Prairie Creek Fellowship

05/25/2026

Today-We Honor
Be: Dave Lawless

Memorial Day invites us to pause and remember. It calls us to live out the words of Romans 13:7 by offering genuine honor to those who deserve it. Today we honor the men and women who gave their lives in service to our country. Their sacrifice was not distant or symbolic—it was deeply personal. They were sons and daughters, friends and neighbors, people with hopes and futures they willingly laid down so others could live in freedom.

Their courage reflects the kind of love Jesus spoke of—the love that puts others first, even at great cost. As we remember them, we do so with gratitude for the freedoms we enjoy and with a renewed desire to live lives marked by integrity, humility, and compassion. Honoring the fallen means more than remembering their names; it means choosing to live in a way that reflects the values they defended. It means praying for our nation, supporting those who serve today, and seeking peace in our homes, our communities, and our relationships. And above all, it means anchoring our hope in Christ, whose sacrifice brings a deeper and lasting freedom no earthly power can provide.

To the Americans who stepped forward when they were called, and to the brave men and women who gave their lives in service to this country, thank you. We hold close the families who carry that sacrifice every day, the parents who raised them, the siblings who miss them, the children who cherish their memory, and the spouses who live with both pride and heartbreak. Your sacrifice will never be forgotten. There are no words that can truly match what has been given or what has been lost. But with grateful hearts, we honor your courage, we remember your sacrifice, and we carry your memory with us today and always.
Today – We Remember

05/24/2026

Our condolences, love, and prayers are with Barbara Lowe's family and friends.

View Barbara Lee Lowe's obituary, send flowers, find service dates, and sign the guestbook.

05/04/2026

The Scoutmaster Minute
By: Dave Lawless

“For those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted” (Matthew 23:12).

When I think about service to others and humility, my mind often returns to my years as a Boy Scout leader, when I had to learn the Boy Scout Oath, the Law, the slogan, and the motto. Each one pointed to the same core principle: humble service. The Oath calls a Scout “to help other people at all times,” the Law reminds him that “a Scout is helpful and kind,” the slogan urges him to “Do a Good Turn Daily,” and the motto challenges him to “Be prepared.” Scouting teaches that true leadership is not about personal glory but about empowering others, choosing service over self, and developing character in the silence where no applause exists. A Scout learns to ask, “What is best for other people?” and then act accordingly. The Boy Scout Oath itself is divided into three parts: duty to God, duty to others, and duty to self, and when we consider duty to God, humility becomes the foundation.

We honor God by recognizing His authority, obeying His commands, and serving others as an expression of our devotion. One of my greatest takeaways from serving others is the importance of doing it humbly. There is no need to advertise what we’ve done, donated, or tithed; God knows, and that is enough. A Christian stays humble by imitating Jesus Christ’s servant-hearted, self-sacrificing attitude, focusing on others rather than oneself, and submitting to God through prayer, confession, and recognizing that every blessing is a gift of grace.

We are encouraged not to act from selfish motives or pride: “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others” (Philippians 2:3–4). Practically speaking, we stay humble by thanking God often, because gratitude suffocates pride. By accepting humiliation when it comes, remembering that Jesus Himself endured deep humiliation, and by refusing to chase status or connect with people merely to elevate ourselves. Humbling ourselves means examining our motives and bringing them before the Lord whenever we notice that our actions are designed to win approval or admiration. Sometimes humility also looks like letting go of our need to control the journey. Sometimes the things you don’t expect are what you really wanted after all, and sometimes the best thing to do is to stop trying to figure out where you’re going and just enjoy where you’re at. In all these ways, humility becomes not just a moment but a lifestyle, one that trusts God, serves others quietly, and finds joy in walking the path Jesus walked.

04/19/2026

Can God Beat the Odds?
By: Dave Lawless

Psalm 112:7 — “He will have no fear of bad news; his heart is steadfast, trusting in the Lord.”

I was inspired to write this after reflecting on moments when I tried to fool myself into believing I could control every aspect of my life, only to realize how unpredictable circumstances can be. Many of us, myself included, have moments where we cling to the illusion of control, only to be reminded by unexpected events that life is full of surprises. I guess I learned this lesson the hard way when my siblings and I were dealing with our sick parents. Thinking we can control not only our circumstances, but theirs as well. It simply doesn't work that way; ultimately, we must surrender and trust in the one God who truly can.

Life has a way of confronting us with moments that shake our confidence. Sometimes it comes through a doctor’s call, a sudden crisis, or a situation that turns without warning. One moment we feel steady, and the next we’re staring at news we never expected. Suddenly the optimism we normally carry isn’t enough. We’re forced to wrestle with uncertainty, the kind that makes you whisper, What if this doesn’t turn out the way I hoped?

