This devotional is the final installment in our Hope Week devotional series—following Jesus' journey from the gates of Jerusalem, to the cross, to the hope of the empty tomb.

Today, let's reflect on the events of Easter Sunday—the day that changed everything.

As a kid, I loved Easter, but it meant different things back then. As I reflect on the resurrection now, though, it has a whole new meaning. It stands as the ultimate demonstration of Christ’s deity and power, including His victory over death. It proves that God keeps His promises and gives us hope that we can trust Him. And it shows why Christianity differs from every other religion on the planet—because its founder, Jesus, is not bound by a physical tomb. He is alive!

In the last few chapters of Luke, we move from heartbreak and hopelessness during the crucifixion, to a day of silence and mourning, to a miracle that brings joy and excitement. The chapter opens at the tomb as the women come to prepare Jesus’ body for final burial. But as they approach the tomb, they see the stone has been rolled away, and looking into the tomb, they see it empty. Suddenly, they are met by angelic messengers, who ask this question: “Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen” (vv. 5-6).

This is also a question for us today. Too often, we look for life in success, approval, comfort, relationships, bank accounts—dead places that will leave us empty. But in the angels’ declaration—“He is not here, but has risen”—we find a hope with Jesus that will not run dry. This statement confirms that Jesus is everything He said He was and that He did everything He said He would do, including rising from the dead.

The women at the tomb were still mourning, but their mourning turned to celebration and excitement over the risen Lord. Jesus Himself appeared to two disciples that same day on the road to Emmaus, who were still processing the events of the crucifixion. He walked and talked with them and eventually revealed to them that it was Him—and that He was indeed alive. Jesus went on to appear to over 500 people in a 40-day period, proving undeniably that He was the Son of God. This one event gave birth to a movement, hope to a lost world, and set the stage for His return.

Without the reality of the resurrection, Jesus was just an ordinary man. In fact, He would be worse than an ordinary man, because He would have been a liar, a deceiver, and a false prophet—all things the religious leaders believed. Instead, the resurrection is the cornerstone of the Christian faith, and this event changed everything. Jesus left no way to deny that the tomb was empty—and that He is risen. He is risen indeed!

When you think about the resurrection, what emotions do you feel, and what do they reveal about your relationship with Jesus?

At Crossroads, Easter is more than a day. It's the culmination of a week of expectation—as we follow Jesus from the gates of Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, to the cross on Good Friday, to His triumphant resurrection that first Easter morning.

As we wrap up Hope Week together this Sunday, we invite you to come with open hearts—ready to remember the depth of Jesus’ sacrifice and the power of His resurrection. Easter may be over after today, but the hope we have in Him never fades.

This devotional is the seventh installment in our Hope Week devotional series—following Jesus' journey from the gates of Jerusalem, to the cross, to the hope of the empty tomb. Join us every day from March 29 to April 5 to re-experience the story of His sacrifice and the magnitude of His love!

Today, let's reflect on the events of Holy Saturday—the day of waiting.

“On the Sabbath they rested according to the commandment” (v. 56).

How many times have we rushed past this verse? I know I have.

At this point, Jesus had already been killed. His body had been taken down from the cross, wrapped in linen, and laid in the tomb. Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus had taken care of Jesus’ body. The women closest to Jesus followed, taking note of where He was laid, before they prepared spices and ointments.

And then…they rested.

Rest? Now—after all they’ve just witnessed? The Messiah has been crucified. The one they believed was the hope of Israel now lies silent behind a stone. Heaven feels quiet. God’s promises seem shattered.

And yet Luke tells us they rested “according to the commandment.”

They obeyed. They kept Sabbath—even when it felt like God had failed.

This is one of the most understated acts of faith in the Gospels. They did not yet know Sunday was coming. We read the story with resurrection hindsight, but they lived it in real time—with confusion, grief, and unanswered questions weighing on their hearts. And still—they rested.

Sabbath, at its core, is an act of trust. It says, “God is working even when I am not.” It declares that the world is upheld not by my anxiety, but by His sovereignty.

