Script

This week is Thanksgiving—a time when we’re supposed to feel surrounded, grateful, connected, full of warmth, full of food…and maybe even full of regret for that third slice of pumpkin pie.

But for a lot of people—maybe more than we realize—Thanksgiving doesn’t feel like togetherness.

It feels like pressure.

It feels like comparison.

And for some, it feels… really lonely.

You can be in a room full of people, passing mashed potatoes and making small talk about football, and still feel completely disconnected. You can sit at a table with family and feel like a stranger. You can be active in a church, involved in ministry, attending every Sunday—and still feel unseen.

Loneliness doesn’t care about the calendar. It doesn’t skip Thanksgiving.

It doesn’t take time off for the holidays.

In fact, it often gets louder.

And here’s what’s wild: we are the most digitally connected generation in history… and yet the most relationally disconnected. We have more access to people than ever, but fewer real friendships. More communication, less community. More noise, less belonging.

So today, as the holidays roll in, I want to talk about something that’s quietly shaping the hearts of so many believers right now: the epidemic of loneliness, the ache of disconnection, and why the Christian vision of community still matters in 2025.

Whether Thanksgiving fills your house with people… or reminds you of the people you wish were there… this episode is for you.

Because you weren’t designed to walk alone.

You weren’t meant to be your own source of strength.

And the God who created you is still calling you into a community that can hold you, shape you, and walk with you—especially in seasons when connection feels hard.

So let’s talk about why that matters.

Let’s talk about what we can do about it.

And let’s talk about how God meets us in the quiet places where we feel most alone.

Let’s get into it.

SECTION 1 — The Silent Epidemic of Loneliness

Loneliness is one of those things we don’t always notice in our lives until it suddenly shows up like an unexpected guest—usually at the most inconvenient moment, like when you’re trying to hold everything together and someone cheerfully asks, “Hey, how are you doing?” and you realize… you don’t actually know.

And here’s the thing: loneliness is not just a feeling.

It’s not just a Friday night with too much time on your hands.

Loneliness is spiritual. It shapes the heart. It disciples you in subtle ways you don’t realize until your joy feels thinner, your patience is shorter, and your hope feels quieter.

This is why I’m calling loneliness a silent epidemic.

Because unlike other struggles—anxiety, depression, burnout—loneliness rarely announces itself. It whispers. It slowly erodes your sense of belonging. It convinces you that you’re the only one who feels this way, even though statistically… everyone feels this way.

Let’s zoom out for a moment.

Research over the last two years has shown that the United States is experiencing record-high levels of loneliness. Not just among young adults, or seniors, or people who work remotely. But across every age group. Every demographic. Every stage of life. Even people who describe themselves as “connected” feel disconnected.

And honestly, this resonates with me.

Loneliness doesn’t always look like sitting in a dark room by yourself. Sometimes it looks like standing in a crowd feeling like no one truly knows you. Sometimes it looks like having a full calendar but an empty heart. Sometimes it looks like being surrounded by noise, but feeling like you don’t have a safe place to actually speak.

And—and this is a painful truth—it often hits Christians the hardest.

Because we have this expectation:

“I go to church. I’m around people. I should feel connected.”

But attendance is not the same thing as belonging.

We can sit near people every week and still not know them.

We can worship next to someone for years and never share a meal.

We can say “Hey, how are you?” in the hallway and never stay long enough to hear the real answer.

And that gap—the space between proximity and connection—is where loneliness thrives.

But here’s the deeper layer: loneliness isn’t just emotional or social. It’s actually theological. God looks at Adam in the Garden—perfect creation, perfect environment, perfect communion with God Himself—and says, “It is not good for man to be alone.”

Think about that.

Adam had zero sin, zero shame, zero relational baggage.

He had actual face-to-face friendship with God.

He had purpose. Work. Meaning.

And God still said: “This isn’t enough.”

Why?

Because God wired us for human connection.

He designed us to be known by people, not just acknowledged by them.

He created us to be supported, carried, encouraged, sharpened, challenged, and loved—not in isolation, but in community.

And yet…

We live in a world that rewards independence.

A world that celebrates self-sufficiency.

A world that sees needing others as weakness.

We’re encouraged to hustle, to push harder, to figure things out on our own.

And the result?

A culture full of people who look strong but feel empty.

