Category: Stories

Last week, eight of us from First United Methodist Church Winter Park traveled to Montgomery, Alabama on a Civil Rights Pilgrimage. We visited the National Memorial for Peace and Justice, the Legacy Museum, the Rosa Parks Museum, and traveled to Selma where we worshipped together and shared Holy Communion on the Edmund Pettus Bridge. We were guided by Rev. David Williamson and Rev. Laverne March of Belonging, Inc., an organization that leads groups through cross-cultural dialogue and equity work. It was three days of walking, listening, and looking at hard things together.

Today, I want to tell you a little about our journey.

The Legacy Museum is unlike anything I have experienced. Room after room tells the story of slavery, lynching, segregation, and mass incarceration in America. Not abstract history. Specific names. Specific places. Specific dates.

I found a name from my hometown.

Elijah Clark. Huntsville, Alabama. July 23, 1900. Lynched, along with many others, eighty years before I was born, in the city where I grew up.

I was raised in Alabama. I was taught that the Civil War was the “War of Northern Aggression.” I was taught that slaveholders were, by and large, kind and benevolent. I was never taught about Elijah Clark or that lynchings even happened.

Looking back, it is obvious. This was not an accident.

This week’s scripture is Ephesians 5:8-14 (NRSVUE). Paul writes, “For once you were darkness, but now in the Lord you are light. Live as children of light, for the fruit of the light is found in all that is good and right and true.” 

That’s where a lot of us want to stop. We are the light. We are the good ones. We know better. But Paul doesn’t stop there.

“Try to find out what is pleasing to the Lord. Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them. For it is shameful even to mention what such people do secretly, but everything exposed by the light becomes visible, and everything that becomes visible is light.”

This is the paradox Paul highlights: exposure itself is a form of redemption. When we cease to look away, stop spreading comfortable lies, and finally name darkness, a change occurs. The light not only illuminates but also transforms our world. Acknowledging these events is crucial; it opens the door for the light to enter and bring change.

The museum ends with pictures of black children. Smiling, laughing, and just being kids. And I stood there undone. How do we still not see this? Although we have made significant progress since the 1960s, society still lacks true equal justice. Not yet. Not while Black children are six times more likely to be shot by police than white children. Black Americans are incarcerated at over five times the rate of white Americans. Black women also die in childbirth at three times the rate of white women. And we continue to teach sanitized versions of our history, so as not to make waves and so we all can “move on.”

And then we went to Selma.

We stood on the Edmund Pettus Bridge. The same bridge where on March 7, 1965, six hundred people were beaten back by state troopers with clubs and tear gas for trying to march for the right to vote. It’s called Bloody Sunday. We stood next to that bridge, and we broke bread together. We shared the cup together. We took communion on the ground where people bled for dignity.

I don’t have words for what that felt like. I’ll just say this. The table has always been a place where broken things get named and held. We saw the light, our eyes were open.

That is what Paul means when he says, “Therefore it says, ‘Sleeper, awake! Rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you.'” Ephesians 5:14 (NRSVUE)

This pilgrimage was a wake-up for me and others, and I hope that more people can experience this in the future. Because you cannot live as a child of light while refusing to look at the darkness. You cannot find what pleases God while protecting yourself from the uncomfortable truth. You cannot bear the fruit of what is good, right, and true while sleepwalking through history.

When I was a Team member at Warren Willis Camp, every week we would take our Small Groups to the Ropes Course early in the week to create a sense of strong communication and teamwork. I have served as a counselor for four years and have worked with elementary, middle school and high school individuals in this formidable time as they ask questions about faith, the Bible and how we are to follow Jesus in today’s world. In every Rope’s Course activity, we have what is called the Trust Fall and it can be done two different ways. One way is in a circle where you close your eyes, link up your hands, fold in your arms and plant your feet. Once you close your eyes, you lean back in the circle and hope and pray that your fellow campers catch you. The other way of doing this activity is up on a 6-foot ledge that you fall from and hope that you fall into a group of campers and adult volunteers that catch you like you are crowd surfing at a concert. Both experiences require some trust and both experiences bring up some anxiety for folks because we are conditioned early on to look out for ourselves and to not just fall blindly where we cannot see. They also teach us about Trust and relying on grace.

