Brian and I have been really fortunate to travel a lot this year. Quite a bit of it was work-related, but some for fun, too. We’ve travelled a lot over the years, but our trips the last few months have involved such spectacular views that there are days I feel like nothing is real. I swear I’m not becoming a conspiracy theorist but … am I living in a simulation? Here are just a few examples:

In April we were on a ferry boat cruising through the Aegean Sea, traveling from mainland Greece to Mykonos. We passed smaller islands that were densely populated with the white stucco houses and blue roofs that are typical of Mediterranean islands. I turned to Brian and asked, “is this a movie set?”

In May we were in NYC and the view from the top of the spiral stairs outside our hotel room made me marvel at the architecture and craftsmanship of people who were working before all the advancements in technology that automate so many of our creative tasks.

In June we were in Hocking Hills, a place many of us have probably experienced. The two mile hike was worth it when we got to a waterfall that had carved its way into existence over tens of thousands of years.

In July, we were in Pennsylvania on a vast tract of land that belongs to my family. It has been strip-mined for coal and limestone in the last few decades, but nature has already started to reclaim it.

Last month, we were in Denver to play for Angie’s daughter’s wedding. We had Saturday morning free and went to Garden of the Gods. It was breathtaking. It felt like we could have walked for hours and never gotten close enough to touch the rock formations we were looking at. I remember asking Brian how this could be real. I was so inspired I wrote myself a note to write a blog about it.

It’s easy to joke about living in a simulation when the world around us looks rendered by an artist with an impossible budget. But the deeper truth beneath that dizzying feeling is about perspective. Each of us walks around with our own little lens—our personal perception of reality shaped by our routines, our stress, our narrow vantage points, and the four walls we occupy day to day. We look at the Aegean and think "postcard." We look at Manhattan and think "history lesson." We look at scarred earth slowly turning green again and think "resilience."

Our individual glimpses are so small, so fragmented. Yet they all point to something vastly larger than what our eyes can digest in a single glance.

In our Lutheran tradition, we talk about a God who is incarnate—not distant or abstract, but woven deeply into the very matter of the world. Creation isn't a digital backdrop or an elaborate stage set designed for our entertainment; it is an ongoing, living expression of divine love.

There is a connective tissue underneath it all: an unfathomable reality that holds the Aegean waves, the ancient stone, the scarred hillsides, and the human hands laying brick together in one continuous, sacred story. When we encounter beauty so vast it makes us question our senses, maybe that isn't an illusion at all. Maybe it’s the rare moment our narrow perceptions finally crack open, giving us a brief, humbling look at the true reality God is constantly sustaining.

We don't all see the world through the same lens, and our experiences of daily life can feel worlds apart. But the grace of the Creator is that we are anchored in something much deeper than our own viewpoints. We are held together by a reality so wide, so patient, and so generous that even when it looks unreal, it is the truest thing there is.

Yours on the journey,

John Johns, Director of Music

There is something uniquely beautiful about gathering with others to worship, serve and share God’s love. Whenever I look around during worship or as we serve together, I am reminded of the power of community and how God is working among us. My heart is full when I see the wonderfully diverse group of people that gather on Sundays to worship or whenever there is a need to serve or live generously. We have varied talents and personalities that mesh to build a foundation that is centered in the teachings of Jesus. First, love God and second, love your neighbor (Matthew 22:37-40).

We experienced this firsthand during our recent rummage sale to benefit our youth for mission trips and the ELCA (Evangelical Lutheran Church of America) Youth Gathering in Minneapolis next summer. An event of that scale doesn’t just happen; it was brought to life through the fellowship of a determined group of people who showed up day after day or an hour or two when they could. It took an incredible collective effort to price and sort mountains of donations, set up endless rows of tables, and handle the daunting work of cleaning up. It required folks willing to pick up items and many hands to lift and carry which included the people that sorted and donated items in their own home to bring to LOL. It also took people to cook hot dogs, organize snacks and feed hungry volunteers. We had someone who used her skills to post high-value items on social media to bring in bigger money, and someone who curated a lovely display at checkout for those last-minute impulsive purchases. Every sorted box and carried couch was an act of love and service in action. Together, we laughed, learned about each other, lifted each other up and made $9300 to support our youth!

We then rolled right into a week with our ministry partner, Family Promise of Butler County, where a team reset the fellowship, yet again, to create three bedrooms for families that are experiencing homelessness. We may not all be working together at the exact time but there is a beautiful handing off of serving opportunities. The person that brought dinner passes off the care of the families to the person who hangs out with the family after dinner (this week has been filled with paper airplane making and test flights in our back field) who then tags the people who will spend the night. There are always beautiful opportunities to meet new people and build relationships in handing off the care of the families we are lovingly hosting.

