http://www.lightthewayministry.net/

Light The Way, Porter, IN (2026)

10/15/2026

THE UNLIKELY ONES STUDY
Day 7, Hagar: Learning to See the People God Sees

Today we’re talking about Hagar, and I thought we’d be talking about the comfort of knowing God sees us. And we are. But I think the bigger challenge is whether we’re willing to see the people He sees.

In Genesis 16, Sarai is tired of waiting for God’s promise of a child. So she comes up with her own solution and gives her enslaved servant, Hagar, to Abram. Hagar doesn’t have the freedom or power to make this decision for herself. When she becomes pregnant, everything falls apart. Sarai treats her harshly, and Hagar runs into the wilderness.

And that’s where God meets her. Not in a palace or a place of importance, but beside a spring in the desert. He calls her by name and listens to her. Hagar calls Him El Roi, “the God who sees me” (Genesis 16:13). Her son is named Ishmael, meaning “God hears.” I love that. A woman whom the people around her treated as though her voice didn’t matter discovers that God sees and hears her.

But her story isn’t tied up in a neat little bow. She returns to a difficult situation, and later, in Genesis 21, she and Ishmael are sent away. When their water runs out, Hagar is terrified she’ll lose her son. God hears, speaks to her, and opens her eyes to a well. Being seen by God didn’t mean Hagar never suffered. It meant she wasn’t forgotten in her suffering.

Now let’s talk about Sarai, later called Sarah. She wanted something good, but desperation led her to make a choice that hurt someone else. Haven’t we all made decisions out of fear, impatience, or a desire to fix things ourselves? I certainly have. Some choices leave consequences we’re still dealing with years later. And sometimes we’re the ones carrying consequences from decisions we never made. Understanding someone’s pain can help us have compassion for them, but it doesn’t excuse the harm they cause. We can hold both truths at once.

That’s what struck me about this story. Abraham and Sarah were central to God’s covenant promise, but that didn’t make Hagar less important to Him. God didn’t look past her because somebody else had more status or a bigger role in His plan.

I think about how often we do that without meaning to. We notice the person on the stage, but not the one who set up the chairs. We admire the ministry leader, but forget the volunteers cleaning up afterward. We hear the person with authority tell their side of a story, but never ask the person who was hurt what happened to them. And sometimes we approach people in need so focused on fixing them that we forget to actually listen.

I know from doing outreach that I can’t solve everybody’s problems. That’s not my job. But I can hear their story. I can meet them where they are, offer what help I can, and treat them with dignity. Sometimes loving someone looks like providing a meal. Sometimes it’s making space for their voice. Sometimes it’s simply refusing to look away.

James 1:19 reminds us to be quick to listen. Micah 6:8 calls us to act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with God. And in Matthew 25:35–40, Jesus describes people serving Him by caring for those who were hungry, sick, strangers, or in need. None of that requires a spotlight. It requires us to notice.

Hagar reminds us that God sees the overlooked. But I don’t want to walk away from her story only feeling comforted that He sees me. I want to walk away asking whether I’m overlooking somebody He loves.

We can’t claim to love the God who sees while refusing to see the people He loves.

That’s the challenge I’m taking with me today. Who is standing right in front of me that I need to slow down and really see?

10/13/2026

Good morning! ☀️

THE UNLIKELY ONES STUDY
Day 5, Come and See

📖 John 4:1–42 | Galatians 5:22–23 | 2 Corinthians 5:17 | Jeremiah 18:1–6

In John 4, Jesus meets a Samaritan woman at a well and asks her for a drink of water. That might not seem particularly remarkable until we understand the history between Jews and Samaritans, and the societal expectations surrounding men and women at that time. Jesus was crossing boundaries simply by having this conversation with her, but He didn’t stop at small talk. He spoke to her about living water, true worship, and eventually revealed that He was the Messiah.

Jesus also knew about her complicated marital history. We don’t know all the circumstances surrounding those relationships, and I think we need to be careful about assigning her a reputation Scripture doesn’t give her. What we do know is that Jesus knew her story and still chose to have this extraordinary conversation with her. He didn’t treat her as someone unworthy of hearing the truth or experiencing the love of God.

And I think that’s something we need to remember when we’re introducing people to Jesus. Sometimes we’ve made Christianity so complicated that people convince themselves they’re not the right kind of person for it. They’re too messy, too unconventional, too far gone, or they simply don’t fit the mold of what they think a Christian should look like. But you don’t have to become a finished product before you can come to Jesus. That’s part of what He’s inviting you into.