In verse 55, we see the women preparing spices. They made plans. They intended to return and finish the work needed to take care of Jesus’ body. Then, they stopped and obeyed the clear words they had from God—even while everything else felt unclear.

That is faith.

Easter is not only about resurrection power. It is also about trust and patience, that God is working even when we can’t see. There is always a Saturday between crucifixion and victory. A space where heaven may seem silent. A day where obedience feels ordinary and hope feels fragile.

Holy Saturday reminds us of this: God continues to work even in the moments of silence.

Because while they rested, the greatest reversal in human history was underway. Sin was defeated, death was disarmed, and the grave was being emptied—before anyone knew it.

There are seasons when prayers feel unanswered, outcomes feel uncertain, and resurrection just doesn’t seem possible. This passage teaches us what to do in that space.

Rest. Obey. Trust the character of God more than the current moment.

They rested because of a command, but we rest because of a Person.

The tomb was not the end. Sunday was already on its way. This Holy Saturday, let’s rest and wait for what we know God will do tomorrow.

Where in your life might you be waiting for a resurrection? How can you practice resting and trusting God’s timing in that waiting?

At Crossroads, Easter is more than a day. It's the culmination of a week of expectation—as we follow Jesus from the gates of Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, to the cross on Good Friday, to His triumphant resurrection that first Easter morning.

Explore our Hope Week services and resources via the button below. We invite you to experience the sorrow, victory, and joy of the salvation story like never before!

This devotional is the sixth installment in our Hope Week devotional series—following Jesus' journey from the gates of Jerusalem, to the cross, to the hope of the empty tomb. Join us every day from March 29 to April 5 to re-experience the story of His sacrifice and the magnitude of His love!

Today, let's reflect on the events of Good Friday—when Jesus was tried and crucified.

We often think of loyalty as stable, but it can change quickly and sometimes easily. Maybe you’ve observed this with professional sports teams, where some fans stay loyal and committed whether their team is winning or losing—while other fans shift to whichever team is most successful. We also see this with brands that build loyal followings—until another brand releases a better product, and suddenly, people flock to it instead.

When Jesus entered Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, he was met with crowds recognizing him as King and asking Him to save them. Now, on Good Friday, He faces crowds of people whose sentiment and loyalty toward Him has completely changed. Jesus is arrested and found innocent of a crime in the eyes of Pilate and Herod—and still the crowds cry out, “Crucify Him!”

This is not the first time the Israelites responding this way in Scripture. There are numerous stories where God’s people change their minds and fail to be loyal to Him. The good news is that God remains faithful even when His people do not. Jesus willingly bore the cup of suffering that He did not deserve. The apostle Paul would later say in 2 Corinthians 5:21 that “God made Him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in Him we might become the righteousness of God.” The suffering and ridicule that Jesus endured had a purpose.

As I reflect on the events of Good Friday this year, I continue to return to the moment found in Luke 23:28. As Jesus is being led to be crucified, He notices some women who are mourning and turns to speak to them. I was struck by Jesus’ ability to notice the grief and pain around Him during His own painful experience.

I believe this is good news for you and me. When we find ourselves in seasons of grief or pain, we can remember and believe that Jesus sees us and does not move past us—but toward us.

As Jesus works to reveal the Father, He demonstrates the great lengths God would go to reconcile His creation. As we remember the suffering that Jesus endured, let us focus on the fact that it is by His wounds that we are healed and by His death that we live. May we not be like the crowds who did not remain loyal to Jesus but instead confess our need for His forgiveness.

This Good Friday, I want to invite you to pause and pray this prayer with me:

Today, Jesus, I remember the great price that you paid that I may be forgiven of my sins and reconciled to the Father. Reveal to me the areas of my life where my loyalty to you has wavered based on my circumstances. I confess my continual need for your forgiveness and thank you for your faithfulness when I come up short and for the way you see me in my seasons of pain. Amen.

In what seasons of your life have you noticed your loyalty to Jesus slip? How might reflecting on this example of His faithfulness shape your response today?

