Growing Pains

The Jerusalem church was exploding. In a year or two, it went from about 120 believers to an estimated 20,000. That kind of growth doesn't happen without cracks showing up.

Here's the crack we see in Acts 6: Hellenistic Jewish widows were being overlooked in the daily food distribution. Native Hebrew-speaking widows were cared for. The others were not. That's a real problem and no one pretends otherwise.

But look at how it surfaced. Not as a direct complaint to the people who could fix it. It surfaced as murmuring — grumbling to neighbors instead of an honest word to the apostles.

Scripture treats that murmuring as sin. Not because the concern was invalid. Because of how it was handled. Left to fester, grumbling breeds division. It gives Satan a foothold.

The Apostles' Response

The apostles didn't get defensive. They didn't dismiss the complaint. They took responsibility and addressed it head-on.

They had the congregation select seven men — men of good reputation, full of the Spirit and wisdom — to oversee the distribution.

Here's something that stands out: all seven chosen came from the minority group. The very group that had been overlooked. Not because of a quota, rather because the apostles prayed and acted in good faith.

The result? The Word of God kept spreading. The number of disciples increased. A problem that could have split the church became the occasion for the church to grow even faster.

The Real Issue Isn't Growth. It's Grumbling.

Growth exposes what's already there. Every family, team, or church that grows fast will hit friction. That's not the danger.

The danger is what people do with the friction. Do they go around each other, or do they go to each other?

It's easier to vent to a friend than to talk to the person involved. Easier to carry a complaint than to raise it. But easier isn't better. What starts as a quiet grumble to one person becomes two people, then five, then a fracture nobody intended.

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July 7, 2026 • 2 Minute Read

Growing Pains: Acts 6:1-7

Growing Pains The Jerusalem church was exploding. In a year or two, it went from about 120 believers to an estimated 20,000. That kind of growth doesn't happen without cracks showing up. Here's the crack we see in Acts 6: Hellenistic Jewish widows were being overlooked in the daily food distribution. Native Hebrew-speaking widows were cared for. The others were not. That's a real problem and no one pretends otherwise. But look at how it surfaced. Not as a direct complaint to the people who could fix it. It surfaced as murmuring — grumbling to neighbors instead of an honest word to the apostles. Scripture treats that murmuring as sin. Not because the concern was invalid. Because of how it was handled. Left to fester, grumbling breeds division. It gives Satan a foothold. The Apostles' Response The apostles didn't get defensive. They didn't dismiss the complaint. They took responsibility and addressed it head-on. They had the congregation select seven men — men of good reputation, full of the Spirit and wisdom — to oversee the distribution. Here's something that stands out: all seven chosen came from the minority group. The very group that had been overlooked. Not because of a quota, rather because the apostles prayed and acted in good faith. The result? The Word of God kept spreading. The number of disciples increased. A problem that could have split the church became the occasion for the church to grow even faster. The Real Issue Isn't Growth. It's Grumbling. Growth exposes what's already there. Every family, team, or church that grows fast will hit friction. That's not the danger. The danger is what people do with the friction. Do they go around each other, or do they go to each other? It's easier to vent to a friend than to talk to the person involved. Easier to carry a complaint than to raise it. But easier isn't better. What starts as a quiet grumble to one person becomes two people, then five, then a fracture nobody intended.

