Tag: family

  • The Heart of Prayer (Psalm 34)

    The Heart of Prayer (Psalm 34)

    Psalm 34 says, I sought the Lord and he heard me, and delivered me from all my fears. But here’s what I notice: it doesn’t say the fears went away. It doesn’t say suddenly everything was fine. It says I sought. I called out. God heard me.

    And then it says he delivered me from my fears. Not that the scary things stopped happening. But that I stopped being ruled by them. I stopped letting them decide who I am and how I live.

    We’ve got people in our congregation dealing with health scares. Dealing with family stuff that pulls you in a hundred directions. Dealing with uncertainty about jobs, about futures, about whether God’s actually listening. And I want you to know that seeking doesn’t mean you have all the answers. It just means you’re turning toward God instead of away. And God hears that. God meets you there. In the not-knowing. In the fear. In the place where you’re finally willing to admit you can’t do this alone.


    A reflection by Rev. MaryGean Cope

  • The Heart of Prayer (Matthew 6)

    The Heart of Prayer (Matthew 6)

    I’ve been thinking about the young people we’ve known through Project Transformation, and what it means to see someone really come alive when they realize they can do something. When they realize they have a gift. Not that they were born with it perfect, but that it can be developed. That they can grow.

    That’s what mentorship is. It’s not telling somebody you’re special. It’s showing them the door and saying, go. Try. Fail. Try again. And I’ll be here.

    What these young people learned wasn’t just about ministry or church. It was about themselves. That they have something to offer. That their voice matters. That God can actually use them. And you know what? Once you know that about yourself, you can’t unknow it. It changes everything. The question becomes, what will I do with this? Where will I go? Who will I become? That’s when following Jesus stops being something your church wants and becomes something you want.


    A reflection by Rev. MaryGean Cope

  • The Heart of Prayer

    The Heart of Prayer

    My granddaddy always said, keep your own counsel. Don’t tell your business all over the place. And I lived by that for years without even realizing I had. See, that’s how it works. Nobody has to say it out loud. We just absorb it from the air around us. We pick it up from what people do. From what gets punished. From what gets praised.

    I didn’t know until I was older that I had written this script for myself: don’t ever be wrong. Don’t ever say something incorrect. Because when you say something wrong, people shame you. They correct you. They look at you like you’re stupid. So I decided to just not talk.

    We all have these scripts. Your mama always told you something. Your granddaddy said something. And maybe it was good advice. Maybe it was broken advice. But it’s running in your head now, telling you who you are and how you should be. The thing is, Jesus looks at all of that and says, who is my mother? Who are my brothers? He’s saying that living God’s way matters more than living by the rules we inherited. More than staying silent. More than being perfect. Your story starts here. In God. In what God wants for you. Not in what your family decided.


    A reflection by Rev. MaryGean Cope

  • The Power of Love

    The Power of Love

    This morning we had children’s time. We sang “Jesus Loves Me,” “This Little Light of Mine,” “Do Lord.” Songs I sang when I was little and still love.

    One of those songs asks God: “Do Lord, oh do Lord, remember me.” And I asked the children: Do you think God could ever forget you? The answer is no. But we ask anyway.

    We ask God to remember us. We ask God to see us. Even though we know he does.

    When we sing—whether it’s with children down front or in the pews—our whole body gets involved in praising and worshiping God. Something shifts inside us when we sing together. It’s not just about the words. It’s about the unity. It’s about being part of something bigger.

    We bring the light of Christ into the church. And at the end of the service, we carry it out. Because that means we’re taking the light of Christ out into the world. We’re letting it shine for other people.

    So carry your light. Let it shine. Remember that God remembers you. And take that light with you when you leave this place. Take it into your homes, your workplaces, your communities. That’s what the light is for.


    A reflection by Rev. MaryGean Cope

  • The Heart of Prayer

    The Heart of Prayer

    I want to talk about something coming up that matters to us as a church. Vacation Bible school. It’s not just a week of activities. It’s a whole-church production. And I need all of us.

    Can you help with snacks? Can you be a group leader? Can you teach at one of the rotation stations? Can you be a greeter or a prayer? Can you help with setup, decoration, cleanup?

    All of us.

    And then there’s something else coming this summer. Glen Lake Camp. If you haven’t been there in the last couple of decades, you might be surprised at what’s changed. But it’s a wonderful place for families to go together, for elementary kids, junior high, high school—all ages can go.

    Here’s what I’ve said for years: A week at church camp is the equivalent of a full year of Sunday school. Because of the intensity of the Christian community there. Because of the learning that happens in that concentrated time. Because kids experience what it means to be part of the body of Christ when they’re away together, worshiping together, learning together, being challenged together.

    So I want us to start thinking about it now. Praying about it. And making sure we’re able to provide scholarship assistance for families who need it. Because every child should have the chance to experience what it means to belong to something bigger than themselves.


    A reflection by Rev. MaryGean Cope

  • The Table of Grace

    The Table of Grace

    When I was little, the pastor would say during communion: “Drink all of this.” And I thought that meant drain the cup. I was so committed to getting every last drop. Some of the boys in the children’s choir with me had the same idea—they really went to town on those little cups.

    But “drink all of this” doesn’t mean gulp it down. It means all of you, drink some.

    Today we talk about the communion of saints. And that’s not just about the bread and juice. It’s about being in communion with each other. When God looks at the church, God doesn’t see Baptist, Methodist, Lutheran, Presbyterian. God sees one church.

    I watched it happen at the food bank when all of us—different churches, different denominations—worked side by side. Nobody could tell us apart. We were just people working together, part of one body.

    That’s what the communion of saints means. All of us who know Jesus. Past and present and future. Those who have gone before. Those here now. Those still coming. All of us, one. Forgiven, transformed, together. That’s the communion. That’s what we belong to.


    A reflection by Rev. MaryGean Cope

  • The Spirit Among Us (Matthew 3)

    The Spirit Among Us (Matthew 3)

    When Jesus went to John to be baptized, John knew something was off. Jesus didn’t need to be baptized. Jesus had no sins to repent of. But Jesus said to him: I need to do this. I need to fulfill all righteousness. I need to show you how.

    And when Jesus came up out of the water, something amazing happened. The heavens opened. The Holy Spirit came down like a dove. And a voice from heaven said: This is my son.

    All three persons of the Trinity, right there at once. The Father speaking, the Son being baptized, the Holy Spirit descending. It’s one of the few places in Scripture where you see all three together.

    The dove image stuck because that’s what people could understand. How do you describe the Holy Spirit? It’s invisible. But it came like a dove—gentle, pure, unmistakable. And that’s why we use the dove for the Holy Spirit even now. Because at that moment, people needed to know the Holy Spirit is real. Tangible. Present. Coming upon Jesus to anoint him for the work ahead.


    A reflection by Rev. MaryGean Cope