I used to think becoming a Christian would mean becoming boring, dry, and colorless. I genuinely thought I’d have to give up everything that made me who I was. What surprised me was how much more like myself I became after following Jesus. I spent years trying so hard to be happy, trying to fit in, and looking for things outside myself to make life enjoyable. Now I experience a kind of joy and peace I never knew I could have without working so hard to create it.

That doesn’t mean my life is perfect or that I’m happy every minute. Joy is a fruit of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22–23), not a guarantee that we’ll never experience sorrow. And following Jesus hasn’t meant that every part of me suddenly became what it should be. I’m still growing, still learning, and still recognizing things that need to change.

I think of our lives like clay in the hands of a potter, as described in Jeremiah 18. We have to be willing to let God shape us. Sometimes we hold so tightly to who we think we are that we leave no room for who He’s calling us to become. We insist that this is just the way we are, as though change is impossible. But surrender isn’t about losing everything that makes us unique. It’s about opening our hands and trusting God enough to let Him work on the things that need His attention.

And I think the church needs to approach people with open hands, too. We can’t invite people to experience Jesus and then insist that they meet all our expectations before they’re welcome. We can teach truth, encourage growth, and take discipleship seriously without making someone feel like they have to earn a place in the room.

One of my favorite parts of this story is what happens after the woman speaks with Jesus. She goes back into town and says, “Come, see a man who told me everything I ever did. Could this be the Messiah?” (John 4:29). She doesn’t have all the answers. She simply invites people to meet the One she’s encountered. And many of them do.

That’s what I hope we’re doing through Light The Way. We’re not asking people to join a church, give us money, or even believe in Jesus before they’re welcome to come worship alongside us. We’re simply gathering to celebrate Him, love people, and invite others to experience what we’ve found. Maybe someone encounters Jesus in a life-changing way. Maybe someone just enjoys the music, meets some kind people, and leaves with a different impression of Christians than they had before. We can plant the seeds, but God is responsible for the growth (1 Corinthians 3:6–7).

I think sometimes we spend so much time telling people what they’ll have to give up to follow Jesus that we forget to show them who they’re being invited to know. Yes, following Him changes us. Yes, there are things we’ll be called to surrender. But what if we helped people understand the beauty of that relationship before overwhelming them with everything we think they need to fix?

The Samaritan woman’s testimony wasn’t the destination. It was an invitation for others to encounter Jesus themselves.

“Come and see” is an invitation, not an ultimatum. ❤️🐑

10/12/2026

Good morning! ☀️

THE UNLIKELY ONES STUDY
Day 4: The Heart Behind the Calling

📖 1 Samuel 16:1–13 | Psalm 78:70–72 | Mark 10:42–45 | Psalm 139:23–24

When God sent Samuel to anoint Israel’s next king, Samuel looked at Jesse’s impressive older sons and assumed the answer must be standing right in front of him. But God said, “People look at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.” (1 Samuel 16:7) The one God had chosen wasn’t even in the room. David was out tending sheep.

I wonder how often we do the same thing Samuel did. We look for the most polished speaker, the most talented musician, the person with the best résumé or the strongest presence, and assume they’re the obvious choice to lead. But being impressive and being prepared to care for people aren’t necessarily the same thing. Scripture doesn’t tell us skill is unimportant. David himself was a skilled musician, and Psalm 78:72 says he shepherded God’s people with integrity of heart and skillful hands. Both matter.

That’s a tension I’ve wrestled with in ministry. I’ve invited people to lead worship because I could see how much they loved Jesus, only to discover their musical ability wasn’t quite ready for that responsibility. And I’ll admit, there have been moments when my own response wasn’t nearly as gracious as I wanted it to be. But I keep coming back to this: a person’s worth before God isn’t measured by the quality of their performance. We can encourage someone, honor their offering, and still help them grow before placing them in a particular role. Discernment and kindness are not enemies.

The same is true of recognition. It’s not wrong to want your hard work acknowledged. Romans 12:10 tells us to honor one another. The trouble begins when being noticed becomes more important than the people we’re supposed to serve. Jesus told His disciples that greatness in His kingdom looks like service, not status (Mark 10:42–45). The person holding the microphone isn’t more valuable than the person setting up chairs, cooking food, or staying late to clean. And if we’re entrusted with leadership, we have an even greater responsibility to remember that.

