better.” Instead, he simply extended his hands and said, “Come close. Touch the scars. See for yourself.”

It’s easy to think that faith means having all the answers or never wrestling with uncertainty. But what if the opposite is true? What if real faith isn’t the absence of questions but the courage to bring them to Jesus?

Jesus welcomes the doubter. He honors the seeker. He makes room for those who are still sorting it out. So if you’re struggling to believe right now—if your heart is full of questions or your trust has taken a hit—you’re not disqualified. You’re exactly the kind of person Jesus draws near to.

3. Jesus Restores Our Failures with Grace

Peter had failed, and he felt it deep in his bones. The shame of denying Jesus not once, but three times, weighed heavy on him. So he did what many of us do when we feel like we’ve messed everything up—he went backward. Back to what was familiar. Back to fishing. It’s human instinct: when we don’t know how to move forward, we retreat to the last place we felt safe or sure.

But Jesus didn’t leave him there.

He came looking for Peter—not with a lecture, but with breakfast. On the shore that morning, Jesus lit a fire, prepared a meal, and asked one simple, soul-piercing question: “Do you love Me?” He asked it three times—not to rub salt in the wound, but to rewrite the story. One question for every denial. One opportunity for every regret. It was a conversation not of condemnation but of restoration.

Jesus doesn’t pretend our failures didn’t happen. He doesn’t erase our past; he redeems it. He takes our lowest moments and weaves them into a story of grace, a story that says, “You’re not done. You’re not disqualified. Come sit with me.”

If you’re carrying shame today—if there’s a part of your story you think puts you on the outside—hear this: Jesus is already on the shore. He’s not waiting for you to fix yourself. He’s simply asking you to come close. To answer his question. And to trust that your story isn’t over. Not by a long shot.

The Resurrection Is Personal

These stories aren’t just about Mary, Thomas, and Peter. They’re about us.

Jesus meets us in our pain.
He welcomes our doubts.
He restores us in our failure.

This is what resurrection looks like. Not just a stone rolled away, but hearts made whole. Not just a moment in history, but a movement of hope that continues today.

As you head into this week, I want to leave you with a simple invitation—three ways you can lean into the resurrection story in your own life:

First, be honest with God. Tell him where it hurts. Talk to him about your questions, your fears, even your regrets. He already knows, and he’s not nervous about any of it. You don’t have to clean things up first—just come as you are.

Second, slow down enough to hear him. You may not hear him call your name out loud like Mary did, but the Holy Spirit still speaks—through Scripture, through a quiet moment in worship, through a conversation you didn’t see coming. Make some space this week to pay attention.

And third, respond. When you sense Jesus drawing near—don’t rush past it. Don’t shrug it off. That stirring in your heart, that word of encouragement, that nudge to pray or forgive or trust again—that’s him. Lean in.

Because the resurrection isn’t just something Jesus did. It’s something he’s doing—right now. He’s still calling names. Still welcoming questions. Still restoring stories.

And yes—he’s pursuing you, too.

I love being your pastor,

Brady

As we head into Holy Week, I want to pause and invite you to take a breath.

There’s a little book in the Old Testament—Joel—that speaks right into this moment. It’s not long, but it packs a punch. Joel helps us prepare our hearts for what this next week really means. And his message is this: God is ready to move in your life, but he’s not going to fight for space. He wants you to make room; that’s the invitation of Holy Week.

What Joel Reminds Us

Joel was a thoughtful prophet. He didn’t come swinging with lists of what everyone was doing wrong, instead, pointing out that something was off. Something was broken. And his call wasn’t to just act more religious; it was to come back to God with an undivided heart.

It’s a message that hits home still today.

Joel’s words remind us that God isn’t after surface-level religion. He’s after real, honest, heart-level relationship, the kind that says, “Lord, I’m tired of carrying this. I need you to help me here.”

And even the warnings in Joel aren’t meant to scare us. They’re there because God loves us. Like any good parent, he gives us heads-up when we’re drifting into danger, not to condemn us, but to protect us … to draw us back.

That’s what Holy Week is for—coming back. Making room again.

What Real Repentance Looks Like

One of the most powerful lines in Joel is this: “Rend your heart, not your garments.” In other words, we aren’t to just go through the motions or try to look spiritual. He wants us to be honest with him. To be completely and totally real.

Here’s what that might look like this week:

• Bring your whole heart to God—not just the parts you think he wants.
• Choose humility. You don’t have to have it all together!
• Stop hiding. God sees it all anyway, and he’s still full of grace.

Real repentance isn’t about guilt trips. It’s about making space for healing, restoration, and freedom.

What God Does in Response

Here’s the good news: when we make space for him, he comes.

Joel prophesied that God would pour out his Spirit on all people—men, women, young, old, rich, poor, a promise that came to life in Acts 2 at Pentecost. And it’s still happening today.

God is still in the business of breaking down walls—between generations, between social classes, between people who think they’re too far gone. The Holy Spirit unites us. Fills us. Leads us.

But here’s the thing: the Spirit doesn’t compete with our clutter. He doesn’t force his way into a heart that’s already packed full. Again: we have to make room.

A Challenge for This Week

As we enter Holy Week, I want to leave you with a challenge—something to actually do.

First, ask yourself:

• Am I just going through the motions, or do I really want to meet with God this week?
• Is there any part of my life I’m keeping closed off from him?
• What would it look like to open that space up?

And then, I want to challenge you to do four things:

1. Open your heart to God. Not just a little—fully. Give him access to everything.
2. Confess what needs to be confessed. Don’t carry guilt or shame into Easter weekend. Let it go.
3. Participate fully. Be present in Holy Week. Show up expecting to encounter Jesus—not just at church, but in your home, your drive, your quiet moments.
4. Welcome the Spirit’s work. Ask him to move. Then slow down long enough to listen.

Let’s be people who don’t just talk about resurrection—but who actually live like it’s possible.

Because it is.

There is nothing so lost that God can’t restore it. Not a year. Not a relationship. Not a heart.

If you’ll make room for him—he’ll come.

He always does.

I love being your pastor—

Brady