At Crossroads, Easter is more than a day. It's the culmination of a week of expectation—as we follow Jesus from the gates of Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, to the cross on Good Friday, to His triumphant resurrection that first Easter morning.

Explore our Hope Week services and resources via the button below. We invite you to experience the sorrow, victory, and joy of the salvation story like never before!

This devotional is the fifth installment in our Hope Week devotional series—following Jesus' journey from the gates of Jerusalem, to the cross, to the hope of the empty tomb. Join us every day from March 29 to April 5 to re-experience the story of His sacrifice and the magnitude of His love!

Today, let's reflect on the events of Maundy Thursday—from the Last Supper to Judas' betrayal in the Garden.

The night before the crucifixion is filled with moments that reveal the self-giving, humble heart of God, as Jesus prepares to embrace suffering.

During the event we call the Last Supper, Jesus gathers with His disciples to celebrate the Passover meal. It was a remembrance of their deliverance out of Egypt and slavery. But on this night, Jesus transforms it into something new. He takes bread and a cup of wine and offers them as symbols of His body and blood, which are given for us (vv. 17-21). In doing this, He establishes the Lord’s Supper as a reminder that He died for us and delivered us from sin and death. Every time we take communion, we remember His love and look forward to His return.

But the evening was not without sorrow, as Jesus reveals that one of His own would betray Him (John 13:18-21). Simon Peter nudges John to ask Jesus who He’s referring to. Instead of answering the question directly, though, Jesus acts by handing a dipped piece of bread to Judas. He doesn’t expose or shame the betrayer; He tenderly offers the bread to Judas in an act of friendship. It was an invitation to keep that relationship going. Still, Judas chose betrayal. In that moment, Satan enters him and Jesus tells him to act quickly (John 13:27). Judas leaves to set things in motion.

This is a moment that can remind us of our own heartbreaks, the pain of watching someone we love walk away or make choices that wound us. And yet Jesus’ compassion challenges us to keep our hearts open, even when others disappoint or fail us.

Following the supper, Jesus and the disciples leave to pray in the Garden of Gethsemane. Jesus experiences agony there as the weight of human sin falls on Him. While His closeness with the Father revealed the full offensiveness of sin, He also felt the depth of the brokenness it brings. Overwhelmed by the burden, He asks the Father to take the cup of suffering from Him. But even in His anguish, Jesus surrenders completely when He says, “Not my will, but yours be done” (v. 42). As He prays, an angel from heaven appears to him and strengthens Him—fortifying His spirit so that He would not waver in completing the work of the cross. Even in deep sorrow, Jesus chose obedience grounded in love.

Finally, as the night draws dark, Judas returns—this time with temple guards, officials, and a Roman detachment, made up of 500 or more trained, fully armed soldiers. They’re prepared for a violent uprising—but after Judas identifies Him with a kiss, a warped symbol of affection, Jesus steps forward and tells the guards He will go with them without resistance.

In these moments—compassion towards Judas, agony in the garden, and humility in the face of betrayal—we see the depth of Jesus’ love. He walked toward suffering with a heart fully surrendered to the Father and fully poured out for us. This Maundy Thursday, let us be in awe of the depth of His compassion, which compelled Him to the cross.

Where in your life is Jesus inviting you to choose humble, self-giving love—especially toward someone who may be difficult to serve or understand? What would it look like to follow His example?

At Crossroads, Easter is more than a day. It's the culmination of a week of expectation—as we follow Jesus from the gates of Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, to the cross on Good Friday, to His triumphant resurrection that first Easter morning.

Explore our Hope Week services and resources via the button below. We invite you to experience the sorrow, victory, and joy of the salvation story like never before!

This devotional is the fourth installment in our Hope Week devotional series—following Jesus' journey from the gates of Jerusalem, to the cross, to the hope of the empty tomb. Join us every day from March 29 to April 5 to re-experience the story of His sacrifice and the magnitude of His love!

Today, let's reflect on the events of Holy Wednesday—the day of silence.

This past year, I realized I do a lot of talking to God, but very little listening. My prayers were full—full of requests, full of ideas, and full of urgency. I would ask for wisdom, direction, clarity. But then I would say “amen” and move on, never pausing to listen for His answer.

