LAMBS INN

04/05/2026

The Resurrection of Jesus Christ: A Retelling from the Gospel of Matthew

Dawn broke over Jerusalem on the first day of the week, the Sabbath now past. Two devoted women—Mary Magdalene and the other Mary—made their way to the tomb where Jesus of Nazareth had been laid after His brutal crucifixion. Their hearts were heavy with grief, yet drawn by love and duty to anoint His body. What they encountered would shatter the darkness of death and ignite the hope of the ages.

Suddenly, the earth trembled violently. An angel of the Lord descended from heaven, rolled back the massive stone sealing the tomb, and sat upon it. His appearance blazed like lightning, his clothing white as snow. The Roman guards, posted to secure the tomb against any trickery, shook with terror and collapsed like dead men.

The angel spoke gently yet with divine authority to the women: “Do not be afraid, for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified. He is not here, for he has risen, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples that he has risen from the dead, and behold, he is going before you to Galilee; there you will see him. See, I have told you.”

Fear and overwhelming joy surged through the women as they fled the tomb to obey. Their feet flew along the path, carrying news that would change history. Then, in a moment that pierced their souls, Jesus Himself met them on the road. “Greetings!” He said. They fell at His feet, grasping them in worship—touching the living, breathing reality of the One they had mourned. Jesus reassured them: “Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee, and there they will see me.”

Meanwhile, the guards recovered and reported everything to the chief priests. Rather than accept the truth, the religious leaders bribed the soldiers with a large sum: “Tell people, ‘His disciples came by night and stole him away while we were asleep.’ And if this comes to the governor’s ears, we will satisfy him and keep you out of trouble.” The soldiers took the money and spread this lie among the Jews—a fabricated story that persisted.

The eleven disciples journeyed to the mountain in Galilee as instructed. There, they saw the risen Jesus. They worshiped Him—some with hearts overflowing in faith, others still wrestling doubt in the face of such glory. Jesus drew near and declared with cosmic authority: “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”

This is the heart-stirring account straight from Matthew 28—the empty tomb, the angelic announcement, the personal encounters with the risen Lord, and the commissioning that launched the Church. It proclaims victory over sin and death, offering every heart the promise of new life in Christ.

04/05/2026

https://www.facebook.com/share/18V1gvupWj/

At the moment it felt like everything was lost…
He chose trust.

Not control.
Not fear.
Trust.

“Father, into Your hands I commit my spirit.”

And because He did, we never have to face our darkest moments alone. 🤍








🙏

12/17/2025

The Secret Place: Psalms 91:1

He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.

There's a place of absolute safety in this chaotic world. Not a physical location you can GPS. Not a building with walls and locks. It's a place of intimacy with God that most people never find because they're too busy, too distracted, or too convinced they can handle life on their own.

The psalmist calls it the secret place of the Most High.

Notice the word dwell. This isn't about a quick visit or a Sunday morning check-in. To dwell means to live there, to make it your home, to settle in and stay. It's about a lifestyle of abiding in God's presence, not just crisis prayers when everything falls apart.

And here's what happens when you dwell there: you abide under the shadow of the Almighty.

In the scorching heat of the ancient Middle East, a shadow wasn't just nice to have. It was survival. It meant protection, rest, and relief. To be under God's shadow means you're so close to Him that His presence covers you. You're not just near Him. You're positioned right where His protection naturally falls.

But here's what we often miss: this promise comes with a condition. The blessing of abiding under His shadow is for those who dwell in the secret place. Not for those who occasionally drop by. Not for those who only remember God exists when they need something. This is for the ones who make their home in His presence.

In our world of constant noise, endless scrolling, and never-ending hustle, the secret place requires something radical: intentionality. You have to turn off the distractions. You have to prioritize time with God over everything else screaming for your attention. You have to choose intimacy over activity.

Think about your life right now. Are you dwelling in the secret place, or are you just visiting when it's convenient? Are you abiding under the shadow of the Almighty, or are you trying to navigate life's storms in your own strength?

The invitation is clear. God isn't hiding from you. The secret place isn't locked. But you have to choose to enter it. You have to choose to stay there. You have to choose intimacy over independence.

When you do, something powerful happens. The chaos doesn't necessarily disappear, but you're no longer facing it alone. The storms still come, but you're covered. The battles still rage, but you're protected.

Because you're not just anywhere. You're in the secret place of the Most High, abiding under the shadow of the Almighty.

That's not just a nice Bible verse. That's a place of power. That's a fortress of peace. That's where you need to be.

The question is: will you dwell there?

12/17/2025

The Mind of Christ: Philippians 2:5-8

Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus: Who, being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God: But made himself of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men: And being found in fashion as a man, he humbled himself, and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross.

