A couple of weeks ago, we stood with the disciples on the lakeshore, staring at five loaves, two fish, and a crowd far larger than anyone could reasonably feed. The math did not work. The need was too great. The offering was too small. And yet Jesus said, “Bring them here to me.” Then Jesus took what was offered, blessed it, broke it open, and gave it back until everyone was fed and there were baskets left over. As I said in the sermon on April 26th, “Every gift matters. Every offering goes into the basket. And Jesus takes what’s in the basket and does what only he can do with it.”
This week, that sermon came to my mind as I started to smell sawdust.
If you’ve been around the church building this past week, you’ve probably heard it too, the sounds of saws, hammers, movement, and change. The old pews are being removed and rebuilt forthose who are giving them a new life in their homes. We are laying out where the Fellowship Hall cross will be installed in the atrium. The plans and drawings are becoming physical. The future we have prayed about and voted on and preached about is beginning to take shape in wood, dust, labor, and holy imagination. Our official construction start date is May 26, just three weeks away. But honestly? God has already started.
God has been at work in the planning, in the dreaming, in the courage of leaders, in the generosity of this congregation, and even in the fundraising before we fully asked. As I write this, we have reached an important milestone. We have received commitments or contributions from 51 households, about one-sixth of our church, totaling $541,055.67. That is about 36% of the $1.5 million we are seeking to raise. This is worth celebrating. 🙌
And it is also worth remembering: this project is not carried by one-third of a few families. That is not the story we are in. The story we are in is the story of everyone bringing what is in their hands to Jesus. Some gifts will be large. Some will feel small. Some will come as dollars. Some will come as time, talent, prayer, patience, encouragement, or the willingness to help carry this congregation into its next season of ministry.
I know this personally. What my family has to give feels small right now. We are getting ready to send a kid to college. Like many families, we are looking at our own math and trying to be faithful. But I also know this: every gift placed in Jesus’ hands is more than enough. Not because we are enough on our own, but because Jesus takes, blesses, breaks open, and gives back in ways our spreadsheets cannot fully predict.
For the next several weeks, members of our Capital Campaign financing team are making phone calls. These calls are not meant to pressure anyone. They are simply an invitation to conversation. Do you have questions? Do you need another commitment card? Are you wondering what participation might look like for your household? We want to help.
And, yes, you can save someone a call. You can drop your commitment card in the church office or offering plate, or you can click here to make a commitment online or make a one-time donation here.
The smell of sawdust this week is a reminder that the work has begun. The sound of hammers is a reminder that grace is still flowing. And every commitment, every prayer, every act of generosity is another loaf, another fish, another offering placed in the hands of Jesus.
Bring what you have. God is already blessing it.
