Wesley Memorial UMC

05/08/2026

This time of year, the world feels alive in a new way. Trees are full again. Flowers are open. What once looked bare now carries color and life. For a long time, it can seem like nothing is happening, and then almost all at once, something hidden begins to show itself. All around us, the world is reminding us that what seemed gone has not been lost. Life has a way of returning.

On May 8, 1373, a woman named Julian of Norwich, an English woman living in the city of Norwich, was very sick and close to death. A priest had been called, and those around her did not think she would live through the night. Julian lived in a time marked by the Black Death, when loss and fear were close to everyday life. During her lifetime, nearly half the population of England is believed to have died from the plague. But in that moment, something unexpected happened. Instead of slipping away, Julian began to experience a series of visions of Jesus and divine love that would shape the rest of her life. She would later spend her years in prayer and reflection, holding onto what she had seen. Those visions would eventually become the book Revelations of Divine Love, one of the earliest known books in English written by a woman. From that place, so close to death, Julian later shared words that have been carried through the centuries: “All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.” These are not easy words. They are not spoken from comfort. They rise out of a life that knew suffering, loss, and uncertainty.

Julian was not saying that everything would be easy or that pain would disappear. She trusted something deeper. She believed that even in the hardest moments, God was present, carrying all things, and that love would have the final word. That same promise meets us today. There are times when life feels fractured, and the way forward is hard to see. In those moments, it can be difficult to believe that anything is being held together. But this is where these words begin to matter most. “All shall be well” does not turn away from what is real. Beneath what we can see, God is still at work, restoring what feels undone. It is a reminder that the deepest truth about our lives is love, not fear.

The longing within us for healing, connection, and peace is not something we create. It is something given, the life of God within us, drawing us toward what is good and whole. This is the same trust the apostle Paul gives voice to when he writes that nothing in all creation can separate us from the love of God (Romans 8:38–39). Not life or death. Not things present or things to come. Not anything we face or anything we fear. Love holds. And this promise is not only for one moment. It reaches across time and into our lives, into our communities, and into the world.

So, on this day, May 8, we remember both how life can feel fragile and the nearness of God. We remember that even in moments when life feels uncertain, something deeper is holding us. And we trust this promise: All shall be well. Not because everything is easy, but because God is here, holding what we cannot hold and carrying it in love. Thanks be to God. Amen.

Blessings,

Joshua

03/30/2026

Yesterday night at The Table I shared this reflection about the beauty of a dogwood.

Each spring the dogwood trees bloom. Their branches fill with white and soft pink blossoms that seem to float in the air. For a short time they are everywhere along roadsides, in yards, and at the edge of the woods. And then, just as quickly, they are gone. The blooms fall, the leaves grow, and the moment passes. Dogwoods do not stay in bloom for long. Their beauty is brief, and you have to notice it while it is here.

Life can feel uncertain, especially when days are hard. When you are carrying a lot, it can be easy to think nothing good is around you. But even in difficult seasons, small moments still appear. A warm cup of coffee. A kind word. A place to sit and rest. A good meal. A laugh that catches you by surprise . A breath of fresh air on a cool morning. These moments may not last long, but while they are here, they are real. They are signs that beauty has not disappeared.

Scripture says, “This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it (Psalm 118:24).” These words do not mean every day feels easy. They remind us that even this day, just as it is, still holds something worth receiving. Each day carries the possibility of hope, even in the middle of struggle.

The dogwood reminds us to notice what is here today, even a small moment of peace, even a brief glimpse of hope. It may not stay long, but while it is here, it matters.

Prayer,
God, help us notice the small gifts in this day. When life feels hard, give us eyes for hope. Hold us in this moment. Amen.

Blessings,

Joshua

03/27/2026

This is the fourth and final reflection on why we do The Table. It gathers everything into one simple truth: God keeps inviting, and there is still room.

Why do we have the ministry, The Table? We do The Table because God keeps inviting. The chairs stay open and the door stays unlocked.

In St. Luke’s Gospel, chapter 14:15–24, Jesus tells a story about a man who prepares a large dinner and sends word that everything is ready. The table has been set, and the meal has been prepared, yet the guests who were first invited begin to make excuses. One says that he has bought a field and needs to see it. Another says that he has purchased oxen and must try them out. Another says that he has just been married and cannot come. One by one the invitations are turned aside.

When the host hears this, he does not close the table or cancel the meal. Instead, the host tells his servant to go quickly into the streets and the lanes of the town and bring in the poor, the disabled, the blind, and the lame. When there is still room at the table, the servant is sent again, this time out along the roads and the country paths, so that the house may be filled.

The story shows something important about the heart of God. God does not stop inviting when people turn away. The invitation continues to move outward. The circle grows wider. There is still room at the table. God’s welcome does not shrink. It expands.

This is why we do The Table. We trust that God is always inviting people into life, into belonging, and into hope. We do not decide ahead of time who will come or who will stay. We simply keep the table ready. At times, new faces appear, and on other evenings familiar friends return. People may stay a long time, while others pass through for only a short while, and through it all the welcome remains the same. Laughter fills the room on certain nights, and on others the conversation is thoughtful and unhurried. At times, someone simply sits and breathes, and still the welcome remains.

At The Table, the chairs stay open. The door stays unlocked. The invitation continues, because God’s welcome never runs out. This is why we do, The Table. Thanks be to God. Amen.

