01/25/2026
God morning, Church,
On this very cold and snowy Sunday, I find myself sitting quietly with a steaming cup of coffee and a small stack of quilt books, yes, quilt books, not Bibles or devotionals, as I write to you. And as I do, my prayer is simple and sincere: that you are warm, safe, and wrapped in care this morning.
Days like today are never planned, and the decision to cancel worship is never easy. There is always the quiet worry that someone may not get the word, that someone might feel overlooked, or that someone might carry the burden of clearing walkways and parking lots at the expense of their own safety. Please know this decision comes from a place of deep love. Caring for the people of God sometimes means saying, Stay home. Rest. Be safe. It is an act of love that says, You matter. Your well-being matters.
Today, I invite you to receive this unexpected pause as Sabbath, a gift of rest, and to tend to your relationship with the One who created you, knows you, and loves you beyond all measure.
Though we are not gathered in the sanctuary this morning, we remain deeply connected. And so today, let us turn our hearts toward prayer, not simply as something we do, but as a relationship we live. Prayer is not measured by the right words or perfect phrases. It is measured by presence. By time spent. By trust offered and received.
Our journey this week begins with Jesus’ response to the disciples’ honest and vulnerable question in Matthew 6:9–13: “Lord, teach us how to pray.” What Jesus gives them, and gives us, is far more than a prayer to recite. It is an invitation into a relationship. Each line draws us closer to a God who longs to be known, not as distant or demanding, but as loving, attentive, and near. “Our Father” reminds us we belong. “Give us this day” teaches us to trust daily. “Forgive us” calls us into grace. Prayer, at its heart, is learning how to live in relationship with a God who desires to dwell with humanity.
As we reflected last week, our faith journeys often resemble a labyrinth, winding, personal, sometimes slow, never rushed. Each of us walks that path differently. Our individual prayer practices, those quiet, faithful, often unseen moments- draw us deeper into a relationship with God. And when we come together as a community, we discover that even though our paths differ, our longing is shared. We are people seeking connection with God and with one another.
On this snowy Sunday morning, I want to share a glimpse of my own prayer practice. As I cut pieces of fabric into small squares and then stitch them back together, I pray, one prayer in every stitch. I think about how the world, our culture, and even our own fears can cut the fabric of our lives and our faith into pieces. And as I sew, I pray, trusting that God is the One who gently stitches us back together. What emerges is a mosaic, a tapestry stronger than the individual pieces alone, offering warmth, comfort, protection from the cold, and a peace that truly passes all understanding.
So today, I will spend time in prayer, close, intimate prayer, with a God who desires nothing more than to be present with us. A God who meets us in every storm, whether stirred by nature or by life itself. My prayer is that you, too, will make space this day to draw near, to listen, and to rest in the presence of the One who holds every thread.
Let us pray:
Gracious and loving God,
Teach us to pray—not only with our words, but with our lives.
Stitch together what has been torn.
Warm what has grown cold.
And draw us into a deeper relationship with You and with one another.
Be present with us this day and always.
Amen.
Grace and peace to you,
and know that you are deeply loved.
GLYASDI Pastor Michelle