People who keep their struggles silent because they feel like burdens.

People who aren’t “anti-community”—they’re just tired of trying to find it.

But loneliness is not something you can out-hustle.

You can’t podcast your way out of it.

You can’t self-improve your way out of it.

You can’t distract your way out of it with busyness or productivity or Netflix or even ministry.

Loneliness needs connection.

It needs presence.

It needs other people.

And yet, here’s the irony:

The more lonely we feel, the more ashamed we feel about being lonely.

The more disconnected we become, the more convinced we are that we don’t belong.

The more isolated we are, the harder it becomes to take the first step out.

This is why isolation is one of the enemy’s most effective strategies.

Because isolation leads to insecurity.

Insecurity leads to confusion.

Confusion leads to believing lies about ourselves and about God.

And once we believe those lies—

“People don’t care about me,”

“I’m too much work,”

“It’s safer to stay quiet,”

“Everyone else already has their people,”

—we start to withdraw.

Just a little at first.

Then more.

Then more.

Before long, our relationships become shallow, our spiritual life becomes dry, and we start wondering why we’re losing joy we used to have.

But loneliness isn’t the end of the story.

It’s a signal.

A reminder.

A holy nudge that we were made for something more than isolation.

Loneliness tells us:

“You were built for community.

You were designed for people.

And you don’t have to walk alone.”

And that right there—that truth—is where healing begins.

Which is why in the next section, we’re going to talk about why church community still matters in 2025. Because in a world filled with digital substitutes and surface-level connection, the people of God are called to something deeper… something real… something that heals the soul.

Let’s go there next.

SECTION 2 — Why Church Community Still Matters in 2025

If loneliness is the epidemic—and it is—then church community is God’s antidote. Not “church attendance.” Not “church programming.” Not “church events.” Community. Relationships. Spiritual family.

And I know, in 2025, that phrase—church community—can feel a little loaded. Because for some people, those words bring up memories of deep belonging and healing. For others, those words bring up disappointment, hurt, or the slow ache of feeling unnoticed in a place that was supposed to feel like home.

So let’s just acknowledge that tension up front.

Community is beautiful… until it’s complicated.

It’s healing… until it’s messy.

It’s powerful… until it requires something from us.

But even with all of that, even with the imperfections and the misunderstandings and the awkward post-service conversations where you’re trying to remember someone’s name while scanning their face for clues—community is still God’s plan A. There is no plan B.

And the reason why is actually incredibly simple: you cannot follow Jesus alone.

You can try.

You can read Scripture by yourself.

You can pray by yourself.

You can grow in knowledge by yourself.

But you cannot grow in love by yourself.

You cannot practice patience, forgiveness, sacrifice, compassion, encouragement, burden-bearing, confession, accountability, hospitality, or unity… by yourself.

The New Testament is full of “one another” commands—over 50 of them. They’re not “solo Christian” commands. They assume you have people in your life who are close enough to annoy you, bless you, challenge you, and shape you.

It’s no coincidence that Hebrews 10 says,

“Let us consider how to stir one another up to love and good works… not neglecting to meet together, as some are in the habit of doing.”

That verse isn’t about attendance. It’s about formation.

It’s about who you are becoming.

Because who you are becoming is always influenced by who you are walking with.

And this is what makes church community so essential in 2025: we live in a world that is discipling us toward isolation.

Think about it.

Our technology is personalized.

Our entertainment is personalized.

Our news is personalized.

Our grocery shopping can be delivered in an hour so we never have to see another human again.

We can watch worship services online, read devotionals on our phones, consume sermons through podcasts, and honestly… never actually interact with other believers face to face.

None of those things are wrong.

But none of those things can replace people.

You can listen to the best preaching on earth and still feel alone.

You can follow all your favorite pastors on Instagram and still feel spiritually empty.

You can consume Christian content all day long and still not experience Christian community.

Why?

Because content can inform you…

But community transforms you.

And here’s the tricky part: the cultural momentum is pulling us in the opposite direction of fellowship. Post-pandemic rhythms still linger. Many Christians got used to “church in pajamas,” the convenience of live-streaming, and the comfort of participation without vulnerability.

But the early church didn’t thrive because they shared a theological statement.

They thrived because they shared a life.

Acts 2 says they:

• ate together
• prayed together
• worshiped together
• shared possessions
• carried each other’s burdens

That’s not a service.