Think about the most powerful person you know. Now imagine them choosing to give up everything, not because they had to, but because they loved you that much.

That's what Jesus did, but on an infinite scale.

Paul is showing us the greatest downward journey in history. Jesus wasn't pretending to be God or grasping for equality with the Father. He already was God. He possessed all the glory, power, and majesty of heaven. Yet He willingly laid it aside to become one of us.

This wasn't a small step down. The King of the universe became a servant. The Creator entered His creation as a helpless baby. The Almighty allowed Himself to experience hunger, exhaustion, and pain. And the journey didn't stop at the manger. It led all the way to a Roman cross, the most shameful death imaginable.

Why does this matter for us today?

Because Paul starts this passage with five words that change everything: Let this mind be in you.

The same attitude that moved Jesus to humble Himself is supposed to be our attitude. In a world obsessed with self-promotion, climbing ladders, and protecting our rights, Jesus shows us a radically different way. He descended so that we could ascend. He became poor so that we could become rich in Him. He died so that we could live.

This is the heart of the gospel. But it's also the pattern for Christian living. When we're tempted to demand our own way, fight for our reputation, or refuse to serve others, we need to remember who Jesus is and what He did. If the Son of God could humble Himself like this, who are we to think we're above it?

Real Christianity isn't about finding your best life now or claiming your rights. It's about following a Savior who went down so we could come up, who became nothing so we could become everything in Him.

The question is simple but searching: Do we have the mind of Christ? Are we willing to lay down our pride, our comfort, and our demands to serve others the way He served us?

This is what it means to follow Jesus. Not just to admire Him from a distance, but to walk the path He walked, to think the way He thought, and to love the way He loved.

That kind of humility will cost you everything. But here's the beautiful truth: Jesus already proved it's worth it.

12/07/2025

Sunday Peace - You Don't Need a Dramatic Story
It's Sunday morning.
Some of you are at church listening to testimonies of dramatic conversions and miraculous deliverances. Stories of people who hit rock bottom and God rescued them spectacularly.
And maybe you're thinking: My story isn't dramatic enough. My faith isn't exciting enough. God isn't working as obviously in my life.
Here's what I want you to hear today:

YOU DON'T NEED A DRAMATIC STORY TO HAVE A SIGNIFICANT FAITH.
Not everyone gets a Damascus Road experience like Paul.
Not everyone has a burning bush moment like Moses.
Not everyone gets angels and visions and clear divine directions.
Most of us get: Show up tomorrow. Do the next right thing. Trust Me in the boring parts.
And that's enough.

RUTH'S STORY WASN'T DRAMATIC:
She went to a field every day and picked up leftover grain.
That's it. That's the story.
No angels. No miracles. No dramatic interventions.
Just daily faithfulness in an unglamorous task.
And yet - God used that boring obedience to put her in the lineage of Jesus Christ. Her faithfulness in the small thing positioned her for the big thing she never saw coming.

YOUR BORING OBEDIENCE MATTERS:
Going to therapy every week - matters.
Taking your meds even when you feel fine - matters.
Showing up to work you don't love - matters.
Being kind when no one's watching - matters.
One more day of sobriety - matters.
Choosing not to send that angry text - matters.
Getting out of bed when depression says stay down - matters.
Praying when it feels pointless - matters.
God sees every small obedience. None of it is wasted.

MATTHEW 25:21:
"Well done, thou good and faithful servant: thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things."
The reward isn't for being dramatic. It's for being faithful.
Faithful in the few things. Faithful in the small things. Faithful in the boring, unglamorous, nobody-sees-it things.

SO TODAY:
Give yourself permission to have a boring testimony.
Give yourself permission to walk a quiet faith.
Give yourself permission to trust that your small obediences are building something bigger than you can see.
You don't need a dramatic story. You just need to keep showing up.

A PRAYER FOR THE UN-DRAMATIC:
God, my story isn't exciting. I don't have dramatic testimonies or miraculous deliverances to share. Most days, my faith looks like just showing up and doing the next thing.
But help me believe that's enough. That You value faithfulness over flashiness. That my boring obedience matters to You.
Give me strength for one more day of ordinary faithfulness. And help me trust that You're building something beautiful from my small obediences.
Amen.

TODAY'S WORSHIP:
Listen to "Do It Again" by Elevation Worship or "Way Maker" by Sinach
Both songs celebrate God's faithfulness in the ordinary, not just the dramatic.
Or just sit in silence and thank God for seeing your small obediences.

The light is still on for the undramatic, the ordinary, the quietly faithful.

There is hope in Jesus.
💬 What's your "boring obedience" that nobody sees but matters anyway?