Daniel Thomas

Lead Pastor

June 23, 2026 • 5 Minute Read

What Actually Makes a Community Holy

What Actually Makes a Community Holy Ask people to describe the perfect community and you'll hear the same words: unity, humility, integrity. We can picture it easily — a group that's honest, where nobody is climbing over anybody else, where everyone pulls in the same direction. The strange thing is how rarely we find it. Most of us can name a team or a church that almost had it, and just as quickly name what pulled it apart. In Acts 4:32–5:16, Luke does something braver than describe an ideal. He shows us a real community — one that genuinely had it, and one that nearly lost it from the inside. In the contrast between two stories, he tells us what holiness actually costs. One Heart and One Soul Luke's portrait is almost startling in its plainness. The early church was "of one heart and soul." They held everything in common. There was no needy person among them, because people sold land and houses so anyone in need was cared for. The engine underneath it was a conviction, not a policy: they believed their lives — and everything they owned — already belonged to God. Once you actually believe that, generosity stops being a sacrifice you grit your teeth through and becomes the natural posture of someone who was only ever holding things on loan. As Paul says in Colossians 1:16, all things were created through Christ and for Christ. If it's all His to begin with, open hands make sense. Barnabas embodies this. He sells a field and quietly brings the money to meet others' needs. No speech, no spotlight — just a man who has stopped clutching what was never ultimately his. The Appearance of Holiness Then comes the story we'd rather skip. Ananias and Sapphira also sell property, but they secretly keep back part of the price while presenting the gift as if it were the whole thing. Peter cuts to the real issue: the land was theirs to do with as they pleased. The sin wasn't keeping some money — it was the lie, the performance of a generosity they hadn't actually committed to. They wanted the appearance of holiness without the heart of it. Both fall dead, and a holy fear settles over the church. It's a hard passage, and the severity is the point. This wasn't a bookkeeping error; it was a community's first encounter with a particular rot — the impulse to look more surrendered than you are. Scripture takes that seriously precisely because it's so quiet and respectable. Achan's secret theft in Joshua 7 brings defeat on a whole nation. Even Moses, in Numbers 20, faces real consequences for failing to treat God as holy before the people. The pattern holds: secret sins fester. We tell ourselves no one is getting hurt, but a body can't carry an infection in one part and stay healthy everywhere else. Why Unity Is the Whole Point Why set these two stories side by side? The answer reaches back to something Jesus prayed the night before He died. In John 17, He asks that His followers would be one — so that the world will know the Father sent Him. Unity isn't a bonus on top of the church's mission; it's a large part of the witness itself. That reframes the threat. We assume the danger comes from outside — hostility, pressure, opposition. But Acts suggests the more lethal threat is internal: deception and self-interest quietly dissolving the one thing that makes the witness believable. Opposition tends to strengthen a unified community. Hidden self-interest eats it from within. The Mind of Christ Philippians 2 gives the alternative: the mind of Christ counts others as more important than yourself — not in theory, but with your actual time, energy, and resources. Jesus, who had every right to grasp, emptied Himself instead. The early church's open-handedness was that same mind working its way out into property deeds and shared meals. That's the call, and it's worth sitting with honestly: Full surrender to Christ — holding nothing back, not even the parts we'd rather keep quietly in reserve. Valuing others above ourselves — enough to actually spend something on them. One purpose — proclaiming Jesus, and refusing to fracture over non-essentials that were never worth dividing over. So a few honest questions to take home: Am I living as if I'm most important, or as if God is? Am I more focused on appearing holy than on actually being His? And who is one person I can encourage or serve this week? A holy community isn't built in grand gestures — it's built by one person choosing, this week, to hold something with open hands for someone else. It comes back to hope, healing, and purpose, and to the confession underneath it all: it's all about Him, all from Him, and all for Him.