When I think about this Lent Week Three focus, I am reminded of this image of the Trust Fall. This classic activity at camp is the foundation for all that we do in faith, because much of what we hope in is outside of our control. When we trust Jesus with our callings and career choices, we don’t know where we will end up. When we trust our marriages and child-rearing to Jesus, we may feel more vulnerable than we would like. When we trust Jesus with our finances, we may worry about scarcity or lack of security. When we trust Jesus with our anger and bitterness, we may not get to have the final word.

And so why do we do it? Why is it often times difficult to trust and what does it mean to rely on grace?

If we carry through with the metaphor of the Trust Fall, our faith in Jesus means that we are sometimes not in control. By closing our eyes and locking our hands we are signaling that we don’t know what happens next and we can’t control the outcome. This is a scary notion and one that takes trust to see it through. The lack of control is an essential part of trusting Jesus because He orders our steps and walks beside us in uncomfortable situations. I remember the words of a seminary professor who told us that Jesus came to comfort the afflict and afflict the comfortable. I feel that I am the latter one in that example and I have lived a mostly comfortable life. And so trusting that Jesus will walk with me through situations that I don’t choose and that I might not feel ready for is a part of that trust. Remember Jesus never asked us to believe in Him, but to follow him. When we rely on grace, we are choosing to follow even if it all doesn’t make sense.

Stick with the Trust Fall example for a moment longer, and picture the first way of falling in a circle, surrounded by the group of other campers. I fall in whatever direction the group gently nudges me. While I trust the community of faith that surrounds me, really relying on grace is the peace we feel when we know that whatever we walk through, we have a community of Jesus followers that surround us, support us and hold us in prayer.  And that is the gift of grace. When we can’t do it alone and we run out of steam, it is the community of Jesus followers that gently nudges us, directs us and protects us. I have watched this happen over and over again in the churches I serve and in the faith communities that I am connected to because this is the incarnation of grace. And by relying on God’s Grace, it stretches us and reminds us that we are all connected.

And so I ask you to think this week about where you are struggling to trust. Is it in your fear of the unknown? Are you struggling to trust a person, a leader, a system? Are you struggling to trust yourself or friend or a loved one? Name that, know that and bring it to God in prayer. And then I invite you, as you pray over that area of distrust to look for the people that might be able to hold you up and support you as you find your way. That is where grace enters in and that is how God’s Spirit strengthens us through community.

 Praise be to the Lord,
    for he has heard my cry for mercy.
The Lord is my strength and my shield;
    my heart trusts in him, and he helps me.
My heart leaps for joy,
    and with my song I praise him.

                        Psalm 28:6-7

Romans 4:1–5, 13–17

Romans 4 makes Paul’s argument unmistakable. Abraham was not made righteous because he performed well. He trusted God. And that trust was counted as righteousness. The promise rested on grace, not achievement.

That emphasis matters deeply for us as Wesleyans.

John Wesley insisted that grace is always first. Prevenient grace goes before us. Justifying grace reconciles us. Sanctifying grace continues to transform us. At every stage of the Christian life, grace is the foundation. We do not initiate salvation. God does.

Yet many people still live as though Jesus is keeping score.

We imagine a cosmic ledger. Good deeds on one side. Failures on the other. We hope the balance tips in our favor. It is a deeply ingrained religious instinct.

The television show The Good Place built its entire premise on that idea. (SPOILER WARNING) In the show’s fictional afterlife, every action earns positive or negative points. Buy flowers for your grandmother, you gain points. Buy the wrong tomatoes and indirectly support exploitative labor practices, you lose points. The system tracks everything.

But as the show unfolds, they discover something important. The scoring system is fundamentally flawed. Modern life is too complex. Every action is entangled in systems of harm no one fully understands. Even well-intentioned choices carry unintended consequences. No one can accumulate enough points to qualify. So, no one is being allowed into the “Good Place.” The system collapses under its own logic.

That fictional insight reflects a real theological truth. If salvation depends on moral point totals, no one stands secure. Human life is too complicated. Sin is too pervasive. Motives are too mixed.

Paul’s argument in Romans 4 dismantles that ledger approach. “To one who works, wages are owed. But to one who trusts God who justifies the ungodly, faith is counted as righteousness.” God does not operate a cosmic scoreboard. God operates through grace.