That’s a family.

And that’s what people are craving in 2025, even if they don’t have the language for it. We want to be known. We want to be seen. We want someone to notice when we’re not okay. We want someone to see through the “I’m fine” we give in the church lobby.

We want a place where we don’t have to pretend.

Let’s be honest: the church doesn’t always get this right.

Sometimes people fall through the cracks.

Sometimes relationships are awkward.

Sometimes we expect the church to magically connect us with people without us taking any steps of our own.

But even with the imperfections, God uses the church to heal loneliness in ways nothing else can.

Because the church isn’t built on shared hobbies.

It’s not built on life stage.

It’s not built on political agreement.

It’s not built on personality types or social circles or comfort levels.

It’s built on a Person.

Jesus.

The One who brings together people who would never otherwise share a table.

And that’s what makes church so powerful.

Church isn’t the place where you go to look put together.

Church is the place where you go to be held together.

So why does church community still matter in 2025?

Because the world is designing us for solitude…

But God is designing us for family.

Because loneliness is forming us in ways we don’t always recognize…

But community forms us in the image of Christ.

Because distraction is pulling us away from people…

But the Gospel pulls us toward people.

And because, even if we don’t say it out loud, all of us are longing for connection that’s real, faithful, and safe.

And that’s where hospitality comes in.

Because you can’t wait for community to find you.

Sometimes, the path out of loneliness begins with a simple invitation—a small act of welcome that pushes back darkness more than you realize.

So in the next section, we’re going to talk about hospitality… and why it isn’t just a nice idea—it’s actually a form of spiritual warfare.

SECTION 3 — Hospitality as Spiritual Warfare

When we hear the word hospitality, a lot of us picture something instantly stressful: perfectly clean houses, matching plates, candles that smell like pumpkin spice or cedarwood, and a lasagna that somehow finished cooking exactly on time. That’s the version Instagram gives us. HGTV gives us. Pinterest gives us.

But that’s not the version Scripture gives us.

Biblical hospitality is not about presentation.

It’s not about impressing people.

It’s not even about hosting dinner.

Hospitality—real, Jesus-shaped hospitality—is about making space in your life where someone else can breathe.

It’s about welcome.

Invitation.

Presence.

Belonging.

And here’s the part we don’t talk about enough:

Hospitality is spiritual warfare.

It pushes back darkness.

It disrupts isolation.

It breaks lies the enemy whispers in people’s minds—lies like “no one cares,” “you don’t matter,” “you’re on your own.”

Because when you open your door, or your table, or simply your time… you’re opening a spiritual window where God can work.

Let’s zoom out again for a moment.

We live in a culture that has made relationships disposable and connection convenient-but-shallow. We scroll past people. We text instead of call. We comment instead of converse. We like instead of listen.

And the enemy loves it.

Because the enemy thrives in isolation.

He thrives when people stay in their heads.

He thrives when Christians believe they have nothing to offer.

He thrives when we’re convinced that hospitality is for “certain people”—extroverts, good cooks, homemakers with matching throw pillows.

But in Scripture, hospitality is not a personality trait.

It’s a command.

Romans 12:13 says, “Practice hospitality.”

Hebrews 13:2 says, “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers.”

1 Peter 4:9 says, “Show hospitality to one another without grumbling.”

In the early church, hospitality wasn't a bonus activity. It was part of their spiritual identity. It’s how they survived. How they grew. How they declared, “You don’t have to do life alone.”

Hospitality isn’t something you are.

It’s something you practice.

It’s choosing to make room in your schedule, in your home, in your conversations, in your table—for someone who needs to feel welcome.

And here’s the best part:

Hospitality doesn’t need to be complicated.

You don’t need a curated home.

You don’t need a five-course meal.

You don’t need a spotless living room.

Sometimes hospitality is:

• “Hey, do you want to grab a coffee?”
• “Can you sit with me at church?”
• “Want to come over for pizza while the kids run wild?”
• “Let’s go on a walk and catch up.”
• “You can come as you are—I’m not fancy either.”

Hospitality is less about what you serve and more about what you see.

Do you see the person who feels out of place?

Do you notice the person trying to quietly slip out of church?

Do you invite the person who always looks busy but is probably deeply lonely?

