Dirt

Our mission is unapologetically clear: to make disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world. It’s a bold statement, and at first glance, it might sound like everything we do is confined to Sunday worship, small groups, and the walls of our sanctuary. But transformation—real transformation—often begins in the most unexpected places. Sometimes, it starts with a little dirt.

If you’ve taken the time to drive around the back of our church property lately, you’ve probably noticed something new taking shape. For years, that field behind the parking lot was little more than a forgotten space—unused, dusty, and full of prickly sand spurs. Occasionally, we’d host an Easter egg hunt or a game of kickball out there, but the fun was always cut short by cries of discomfort as the burrs embedded themselves in tiny feet. In many ways, it was a field full of missed potential.

That is, until last fall—during a stewardship series preached by Pastor David—something stirred.

Sitting in one of those services was a man who saw not just an empty lot, but an opportunity. What if that rough patch of land could become something more? What if it could serve our community, our church, and our mission all at the same time? And just like that, an idea was born: a youth soccer program right here on our property.

The benefits were immediately clear. First, there would be a complete transformation of the land itself. No more sand spurs. In their place—soft green grass, level fields, and open space designed for kids to play safely. Second, this project would bring a new stream of revenue to the church, turning an underutilized resource into a sustainable investment in our future. But those two things, as great as they are, weren’t even the most important outcomes.

Because then came the third benefit—the one we couldn’t have planned for.

During the soccer program’s very first season, a member of our church found herself chatting with parents on the sidelines. One of the moms shared how her community theater group had just lost their performance venue and was scrambling to find a new space for their next production. Without hesitation, our church member mentioned our sanctuary, which is equipped with lighting, sound, and plenty of seating—everything a small theater group would need.

A quick meeting later, and it was clear that this wasn’t just a rental opportunity—it was a partnership in the making. Plans quickly emerged to collaborate with our children's choir and Christmas musical. Ideas began flowing, and relationships started forming. Before any curtain had even risen, one of the families from the theater group started attending worship with us. Just by opening our doors—before a single performance or rehearsal—seeds were planted.

That’s the beauty of ministry. We often talk about building bridges to the community, about finding new ways to invite people onto our campus, hoping they might one day walk into a worship service. We pray that by simply showing hospitality, hearts might open. But even in our best strategic planning, we never imagined how quickly God would begin to move.

What started as a sermon about stewardship turned into a soccer field. That field turned into a mission hub. And now, that mission is expanding into the arts, community outreach, and new families becoming part of our story.

Because ministry doesn’t always begin with a pulpit. Sometimes, it starts with a patch of dirt.