We live in a world that has mastered distractions but lost its capacity for wonder. A world that trains us to scroll past glory, to treat the sacred as familiar and to speak God’s name without trembling in His presence. We are busy, informed and stimulated but too often untouched and unchanged. Marked by Glory is a journey into holiness, not as our moral achievement, but as the result of encounter. It’s an invitation to behold the Holy One — to recover reverence, awaken awe and allow God’s presence to leave its mark on our lives.
Throughout 2025, God has been at work rooting and grounding us more deeply in Himself. What He’s formed in us this year was not incidental—it was essential to becoming fruitful and flourishing people in the year ahead. On this final Sunday of 2025, we pause to look back—not to linger, but to prepare ourselves for the way forward. In a rapidly changing world, God’s answer is a rapidly maturing Church—one rooted in Christ, grounded in love and ready to bear lasting fruit.
So much of life is spent chasing the shallow happiness of this world—moments that fade, applause that ends, a feeling that’s temporary. But God’s joy is different. Deep, unshakable, and eternal, it breaks into the ordinary, tired, frustrated parts of our lives and whispers — I am here. True joy has come. Not a happiness that depends on paychecks, bonuses, vacations, or new things, but a joy that carries us, keeps us, and shines in our darkest moments.
Advent celebrates the first coming of Jesus and we celebrate with great expectation His return.Jesus has not left us without what we need. He left us with His peace, not the fragile circumstance driven kind of peace that the world offers. His peace is unlike any other. It stays, guards, sustains, and can carry you through the most difficult times. It's a deep preserving, enduring, life-giving peace that can only come from a relationship with Jesus.
As we enter this season of Advent, let us remember that God doesn’t want our hope to be in a Christmas tree or a beautifully wrapped gift, or in our government, our business or even in our own ingenuity. But our Hope should be in His Son, Jesus and his ultimate return. And that seed of hope can bring forth life in every barren place in our lives.
We're going through a tough social and political moment full of economic instability, polarization, and hatred (the valley). We must go back to Christian first principles, center Christ in our public witness, and seek justice and righteousness in order to go through faithfully. We can't depend on the ways of the Left or the Right, we must glorify God through our response to this moment.
There are moments when God calls us to stretch—beyond what’s easy, familiar, or comfortable—into His greater purposes for us. And it’s in those stretching seasons we realize: somewhere along the way, we’ve gone dull. We’ve grown tired. We’ve lost the edge we used to carry. But what feels lost to us is never lost to God. He calls us to recover what’s slipped, what’s been buried, what we’ve mishandled—to return to His work with renewed focus and fresh fire. And as the darkness of our world grows louder and more blatant, God is calling His people to rise—sharp, ready, and fully committed to His Kingdom. He’s restoring our cutting edge.
Our allegiance to Christ shapes how we live, work and engage in a culture
that is driven by greed, fear, and self. We live in the profound truth that gives us both
our identity and purpose; we are citizens of the Kingdom of God and of the world. Our
dual citizenship may seem to be a contradiction, but in fact it is a calling. We live in the
tension of the values of Christ and the seduction of the world. Through the power of
God, we walk with integrity, generosity, justice and compassion considering “the other”
as we balance both worlds.
The spiritual battle is real — but it’s not what it seems. Behind every cultural divide, political argument and personal wound lies a deeper battle for our hearts and loyalties. Our enemy isn’t flesh and blood; it’s the deceiver who feeds fear, pride, and polarization until we start fighting the wrong battle for the wrong kingdom. But the Lamb has shown us a better way — a way of truth-telling, love and power under the cross. God is commissioning us to live as witnesses of that Kingdom — to wage peace, not by force or fear, but by the faithful way of the Lamb who has already overcome.
Winning the war within means dying to our flesh daily—putting the flesh to death to discern the voice and leading of the Spirit—ushering in the shalom of God to and through us.
We may have been born again, but that doesn’t mean we’ve learned how to win the war within. We may have followed Jesus for years, but that doesn’t mean we’ve grasped the key to Christian maturity. We can be gifted, but that doesn’t mean we’re seasoned; active in ministry, but that doesn’t automatically mean mastery over self. The Holy Spirit doesn’t just want to use us—He wants to form us, until Christ’s life becomes the life that leads us. And this is how we finally win the war within—not by striving harder or serving more, but by surrendering deeper to the Spirit who transforms us from the inside out.
