From the Pastor's Desk...
- T.J. Lucas
- Aug 1
- 4 min read
Beloved Church Family,
After a much-needed vacation, it’s good to be back with you.
I know many of you have gotten used to our regular rhythm of Dwelling in the Word and Visio Divina each week to help prepare for Sunday’s message—and rest assured, we’ll return to that rhythm soon. But today, I wanted to offer something different: a letter from my heart, and I hope a space for yours too.
One of the dreams I carry for our church blog is that it becomes more than just a space to hear from me—it becomes a space where God’s voice, your voices, and the heartbeat of the Church—both near and far—can live together. So even when I’m not posting a structured devotional, I hope what you find here is still something sacred.
Our trip to Hershey didn’t involve the usual chocolate tour or gift shop (the crowds were wild!), but in some ways, that opened the door for something better. We didn’t take many photos—except for one of a particularly beautiful acai bowl—but we were fully present. Laughing, riding roller coasters (with my trusty Dramamine every four hours), and making memories together.

And maybe that’s how it should be sometimes—less documenting, more living. I only get this time with my girls once. And I’ve been reflecting on how different their childhood is from mine. As the oldest, I was parentified young. I cooked, cleaned, and helped raise my brothers. I was deeply loved, but I carried a lot early on. I’ve tried to let my daughters be kids a little longer. They still help out and have responsibilities, but I protect their lightness and let them be young while they still can. And I’m grateful they carry that light with them.
This week’s scriptures brought those reflections into focus. In Ruth 1, we find a story not of romance, but of loyalty in the midst of grief. Ruth’s words to Naomi—“Where you go, I will go”—aren’t about knowing what’s ahead, but choosing to stay anyway. That’s what love often looks like—not fixing, but walking alongside.
And in John 19, Jesus, in His final moments, creates something lasting—not through a miracle, but through relationship. “Here is your son… here is your mother.” He builds new family in the midst of sorrow. These passages remind us that healing doesn’t always come in dramatic gestures. Sometimes it comes through quiet faithfulness, deep presence, and connection that holds through the storm.
This Sunday, we return to worship at 9:30 AM, and it’s Communion Sunday. Please remember to bring nonperishable food items to support our pantry. Extending Christ’s table spiritually also means extending it practically—so that others can be fed, in body and soul.
And don’t forget, this Saturday is the community yard sale. Stop by the church, say hello, and support your neighbors and our shared ministry in a simple but meaningful way.
We’re also nearing the end of our current sermon series, and I’m excited to share that a new one is in the works for fall. It’s called Rooted. Each month, we’ll dig into a foundational Christian truth or practice—what grounds us and nourishes our faith. In September, we’ll explore what it means to be Rooted in Scripture; in October, we’ll focus on Rooted in Prayer; and in November, we’ll reflect on being Rooted in Community. Along the way, we’ll touch on some of our denomination’s history and begin conversations about some of the big changes coming in the near future—both for us and for the wider church.
Other things to note...
You’ll also see us out and about this month! We’re planning to have a table at the August 17th Picnic in the Park with kids crafts, and on August 30th at 3 PM, our church will be the second stop on the community Prayer Walk for Recovery. We are here to support you where ever you are on life's journey! These are small but powerful ways to live out our faith beyond Sunday mornings.
I’m feeling called to offer more consistent communication with all of you—so beginning this month, I’ll be writing a monthly pastoral letter. Consider it a check-in, a reflection, and an invitation to stay grounded together in spirit and purpose as the seasons shift.
So as we turn the corner toward fall, may we be like Ruth—faithful not because we know the outcome, but because love calls us to stay. And may we be like the beloved disciple—open to forming new bonds in the places where grief has torn something apart.
Let us pray: God of quiet vows and cross-shaped love, thank you for walking beside us in both joy and sorrow. Teach us to be people who stay—who show up not with quick fixes, but with steady hearts. May we extend your table through acts of justice, through offerings of food and kindness, and through lives lived in grace. Knit us together like Ruth and Naomi, like Mary and the disciple, like the family you formed at the cross. And when we can’t see what’s ahead, help us walk faithfully anyway. In the name of Jesus, who always stays. Amen.
Brightest Blessings,
Rev. TJ Lucas
Lead Pastor, The Reformed Church




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