Have you ever been on a trip without a destination? Have you had to do something you had never tried before? Have you ever gone on vacation without a set itinerary before you left?

When I moved to Cincinnati almost two years ago, I had very little semblance of a plan. My new husband was finishing a degree at the University of Cincinnati and I chose to move down here to support him and for us to start our life together. I didn’t have a job lined up or a community to jump into. All I knew was that I was leaving the places I loved, my friends from all different stages of life, my family, a job I loved, and a church that had become so important to me. What a hard pill to swallow. During this time of immense grief, the Lord spoke to me so clearly through scripture. The same passage kept popping up in my life over and over again from various people and sources: Hebrews 11.

“By faith Abraham, when called to go to a place he would later receive as his inheritance, obeyed and went, even though he did not know where he was going.” – Hebrews 11:8

Abraham was called by God, which means he was given an invitation by the Lord to do something spiritually significant.

I knew that God had called me to move to Cincinnati. I didn’t know why or how it would work out, but I knew I had to go. As much as I have loved being here in Cincinnati and at Lord of Life, I know that God is now calling me and my husband to move back to Northwest Ohio, even though we don’t know exactly where that will be or what we will be doing when we get there.

My encouragement for you is to go where God calls you, even when you don’t know the destination. Do what God is nudging you to do, even when you aren’t sure how the situation will turn out.

Hebrews 11:1 says, “Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.” By faith and only through faith in God, we are able to do, survive, and endure things that seem impossible.

Maybe you’ve already surrendered your plans to God, but you still don’t know how the situation is going to turn out. A dear friend once told me that God showing us only the next step is one of his greatest mercies. Psalm 119:105 tells us, “Your word is a lamp for my feet, a light on my path.” Notice how it’s not an overhead light or a bright headlight, but a lamp. A lamp won’t light the entire path, but it will illuminate the next little section for you to walk through. If God showed me the whole big picture, I know I wouldn’t follow through. He is so gracious to show me a little bit at a time and lead me gently into what’s next.

Even though he did not know where he was going, Abraham obeyed and went. Is there somewhere God is calling you to go or something He is calling you to do? Are you excited? Hesitant? How can you use this calling to strengthen your faith?

Going without knowing,
Maddie Pease, Office Manager

Expect the unexpected.

On April 9, 25 of us from Lord of Life will join 10 others from Epiphany Lutheran Church in Dayton to embark on a Footsteps of St. Paul Pilgrimage through Greece and Turkey, visiting many of the biblical sites where Paul and others preached, taught, and lived during his missionary journeys. Part of our trip was going to take us via ship across the Aegean Sea to Ephesus, Mykonos, Patmos, Santorini, and other island excursions. Not anymore.

Tony Abuaita of Good Shepherd Travel recently received news that our ship, along with others from the cruise line, are stuck in the Arabian Peninsula after the winter cruising season in that region. From the cruise line: “In light of the ongoing situation in the Middle East, which has resulted in a delay to safely reposition our ships back to the Mediterranean, we would like to inform you that, following careful consideration, we will be cancelling all departures scheduled for April 2026.”

Our travelers have been talking about expecting the unexpected on our pilgrimage and the importance of flexibility, especially as we travel in a large group, but we had hoped there wouldn’t be such a major shift in our schedule so soon. Good Shepherd Travel is exploring other options for our canceled days at sea.

This isn’t the first time any of us have had to adapt to the unexpected. Each day, all of us begin with certain hopes and expectations that morph and shift in response to whatever the day brings. A flat tire, a detour, a cancelled appointment, a flooded basement, and other inconveniences disrupt many of our lives. A little pivot here and there might be aggravating, but they don’t usually dismantle our lives.

Other unexpected moments do. A fatal car crash, house fire, declaring bankruptcy, or being fired unexpectedly flip our lives upside down. We wonder how we’ll ever get past a terrible season.

As we move through this Holy Week, I wonder how the disciples and other followers of Jesus managed the unexpected events of those strange days. The palm procession, the foot washing and giving of a new commandment to “love one another,” the betrayal and arrest in Gethsemane, the accusations and beatings, the violence of the parade to Golgotha followed by the unthinkable crucifixion. None of them could’ve expected that the week would take such a dark and tragic turn.

They also could never have expected what would happen on Easter morning. Resurrection. New life. Hope and promise beyond the grave. Jesus spoke with them and once again promised to be with them forever.

As we hear these stories again this Holy Week, they remind us that no matter what life throws at us and no matter how the evil swirls around us and masks any sign of relief, the power and light of God continues to vanquish the darkness and radiates resurrection hope into all the dead and dying places of the world.