David’s story doesn’t end with his anointing. He eventually became king, and he also made devastating choices that harmed others. Being chosen by God didn’t make him immune to pride, failure, or accountability. That’s why the prayer of Psalm 139:23–24 matters: “Search me, God, and know my heart.” We don’t just need God to see our hearts when everyone else overlooks us. We need Him to keep examining our hearts when people finally start looking up to us.

I don’t know what every assignment God gives us will become. Sometimes the work changes. Sometimes new people bring new ideas. Sometimes the person best suited to help isn’t the one with the most impressive credentials, but the one willing to love people, learn, and serve faithfully. May we never become so impressed by someone’s abilities that we overlook their character, or so focused on someone’s limitations that we overlook their potential.

And if God ever gives us a place of influence, may we remember what it felt like to be the one nobody thought to invite into the room. Because people are always more important than the platform they’re standing on. 🐑❤️

10/11/2026

Good morning! ☀️

THE UNLIKELY ONES STUDY
Day 3: The Scoreboard We Can’t See

📖 Joshua 2 | Matthew 1:5 | Psalm 73 | Hebrews 11

I love looking at the people in Jesus’ family tree. Not because they were perfect, but because they were so incredibly human.

Take Rahab. She was a Canaanite woman living in Jericho, known in Scripture as a pr******te. When Israelite spies came to her city, she protected them because she believed their God was truly God (Joshua 2:9–11). She risked her safety and pleaded for her family’s protection. And there she is in Matthew 1:5, in the family line of Jesus. Hebrews 11:31 remembers her faith. God didn’t need a spotless family tree to enter our very human world.

But Rahab’s story brought me somewhere I wasn’t expecting, the way we measure success, especially when people doing wrong seem to prosper while people trying to do right keep struggling. Psalm 73 tells us we’re not the first to wrestle with that. Asaph looks at the prosperity of the arrogant and admits it troubles him. Ecclesiastes 8:14 acknowledges the same painful reality, life doesn’t always appear fair.

I think about small churches and nonprofits run by people who have very little, yet give so much. The pastor working to keep the lights on while giving away necessities to neighbors who need them. The volunteer who shows up again and again. The ministry leader who wonders why everybody else seems to be growing while they’re barely keeping their head above water.

But who decided the size of the crowd was the measure of the work? In Mark 12:41–44, Jesus notices a widow giving two small coins. Other people could count the amount. Jesus saw the sacrifice.
In Matthew 25:35–40, Jesus speaks about feeding the hungry, welcoming strangers, and clothing those in need. He doesn’t say those acts only count if they increase Sunday attendance.

Sometimes a church can be struggling to survive and still be serving its community beautifully. Sometimes a ministry can look tiny on paper and be making an enormous difference in somebody’s life. That doesn’t mean the struggle isn’t real. It doesn’t mean those leaders shouldn’t want growth, resources, or rest. And it certainly doesn’t mean bigger ministries are less faithful. We can’t see the whole picture from the outside.

Hebrews 11 remembers people who experienced miraculous deliverance AND people who suffered terribly for their faith. Different earthly outcomes. Faithfulness in both. And Daniel’s friends said something that challenges me every time. God was able to rescue them from the furnace, “but even if he does not,” they would not bow (Daniel 3:17–18).

We don’t do what’s right because we’re guaranteed a reward we can photograph, count, or deposit in the bank. We do what’s right because it’s right. Because we love Jesus. Because the people in front of us matter. We can pray for growth and justice without making either one the condition of our obedience.
And when we see people with power seem to escape accountability, we don’t have to pretend injustice is okay. Isaiah 1:17 calls us to seek justice and defend the oppressed. Romans 12:19 reminds us that vengeance belongs to God. Trusting Him doesn’t mean ignoring harm.

So to the faithful person who’s tired, the pastor whose building needs another repair, the nonprofit founder stretching every dollar, the volunteer wondering if any of it matters: please don’t confuse a difficult season with an absent God. Galatians 6:9 encourages us not to grow weary in doing good. And if you’re exhausted, please hear this too: faithfulness doesn’t require you to destroy yourself trying to keep everything going. Ask for help. Rest. Let others carry some of the load.