Each time we gather together, I am reminded of how the Holy Spirit works among us at that singular time and place in all of history. When we commit to showing up for one another, we unlock something powerful. Together we have the potential to grow and thrive more than we would on our own. Our individual spark becomes a roaring fire when fueled by collective energy when God is working among us.

Honored to gather with you,
Angie Seiller, Director of Faith Formation

Autumn is my favorite season. Cooler temperatures, marching band competitions, walks in the woods, and cinnamon ice cream usher in a different kind of refreshment after a steamy Southwest Ohio summer.

As I write, the Lord of Life building is bulging with donated items for our annual rummage sale. Furniture, glassware, books, records, toys, puzzles, sporting goods, tools, and holiday decorations fill countless spaces throughout the building as we prepare for the biggest youth ministry fundraiser of the year. Thank you for sorting through storage areas and letting go of stuff to make this a success.

It has been a gift to hear stories about items as I helped unload vehicles this week. “This belonged to my grandma.” “Would you believe we bought this on our honeymoon?” “My parents are downsizing, so we need to make room for all their things I’m inheriting.”

Family heirlooms, wedding gifts, children’s toys, and office supplies find their way to the rummage sale for various reasons. Some items are well-worn and have offered years of enjoyment, while others are still in their original packaging, never opened or put into service. Many were an easy choice to donate. Others came with reluctance and hedging.

Beyond the outgrown soccer cleats and dusty picture frames, there are situations which are difficult to release. Saying farewell to our childhood home can break our heart. Fractured relationships which never heal, but slowly drift further apart until all that is left is silence, leave us gasping for breath. The death of a life-long friend or family member brings a lingering grief we can’t shake. What do we do with these painful moments?

Songwriter Brian Spahr was with us a few weeks ago and sang about his own garage sale:

It’s hard to let things go
It’s hard to let things go

Watching it go feels like lonely relief
Some things need to end to make room for my peace
There’s freedom that comes when I loosen my hold on
All of that garbage that once felt like gold ©2025 Brian Spahr Music

In his letter to the Ephesians, Paul encourages that community to make more space in their lives for the ways of God. He tells them to “[get] rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you” (Ephesians 4:31-32).

How beautiful it can be to let things go. In the coming weeks, “the trees are about to show us how beautiful it is to let go.” Marvel at the ways the leaves change colors and prepare to let go. Ponder how gently they are released. Wonder at the season of rest settling in for the host tree and all the good things of spring to come.

This is your invitation from Jesus to drop off your bitterness, rage, and anger. Hand over your regret, shame, and guilt to the One who promises to lighten your load. All the other clutter taking up real estate in your heart, soul, mind, and spirit, pass it off to our God of love. “Cast all your burdens on Jesus because he cares for you” (1 Peter 5:7).

Trying to clean house,

Pastor Lowell

If you know me, you won’t be shocked to know that sometimes I get my tasks done at the very last minute. It isn’t always because I didn’t plan ahead. Sometimes Pastor Lowell and I have a last-minute idea about worship and we find ourselves rushing to pull it off. Sometimes I overestimate my ability to get something done in the ample time I have. And sometimes I have done my best to plan and execute a project and forces outside my control work against me. Rush.

This weekend, I’m really excited to be in Denver with Brian playing for the wedding of Olivia Seiller, Angie’s daughter, and her soon-to-be husband, Jack. If you’ve planned, helped to plan, or been involved with a wedding, you know how much thought and preparation goes into it. I’m only responsible for the music, and I can tell you that my own planning had to start months ago. Since I’m not on my home turf, I had to contact the venue to see if they had a piano. They didn’t. I found a place to rent a keyboard for the weekend. Do I need my own amplification? I contacted the DJ to see if we could share. Can Brian travel with his violin? Do I own dress shoes? You might think I’m kidding on that last one…Rush.

Those are just my tasks. And my best efforts aside, I still found myself panicking because I hadn’t heard from the piano rental place in a while, learning new music at the last minute because I decided I liked a song I just heard, getting things ready for other people to lead worship on Sunday, writing a blog (the one you’re reading now), and… throwing a pair of Brian’s shoes in the suitcase for me to wear because no, I don’t own a pair of dress shoes. Seriously. Rush.

I can only imagine how much work other people have put into their own parts of this event that will be so special for Olivia and Jack. Rush.

Yet at some point before the prelude starts, all of that frantic energy has to give way.

In music, there’s an essential moment before anyone enters the sanctuary: tuning the space. You sit down in an unfamiliar room, place your hands on the keys, and play a chord or two to hear the sound. You aren’t performing; you’re simply listening to how the sound carries, finding the room's resonance, and settling into the stillness.

It’s a gentle reminder of where our focus actually belongs. In life—and in church life—it’s easy to get consumed by logistics, schedules, and checklists. But worship, like a wedding, isn't about orchestrating a flawless production. It’s about receiving God’s grace, which is already present long before we show up.

