Give us this day our daily bread Each Sunday at Lighthouse, after cries for the kingdom to come, we move to the next line of the prayer...

Each Sunday at Lighthouse, after a burst of heart-felt, honest, and holy prayer — the kind that comes when people have nothing left to...

One foot in Eden, where light spills soft through the branches, and the river sings a song without sorrow. Here, the air is thick with...

The Church Is Not a Museum Churches are not museums of tradition or graveyards of yesteryear. They are not mausoleums filled with the...

Blessed be the One, wild and holy, whose breath stirs the void, whose voice hums in all things, whose light flickers in the deep. Blessed...

Night spills across the earth like oil, thick with the hush of waiting. I slip between waking and the deep unseen, where time is...

Churches are not businesses. Now, this doesn’t mean there aren’t budgets to balance, resources to steward, or even that insights from...

“We may possess and may practice a dogmatics, an ethics, and a proper worldview such as the given tradition requires but still leave...

Today, the Lighthouse team continued their book study of ‘The Wood Between the Worlds: A Poetic Theology of the Cross.’ After discussing...

Give thanks for the longing within, for the hunger that will not be silenced. Speak of the beauty that lingers still, of the mystery that...

"No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it is not the same river, and he is not the same man." —Heraclitus The River I Step In Is...

“Bats or great crested newts?” “Neither, because I want growth, ” - Rachel Reeves, Times Interview, Quick Fire Questions ‘Bats or Great...

There is a trembling beneath all things, a quiet undoing woven into the fabric of being. The earth shifts, waters rise, and I too am...

There is a thirst— a restless, raging thirst we cannot name, a yearning without object, a hunger beyond the reach of reason, a void...

Drill, baby, drill— strange words, a chant from a strange man in a strange world. Forests burn, their ancient voices smothered in smoke....

Step beyond the comforts of romanticised religion, beyond a hope too soft, too distant. Move towards the wounded, the image-bearers in...

You can find Calcutta all over the world, if you have the eyes to see”- Mother Teresa Find your own Calcutta— a descent, an incarnation...

Hope is not a calculation,   not a tally of gains or losses,   but the ache of a heart   stretched toward the horizon,   a whisper of...

Do not be afraid. Bid farewell to fear. There is no shadow so deep that love cannot reach it, no sin so vast it could exhaust the...

Hope leans forward, tender, listening to the whispers of creation groaning for renewal. It does not turn its face from shadows but gazes...