Daniel Thomas

Lead Pastor

May 1, 2026 • 5 Minute Read

The Cornerstone: When Truth Collides With What We Want

Have you ever been so sure you were right… until Jesus gently (or not so gently) showed you otherwise? Luke 20:1–19 drops us right into one of those moments. It’s likely mid-week of Passion Week. Jesus has just disrupted the religious money-machine in the Temple, and the leaders are fuming. They march up to Him with a loaded question: “By what authority are You doing these things?” Rather than playing defense, Jesus flips the script: “John’s baptism—was it from heaven or human?” If they admit it was from God, they indict themselves for ignoring it. If they say “just human,” the people will revolt because they knew John was a prophet. So they punt: “We don’t know.” And Jesus moves on. Then He tells a story that lands like a thunderclap—a vineyard owner (God) sends servant after servant (the prophets) to receive what is rightfully His. Each messenger is beaten, insulted, or wounded. Finally the owner sends his beloved son (Jesus). The tenants kill him, hoping to take the whole vineyard. Jesus stares down the leaders and quotes Scripture: “The stone the builders rejected has become the cornerstone.” It’s a sobering picture: the people who should recognize God’s Son are the very ones rejecting Him. And if we’re honest, that’s not just their problem—it’s our temptation too. When Truth Is Inconvenient One thread ties this chapter together: resistance to inconvenient truth. The leaders wanted a Messiah who would confirm their narrative (Rome is the problem) rather than confront their hearts (sin is the problem). Jesus didn’t match their expectations, so they questioned His authority. How do we do the same? We love Jesus as Savior, but stall when He confronts our habits. We prefer the parts of Scripture that comfort us, and quietly mute the parts that correct us. We say “Lord, Lord,” but keep a few rooms of the house off-limits—money, resentment, sexuality, image, control. Jesus’ parable shows how resistance escalates. First it’s “not now,” then “not that,” then “absolutely not.” Over time, the heart hardens. Little “no’s” calcify into deep refusal. And yet—even here—God keeps sending messengers. Patience is built into the story. Grace keeps knocking. The Cornerstone and the Line of Your Life In the ancient world a cornerstone wasn’t decorative; it set the line for the whole structure. If you place that first stone even slightly askew, every subsequent stone takes the same error—and the building won’t stand. That’s the invitation of Luke 20: align everything to Jesus. Not to the crowd. Not to personal preference. Not to cultural pressure. Jesus is the fixed reference point—the Cornerstone. When He becomes the line: Hope grows because you’re standing on something that won’t move when life does. Healing comes because you stop editing the truth and start confessing it. Purpose emerges because your gifts, work, relationships, and decisions finally line up with why you were made. And here’s the paradox of grace: if you fall on this Stone—if you collapse your full weight onto Jesus—your pride will break, but your life will be saved. If you insist on standing apart until the Stone falls on you, that’s judgment. Surrender breaks you open; resistance breaks you apart. What Alignment Looks Like This Week Let’s get practical. Alignment isn’t vague spirituality; it’s measured in small, concrete, sometimes costly steps. Name the misaligned stone. What’s one habit, value, or secret motive you’ve been using as a reference point? Jealousy? Image management? The rush of being needed? Name it, and bring it into the light. Practice a “Cornerstone Prayer.” Morning and evening this week: “Jesus, align my whole life to You today—my thinking, my tone, my spending, my time.” Trade inputs. Fast from one voice that fuels fear or comparison. Fill that time with Scripture (try Psalm 118 this week) and two minutes of silence before God. Make amends. Where your resistance has hurt someone, pursue reconciliation. Alignment is relational, not just internal. Invite community. Lone-wolf discipleship breeds blind spots. Tell one trusted friend the exact area you’re aligning, and ask them to check in on you by Friday. Hope, Healing, Purpose (ALG’s heartbeat) Hope begins when we admit what’s true—even when it costs us. Denial freezes us in yesterday; truth frees us for tomorrow. Healing comes as we repent of the ways we’ve resisted Jesus’ authority. Confession isn’t humiliation; it’s housecleaning. Purpose grows as we center everything—work, family, finances, ministry—on Jesus the Cornerstone. He’s not one stone among many; He’s the line for them all. Reflection & Next Steps Where do I most feel the tension between what I want to be true and what Jesus says is true? How have my “little no’s” to God hardened into patterns? What’s my first yes today? Which single practice this week will best realign me to Jesus—confession, restitution, Scripture, silence, or community? A Simple Prayer Jesus, You are the Cornerstone—the line my life was made to follow. I confess where I’ve resisted inconvenient truth and tried to build on my preferences. Break my pride, not my life. Align my heart, habits, and hopes to You. Heal what sin has fractured. And guide me into the purpose You dreamed for me before I ever took a breath. Amen.

Daniel Thomas

Lead Pastor

May 4, 2026 • 2 Minute Read

All In: Living For The Age To Come

The Sadducees approached Jesus with a question about marriage in the resurrection—not because they cared about truth, but because they didn’t believe in resurrection at all. Their worldview was limited to this age: what you see is what you get. Jesus responds by reminding them (and us) that this life isn’t the whole story. There is an age to come, and those who belong to God will be raised, transformed, and fully alive. Then Jesus shifts the moment by asking His own question about the Messiah—showing from Scripture that He isn’t just David’s son, but David’s Lord. He’s revealing His identity as the Messiah they’ve been waiting for, even though the religious leaders refuse to see it. Their resistance is rooted in pride, power, and fear. And Jesus exposes the danger of looking spiritual on the outside while the heart is far from God. Right after calling out their hypocrisy, Jesus notices a poor widow dropping in two tiny coins. While others give from abundance, she gives out of deep trust. Her gift is small, but her surrender is huge. She’s not performing. She’s not looking for attention. She’s simply trusting God with all she has. Her example is the heartbeat of the whole passage: the kingdom of God isn’t about religious performance—it’s about trust, dependence, and going all in with Jesus. Being “worthy” of the resurrection isn’t about perfection. It’s about surrender. It’s letting go of the old life, laying down our need for control, and trusting Jesus with every part of who we are. Reflection Questions What part of my old way of living am I still holding onto? When it comes to money, time, or energy—what do my patterns say about who I trust most? Where might I be more focused on appearing spiritual than actually following Jesus? What’s one step I could take this week that says, “Jesus, I’m all in”? Prayer God, thank You for reminding me that this life isn’t the end of the story. Thank You for being the Messiah who brings hope, resurrection, and purpose. Show me where I’m still clinging to my old way of living, and give me the courage to trust You more deeply. Heal any place in me touched by hypocrisy, and help me live with the humble, surrendered faith of the widow. Teach me to go all in—today and every day. Amen.