12/05/2025

Friday Reflection: The Power of Small Obediences 🌱
This week Naomi took a minimum-wage job organizing bingo games at a senior center. Not exactly the dramatic redemption arc we expect from God, right?
We want:

Sudden breakthroughs
Overnight success
Dramatic transformations
Clear signs we're on the right path

But God often works through small obediences.
The boring stuff. The showing-up-every-day stuff. The doing-the-next-right-thing-even-when-you-can't-see-where-it's-leading stuff.

REFLECTION QUESTIONS FOR THE WEEKEND:
1. What "small obedience" have you been dismissing as insignificant?
Maybe it's:

Going to therapy every week (not dramatic, but essential)
Taking your medication (boring, but life-saving)
Showing up to work when you don't want to
Texting a friend when you're struggling
Getting out of bed on hard days
One more day of sobriety
Saying no to one more toxic relationship

Small obediences matter.

2. Where are you waiting for the "big thing" when God is asking for faithfulness in the small thing?
We want:

The dream job (but won't show up faithfully to the current job)
The healed relationship (but won't do the hard work of therapy)
The breakthrough (but won't take small steps of obedience)

What if the big thing comes THROUGH the small thing?

3. Who are the "invisible people" in your life that you could see this week?

The elderly neighbor
The grocery store cashier
The person everyone else overlooks
The family member everyone's given up on

Seeing people is a small obedience that creates big impact.

THIS WEEKEND:
Do one small obedience you've been putting off.
Not the huge life-changing thing. Just the next right thing.
And trust that God can use your boring, unglamorous faithfulness to build something beautiful.

The light is still on, illuminating the next small step.

There is hope in Jesus.
💬 What small obedience is God asking of you today?

12/03/2025

The Light Is Still On - Mystery Character Post #4
"Small Obediences"
Chicago, Illinois - Six Weeks After Arrival
Naomi Chen stood in the kitchen of her son's apartment, staring at the job listing on her phone. "Senior Center Activities Coordinator - Part-Time - Experience with Seniors Required."
It wasn't much. Fifteen hours a week. Minimum wage. Organizing bingo games and book clubs for elderly residents at a senior living facility.
But it was something. Income. Purpose. A reason to leave the apartment.
She'd applied to forty-three jobs in the past month. This was the first interview offer.

THE INTERVIEW:
Sunrise Senior Living was a modest facility in Rogers Park. Clean but dated. The smell of cafeteria food and industrial cleaning products.
The director, Margaret, was a no-nonsense woman in her fifties who got straight to the point.
"We need someone who understands seniors. Who can relate to them. Who won't treat them like children." She looked at Naomi directly. "You're sixty-two. You recently lost your spouse. You've experienced significant life upheaval. That gives you something textbooks can't teach: empathy."
Naomi hadn't expected that. She'd thought her age would be a liability. Turns out it was an asset.
"The residents here," Margaret continued, "they're forgotten by most of the world. Families visit less and less. They feel invisible. We need someone who sees them. Who reminds them they still matter."
Invisible people seeing invisible people. Naomi understood that completely.
"When can you start?" Margaret asked.
"Whenever you need me."
"Monday. 9 AM. Fifteen hours a week to start. If it goes well, we might expand to twenty-five."

THE FIRST WEEK:
Naomi's job was simple: coordinate activities, facilitate social interaction, help residents stay engaged.
The residents were a mix:
Dorothy, 87 - former librarian, sharp as ever, frustrated that her body couldn't keep up with her mind.
Frank, 79 - widower of five years, spent most days alone in his room avoiding people.
Mei, 82 - Chinese immigrant who spoke limited English, isolated by language barriers.
Robert, 91 - dementia patient who asked for his wife (dead 20 years) every day.
Helen, 76 - wealthy former socialite, bitter about "ending up here" after her children placed her.
These were Naomi's people now.

On her third day, Naomi organized a book club discussion. Five people showed up.
Dorothy dominated the conversation. Helen complained the book was beneath her intelligence. Mei smiled and nodded but clearly didn't follow. Frank sat in the back looking miserable. Robert kept asking when his wife was coming.
It was a disaster.
Afterward, Dorothy cornered Naomi. "Don't give up, dear. We're a difficult bunch. But we need this. We need you."
"I'm not sure I'm any good at this," Naomi admitted.
"Neither are we. But we're here. That's what matters - showing up even when we're not sure it'll work."