For us as Wesleyans, grace is the better way.

We are not Christians so that we can earn a place in heaven. We are Christians because Christ has already loved us. We respond to grace. We trust grace. We are transformed by grace.

And our works matter. Wesley never minimized holiness. But our obedience does not flow from fear of disqualification. It flows from love and gratitude. We serve not to secure acceptance but because we have already been embraced.

This reshapes our confession. We do not confess to adjust our score. We confess because we trust that grace is real. We name what we carry because we believe God’s mercy is deeper than our failure.

So, if you find yourself imagining a divine scoreboard, pause. That is not Paul’s gospel. That is not Wesley’s theology.

The promise rests on grace.

We live, serve, repent, forgive, and love not out of obligation, but out of thankfulness for the love of Christ. And that love is never earned. It is given.

Over the past few months, there has been a steady rhythm of work happening across our campus, some of it visible and some behind the scenes, all focused on caring for the spaces where ministry happens every day.

Several important projects are currently underway. Work continues on the Marcy Chapel windows, restoration of the MFLC façade, and the Wesleyan Building door along Morse Boulevard. We are also addressing essential systems, including a boiler repair in the Wesleyan Building, AC repair in the Reeves Fellowship Hall, and modifications to the Sanctuary lighting to enhance worship and visibility.

At the same time, several major projects have recently been completed. The MFLC roof has been replaced, ensuring long term protection for that space. A makeup water line for the chiller was replaced to support our cooling systems. On the first floor of the Wesleyan Building, the men’s restroom wall and urinals were updated, and the Fellowship Hall drain line and flooring were repaired. In the MFLC, ceiling tiles and insulation on the second and third floors were replaced, and new first floor heaters were repaired for MSEE.

All of these projects have either been completed or initiated within the last few months. While not always glamorous, this work matters. It supports safety, stewardship, and the everyday ministries that fill these rooms with life, from worship and children’s programs to community gatherings and outreach.

Thank you for being part of a church that cares not only about what happens inside these walls, but also about faithfully maintaining the spaces entrusted to us.

Sisters and Brothers,

As we begin the journey of Lent, you will have an opportunity to reflect on a Scripture and on a Hymn that ties us back to this holy season of reflection and redirection.

Our Scripture today is Psalm 25: 1-11 NIV

1 In you, Lord my God,
    I put my trust.

2 I trust in you;
    do not let me be put to shame,
    nor let my enemies triumph over me.
3 No one who hopes in you
    will ever be put to shame,
but shame will come on those
    who are treacherous without cause.

4 Show me your ways, Lord,
    teach me your paths.
5 Guide me in your truth and teach me,
    for you are God my Savior,
    and my hope is in you all day long.
6 Remember, Lord, your great mercy and love,
    for they are from of old.
7 Do not remember the sins of my youth
    and my rebellious ways;
according to your love remember me,
    for you, Lord, are good.

8 Good and upright is the Lord;
therefore he instructs sinners in his ways.
9 He guides the humble in what is right
and teaches them his way.
10 All the ways of the Lord are loving and faithful
toward those who keep the demands of his covenant.
11 For the sake of your name, Lord,
forgive my iniquity, though it is great.

Now read it again in another translation. After reading it twice, what word or phrase stands out to you? What word or image gives you hope? What phrase causes you discomfort?

For me, I have been chewing on this idea of humility. Last week, a leader in our church asked us a deep question. He asked, can a leader be humble and successful? And I have been thinking about that ever since. I feel how you answer that in part is how you define success. And humility always points me back to Jesus. Verse 9 says, “He guides the humble in what is right and teaches them his way.” In order to be humble, you have to adjust your perspective in how you see yourself and how you see the world. If you come before God with the heart posture to learn and to obey, God is honored in that humility and imparts wisdom and clarity. One of the hymns I return to time and time again in my own worship and reflection time is “Be Thou My Vision.” I am choosing today to focus on the words of verse four which speak to me about humility.

“Riches I heed not, nor man’s empty praise;

Thou mine inheritance, now and always.

Thou and thou only, first in my heart,

High King of Heaven, my treasure thou art.”