Daniel Thomas

Lead Pastor

June 8, 2026 • 5 Minute Read

Your Circle Matters

Have you ever noticed how quickly you pick up the habits, phrases, or even the subtle attitude of the people you spend the most time with? You spend a weekend with a friend from New York or the West Coast, and suddenly you’re walking at double-speed and calling everything "so aesthetic." You hang around a coworker who constantly complains, and before you know it, you’re finding the cloud in every silver lining. There’s actually a scientific name for this: behavioral contagion. It’s the subconscious reality that we quietly copy the habits, speech patterns, and mindsets of our social circle. The late rapper Nipsey Hussle famously put it this way: "If you look at the people in your circle and you don't get inspired, you don't have a circle. You have a cage." We are the sum average of the people we keep closest. And thousands of years before sociology gave this a name, a group of powerful religious leaders in Jerusalem got a front-row seat to this exact phenomenon. The Country Bumpkins and the Council In the book of Acts, chapters 3 and 4, Peter and John walk into the temple around 3:00 in the afternoon. They encounter a man who had been unable to walk for over 40 years, begging at the gate. Peter looks at him and says, "I don't have silver or gold, but what I do have I give you: In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk." Instantly, the man’s feet and ankles are strengthened. He doesn't just hobble up; he starts leaping, dancing, and praising God. A massive crowd gathers, totally amazed, and Peter boldly uses the moment to preach the gospel. Naturally, this ruffles the feathers of the religious elite (the Sadducees), who arrest them. The next morning, Peter and John are brought before the high council to explain themselves. And that brings us to Acts 4:13, a verse that changes everything: "The members of the council were amazed when they saw the boldness of Peter and John, for they could see that they were ordinary men with no special training in the scriptures. They also recognized them as men who had been with Jesus." The council looked at these two men and essentially saw "country bumpkins" or "rednecks"—uneducated fishermen with thick Galilean accents. They weren't theologians. They didn't have fancy degrees. Yet, they spoke with an undeniable authority and courage. The council couldn't deny the miracle because the 40-year-old healed man was standing right there beside them. So, they landed on the only logical explanation: These men had been with Jesus. They had caught His "contagion." They talked like Him, acted like Him, and carried His power. 3 Core Habits that Shape Who You Become John Dryden once wrote, "We first make our habits, and then our habits make us." Peter wasn't born bold—in fact, he famously denied Jesus three times out of fear. But his habits, transformed by the Holy Spirit and time spent with Christ, completely remade him. If we want people to look at our lives and recognize that we’ve "been with Jesus," we have to intentionally cultivate the same three habits Peter modeled: 1. Curating Your Circle Peter and John chose to stay close to Jesus and His followers, even when Jesus’ teachings got incredibly difficult and others walked away. As Proverbs 13:20 warns: "Walk with the wise and become wise. Associate with fools and get in trouble." You have a choice in who you break bread with. Are the people closest to you inspiring you to grow, or are they keeping you locked in a cage? 2. Trusting God Over Your Own Logic When God tells you to do something that defies human reasoning—like telling Israel to march around the massive walls of Jericho to bring them down—you face a choice. Will you lean on your own understanding, or will you build the habit of trusting God's Word even when it feels risky? Peter learned to trust the authority of Jesus’ name above his own limitations. 3. Repenting Instead of Making Excuses The godly aren't people who never fail; Proverbs 24:16 says the godly may trip seven times, but they get back up. When we mess up, our human instinct is to pass the buck, just like Adam blamed Eve and Eve blamed the serpent in the Garden. Peter made massive mistakes, but he owned them, repented, and got back up. True repentance is a total change of mind and heart—it’s turning around and doing things differently. Time for a Reality Check If the people around you—your family, coworkers, or neighbors—had to guess who you’ve been hanging out with based on your attitudes, speech, and habits, what would they conclude? Would they see the patience, boldness, and love of Jesus? Or would they see the cynicism, gossip, and excuse-making of the world? To break out of the cages holding us back, we need to take action: Prioritize the Presence: Don't just give Jesus your leftovers at the end of a long day. Set a specific, daily time to be with Him. Own Your Stuff: Stop making excuses for the bad habits you've tolerated. Don't just try to "quit" them—genuinely repent of them and turn the other way. Check Your Five: Take a hard look at the five people you spend the most time with. If they aren't pushing you closer to Christ, it might be time to intentionally seek out a wiser circle. You don't need a special title or an advanced degree to change the world around you. You just need to spend time with the One who changes you. Next Step: Who is one person in your life whose faith and habits you admire? Reach out to them this week and invite them to grab a coffee or break bread together.