Now here’s where hospitality becomes spiritual warfare:

1. Hospitality attacks isolation.

Isolation grows in silence. Hospitality interrupts that silence with presence.

2. Hospitality disarms shame.

Shame says, “You’re too messy to be loved.”

Hospitality says, “Come in anyway.”

3. Hospitality breaks the lie of insignificance.

When you invite someone, you declare, “You matter enough for my time.”

4. Hospitality cultivates humility.

You don’t need to be impressive—you need to be available.

5. Hospitality trains your heart to love like Jesus.

Jesus didn’t build walls—He built tables.

He didn’t retreat into perfection—He stepped into people’s imperfect lives.

He didn’t create guest lists—He invited outsiders, misfits, sinners, doubters, and wanderers.

Think about the meals Jesus had:

• Tax collectors
• Outsiders
• Pharisees
• Fishermen
• Crowds
• His closest friends
• People who would betray Him

Jesus treated meals like ministry.

He used the table as a teaching moment, a healing moment, a moment of grace, a moment of truth.

What if we reclaimed that?

What if our dining tables became spiritual battlegrounds?

What if our living rooms became places where loneliness goes to die?

What if our schedules had enough margin to make space for people who desperately need a moment of belonging?

Hospitality doesn’t just bless the person receiving it—it transforms the person offering it.

Because something powerful happens in your own heart when you open your life to others:

• Your empathy grows.
• Your compassion deepens.
• Your self-centeredness loosens.
• Your faith stretches.

Honestly, hospitality might be one of the most underrated spiritual disciplines of our time.

And here’s the part that gives so much hope:

You don’t need to be fully healed to help someone else feel welcome.

You don’t need to be perfectly connected to build connection.

You don’t need to feel like an expert in community to say, “Hey, do you want to join me?”

Sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is the smallest thing you can do.

Because hospitality isn’t about having a perfect space.

It’s about creating space.

And when you create space, God can fill it.

But hospitality, as powerful as it is, isn’t the whole picture. Because once you invite people in—once those relationships start forming—they need something deeper to survive. Something that keeps them strong. Something that keeps them from falling apart.

And that’s where we’re headed next.

SECTION 4 — How to Build Relationships That Don’t Fall Apart

So let’s say you’ve taken those brave first steps. You’ve started showing up. You’ve invited someone for coffee. You’ve opened your home—or your time or your table—in a small but meaningful way. That’s incredible.

But here’s the next challenge:

How do you actually build relationships that last?

Not just friendly hellos in the church lobby.

Not just casual small talk about weather or football or Costco rotisserie chicken.

I mean friendships that have weight. Friendships with roots. Friendships that don’t get blown over by the first strong wind.

Because relationships are beautiful… but they can also be fragile.

They require maintenance, like anything valuable.

And most friendships don’t end in a dramatic explosion—they slowly drift apart from neglect.

So how do we build relationships that don’t fall apart, especially in a world where everyone’s busy, distracted, or low-key afraid of vulnerability?

I want to give you five practices—five relational muscles—that can strengthen the connections you’re building. They’re not complicated. But they are intentional.

And if you work these muscles, they will shape your friendships, your community, and your spiritual life in powerful ways.

1. Go First

This might be the hardest one.

Someone has to go first.

Someone has to send the text.

Someone has to initiate the invite.

Someone has to break the ice and say, “Hey, want to grab a meal?” or “Do you want to sit with us?”

The myth is that everyone else already has their people.

The truth is that most people are waiting for someone to notice them.

When you go first, you’re communicating two things:

• “You matter.”
• “I’m not afraid to take the first step.”

2. Consistency Beats Intensity

We think relationships grow through big moments: deep talks, emotional confessions, meaningful experiences.

And yes, those matter.

But the real strength of a relationship is built through small, steady, ordinary moments repeated over time.

A five-minute check-in.

A short conversation after church.

A weekly meal.

A text that simply says, “Thinking about you today.”

Sitting next to the same people each Sunday.

Serving alongside someone in a ministry team.

Tiny, consistent connections create relational glue.

We don’t need dramatic intensity.

We need faithful consistency.

3. Healthy Vulnerability (Not the Oversharing Olympics)

Vulnerability is essential to real friendship—but vulnerability is not dumping every detail of your trauma on a stranger in the church hallway. That’s not vulnerability; that’s emotional turbulence.