Before the chatter begins and the processional starts, that holy pause resets everything. The scramble to travel, the borrowed shoes, and the rental keyboards fade into the background. All that truly matters is the sacred promise Olivia and Jack are about to make before God and their community.

Whether we’re gathered on Sunday morning back home or in Denver this weekend, the invitation is the same: stop rushing, take a breath, and let the room be still. God is already here.

Yours in the stillness,

John

This is the time of year that, as I put out a fresh batch of hummingbird sugar-water, I wonder if it will be the last time for the season. I want to be sure to leave the fuel that sustains them on their journey out for as long as they need it. The hummingbirds will travel on their 1500 - 2000 mile journey through America, across the Gulf to Mexico and South America. They drink as much as they can to double their size to travel the distance. The sweet nectar is their lifeline.

A hummingbird doesn’t look at a map, and it doesn’t wait for signs in the sky to tell it that winter is coming. It responds to an internal, instinctual pull to migrate. These little creatures, that weigh less than a nickel, embark on an incredible journey.

Faith can operate on a similar internal compass. It is the quiet, persistent nudge that tells us there is more to our existence than the immediate horizon. We cannot see our destination, and we certainly can’t see the path across the expanse of our lives, yet we are pulled towards hope and purpose in Jesus even when the journey is difficult.

One of the amazing parts of a hummingbird’s journey is its endurance. They cross the ocean against headwinds and cresting waves. Their little wings beat 80 times per second as they skim across the water.

When our faith is wavering and the waves are crashing, we often assume we are doing something wrong because it feels difficult. We wonder why we are tired, why we have doubts, and why progress feels slow. Fighting the headwinds doesn’t mean you are failing, it means you are moving forward, even if it’s hard. It is completely natural to have struggles and doubts when it comes to our faith. Like the hummingbird, each little beat of its wing moves them forward, God is continually with us in our steps forward on our faith journey.

We are never flying alone. If God’s hand is steady enough to guide a tiny bird to the far side of the sea, God will hold us through our transitions and carry us further than our own strength ever could.

What fuel do you need to move forward in hope and purpose in Jesus? Quiet time for prayer, Sunday morning worship, a conversation over coffee with a friend, sweet chocolate 😊, a daily devotion, time outdoors or with music, stepping into a Bible or Book study, etc. Just one little step forward…

As Psalm 139:9-10 reminds us:

"If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast."

Journeying with you in faith,
Angie Seiller, Director of Faith Formation

My family has been going to the shores of Anna Maria Island in Florida for over 30 years. My sweetie Tera and I wrapped up my final days of sabbatical recently with another week in the blazing sun on the white sand beaches there. Nestled on the edge of the Southwest Channel connecting Tampa Bay to the Gulf of Mexico, Anna Maria is a slice of paradise far away from the high rise condos and traffic bustle of other coastal communities.

If you’ve been there, you know the beauty and various personalities of Anna Maria, Holmes, Manatee, Bradenton, Cortez, and Coquina beaches. Each one is lovely in their own distinct way. Each time we go, I am eager to explore these familiar places and also discover how the island has changed.

One of my deep joys includes seeing how the tides and winds have reshaped the island since my last trip. While so much remains the same, there are always shifts in dunes and shorelines. This was especially noticeable on this visit since I hadn’t been there for several years.

You may remember that October 2024 brought back-to-back hurricanes which devastated the area. Hurricane Helene and Hurricane Milton handed Anna Maria and western Florida a lethal blow from which they are still recovering. Billions of dollars in damage and loss of lives are fresh wounds in the community. Several businesses and homes are still under repair, while other plots of land have been wiped clean for a fresh start. Through it all, the waves of the Gulf continue to roll ashore in their life-giving cycle of ebb and flow.

My return to Lord of Life has me filled with excitement. Not only am I thrilled for our moments of reunion and connection, but September brings anticipation as we lean into familiar rhythms of autumn life together. Sure, there are favorite places to land with people and patterns we love, but there are also a variety of new places and patterns for us to discover together. I invite you to consider:

How are the winds of creation and the breath of God reshaping you?
How is the constant ebb and flow of baptismal promises bringing you renewal?
How do the storms of life reshape your heart, mind, and life?
If they’ve destroyed you, how is God working in you to build for the next season?

Thank you again for the gift of time away for rest and renewal. It was a tremendous blessing that filled and fueled me. I’m excited to explore and discover the landscape of our lives in Christ with you this year.

Please be sure to join me on Sunday, September 20, 5:30 - 7:30 pm for a Summer Sabbatical Celebration. We’ll share a meal together and then settle in for a sabbatical recap. Please RSVP by emailing Jillian (This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.).

Being shaped by God’s love,

Pastor Lowell