It wasn’t rebellion that drove me forward. It was restlessness. I was uncomfortable with quiet, which left me with very little practice listening to God.

So, I started practicing something simultaneously simple and difficult. I started sitting silently before the Lord for a few minutes each morning. No agenda. No distractions. Just God, me, and a desire to hear His voice clearly.

At first, it felt unproductive, because I love getting things done. My mind wandered. I checked the clock. I rehearsed conversations.

But slowly, I noticed something. The silence was not empty. God was speaking. And when I finally silenced all the distractions, God revealed to me how much I wanted control and how rarely I trusted Him enough to wait on His plans, answers, and solutions.

Holy Wednesday invites us into that same kind of silence.

By this point in the Gospel accounts, Jesus has concluded His public teaching. The confrontations are over. The parables have been told. Now, quietly, behind closed doors, the chief priests are plotting (v. 2), Judas is making arrangements in secret (Luke 22:3-6), and decisions are being made that will lead to the cross.

And what is Jesus doing?

He’s not panicking. He’s not defending Himself. He’s not disrupting Judas’ plot. Instead, He is silent, waiting on the Father’s will.

Holy Wednesday feels quiet in the Gospels, but it is really a quiet before the storm. Yet Jesus remains composed, His focus fixed on the Father.

There is a profound strength in Jesus’ silence. He embodies Isaiah’s prophecy: “He opened not his mouth” (Isaiah 53:7). His quiet is not weakness. It is surrender. He trusts the Father enough to yield to what is coming. Before Gethsemane, the trials, or the cross, there is this day of stillness where obedience is settling in.

For us, Holy Wednesday is an invitation to stop filling every space with noise, to resist the urge to control outcomes, and to sit before the Lord long enough for our minds to quiet down. By being silent before God, we are actually saying, “Father, I don’t need to rush ahead. I want Your will more than my plans.”

Emotionally, this can feel unsettling. Silence exposes our fears, doubts, and anxieties. Yet if we remain there with God, that silence becomes spiritually transformative. In the quiet, we discover that God is already at work. His purposes are not threatened by hidden plots or uncertain outcomes.

Holy Wednesday teaches us that some of God’s most important movements happen in the stillness. And sometimes the holiest thing we can do is simply be still long enough to hear Him.

How do you typically respond in situations where you lack control? How might adopting Jesus’ approach of silence before the Lord change your perspective?

At Crossroads, Easter is more than a day. It's the culmination of a week of expectation—as we follow Jesus from the gates of Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, to the cross on Good Friday, to His triumphant resurrection that first Easter morning.

Explore our Hope Week services and resources via the button below. We invite you to experience the sorrow, victory, and joy of the salvation story like never before!

This devotional is the third installment in our Hope Week devotional series—following Jesus' journey from the gates of Jerusalem, to the cross, to the hope of the empty tomb. Join us every day from March 29 to April 5 to re-experience the story of His sacrifice and the magnitude of His love!

Today, let's reflect on the events of Holy Tuesday—Jesus' final teachings at the temple.

“Boldness.” As followers of Jesus, we hear that word a lot—especially when it comes to sharing the Gospel. But I’ll be the first to admit it scares me. Sometimes, I even question its effectiveness. How can I speak the full, undiluted truth when I have no idea where the other person is coming from, what wounds or convictions they carry, what will truly speak to their heart?

Boldness can feel fruitless in a world where subjective truth rules. So why did Jesus model it so consistently throughout His ministry? Despite hardened hearts, misguided zeal, and the rejection of His authority, why did He continue to teach and warn?

In today’s passage, we find Jesus preaching in the temple in Jerusalem, shortly after cleansing it. He’s teaching fully aware of what awaits Him in this city. But fear doesn’t stop Him from exercising His authority and sharing the Gospel—even as His religious opposition approaches.