This is a message for you. This is a message for all. In a world full of expectations and unexpected moments, let us sing, pray, speak, and live like we expect Jesus to show up.

Living in Hope,
Pastor Lowell Michelson

The Women’s Retreat theme this year was Embodied & Beloved (Created Good. Made Holy. Sent in Love.) As women, there are days that we feel deep in our bones like the Helen Reddy song proclaims, “I am woman, hear me roar. I am strong. I am invincible. I am woman.” However, there are other days when the world’s view that we are “less than,” that we are “too much,” that we aren't aging to current beauty standards, our body is wrong, or that our size determines our worth seeps into our daily thoughts and undermines the beauty that God created.

What would change if we believed our bodies were holy? What would it change for you? We reflected on this throughout the weekend, and I saw the power of women to lift each other up individually and as a community. That our beauty comes from our laughter, our wide and varied talents, our genetic makeup, our imperfections, and life experiences. Our bodies are created good and holy for “We are fearfully and wonderfully made.” (Psalm 139)

In the Bible, we see diverse women used for divine purposes. Deborah brought visionary leadership and unity. Ruth brought tenacious loyalty. Priscilla brought profound scriptural understanding and teaching. When we see each other through God’s eyes, we see the beauty in our uniqueness.

Often, women are overlooked, but God uses the overlooked to do the impossible. Throughout Scripture, from Miriam leading worship to the women at the tomb being the first to announce the resurrection, God has trusted women with profound responsibilities.

To begin our weekend, we chose a colored salt to represent us individually. At the end of the retreat, we combined the salt to form a mosaic of colors. We poured them together into one vase, we honored both what makes us unique and what binds us as one through God’s unconditional love. The blended salt reminded us that our individual talents and spirits, when shared, create something far more vibrant and whole than any one of us. We may have left the retreat alone, but we carried the beauty of shared community in our hearts and back into the world.

We are beloved by God. Created good. Made Holy. Sent in Love.

Thank you, Pastor Tracy Paschke-Johannes, for leading us this weekend, and thank you to the talented organizers and helpers, welcoming spirits, and thoughtful participants. If you missed the retreat this year, we hope you can join us next year. All are welcome!

Peace be with you,
Angie Seiller, Director of Faith Formation

In the back of many of our closets, there is a sweater that has seen better days. Perhaps it was a gift from a loved one, a favorite layer worn during a difficult season, or simply a garment that has grown thin at the elbows from years of faithful service. Individually, these pieces of wool and acrylic are artifacts of our personal histories—bits of "used up" material that the world might otherwise discard.

This Easter, however, we are looking at these old threads through the lens of the Empty Tomb.

For the past several weeks, our community has been engaged in a unique "harvest." We asked you to bring in those old sweaters, not to be thrown away, but to be carefully deconstructed. As we have unraveled these garments, we have been doing more than just reclaiming yarn; we have been considering the stories, the prayers, and the varied "places in life" that each contributor represents.

The Resurrection is not just a historical event we remember; it is a promise of transformation that we inhabit. It is the divine "Yes" to the idea that nothing is ever truly lost to God. By harvesting the yarn from our various lives—some of us coming from seasons of joy, others from seasons of grief or exhaustion—we are creating a visual testimony of what it means to be the Body of Christ.

As these harvested strands are woven, coiled, and layered into the four large-scale art pieces that will soon hang in our sanctuary, a beautiful truth begins to emerge. A single strand of yarn, pulled from a lone sweater, is fragile. But when it is combined with the textures and colors of a hundred other lives, it becomes part of a sturdy, vibrant tapestry.

This project mirrors our life together in Christ: We are a people of Grace abounding. Just as Christ was raised to a new and glorified body, we are taking the materials of our old selves and allowing them to be refashioned into a New Creation. When you look at the panels on our walls this Easter, I hope you don't just see art. I hope you see yourself. I hope you see the sleeve of the sweater you donated now acting as a ray of light or the collar of a friend’s cardigan forming the foundation of a new horizon.

We have brought something of ourselves to contribute to the whole promise of Resurrection. We have taken the discarded and found it to be the very material God uses to make all things new. In every knot, every braid, and every splash of color, let us recognize that we are being woven together into a story much larger than our own—a story that begins at an empty grave and stretches out into an eternal, colorful, and recycled hope.

Yours in the binding,
John Johns

We’re always trying to make space. We move furniture around in our home to reconfigure a room and make a little more space. At the end of a trip, we wonder how we ever fit everything in the suitcase in the first place, as we try to cram it all back in the bag. A few years ago, Lord of Life built an addition to make more space for worship, learning, hospitality, togetherness, and storage. We needed more space.