Daniel Thomas

Lead Pastor

June 4, 2026 • 3 Minute Read

The Gift of Divine Disruption

When God Ruins Your Perfect Nap: The Gift of Divine Disruption Imagine a flawless Sunday: a productive week behind you, no line at your favorite restaurant, and the bedroom temperature set to a crisp, perfect chill. You drift into a well-deserved nap, only for a metaphorical bull in a china shop to come roaring through the house. You aren't just awake; you are deeply disturbed. We all hate having our comfort interrupted. But what happens when the entity disrupting our lives isn't an annoying coincidence, but God Himself? This week, we explored Acts 4:1-1 (with a side trip into Jonah) to examine what happens when God intentionally wrecks our comfort zones for a grander purpose. The "Sadducee" in All of Us In Acts 3, Peter and John heal a man who had been lame for over forty years. Instead of celebrating, the religious elite—the Sadducees—become deeply "disturbed" and arrest the apostles. This miracle and the message of Jesus' resurrection threatened their authority, theology, and status quo. It’s easy to judge the Sadducees, but we often react the exact same way. We get fiercely protective over our own routines and expectations, growing irritated the moment life stops going according to our layout. A Servant, Not a God When life gets disrupted, our posture exposes what we truly believe about God. Take the prophet Jonah: he was so furious that God showed mercy to his enemies that he threw a pity party, telling God he was angry enough to die. He wanted his own desires fulfilled, not God's global mission. When we complain that our obedience should guarantee a smooth ride, we fall into the same trap. The Hard Truth: We often don't want a God; we want a servant. We want a cosmic assistant who owes us ease in exchange for good behavior. But comfort isn't the reward for obedience, and hardship isn't always a punishment. Peter and John were entirely obedient, yet they still landed in a jail cell. The Purpose of the Pressure In our culture, comfort is king. But absolute comfort can be a trap that causes us to pause, grow stagnant, and stop pursuing God. God cares too much about your character to leave you there. He will intentionally turn up the heat or permit unmet expectations to loosen our white-knuckled grip on our mini-kingdoms, forcing us to surrender to His better plan. The lame man wasn’t healed because he earned it; he was healed to display Jesus’ authority. Sometimes, God allows our hardships for the exact same reason: so He may be glorified. Shifting to Surrender Jesus is the cornerstone. A cornerstone dictates the entire alignment of a building, yet we constantly try to build our lives around our own blueprints. True peace cannot be engineered through control or moral checklist behavior; it is found only in resting under His name. The next time a disruption threatens your peace, don't immediately vent to others. Take it straight to God—even if you have to complain to Him first. Ask Him what is true, not just what you want to be true. You might just find the disruption is an invitation to trade temporary comfort for a peace that passes all understanding. Digging Deeper This Week Reflect: Where are you catching yourself expecting God to owe you comfort in exchange for your obedience? Step: Write down one short prayer of surrender today, and revisit it at the end of the week. Read: Read through Acts 3-4, Jonah 1-4, John 9, and Philippians 4 to reset your focus on the Cornerstone. Watch full message here:

Daniel Thomas

Lead Pastor