The Pharisees open Luke 20 with a demand: “Tell us by what authority you are doing these things.” (v. 2). While the question may sound pointless to us, they’re actually attempting to lay a trap. Jesus is teaching during Passover and in the temple, where their authority is highest. If He answered their question plainly, claiming to be the Messiah, they would have had grounds to accuse Him.

But this is where Jesus sees into their hearts—and responds. “Tell me: John’s baptism—was it from heaven, or of human origin?” (v. 4). The Pharisees can’t answer for fear of the people, and so Jesus denies them an answer as well.

This happens two more times in Luke 20—when a group of spies ask whether it’s right to pay taxes (vv. 20-26) and when the Sadducees, who don’t believe in the resurrection, rely on their own understanding to try to stump Jesus (vv. 27-39). Yet each time, He reads their hearts and responds with the knowledge of heaven, silencing them.

In this portion of our passage, we see two forms of boldness: one motivated by pride and malice, and the other by the authority of the Lord. The religious leaders speak boldly to protect their status and preserve their influence. Jesus, however, speaks boldly to reveal truth and extend mercy. His boldness prevails not just because He knows more than they do, but because He exposes the source of their arguments: pride. As C.S. Lewis puts it, pride is a “complete anti-God state of mind,” one that tempts us to value and elevate ourselves over others—and worse, over God.

Boldness, therefore, is about more than sharing the truth we think we know. It requires a Christ-like desire to extend mercy and glorify the Father. It also requires humility—like the poor widow displays at the start of Luke 21. Jesus commends her for the wholehearted gift, demonstrating a trust in God that trumps her self-concern.

Still, our human nature can make finding the balance between speaking truth and doing so in love difficult. So this Holy Tuesday, my prayer for you (and me!) is that we’d see this week as a chance to fill our hearts with the Gospel. Because if we want to be bold, we need to be absent of the self—and full of His truth.

How does Jesus’ boldness in Luke 20—sharing the Gospel with authority yet humility—challenge the way you approach boldness in your own life?

At Crossroads, Easter is more than a day. It's the culmination of a week of expectation—as we follow Jesus from the gates of Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, to the cross on Good Friday, to His triumphant resurrection that first Easter morning.

Explore our Hope Week services and resources via the button below. We invite you to experience the sorrow, victory, and joy of the salvation story like never before!

This devotional is the second installment in our Hope Week devotional series—following Jesus' journey from the gates of Jerusalem, to the cross, to the hope of the empty tomb. Join us every day from March 29 to April 5 to re-experience the story of His sacrifice and the magnitude of His love!

Today, let's reflect on the events of Holy Monday—the day Jesus cleansed the temple.

In Luke 19, after Jesus has entered Jerusalem, we witness Him walk straight into the temple. No hesitation. No small talk. Nothing distracting Him. He immediately begins to drive people out after seeing what the house of God had become: noisy, transactional, and self-serving. “My house shall be a house of prayer,” He declares, burning with fierce devotion (v. 46). Jesus is consumed with protecting what is sacred.

When I sit with these verses, I don’t just see a dramatic scene playing out in the temple courts, but instead Jesus bringing order to His people and what their hearts are consumed with. I can’t help but ask myself: “What would happen if Jesus walked into the temple of my heart today?”

Scripture makes it clear that through Christ, I am now a dwelling place of God. I am called to be a house of prayer and devotion to God. But this past year, He showed me the tables I’d set up in my heart—tables that needed flipping.

I realized that sometimes, my temple becomes crowded with productivity, as I measure my worth by how much I accomplish. I let busyness and distractions fill spaces meant for stillness with God—and before I know it, even worship becomes about performance.

In the same way, the merchants in the temple justified their work, believing they were helping people fulfill “religious requirements.” It looked spiritual and practical—but ultimately swapped profit for prayer.

Here’s what confronts me: In John 2, Jesus does not politely rearrange the temple—He overturns it. In my life, cleansing has rarely felt gentle at first. It has looked like conviction that interrupts comfort, prayers going “unanswered” because God is after something deeper than my desires, and the Holy Spirit whispering “that doesn’t belong here anymore.”

