Still Saying Yes

Sixteen years ago, my young family walked into Sunset Ridge and found home. We had moved across the country for Nathan’s work, and this church welcomed us with a warmth that made us want to stay. We never left.

This past Sunday, at our Welcome Brunch, I found myself remembering that arrival and all that has happened since.

I have seen Sunset Ridge in many forms. Pews filled, then slowly emptying. I was in the room when a consultant told us the best thing we could do was slowly sunset the church. And I was there when our elders made the courageous decision to hope.

But this really wasn’t a surprise. Audacious courage and radical welcome have deep roots here.

In the 1950s, yes to a gospel of grace. In the 1990s, yes to women leading in the church. More recently, yes to tearing up parking lots and opening our campus so our neighbors could know they are loved by a good God, even if they never step inside the church building.

Again and again, people arrived carrying possibilities we could not have imagined. Coffee. A school. A farmers market. A pizza truck. Neighbors looking at our sad little dirt patch in the parking lot and asking if they could plant a garden.

God’s provision so often had a face, a name, and a dream.

And God continues to provide through you.

Some of you have been here for years. You kept showing up, kept loving, kept making room for a future you could not yet see. Some of you have arrived more recently, bringing your stories and discovering whether this might be home.

You, in all of your multifaceted, God-image-bearing beauty, bring hopes, questions, hard-earned wisdom, and your particular way of noticing the world. Who you are has shaped this church, and who you are will shape who we become.

A moment of prater together at Sunday’s Welcome Brunch

At Sunday’s brunch, I felt the wonder of all of this coming together. The faithfulness that made room. The new faces and stories filling that room with possibility.

For years, we dreamed of a day like this. And here we are, together.

Our deepest hope is that you have found home. The kind where you can kick off your shoes, curl up on the couch, and be safe and loved, no matter what version of you arrives.

Together, we are walking one another back Home into the abiding love of God. We remind one another whose we are and allow that belonging to shape who we become. From this place, we follow Jesus, reach people, and radiate God’s love and hope to all.

What dream are you carrying? Where might God be inviting your next yes? Bring it into our shared life.

From this rich heritage, we open our hands to the new thing God is doing.

And I have a feeling we are just getting started.

With love and hope,
Jess