The flesh is not just our weakness—it’s our willfulness. When it rules, it reshapes our desires, fetters our freedom and wars against the Spirit’s work of ushering in peace. This battle isn’t fought out in the streets; the war is waged in the soul. The flesh deceives us, arguing that life works best when we sit on the throne. But every time the flesh rules, peace dies—first in our hearts, then in our relationships — with people, places and things. The only way we overcome is to live life surrendering to He who has overcome the world.
Every day the world is shaping us — with screens, schedules, slogans, and algorithms whispering, “Buy this, chase this, be this.” We think we’re free, but our loves are being trained; we think we are choosing, but our choices are being choreographed. Before we know it, we are more shaped by our feeds than our faith, more discipled by Netflix and podcasts than by Jesus. But there’s another way — the greater love of the Father. His love frees us from restlessness, reshapes our desires, and makes us whole. We are being shaped by love — the false loves of this world, or the Father’s love that makes us whole and free.
We live in a time when the battle is no longer hidden — anxiety, violence, division, and deception press on every side. From the classroom to the boardroom, from our homes to our headlines, blows are aimed at the very place we think, hope, and believe. This fight is not against flesh and blood but against powers and principalities that seek to steal peace, distort truth, and destroy identity. In this moment, we dare not step into the fray uncovered. We must reach for a salvation that shields our minds, a word that becomes our weapon, and prayer that breathes heaven’s strength into our earthly battles. This is not the work of one generation or one culture alone, but the call of the whole body of Christ, young and old, every tribe and tongue — to stand firm together covered from head to toe.
We’re living in a day when it feels like the very air is thick with — fear, division, and pressure coming at us from every direction. And the battle isn’t only out there; it rages inside us too, with voices of doubt, anger, and discouragement. Just like the Roman soldier couldn’t survive without his shield, none of us can face today unprotected. What scripture calls the shield of faith is God giving us covering, courage, and strength. And when we lift it together, faith doesn’t just guard our lives — it becomes a fortress darkness can’t conquer.
Every day, invisible powers are attempting to dress us — how we think, how we react, how we love, and what we fear. And often, without even noticing, we step into our day wearing their lies — clothed in worries, armored in self-protection and self-promotion. But there’s another way to dress. God offers His armor—not for conquering people, but for standing firm in a world of shifting truths and manufactured fads. Dressing for the invisible war isn’t just for protection; it’s the daily practice of becoming who we really are in Christ.
We go about our day — commuting, checking email, social media, debating over social issues — while an unseen enemy infiltrates our minds, shapes our desires, and rewires our beliefs. This isn’t loud, obvious war. This war is subtle. And before it takes our peace, our joy and our purpose, it takes our attention. We are living in the midst of a spiritual war — not against people, as much as it’s against powers. It’s a war of ideologies, affections, and allegiances — and if we don’t wake up to it, we’ll be destroyed by it.
We live in a fallen evil world. Because of sin, the natural drift of the current of this world is downward. If we’re honest, the darkness and evil isn’t just out there; we feel it in us from time to time too. The natural response is to resort to our own resources and efforts to make it — work harder, go to more therapy, be nicer, change schools or find new friends. All of these things may be appropriate, but without the wind of the Spirit it just leads to futility and exhaustion. We need to be filled with the Sprit. We need to be intoxicated Christians.
In Mark 4:35–41, the disciples were caught in a storm they couldn’t handle, but Jesus was in the boat with them. What overwhelmed them was silenced by the One who has power over the wind and waves. Jesus is more than able to speak peace into the storms of your life. No matter how fierce it gets, Jesus is about to calm every storm because He’s not sitting idly by—He’s in your boat.
God can do all things and works through us to fulfill His purposes. Too often, we hold back because we think we lack what’s needed. In Acts 3:1–8, Peter met a lame beggar and, in faith, trusted God to meet his need — and He did. Money can help, but it’s not always the answer. God asks us to be available, to trust Him, and to believe He has already given us enough to serve others