We’ve all been there. A financial setback. A family struggle. A prayer that seems unanswered. The odds don’t look good, and our hearts feel the weight of it.
Scripture never asks us to pretend the odds aren’t real. David didn’t deny Goliath’s size. Daniel didn’t ignore the lions. Paul didn’t overlook the chains on his wrists. Faith isn’t pretending everything is fine. Faith is choosing to look beyond what we can see and anchor ourselves in the God who sees more than we do. Psalm 112:7 gives us a picture of a heart that is steadfast, not because the news is good, but because the Lord is faithful. God never promises a life free from bad news. He promises His presence in the middle of it. He promises strength when ours runs out. He promises peace that doesn’t depend on outcomes.

One of the quiet strengths of walking through uncertainty is compassion. When we care deeply, we feel deeply — and that tenderness can make us feel vulnerable. But compassion is not weakness. Jesus Himself wept at Lazarus’s tomb. He entered human pain with open eyes and an open heart. Your compassion, your tears, your concern, your prayers are not signs of fragility. They are signs that the love of Christ is alive in you. And when the odds seem stacked against us, we remember this: God is not bound by statistics. He is not intimidated by percentages. He is not limited by what we cannot control. He works in the unseen. He moves in the impossible. He holds tomorrow when we can’t.

So, when the odds aren’t in your favor, lift your eyes. The God who holds the universe also holds you.

04/10/2026

“The God Who Meets Us in the Cave”
By: Dave Lawless

Bob sat in the back corner of a bustling coffee shop, earbuds in, laptop open, surrounded by people yet feeling completely unseen. Notifications buzzed, conversations hummed, and life moved around him, but none of it touched the ache inside. It was the same kind of quiet isolation David the Shepard felt in the cave: surrounded by noise, pressure, and expectations, yet painfully aware that no one truly understood the weight he carried. Bob wasn’t hiding from soldiers, but from deadlines, disappointments, and the fear that maybe no one really knew him. And like the shepherd-king centuries before him, he whispered a prayer into the silence, hoping God still heard lonely hearts in crowded rooms.

Loneliness is one of the most misunderstood human experiences. It doesn’t always look like isolation, and it certainly doesn’t require an empty room. A person can sit alone in peaceful stillness and feel deeply connected, while another can stand shoulder‑to‑shoulder with a crowd and feel invisible. That’s because loneliness is not about how many people are around us, it’s about whether our hearts feel seen, valued, and understood. It is an emotion born from a sense of separation, a quiet ache that whispers, “I don’t know where I belong right now.” David knew that ache well. Though anointed by God and surrounded by followers, he often felt forgotten, misunderstood, and painfully alone. His cave wasn’t just a hiding place; it was a symbol of the emotional distance he felt from others.

Loneliness is not cured by adding more people to the room but by discovering that Someone already sits with us in the shadows. That is the truth David clung to when human support faltered. It’s the same truth captured in the old hymn that has steadied believers for generations: “Friends may fail me, foes assail me, He is with me to the end.” Those words name what our hearts struggle to articulate, that Christ’s companionship does not rise and fall with circumstances. His presence is not fragile or conditional. It is the steady refuge that turns caves into sanctuaries.

And this is the hope that meets us in our own hidden places. Even when love feels distant or our hearts feel misplaced, God’s love has not slipped away. It surrounds us even when we cannot sense it, holds us when we feel unworthy, and whispers assurance into the quiet corners of our loneliness. In Christ, the cave is never the end of the story. His presence fills the emptiness, softens the echoes, and reminds us that even in the most crowded room, or the deepest cave, we are never unseen.

03/05/2026

“The Weight of Unanswered Prayers”
By Dave Lawless

Each morning, a man wakes to the same stubborn ache that refuses to loosen its hold, a reminder of the healing that still hasn’t come. He swings his legs over the edge of the bed, feeling the familiar frustration rise, the weariness of fighting the same battle day after day, the longing for relief that seems just out of reach. Yet even in that tension, he steadies himself, breathes deeply, and reaches for the quiet courage that has carried him this far. He whispers prayers for healing, not just for his body, but for strength, patience, and hope—and then he puts on a smile. It isn’t a denial of the pain; it’s a declaration that he will not be defined by it. And in that small, faithful act, he chooses once again to meet the day with resilience and trust.

There are moments in the Christian life when you pray with all your heart for healing, for relief, for a breakthrough, and the answer seems to move in the opposite direction. You ask God to fix what hurts, but instead the road grows longer, the burden heavier, and the outcome more confusing. Paul understood this tension deeply. When he writes, “We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair,” he gives voice to the very real experience of praying faithfully and still watching life unfold in ways you never planned. Feeling perplexed does not mean you lack faith; it means you are human. And yet, Paul insists, we never give up. Not because we are strong, but because God is.

Paul describes us as fragile clay jars—ordinary, breakable, easily chipped. God could have chosen gold or marble to carry His message, but instead He chose vessels like us. Why? So that the strength people see is clearly not our own. The cracks in our lives become the very places where His light shines through. When you don’t know what to do next, when your prayers seem unanswered, when you feel pressed from every side, God is not asking you to be unbreakable. He is asking you to trust that His power is holding you together. You may feel confused, but you are not abandoned. You may feel struck down, but you are not destroyed. The miracle is not always that God removes the hardship—it’s that He sustains you through it. And in that quiet endurance, His glory is revealed.