Healthy vulnerability means:

• Sharing honestly, not recklessly
• Opening up bit by bit
• Letting people see the real you
• Allowing others to care for you
• Asking for prayer for real things, not just vague things

Most of us are waiting for the other person to open up first.

But if neither of you takes that step… the relationship never deepens.

Vulnerability is the bridge between acquaintance and friendship.

And here’s the thing: vulnerability invites vulnerability.

When you open up in a healthy way, it gives the other person permission to do the same.

4. Forgiveness in Practice

If you have people in your life, you will have reasons to forgive.

It’s not “if.” It’s “when.”

Someone is going to disappoint you.

Someone is going to forget something.

Someone is going to say the wrong thing.

Someone is going to hurt you without meaning to.

Relationships fall apart not because conflict happens—but because forgiveness doesn’t.

Forgiveness isn’t pretending the hurt didn’t happen.

It’s choosing to release the right to keep score.

Biblical community requires:

• assuming the best
• giving grace
• having conversations instead of assumptions
• choosing reconciliation over withdrawal

Jesus didn’t say, “Love one another, unless it’s inconvenient.”

He said, “As I have loved you, love one another.”

And His love is patient.

Gentle.

Long-suffering.

Quick to forgive.

Quick to restore.

5. Make Space for Differences

This may be one of the most important relational skills in 2025.

Community is not built on sameness.

It’s built on grace.

We all have quirks.

We all have blind spots.

We all have different backgrounds, personalities, preferences, rhythms, and social batteries.

Differences don’t ruin relationships—unmanaged expectations do.

Strong friendships have room for:

• different opinions
• different schedules
• different temperaments
• different life stages
• different levels of emotional energy

When we expect people to be just like us, we set ourselves up for frustration.

But when we create space for people to be who they actually are, we create relationships that can breathe.

Because unity is not uniformity.

Unity is choosing connection over comfort.

You don’t need perfect relational skills to build lasting friendships.

You don’t need to be extroverted.

You don’t need to be socially brilliant.

You don’t need to have all the time in the world.

You just need to be intentional.

Real community forms through small actions practiced over time:

• Initiate.
• Show up.
• Listen well.
• Share honestly.
• Forgive quickly.
• Make space for people to be different than you.

Do those things imperfectly but consistently… and relationships will grow.

And when we begin building friendships this way—friendships that are intentional, vulnerable, forgiving, and resilient—we start to experience something powerful:

Community stops being an abstract idea…

And it becomes a lived reality.

One that shapes our souls.

Which brings us to the last section: what community actually does to your heart, your spiritual life, and your walk with Jesus.

Let’s go there next.

SECTION 5 — What Community Actually Does to Your Soul

We’ve talked about loneliness.

We’ve talked about why church community still matters.

We’ve talked about hospitality and what it pushes back against.

And we’ve talked about how to build relationships that actually last.

But now I want to take us deeper—into the soul level of community.

Because community is not just something we participate in.

It’s something that forms us.

Shapes us.

Touches the parts of us that sermons, podcasts, and private devotions simply cannot reach.

You can learn a lot alone.

But you can only become like Jesus in community.

That’s a bold statement, but it’s true.

Because the fruits of the Spirit—love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control—are not solo accomplishments. They’re relational virtues. They grow in the soil of relationships.

You cannot develop patience without people.

You cannot learn forgiveness without offense.

You cannot practice gentleness without someone who needs gentleness.

You cannot embody kindness without someone to be kind to.

You cannot grow in love without someone sometimes being… let’s just say… “challenging.”

Spiritual fruit grows best in the friction of real relationships.

This is why Proverbs says, “As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another.”

It doesn’t say “polishes.”

It doesn’t say “softens.”

It says sharpens.

And iron only sharpens iron through contact.

Through pressure.

Through back-and-forth interaction.

This is the work community does in your life—often quietly, subtly, consistently, in ways you don’t even notice until you look back and realize you’re becoming someone different. Someone stronger. Someone softer. Someone more like Christ.

Community Gives You Encouragement When Your Strength Runs Out

This alone is worth the price of admission.

Galatians 6:2 says, “Carry one another’s burdens, and in this way you fulfill the law of Christ.”

Think about that.

The “law of Christ”—the heart of Jesus—is fulfilled when we help each other carry what we cannot carry alone.

Community reminds you that you don’t have to be strong all the time.