SMALL OBEDIENCES:
The job wasn't glamorous. Most days felt like failure. Activities flopped. Residents complained. Progress was minimal.
But Naomi kept showing up.
She learned Mei spoke Mandarin. Naomi didn't speak Mandarin, but she found a translation app and started having basic conversations. Mei cried the first time someone made an effort to communicate in her language.
She convinced Frank to help her organize the library. He grumbled but showed up every Tuesday. After three weeks, he admitted: "This is the only thing I look forward to."
She sat with Robert when he asked for his wife. Instead of correcting him ("She's gone, Robert"), she asked: "Tell me about her. What was she like?" He'd light up, remembering. The memory mattered more than the reality.
She brought Dorothy magazines from the library. Helen grudgingly admitted the coffee Naomi made was "acceptable."
Small things. Tiny acts of seeing people. Nothing that would make headlines.
But it mattered.

THE CONVERSATION WITH GRACE:
One evening after work, Naomi met Grace for coffee.
"How's the job?" Grace asked.
"Honestly? Some days I wonder if I'm making any difference at all. I'm organizing bingo games. That's not exactly changing the world."
Grace smiled knowingly. "You remember the Ruth story Pastor David preached about?"
"Of course."
"Ruth's great contribution to history - the reason she's in the Bible - wasn't some grand dramatic act. It was showing up to a field every day and gathering leftover grain. Boring, backbreaking, unglamorous work."
"So?"
"So God used her faithfulness in the small things to position her for the big things. She didn't know she'd end up in the lineage of Jesus. She just knew she had to feed herself and Naomi. So she did the next right thing."
Grace leaned forward. "That's what you're doing. Showing up. Seeing invisible people. Doing small acts of kindness that seem insignificant. But Naomi, those small obediences add up."
"To what?"
"We'll find out. But I've learned that God rarely wastes our small obediences. He's always weaving something bigger than we can see."

THE UNEXPECTED CONVERSATION:
Friday afternoon, Margaret called Naomi into her office.
"I've been watching you," she said. "The way you interact with residents. The effort you make. The patience you have."
Naomi braced for criticism.
"We're opening a second location next year. North side. We need a full-time Activities Director. Twenty-five hours a week, better pay, benefits. I want you to consider it."
Naomi was stunned. "I've only been here six weeks."
"And in six weeks you've done what most people can't do in six months. You see them. Really see them. That's not a skill you can train. It's a gift."
"I... I need to think about it."
"Take your time. But Naomi? You're good at this. Better than you think."

That night, Naomi sat with James and Sophia.
"They offered me a promotion," she said, still processing.
"That's amazing, Mom!" James hugged her.
"It's more hours. Which means more income. Which means..." Naomi took a breath. "Which means I could maybe start looking for my own place eventually. Not immediately, but someday."
Sophia's eyes filled with tears. "We don't want you to leave."
"I know. But James, you said you and Sophia want to start a family. You need space for that. And I need... I need to know I can stand on my own again."
James nodded slowly. "We'll figure it out together. No rush. But Mom - I'm so proud of you. You came here with nothing and you're rebuilding."
"Small obediences," Naomi said, thinking of Grace's words. "Just doing the next right thing."

THE PHONE CALL:
Sunday evening, Naomi's phone rang. A Portland number she didn't recognize.
"Hello?"
"Naomi Chen? This is Pastor Williams from Community Church in Portland. I'm sorry to bother you, but I got your number from your old neighbor. I heard you relocated to Chicago?"
"Yes, about two months ago."
"Here's why I'm calling. We have a widow in our congregation, Patricia Harris. Her husband died last year. She's struggling - depression, isolation, financial hardship. She's where you were three years ago."
Naomi's heart clenched.
"Patricia won't talk to the pastoral staff. Won't accept help from the church. But I thought... maybe if you called her? Someone who's walked that road? She might listen to you."
"I'm in Chicago now. I can't meet with her in person."
"A phone call would be enough. Would you be willing?"
Naomi thought about Dorothy, Frank, Mei, Robert, Helen. Invisible people who just needed someone to see them.
"Give me her number," Naomi said. "I'll call her this week."

Small obediences.
Showing up to a job she wasn't sure she was qualified for.
Seeing people everyone else overlooked.
Reaching out to a widow she'd never met who needed someone to understand.
None of it felt significant. But Grace's words echoed: God rarely wastes our small obediences.
Maybe that's how redemption worked. Not in grand dramatic moments, but in quiet faithfulness. In doing the next right thing, even when you couldn't see where it was leading.
Naomi Chen had come to Chicago with nothing. Now she had a job, a purpose, and a growing sense that her story wasn't over.
It was just beginning.

The light is still on, and sometimes it guides us one small step at a time.

Who is Naomi Chen? Can you guess the biblical story?
DM your guesses - don't spoil in comments!

There is hope in Jesus.
What "small obedience" is God asking of you today? What's the next right thing you can do, even when you can't see the big picture?