01/17/2026

"Are We There Yet?"
by Dave Lawless

I am frequently asked about my favorite scripture, and without hesitation, I refer to 2 Corinthians 4:16-18. Allow me to provide some context.

Recently, our six-month-old grandson developed a severe cold. While it is common for young children to fall ill, Oakley was born with Cystic Fibrosis, making even minor illnesses potentially complicated. As a precaution, he was hospitalized and remained there for two nights. This situation prompted reflection on this verse and the challenges Oakley will face throughout his life, including ongoing medical treatments and medications. It was also decided that I would drive down to my daughters to bring my granddaughter, Lily, to our home for a few days. Like most children her age, halfway through our drive she started asking “Are we there yet?”
We weren’t even close.

Lily wasn’t being impatient on purpose — she simply couldn’t see what I could see. She didn’t know the route, or the distance. All she knew was the cramped back seat, the boredom, and the feeling that the journey was taking forever. But I had a different perspective. I knew the destination was worth it. I knew the discomfort was temporary. I knew the joy waiting at the end would outweigh the frustration along the way.

Paul invites us into that same shift in perspective.
In 2 Corinthians 4:16–18, he reminds us that even though our bodies and circumstances may feel worn down, God is renewing us on the inside. What we’re facing right now — the stress, the uncertainty, the grief, the pressure — feels heavy. But compared to the glory God is preparing for us, Paul calls these troubles “light and momentary.” Not because they feel light, but because they are temporary, and they are producing something eternal in us.
Paul is teaching us to look beyond the visible.
To see more than the cramped back seat of today or the ongoing medical treatments of Cystic Fibrosis. To trust that God sees the whole journey — the route, the purpose, and the destination.

When we fix our eyes only on what we can see, we grow discouraged. But when we fix our eyes on what is unseen — God’s presence, God’s promises, God’s future — something powerful happens:
• Our spirits are renewed even when our bodies feel tired.
• Our hope grows even when circumstances don’t change.
• Our faith strengthens even when the road feels long.
So, if you feel like asking God, “Are we there yet?” — you’re not alone. But take heart. The journey is shaping you. The destination is worth it. And the God who sees the whole road is walking every mile with you.

01/10/2026

“A Hollow Faith”
By Dave Lawless

Anyone who knows me understands just how deeply the television show M*A*S*H has shaped my life. Even after 50 years of watching it, it never loses its impact. I’ve even written several devotionals inspired by different episodes. But a couple of weeks ago, while rewatching an episode I’ve seen countless times, a single line from Father Mulcahy caught my attention—one I had somehow missed all these years.

“A Holy Mess” is an episode centered around a distraught soldier who goes AWOL in a desperate attempt to get home. He slips into Father Mulcahy’s Sunday service in the mess tent, which doubles as a chapel on Sundays. When the military police finally catch up to him, the soldier claims the Right to Sanctuary—something Father Mulcahy chooses to honor.
What follows is a dispute over whether a mess tent can truly be considered a church for the purpose of granting sanctuary. When the top brass ultimately rule that it cannot, the mess tent—and therefore the sanctuary—loses its standing. Feeling cornered, the soldier pulls a weapon on the very men beside him.
In that tense moment, Father Mulcahy offers a simple but profound truth: “...A faith of convenience is a hollow faith.”

It’s easy to cling to faith when it shields us, comforts us, or gets us out of trouble. But true faith isn’t a hiding place we run to only when life corners us. It’s a daily posture of trust, obedience, and surrender—especially when it costs us something. Scripture reminds us of this in James 1:22: “Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says.” Faith that only shows up when it’s convenient isn’t faith at all; it’s a safety net we pull out when life feels unsteady. But faith that endures through pressure, uncertainty, and sacrifice—that’s the kind that transforms us.
Today, let Father Mulcahy’s simple truth challenge you. Is your faith something you visit when life gets hard, or is it the foundation you stand on every day? God invites us into a faith that is steady, rooted, and real—not hollow, but whole.

Where in your life are you tempted to lean on faith only when it’s convenient? What would it look like to trust God consistently, even when it stretches you?

01/04/2026

https://www.dropbox.com/scl/fi/54nqztiztnifnmhu3jy5k/Christmas-Eve-Service-2025.mov?rlkey=djyrbobiyhs2ub15om0gq9n62&st=ezy374rt&dl=0

Shared with Dropbox

11/22/2025

Feeling Blessed. Thanksgiving dinner with the church family. Great food and fellowship.

04/19/2025

Come Home For Easter!
Looking for a church family to celebrate Easter with? Join us Easter Sunday at Prairie Creek Fellowship. Service starts at 9:00am and a Hispanic service at 10:30 am.
1016 N. Wasson St.