PEARL STREET UNITED METHODIST CHURCH

"‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’" —Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV)  It’s likely that at some point, you’ve paused to think over the journey that brought you to this moment. From your place of birth to where you are today, countless decisions have shaped your path—some made by others, some made by you. And for most of us, that journey hasn’t been a straight line. It includes detours

“In their hearts humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps.” — Proverbs 16:9 (NIV) In our lives, we spend a lot of time making plans. If we were fortunate, we may have had a few young years when the adults made the plans. Then, in our teens, a new responsibility descends. By high school, we’re expected—brains still maturing—to decide what comes next: work, trade, college. We plan for careers, homes, and retirement. We plan, plan, and plan. But sometimes,

“Whoever claims to live in him must live as Jesus did.” —1 John 2:6 (NIV) You may know someone who says they’re a “cat person”—but when Fluffy approaches, they recoil. It’s a lighthearted example, but it reveals something deeper: when our claims don’t match our actions, we’re not being honest. Scripture has a word for this: hypocrisy. And 1 John doesn’t shy away from calling us to integrity. If we say we live in Christ, our lives must reflect His. Verses 3–5 offer a litmus te

“I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” — Galatians 2:20 (NIV) In a world of carefully curated social profiles and self-made identities, Paul’s declaration hits like a thunderclap:  “I no longer live.” What does that mean for someone navigating the pressures of modern life—career, family, social expectations? To be “crucified with

“Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ.” —Romans 5:1 (NIV) Imagine standing in a courtroom. You’ve been charged with trespassing—caught entering a condemned building. But you weren’t there to cause harm. You were responding to a phone call for help. A friend was taking refuge inside during a winter storm. You brought them hot coffee, food, and blankets. The law says you broke the rules. But the judge listen

Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. —Philippians 4:8 (NIV) Anyone who has read these devotions for a while knows I have a fascination with words—how they carry weight, how they shift over time, how they're used and misused, and how scripture often reclaims them for holy purpose. Words like "grace," "peace," "hope"—

“So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.” — 2 Corinthians 4:18 (NIV) We live in a world shaped by forces we cannot see. Not only do we trust them—we build entire systems and industries around them. Electricity powers our homes, though we never see the current. Financial markets rise and fall on invisible trust. Healthcare, technology, and even relationships rely on unseen forces like energy

"Be strong and take heart, all you who hope in the Lord." — Psalm 31:24 (NIV) Have you ever received well-intentioned advice that doesn’t quite hit the mark? Maybe someone said, “Just stay positive,” or “Hang in there.” It’s not wrong—but it’s not always helpful either. If you’re in the middle of grief, anxiety, or exhaustion, those words can feel like trying to use an umbrella in a nor'easter in the wind tunnels of downtown Boston. Today’s verse begins with one of those phra

Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. —Ephesians 6:11 NIV When a soldier prepares for battle, no one says, “Just grab the helmet—you’ll be fine.” Every piece of gear matters. From boots to body armor, shield to communication tools, each item serves a purpose. Without full coverage, the risk is too great. The imprisoned apostle Paul knew this. Writing to the church in Ephesus, he urged them to “put on the full armor of God.”

Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” — John 14:6 (NRSV) Every journey begins with a decision: where are we going, and how will we get there? Whether we’re planning a vacation, relocating, or simply heading out for the day, we rely on maps, signs, and digital guides to help us navigate. But beneath the surface of our daily travels lies a deeper question—one that echoes through every step we take: What is

“Then he said to his disciples, ‘The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field.’” — Matthew 9:37–38 (NIV) Thanks to our beekeeping neighbor, our apple tree produced abundant fruit this year. We could tell in the spring simply by the number of buds that it was going to be a bountiful harvest. We witnessed the full cycle from buds to blossoms to nascent fruit to beautiful red delicious apples

“And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.” —2 Corinthians 3:18 (NIV) Last evening, I sat beside a faithful servant of Christ in what was likely her final hours—or perhaps her final days. As I watched her gentle breathing, I sensed a peace that felt holy. It was as if the veil between this life and the next was already beginning to lift, gentl

“For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God— not the result of works, so that no one may boast.” — Ephesians 2:8-9 (NRSVUE) Grace. It’s a word we’ve heard often enough. It can be used to address royalty, to describe someone who moves with elegance, or to refer to the prayer we say before a meal. But for Christians, grace holds a deeper, sacred meaning. It is not just a word—it is the heartbeat of our salvation, the gi

“Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me.” — Psalm 51:10 (NIV) There are moments in life when we come face to face with the truth of ourselves—not the curated version we present to others, but the raw, unfiltered reality of our choices, our failures, our longings. This psalm is believed to have been written after David’s affair with Bathsheba and the prophet Nathan’s confrontation—a moment of moral failure and prophetic truth-telling. And i

“I thank my God every time I remember you.” — Philippians 1:3 (NIV) While waiting outside a restaurant recently, I overheard two teenage girls walking by. One said, “The arcade makes me so nostalgic.” I smiled to myself—nostalgia at seventeen? But it reminded me: we’re never too young or too old to remember with fondness. Whether it’s a place, a moment, or a person, memory has a way of stirring gratitude. Nostalgia can be lighthearted—a flash of joy from a childhood arcade—bu

"The name of the Lord is a fortified tower; the righteous run to it and are safe.” —Proverbs 18:10 (NIV) Recently, Janice and I took our grandson William to see the Minecraft movie. At one point, the characters flee to a tower to escape danger—perhaps from the pig-like villain Malgosha or the silent, explosive Creepers (William would know!).  That scene reminded me how deeply embedded the image of the tower is in our collective imagination. Whether in ancient Jerusalem or pix

"Then Jesus declared, 'I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.'" —John 6:35 (NIV) Step into a bakery, and the first thing that greets you is the aroma—warm, earthy, comforting. Then your eyes scan the shelves: sourdough, rye, challah, ciabatta. Bread is more than food—it’s memory, culture, comfort. It’s what we pass across tables in love and in need. Sharing bread is a gesture of hospitality, reconcil

“The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.” — John 1:14 (NIV) The first sentence of this verse stuns me every time: “The Word became flesh.”  God—eternal, holy, beyond comprehension—chose to take on skin and bone, not as a distant deity, but as one who walked our streets, shared our meals, and entered our pain. This is not a myth or a metaphor. It is the r

For in the gospel the righteousness of God is revealed—a righteousness that is by faith from first to last, just as it is written: “The righteous will live by faith.” Romans 1:17 (NIV) We love to receive good news. It might arrive as a joyful announcement—a wedding invitation, the birth of a child, or a medical breakthrough. Sometimes it’s spoken aloud in worship, as a prayer answered or a burden lifted. Good news has a way of stirring hope and inviting celebration. When we h

“The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield and the horn of my salvation, my...