As we begin this Lenten Journey together, may we have the heart posture of humility and may God be the treasure we seek first. The world needs more leaders that are humble and have their eyes fixed on Jesus.

AMEN

Good News of Great Joy | Rev. Philip Allred

The angels announce it plainly in the Christmas story: “I am bringing you good news of great joy for all people.” Not a command. Not a task. Not something to achieve or manufacture. Joy arrives as good news, a gift given before anyone asks for it, earns it, or even knows what to do with it.

So often we treat joy like a responsibility. We assume we have to feel it, create it, or prove it. But Advent reminds us that joy comes to us the same way Christ does. Unexpected, unearned, and beyond our control. The gospel is not advice about what we must do, it is news about what God has already done. Joy flows from that reality. It is rooted in the truth that God has come near, that love has taken on flesh, and that the world is being healed from the inside out.

We cling to control, especially in anxious seasons. We prefer producing to receiving because producing gives us a sense of power. Receiving requires surrender. And that is what makes joy difficult for many of us. Joy asks us to loosen our grip, to stop striving, and to trust that God’s gift is enough. Grace changes us precisely because we cannot control it. It meets us where we are and transforms us from the inside.

This Advent, you do not have to create joy. You do not have to feel joy on demand. You do not have to prove joy with a smile or a song. You are simply invited to receive it. Let the good news of great joy penetrate your heart. Let it interrupt your fear, soften your resistance, and reshape your life. The beauty of Christ coming to save us is that it means we could not do it on our own.

Joy has come.
The gift has been given.
The question is…

Will you receive it?

This past week, I have felt love all around me. Our theme from Sunday tells us that God loved us enough to send his one and only Son to be our Savior, our Lord, our Friend. And that gift came from a place of love; not anger or disappointment.

Over this last busy week, I have watched LOVE show her face in places big and small. I have watched my children forgive each other and show kindness. I have watched the love of three daughters and a wife who grieve the loss of a loved one be swept up in the love of this church and community. I have watched love shared through the talents of music and worship during an incredible Festival Gloria Sunday. The pastors shared God’s love with our young friends at MSEE through Chapel as we told the story of the birth of Jesus. I have felt the love of my parents who help care for my children during an afternoon of church meetings and then I ended the week learning more about the love of unexpected blessings at Residing Hope and the youth whose lives are transformed there.

Love has been in most places that I have taken the time to look for it in. And isn’t that the story of the Gospel?! When you seek, you will find. God is there, sharing, showing and spreading love in the most unexpected ways. So let us pause with this truth for a moment longer, because the busyness of this holiday season moves us along too quickly. I invite you to sit with this and don’t move past this, because so much in us asks us to move faster and forward to the next big time. But what if love is best felt in the small, mundane moments where grief, or anger or busyness reside? What if we are missing out on love because we are afraid to wade into the uncomfortable moments during this season? What if that is where love is hiding all along? If it is, how are you actively looking for the love in the midst of sadness or shame? How are you tuning your ears to hear the embrace of the Spirit in the times that we aren’t at our best or we have let someone down?

On Tuesday, I spent the day at Residing Hope, formally known as the Florida United Methodist Children’s Home. I have served on their Board since I was pregnant with Charlie, and will therefore be starting my 8^th year this Summer. I continue to serve this organization because I see God show up in the most unexpected ways and transform lives again and again. During our Ministry Moment, our Chaplain introduced us to a young girl who had a message to share. All of the youth at Residing Hope had entered a T-shirt designing contest and this young girl, who had at that time only lived at Residing Hope three weeks, decided to design a T-shirt and enter the contest. This young girl ended up winning the contest and designed the shirt that I am wearing in this picture. It says, “Say No to Hate, and Yes to Love” on the front. On the back she wrote, “You are unique and special in your own way because that’s how God made you so be proud of that.”  What an important reminder in today’s world. This simple message acknowledges that there is both Love and Hate, but that we get to choose what we fuel, what we spend energy on and what we will to be known by.

Love takes more work, I can promise you that. But it is where God shows up and where transformation takes place. Sometimes we need to slow down to see it. Other times we have to focus our eyes and our ears to speak it and share it, but through the gift of Jesus, who showed up in an unexpected way, we have the ability to say YES to love each and every time.

May the God of grace help you see LOVE and choose LOVE today.