Blessings,

Joshua

03/20/2026

Why do we have the ministry, The Table? Our church gives its time, prayers, and resources because The Table shows what God’s kingdom looks like, a place where no seat matters more than another and every life carries dignity.

In St. Luke’s Gospel, chapter 14:7–14, Jesus is watching how people choose their seats at a meal. Some try to sit in places of honor. They want to be seen. They want to matter more than others. Jesus tells them not to rush to the best seat. Instead, he says to take a lower place. He teaches that those who lift themselves up will be brought down, and those who lower themselves will be lifted up.

Then Jesus speaks to the host. When you give a banquet, do not invite only friends, family, or people who can repay you. Instead, invite those who are poor, disabled, lame, and blind. Invite those who cannot pay you back. Invite those who are often left out. Jesus is showing what God’s kingdom looks like. At God’s table, honor is not earned. Status does not decide worth. The table becomes a place of shared dignity, where each person is seen as a child of God.

At The Table, in one conversation, someone was asked where they had felt seen, and the answer came quickly: “here.” Another person shared that they were nervous to come because they had not always felt welcome in church, but at The Table they felt at ease and able to stay. This is why we do The Table. We make room for one another.

At The Table, humility is not about thinking less of ourselves. It is about thinking of others with care. It is about believing that no seat matters more than another. When people sit side by side, when food and conversation are shared without ranking one another, something holy begins to take shape right there among us.

Jesus teaches that the table can become a place of pride, or it can become a place of shared dignity. With The Table, we choose the second way. We make room. We share dignity. We sit together. This is our why at The Table.

Blessings,

Joshua

03/19/2026

We had the opportunity to share about The Table at Wesley Memorial UMC on Talk Radio 102.3 today.

We spoke about why this ministry matters and how something as simple as gathering around a table can open the door to connection, belonging, and meaningful relationships.

This link includes the full 7:00 AM hour of the show. Our segment begins around 7:35 AM.

We are grateful for all who have been part of The Table and the life that continues to grow through it each week.

Take a listen when you have a few minutes.

Our guests are Mickey McCamish, who is in charge of the concert series Riverfront Nights, as well as Reverend Josh Felton of Wesley United Methodist Church.

03/18/2026

The Table Reflection and Circle Prayer last Sunday, March 15.

One of the quiet wonders of life is the way morning arrives. At first the sky is dark. The night can feel long. Then the horizon begins to change. A little color appears. Light spreads across the sky and slowly touches the ground. Morning arrives one gentle moment at a time.

Life can feel like a long night sometimes. There are seasons when the path feels unclear. There are days when the weight feels heavy. There are moments when it seems like nothing is changing. In the same way, there is often work happening quietly within us, even when we do not notice it. Your heart can carry questions. Your mind can turn over worries. The road ahead can feel hard to see. But God is at work even before we know it.

But morning still comes. The light does not rush. It rises slowly until the whole sky is bright. In the same way God often works quietly in our lives, bringing light and new life even before we know it. Scripture says, “Weeping may stay for the night, but joy comes in the morning (Psalm 30:5).” That promise has carried many through long nights.

If today feels dark, it does not mean the light is gone. Morning is still on its way. And even when you cannot see it yet, the light is already rising. Even when your night feels long, new life is still finding its way toward you. Even when you cannot see it yet, light is already beginning to rise around you. Even now, new beginnings are already stirring within you.

The same light that rises over the horizon is also rising within your heart. The light that fills the morning sky is a reminder of God’s faithful presence. The One who brings light to the world is also bringing light to your life. And even now, the light is rising within you. And the morning will come.

03/13/2026

Why do we have the ministry called The Table? Our church gives time, prayers, and resources to The Table because real life shows up at the table. Tears, stories, and truth arrive that cannot always be planned or controlled.

In St. Luke’s Gospel, chapter 7:36–50, Jesus is eating at the home of a Pharisee. The meal has been carefully arranged and the table has been set, with each guest understanding their place. Then a woman enters the room who is known in the town as a sinner. Her presence makes the others uneasy. She stands behind Jesus and begins to cry. Her tears fall on his feet. She wipes them with her hair and pours perfume on them. The room grows tense as people begin to question the woman and silently question Jesus.

Jesus does not pull away from this woman or shame her for interrupting the meal. Instead, he tells a story about two people who owed money, one who owed a small amount and one who owed a great deal. Both debts were forgiven by the lender. Jesus then asks Simon, the Pharisee, which one of these debtors would love the lender more. The answer becomes clear that the one who was forgiven more would respond with greater love. Then Jesus turns toward the woman and says, “Your sins are forgiven.” He also tells her, “Your faith has saved you. Go in peace.”

The moment makes the others uncomfortable because it does not fit their expectations, and the dinner is interrupted in a way they did not plan. Yet Jesus honors this woman’s love, receives her tears, and speaks peace over her life. What others wanted to push aside, Jesus receives with compassion.

This is why we do The Table. Real life shows up here as well. People bring grief, regret, gratitude, and hope, and not every story is neat or easy to explain. Sometimes tears come. Sometimes silence lingers. Sometimes joy appears in unexpected ways. At The Table, love is not turned away and honest stories are not rushed.

Jesus made room for love even when others felt uneasy. In the same way, no one has to hide their past to have a seat at The Table.

Thanks be to God. Amen.

Blessings,

Joshua