When Jesus cleanses, it feels disruptive because He is restoring the original design. In John 2:19, Jesus says to the Jews, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.” He was not talking about the building, but His body. The ultimate cleaning would not come through overturned tables, but through His broken body and an empty tomb. The cleansing of my heart did not cost me—it cost Him. Every time He brought my sin to light, it was not condemnation; it was His love refusing to let me settle for less than Him.

After the cleansing in Luke 19, the clutter is removed and Jesus teaches daily in the temple, His voice filling the new space. This Holy Monday, may we desire a cleansing that is not merely a moment of emotional repentance but a sustained habit, where the heart cleared of noise so His Word can echo freely. May we not be interested in God’s partial access, but in Him coming in to fully expose what we’ve normalized and scatter the sins we’ve clung to. May we not just desire a clean temple—but one where He dwells.

What things have you been clinging to that Jesus would “overturn”? How could this cleansing make more room for your relationship with Him?

At Crossroads, Easter is more than a day. It's the culmination of a week of expectation—as we follow Jesus from the gates of Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, to the cross on Good Friday, to His triumphant resurrection that first Easter morning.

Explore our Hope Week services and resources via the button below. We invite you to experience the sorrow, victory, and joy of the salvation story like never before!

This devotional is the first installment in our Hope Week devotional series—following Jesus' journey from the gates of Jerusalem, to the cross, to the hope of the empty tomb. Join us every day from March 29 to April 5 to re-experience the story of His sacrifice and the magnitude of His love!

Today, let's reflect on the events of Palm Sunday—Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem.

Turmoil, confusion, anger, expectation, panic! These are words you can find almost daily in the news, describing the emotions coming out of many parts of our world today.

They are also words that could describe the area in and around the city of Jerusalem in March or April of 33 AD.

Imagine around 2 million people in Jerusalem—usually a city of 70,000. Word had spread about a man who could heal the lame, cure the sick, make the blind see, drive out demons, and bring the dead back to life—and who now entered the city (John 12:12)! This man had told those who had witnessed His works not to tell others—yet the news traveled fast, and people clamored to see Him do miracles. They had been told about a Messiah who will come and save His people. Could this be Him? Would the Jews finally be free from Roman oppression?

As the crowd gathered to witness and worship His entrance into Jerusalem, His disciples joined in (vv. 37-38). These were the men Jesus had chosen to follow Him, men who had waited three years to see how He would claim His kingship. They had witnessed miraculous things and heard teaching unlike anything before—yet, even after Jesus’ warnings (Luke 9:21–22; 9:43–45; 18:31–33), the significance of the moment remained beyond their understanding. They must have felt a mixture of excitement and fear as the crowd packed in—and the religious leaders took notice.

The Pharisees, who were used to being at the center of attention during the celebration of Passover, now saw an outsider capturing the attention and adoration of the people. They responded with anger and outrage over this “blasphemy.” How could a carpenter from Nazareth claim to be God? In John 12:19, their frustration is evident as they exclaim, “Look, the world has gone after Him!” This man must be stopped!

But then, we come to the source of the commotion. In the middle of the chaos, there was Jesus. He was not on a warrior’s steed, but on a donkey. He fully embraced the worship of the people, even telling the Pharisees that if the people did not worship Him, the rocks themselves would cry out (vv. 39-40)! With His eyes fixed on the path ordained before His humble birth, He rode on, knowing what lay ahead for Him in Jerusalem. He knew His identity as a prophet, priest, and king. He was the Lion from the tribe of Judah and the sacrificial Lamb of God. He was the peace in the middle of a storm—embracing the worship now and the challenge to come.

What emotions do you feel this Easter season? Are you wrapped up in the tension of the culture and the confusion of the people—or the grace and compassion of our Lord?

Jesus is still our peace that passes all understanding. He calls us to focus on Him, not the chaos. This Palm Sunday, let’s adopt His posture of stillness in the storm—and prepare our hearts for His sacrifice in the days to come.

What emotional storms in your life make it hard to focus on Christ? How could you find comfort in His peace instead?

