It was the evening of our weekly gathering, and as person after person entered without knocking, I noticed something: everyone was walking in with Tupperware.

As we welcomed one another, hugged one another, and mingled with one another, the Tupperware began to exchange hands.

The containers told the story of generosity as they were used to share leftovers with one another. The containers told the story of compassion as they were used to feed those in our community who were sick and given a meal. And the containers told the story of Monday-Saturday life together as they represented meals shared and memories made.

Extra can be good. But it cannot be defining. When extra becomes defining, extra becomes excess. There is a tipping point when the extra becomes distracting and actually diminishes love. There is a critical spot when the extra becomes a substitute or crutch for intimacy, maturity, and growth…If the church is first and foremost a spiritual family, how does this intersect?

What does it mean to live near to the ground?...

In a culture of rapid movement, it’s choosing to be slow so others can be seen. 

In a world of racing agendas, it’s choosing to stop so others can be served. 

In a life of routine, it’s choosing to be simple so others can be esteemed.