It happens in virtual ways, too. We try to carve out space in our calendars for time with friends and family. We buy an external hard drive or memory in the cloud so that we can free up space in our computer. We try to make more space in our hearts for patience, compassion, and kindness.

One of my favorite guitarists, Bill Frisell, is a master at creating sonic space. Jazz critic Jack Kenny, writing about his style, says, “Frisell's [sound] is grounded in openness. His playing blends jazz, Americana, folk, and experimental approaches into something spacious, warm, and unmistakably personal.” Inside his latest record, “In My Dreams,” Frisell even penned the following poem about space:

[ S p a c e C r e a t e ]
Create space.
Trust space.
Story space.
Listen space.
Forgiveness space.
Argue space.
Resolution space.
More space.
Less space.
Danger place.
Safe space.
Open space.
Play space.
Lonely place.
Peace space.
Lovely space.
The right space.
Space place.
Time space.
Outer space.
More space.
Big space.
Love space.

Church staff, council, and I have been working on our Ministry Site Profile (MSP) as we move forward in the call process for an Associate Pastor. This document has over seventy blank spaces to fill in information about our congregation. Space after space asks for details about our location, attendance, financial records, and references, as well as who we are, what we believe, where we’ve been, why we do what we do, what we hope for in a pastor, and where God is calling us in the future.

As we talk and write, there are many questions about space, too. While our physical spaces and the many ways we use our building and campus for ministry are important, the MSP also wants to know about our theological spaces, mental spaces, spiritual spaces, emotional and prayer-filled spaces. What drives us? How does the community view us? What are our strengths and growing edges? We wrote extensively about God’s presence here in our spaces and the ways we’re shaped by joy, collaboration, flexibility, invitation, wonder, welcome, inclusion, intentionality, integrity, and purpose. Space for all kinds of people and faith is a priority.

Jesus was always making space. Space at tables, in worship, in conversation, in community, through reconciliation, invitation, and healing. He wasn’t afraid to enter hostile spaces or holy places, and was eager to lead people to new spaces of justice and freedom.

God continues to dwell among us, inviting us into spaces of renewal and transformation. I’m hopeful that this Lenten season is freeing up space in your heart, soul, and mind as you are filled with the Good News of Jesus.

Always looking for more space to live, share, and celebrate,
Pastor Lowell

Listen to Bill Frisell play “When You Wish Upon a Star” here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f1UA9HQlkOc
Jack Kenny’s article: https://www.allaboutjazz.com/in-my-dreams-bill-frisell-blue-note-records

Of course, it was the dog that first made me notice. The loyal companion with a heart on his forehead named Aloka (Āloka). He was once a stray dog wandering in India who began following the Venerable monks in India and then coming to America for the 2300-mile peace walk across the country. With the turmoil in our world, I was drawn to following their journey of spreading peace through unwavering commitment, strength, healing, and quiet presence. I needed this story and journey.

If you haven’t heard about the walk,19 Venerable monks walked from Texas to Washington, DC in 108 days. They walked 20 miles a day, mostly in a single line and often barefoot. A "venerable monk" is a title of high respect bestowed upon Buddhist monks (and sometimes nuns or Christian figures) known for their deep wisdom, virtue, and long-term commitment to spiritual practice. The term highlights their esteemed status, moral integrity, and role as dedicated guides in monastic life.

I needed to see the scenes of people gathering to welcome them with quiet gestures of peace, flowers, waves of joy, and tearful acknowledgement of their humble presence. The walk has been a reminder for me of the unwavering peace that the Holy Spirit weaves in our lives if we allow it to work in our hearts. Jesus promises us a divine, eternal, and inner peace in the midst of life’s storms, offering, "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not let them be afraid” (John 14:27). I am holding fast to these truths.

Episcopal Bishop Mariann Budde, who helped the monks host an interfaith reception at the end of their walk, said, “Their long journey and gentle witness invite us all to deepen our commitment to compassion.” How can we carry peace in our footsteps and spread compassion to all those we encounter as a witness to God’s love? In a world where division is so prevalent, how beautiful that a multitude of faiths can come together in the name of peace and community.

Traveling beside the monks, always quietly teaching without words, was Aloka. Through his gentle presence, people learned that healing doesn’t always speak. Sometimes it sits or walks beside you, reminding you of love and peace. God is our ever-present comfort and guide on our journey. Like the meaning of Aloka (illumination, and positive energy), our heavenly Father brings vision and clarity to light our way.

In gratitude,
Angie Seiller, Director of Faith Formation