At Crossroads, Easter is more than a day. It's the culmination of a week of expectation—as we follow Jesus from the gates of Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, to the cross on Good Friday, to His triumphant resurrection that first Easter morning.

Explore our Hope Week services and resources via the button below. We invite you to experience the sorrow, victory, and joy of the salvation story like never before!

This devotional comes from our Advent 2025 booklet, In Quiet Expectation.

If you weren't able to pick up a copy, don't worry! We're sharing our devotionals here to help you reflect on the meaning of the season—the arrival of Jesus Christ, whose very birth began to minister to those who encountered Him.

Join us in celebrating Advent by lighting the fifth candle for Christ.

I’ve been a worship leader since I was a boy, and one of my favorite Christmas carols I got to lead every Christmas season is “Joy to the World.” What if I told you that it wasn’t written just for Christmas?

Isaac Watts wrote it as a reflection on Psalm 98, which celebrates the Lord’s coming to judge and rule the world with righteousness. In other words, “Joy to the World” was written about Jesus’ second coming, not His birth.

And yet, how fitting it is that we sing it every Christmas. This prophetic psalm, once sung by those waiting for the Messiah to come, has become a song for those of us who have received Him and now wait for Him to come again.

Here’s the good news: As we celebrate Christ’s first coming on this Christmas Eve, we join a story that stretches from ancient Israel to today. The same God who kept His promise then will keep it again. The baby in the manger is also the King who will return.

So tonight, as we remember the Messiah who came near, we share in the hope of the believers of old: that He will bring peace, that He will conquer sin and darkness, and that He will wipe away every fear and doubt.

“Let every heart prepare Him room.” The King has come, and He will come again!

We invite you to celebrate the Good News and hope of Christmas with us at one of our many Christmas Eve Services, both today and tomorrow! We'll conclude this time of quiet expectation in worship and fellowship, with hearts and eyes turned toward the One we've been awaiting: Jesus.

This devotional comes from our Advent 2025 booklet, In Quiet Expectation.

If you weren't able to pick up a copy, don't worry! We're sharing our devotionals here to help you reflect on the meaning of the season—the arrival of Jesus Christ, whose very birth began to minister to those who encountered Him.

Join us in celebrating Advent by lighting the fourth candle of Love.

“Your name, Lord, endures forever, your renown, Lord, through all generations” (v. 13).

Psalm 135 reminds us that love isn’t just something God feels—it’s who He is. The psalmist is looking back on generations of God’s people and sees a pattern. When they were helpless, He rescued them. When they forgot, He remembered. When they wandered, He drew them back.

His love is active, faithful, and personal.

The same God who parted the Red Sea and spoke through the prophets stepped into the world as a child—love incarnate. While the world around us chases after things that promise joy but can’t deliver, especially during this season, we’re invited to remember that the love of God still seeks, still speaks, and still saves.

The love we are reminded of during Advent isn’t sentimental, but steady. It moves toward us when we’re at our worst and holds fast when everything else feels uncertain.

Advent reminds us of His first coming and the promises He fulfilled long ago—and it points us to what’s still to come. He is still actively pursuing us, even when we aren’t pursuing Him. He alone is the One who truly satisfies.

Let us rest in His love this Advent, confident that the One who came still comes—and that His love will not let us go.

Where have you been looking for a love that can’t last—and how would it change your life to rest again in the love of Christ?

This devotional comes from our Advent 2025 booklet, In Quiet Expectation.

If you weren't able to pick up a copy, don't worry! We're sharing our devotionals here to help you reflect on the meaning of the season—the arrival of Jesus Christ, whose very birth began to minister to those who encountered Him.

Join us in celebrating Advent by lighting the third candle of Joy.

“Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and uphold me with a willing spirit” (v. 12, ESV). This verse embodies the joy that I have always found in Jesus Christ since I became a believer.

But despite that joy and my heartfelt desire to serve the Lord, I still find it difficult at times to have a willing spirit to do all that I am called to do. How crazy is that, when I know with all my heart that if I am obedient to His will, my life will be so much better lived?