Rahab didn’t have the status of Jericho’s king. But when we open the New Testament, it’s her name we find in Jesus’ family tree. The world’s scoreboard has never been the final word on what God is doing.

10/10/2026

Good morning! ☀️

THE UNLIKELY ONES STUDY
Day 2: The God Who Walks With Us

📖 Exodus 3:1–12; 4:10–17 | Psalm 23:4 | Ephesians 2:8–10

When God called Moses from the burning bush, Moses didn’t respond with a confident résumé. He asked, “Who am I?” (Exodus 3:11). God’s answer wasn’t a list of Moses’ qualifications. It was, “I will be with you” (Exodus 3:12). Sometimes we’re so focused on God’s plan that we forget His invitation includes His presence.

In July 2014, I left Florida because I knew that if I stayed, I might not survive the life I was living. I had no plan. I didn’t know Jesus the way I do now. I just knew I needed to go.

And then? Life didn’t suddenly become wonderful.

I met my husband that December, but our relationship had a difficult beginning. We separated, and I left Indiana for a while. I was lonely. We eventually reconciled and got married in 2016 but, I hadn’t found my people. It took years to get my feet underneath me.

Our daughter came into our lives in 2018. We bought our home in 2020. The vision for Light The Way came in February 2023. And in July 2025, I finally began working in the field I’d dreamed of since I was a little girl.

Eleven years. Not eleven minutes.

Those dates don’t show the tears, the waiting, or the decisions in between. A job I took to help pay for our daughter’s adoption introduced me to a dear friend. Later, she stood beside me when I was terrified to lead my first ministry meeting. When Moses doubted his ability to speak, God provided Aaron (Exodus 4:14–16). My friend Barbie was my Aaron! I couldn’t have seen any of that coming.

About a month before the vision for Light The Way, I experienced another turning point. I was about to go outside to smoke w**d when I felt a question placed on my heart by God. How would I feel if my daughter needed drugs every time she wanted to feel happy or cope with sadness? My answer was, “Devastated.” Then I heard words I didn’t even recognize as Scripture at the time (Matthew 11:28): “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” I said yes to that invitation, and the desire I’d carried for years was gone. Like a light switch had been flipped. Surrendering something to God didn’t mean every problem instantly disappeared. For others, freedom may take much longer. God’s grace is not a stopwatch, and faith isn’t a transaction where we give something up and receive a perfect life in return.

Ephesians 2:8–10 reminds us that grace comes first, and the good works follow. Philippians 2:13 reminds us that God works in us, shaping our desires and actions. And Galatians 6:9 encourages us not to grow weary in doing good. But we have to make room for the middle of the story. Psalm 23:4 doesn’t say we’ll never walk through dark valleys. It says we don’t walk through them alone. Sometimes you’ve got to go through a dark hallway to get from one room to another. You might not see the next door yet. But don’t mistake the hallway for the end of the story.
Take the next faithful step. Be patient with the work God is doing in you. Don’t compare your chapter two with somebody else’s chapter twenty. And don’t assume that because life is still hard, God isn’t near.

I love the life I have today. I wouldn’t erase the woman who struggled to get here. But looking back, I can see that the greatest blessing wasn’t the marriage, the house, the career, or even the ministry. It was discovering that I could walk through every season with Jesus. The gifts are wonderful, but they’re not the reason I follow Him. He is.

So if I could tell my younger self one thing, it wouldn’t be about what she’d someday have.

I’d tell her: Get to Jesus. Do not pass GO. Do not collect $200. Go directly to Jesus. Then…wait.

10/10/2026

📖 ARISE Community Spotlight: LifeWise East Porter County 📖

We’re excited to welcome LifeWise East Porter County to ARISE! 💛

LifeWise gives public school students the opportunity to learn about the Bible during the school day through parent-approved, privately funded classes held off school property. Lessons connect Bible stories with the gospel of Jesus and help students explore how faith shapes the way we love and treat others.

Stop by their booth to meet the local team, ask questions, and learn about their work in East Porter County. Whether you’re a parent interested in the program or someone looking for ways to get involved, they’d love to connect with you!

📅 October 23 | 5–10 PM
📍 Thomas Centennial Park, downtown Chesterton
🎶 Free outdoor worship, food trucks, and community booths!

Come worship with us and meet the people sharing the love of Jesus in our communities. 💛

Light The Way

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