We often treat sin as a handful of inconsequential debts, so asking God for forgiveness—or forgiving someone else—can feel unnecessary. In Matthew 6:12, Jesus places both debts before us in a single petition: “Forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.” Do we understand the balance we have run up?
Mothers mourn over children falling away, over ones they’ve outlived, over the ache of children they never had. That grief feels heavy for Mother’s Day, yet Jesus declares in Matthew 5:4, “Blessed are those who mourn.” How is it blessed to mourn?
Most of us pray “thy kingdom come” without stopping to ask whether the kingdom we’re actually building day to day is God’s—or our own. That tension sits at the heart of Matthew 6:10, and Daniel 4 shows just how far God will go to get our attention when we forget who’s really in charge.
Selfishness is sneaky—it feels like commonsense in the moment. As the disciples sat right in front of Jesus, they struggled with the same self-centered question we all are challenged: “But what about me?”
It’s easy to look across the room and thank God we’re not like *that* person—the failure, the compromiser, the obvious sinner. In Luke 18, Jesus tells a parable to confront such self-righteousness in us.
What is required to be a Christian? We believe that trusting in Jesus for salvation, confessing him to be your Lord and Savior, is the necessary step for being a Christian. At the same time, there is much more the Bible has to say that it is important for Christians to know and to grow in the truth of and what follows gives you an understanding of how we understand different key Biblical teachings at Little Hills.
When a winter forecast keeps bouncing around, most of us know better than to cancel everything over what might never arrive. Luke opens his Gospel with the opposite claim: this is no chance of grace next week, but the report of what has already been fulfilled among us—Jesus actually coming in history.
We've all tried to manage our relationship with God on our own terms—keeping up appearances, going through the motions, assuming good effort is good enough. Isaiah 1:18 cuts through that with a direct invitation: “Come now, let us reason together, says the Lord”—and the question it presses is whether we'll actually stop and think about what he's offering.
Most of our days do not feel like turning points in history; they feel like errands, obligations, and familiar routines, leaving us to wonder whether our lives matter in any story beyond our own. Those on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem in Acts 2 might have wondered the same thing.