In Psalm 51, we find David longing for the “joy of salvation,” but that joy finds its ultimate fulfillment in Jesus. Through Christ’s birth, life, and resurrection, salvation is not just a hope—it’s a living reality. Jesus said this Himself: “I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete” (John 15:11).

David also prayed, “grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me” (v. 12, NIV). When Jesus came to earth, He not only brought salvation but promised the Holy Spirit to dwell in believers, empowering us to live with renewed hearts and willing spirits.

That’s the ongoing gift of Christmas—God’s Spirit sustaining us with joy and obedience. At Christmas, we celebrate that joy entering the world—not a fleeting happiness, but the deep, restoring joy of God dwelling with us, Emmanuel.

How does remembering that your joy comes from the salvation and strength of Jesus—not your circumstances—change the way you approach challenges and daily life?

This devotional comes from our Advent 2025 booklet, In Quiet Expectation.

If you weren't able to pick up a copy, don't worry! We're sharing our devotionals here to help you reflect on the meaning of the season—the arrival of Jesus Christ, whose very birth began to minister to those who encountered Him.

Join us in celebrating Advent by lighting the second candle of Peace.

In Psalm 62, David writes, “Truly my soul finds rest in God; my salvation comes from Him” (v. 1). These words are like deep breaths breathed slowly by someone seeking to calm their mind amid the chaos of life.

As the psalm continues, we see that David is writing during a season of life filled with great challenges and uncertainty. The Christmas season can often feel that way. Calendars fill up quickly, and before we know it, we’re overwhelmed with too many things to get done in a small window of time. Expenses pile up, and we begin to stress about if we have overextended ourselves financially. Gatherings with extended family, who know exactly how to push your buttons, can lead to anxiety and stress.

This Advent season, we are invited to look to Jesus to experience the rest for our soul that David writes about in Psalm 62. Sometimes this looks like us asking God to give us peace during busy schedules and uncertain times.

In addition to that, this year, I invite you to look through the Gospels to see what disciplines and practices Jesus modeled that lead to a peace-filled life. Jesus consistently withdrew from crowds and spent time alone praying to God.

This Christmas, may we learn from Jesus, the Prince of Peace, to slow down, breathe deeply, and find moments where we make David’s words in Psalm 62 our own: “Find rest, my soul, in God alone” (v. 5).

What is one practice you can begin over the following weeks to slow down and find moments of solitude with God?

This devotional comes from our Advent 2025 booklet, In Quiet Expectation.

If you weren't able to pick up a copy, don't worry! We're sharing our devotionals here to help you reflect on the meaning of the season—the arrival of Jesus Christ, whose very birth began to minister to those who encountered Him.

Join us in celebrating Advent by lighting the first candle of Hope.

Biblical scholars may not know exactly what David was facing when he wrote this psalm, but it’s clear he was experiencing trouble. And yet, instead of letting fear take root, David lifted his eyes to the Lord, his stronghold. David’s posture is one of worship, patience, and hope as he declares, “Be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord” (v. 14).

For many of us, waiting for the Lord is difficult. As time passes, our hearts can slip into despair, anger, and doubt as we question where God is.

Israel knew that kind of waiting well. Four hundred years stand between the end of the Old Testament and Jesus’ birth—a long silence that tested their faith. And when the One they had been waiting for—the Messiah—finally arrived, many didn’t recognize Him because He didn’t reflect what they had envisioned: a powerful, militaristic figure who would save them from their earthly oppressors.

But there’s also hope in this. Jesus did not come to address a mere moment in time, to make things right for the Israelites for a few decades or centuries. He came to bring His kingdom into the world, offering all people salvation and spiritual reunion with God. God’s plan surpassed every expectation. And it all started with a miraculous yet humble birth, in a stable in Bethlehem.

I invite you to start your Advent season remembering the hope that comes in waiting for the Lord. David wrote, “I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living” (v. 13). God’s timing may not align with our expectations, but His plans are always greater than what we could imagine.

In what ways might your expectations of how God should work be preventing you from seeing how He is working—and how might letting go of those expectations help you hope in the Lord?