Believing is Seeing: Your Impact in 2025
There’s a story in the book of Acts that I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. Here’s the short version:
Saul (later known as Paul) has this wild encounter while traveling to Damascus. As he travels, he sees a light that knocks him to the ground, and then he hears a voice. Turns out it’s the voice of Jesus who tells Saul to get up, go into the city, and await further instruction. But as Saul gets up, he realizes that he can’t see. He’s been blinded.
Then, after a few days, a follower of Jesus in Damascus named Ananias is met by God in a vision and is told to go to Saul and lay his hands on him so that Saul’s sight might be restored. But here’s the thing: Saul has a reputation. To this point in the story, Saul has a history of persecuting followers of Jesus, taking pride in committing acts of heinous violence. But when Ananias tries to plead his case, God describes how God will use Saul to bring transformation and healing in the world. So, with fear and trembling, Ananias goes anyway, lays hands on Saul, and Saul’s sight is restored. That’s the cliff notes version. You can read the whole thing in Acts 9.
And here’s what I love about this story. Could God have restored Saul’s sight without Ananias? Sure. And yet, God sends Ananias anyway. And it’s only when Ananias arrives and touches Saul that his sight is restored. For me, it demonstrates well the power of community—how we need each other—how there’s much we can’t see on our own.
Last month, The Local Church celebrated five years of weekly worship. It’s a big milestone for us. We’ve been at this good work for a while. And I’ll be honest—it’s tough to see all the good sometimes. Between racing to get the kids where they need to go and constantly rearranging my calendar and trying to fend off the existential angst that comes with mindless doom-scrolling and all of the other assorted experiences that make our modern existence what it is, it can be tough to see what’s right in front of us. It can be really hard for me to see how God has been at work in and through this faith community.
But in so many ways, you’ve been my Ananias.
When you embrace new people who walk through our doors, you help me see what it looks like to be a community that loves recklessly, ensuring that each person knows their belovedness.
When you bring a meal to youth group on Wednesday nights and help feed the students there, you help me see how love is made real through cheesy pizza, an elaborate taco bar, and ice cream sundaes.
When you spend a week in Tennessee with ASP, help assemble cleaning kits for hurricane relief, show up at PBO Pride, or ensure teachers don’t have to pay out of pocket for needed classroom supplies, you help me see the compassion and solidarity of Jesus that reminds so many they’re not alone.
When you open your heart and home to a Local Table or show up at a stranger’s house for Evenings with the Wild, you help me see how friendship and abundance can heal places of fracture and division in our world.
When your kids ask their incredible questions, they help me see what Jesus meant by a childlike faith—and it helps me to live with more generosity, curiosity, and openness.
And when you show up on Sunday mornings week after week, and we gather around a Table open to all, you help me see that a different world is possible.
As The Local Church continues to serve our growing community, cultivate a place of refuge, renewal, and belonging, and accompany you on the way of Jesus, we seek your commitment to help our community and the world see what they might not yet be able to.
Amidst the division, isolation, fear, and anxiety that mark so much of our world, God’s work in and through The Local Church offers something different—something rare.
But what if God is sending us to be Ananias for others? I know the world can feel so heavy, and I know that hope can feel so elusive. And yet, by God’s grace, we can help our community see beauty, goodness, healing, and hope—just as you’ve done for me.
If you have seen something worth sharing, will you prayerfully consider a financial commitment to The Local Church in 2025? Here’s the reality: It takes resources to do what we get to do, and we work hard to be good stewards of what is entrusted to us.
In 2025, every dollar you give will help fuel God’s mission of love, justice, and healing—meeting the needs of a growing community, expanding our thriving kids and family ministry, and cultivating a place of refuge, renewal, belonging, and joy for all.
And when you give, you’ll also begin to see more of what you couldn’t before. Generosity changes us, too.
If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to let me know. Thanks for helping me see, friends. And I can’t wait to see what God has in store for us in 2025 and beyond.
What do you see?
with hope,
Brent