You don’t have to pretend.

You don’t have to fake joy or spiritual energy or motivation.

Sometimes someone else’s faith gets you through the week.

Sometimes someone else’s prayer holds you up.

Sometimes someone else’s presence becomes the strength you didn’t have.

Community Provides Protection When You’re Vulnerable

Scripture describes the enemy as a roaring lion seeking someone to devour.

Lions don’t go after the herd—they go after the isolated one.

When you’re alone, you’re more vulnerable:

• to lies
• to discouragement
• to temptation
• to shame
• to spiritual apathy
• to drifting from God without even realizing it

Community pulls you back into the herd.

It surrounds you.

It watches out for you.

It checks on you.

It reminds you of who you are and whose you are.

Isolation whispers, “You’re fine on your own.”

Community declares, “You don’t have to do this alone.”

And sometimes, that truth is what saves us.

Community Shapes Your Identity

One of the most powerful things about belonging is this:

Community helps you become the person God says you are.

When people speak encouragement into your life…

When they affirm the gifts they see in you…

When they remind you of what is true about God and about you…

Your identity becomes rooted in truth, not insecurity.

You cannot fully discover who you are by yourself.

God uses people—imperfect people—to reveal strengths you didn’t know you had and blind spots you didn’t know were there.

Community tells you:

• “You matter.”
• “You belong.”
• “You’re needed.”
• “You have purpose.”
• “We see God at work in you.”

Isolation never tells you those things.

Community Teaches You How to Love Like Jesus

This might be the greatest gift of all.

Jesus said, “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples—if you love one another.”

Not by your theology.

Not by your church attendance.

Not by your Christian content consumption.

Not by your ability to quote Scripture.

By your love.

You cannot fulfill that command alone.

You cannot love one another if there isn’t another.

Community becomes the training ground where love is practiced and sharpened:

• When someone disappoints you
• When you misunderstand each other
• When you choose grace instead of judgment
• When you celebrate each other’s wins
• When you stay committed through awkwardness
• When you show up even when it’s inconvenient

Love grows in the grit, not the comfort.

Community Reveals God’s Presence in a Tangible Way

This is one of the most sacred mysteries of Christian community.

Jesus said, “Where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.”

We experience Jesus in a unique way when we are together.

Not just intellectually—relationally.

Through others, you experience:

• His compassion
• His correction
• His kindness
• His encouragement
• His generosity
• His patience
• His forgiveness

There are moments when someone’s words feel like Jesus is speaking directly to your heart.

Moments when someone’s prayer feels like Jesus’ hand on your shoulder.

Moments when someone’s presence feels like Jesus saying, “I’m with you, even here.”

Community makes the invisible God visible through the presence of His people.

So what does community do to your soul?

It strengthens you.

It heals you.

It protects you.

It shapes you.

It grows you.

It pulls you closer to Jesus.

And it keeps you from walking through life alone.

Community isn’t a luxury—it’s a lifeline.

It’s one of the primary ways God forms us, loves us, and holds us.

And this is why, in a world full of loneliness and disconnection, Christian community still matters…

maybe now more than ever.

⭐ OUTRO

As we wrap up today, I want to speak directly to the person who feels lonely—even if no one around you knows it. The person who feels disconnected at church. The person who’s trying to follow Jesus but feels like you’re doing it from the outside looking in. The person who looks strong on the outside but feels unseen on the inside.

You are not broken because you’re lonely.

You are not “less spiritual” because you want connection.

You are not failing because you need people.

You’re human.

You’re made in the image of a relational God.

And the longing you feel for belonging—that ache, that desire for real community—is one of the clearest signs that God is inviting you into something deeper.

So here’s your challenge for this week—one small ripple:

Take one step toward connection.

Invite someone into your life.

Join that group you’ve been avoiding.

Ask someone to coffee.

Send the text.

Say yes to the invitation.

Show up even if you feel awkward.

Give hospitality even if your house isn’t perfect.

It doesn’t need to be dramatic—it just needs to be faithful.

Because God does big things with small steps.

He builds community out of tiny, ordinary, brave moments of openness and invitation.

And He meets us there.

Thanks for listening, and thanks for giving these conversations space in your life.

If this episode encouraged you, share it with someone who might need it.

And as always…

Small ripples can make a big impact—go make yours.