He Took the First Step

Paul DurbinLead Pastor
June 4, 2026

2 Minute Read

Reconciliation always takes two parties. One person can do everything in their power, but if the other doesn't respond, nothing changes. Anyone who's lived through a broken relationship knows this in their bones.

Here's what wrecks me about the gospel: we were the ones who walked away. Paul says we were "alienated" and "enemies in our minds because of our evil behavior." That's strong language. And yet Colossians 1 doesn't say humanity finally figured it out, climbed high enough, prayed loud enough, or got religious enough to earn God's attention. It says He reconciled us. He moved first. He took the step. He gave His own body on the cross to close the gap we created.

Think about that the next time you feel far from God. He's not standing across the canyon with arms folded, waiting for you to perform your way back. He already crossed. The blood of Jesus has already been shed. The hand is already extended. Your part is simply to receive it.

And here's the beautiful ripple effect: because He moved toward us, we get to move toward others. That relationship you've been waiting on someone else to fix? Maybe you're the one who gets to be like Jesus this week. Maybe you take the first step. Maybe you send the text. Maybe you offer the hug before the words come.

That's what people who are on belay do—we move first, because Someone moved first for us.

165 | Why Should Jesus Be the Center?

In this message from Colossians 1:15-23, Pastor Paul Durbin walks us through what many scholars call the most Christ-centered passage in the New Testament. Paul unpacks eight powerful reasons Jesus insists on being the center of our lives—not a welcome guest, not an add-on, but the absolute nucleus around which everything else revolves. From Jesus being the visible image of the invisible God, to the Creator who holds all things together, to the One who reconciles us back to the Father through the cross, this teaching invites us to ask an honest question: Is Jesus truly at the center of my life?

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June 4, 20262 Minute Read
He Took the First Step
Reconciliation always takes two parties. One person can do everything in their power, but if the other doesn't respond, nothing changes. Anyone who's lived through a broken relationship knows this in their bones. Here's what wrecks me about the gospel: we were the ones who walked away. Paul says we were "alienated" and "enemies in our minds because of our evil behavior." That's strong language. And yet Colossians 1 doesn't say humanity finally figured it out, climbed high enough, prayed loud enough, or got religious enough to earn God's attention. It says He reconciled us. He moved first. He took the step. He gave His own body on the cross to close the gap we created. Think about that the next time you feel far from God. He's not standing across the canyon with arms folded, waiting for you to perform your way back. He already crossed. The blood of Jesus has already been shed. The hand is already extended. Your part is simply to receive it. And here's the beautiful ripple effect: because He moved toward us, we get to move toward others. That relationship you've been waiting on someone else to fix? Maybe you're the one who gets to be like Jesus this week. Maybe you take the first step. Maybe you send the text. Maybe you offer the hug before the words come. That's what people who are on belay do—we move first, because Someone moved first for us.reconcile
June 2, 20262 Minute Read
Who's Actually on Your Throne?
Who's actually on the throne of your heart right now? Most of us would quickly answer "Jesus." But if we slow down and really look, we might notice some other things sneaking up there. A political opinion. A favorite voice on a podcast. A career goal. A worry that runs on a loop in our minds. Even good things—family, ministry, hobbies—can quietly slide into the spot only Jesus is meant to fill. Paul tells the Colossians that Jesus is the image of the invisible God, the Creator of everything, the One who holds it all together. That's not someone you invite over for coffee. That's someone you build your whole life around. Jesus isn't looking to be a welcome guest who fits nicely into the life you've already arranged. He's after the center. The good news? You don't have to white-knuckle this. The same Jesus who deserves the throne also gives you the strength to keep Him there. His Spirit does the work in you. Your job is simply to keep saying yes—to keep climbing back onto the altar when you've crawled off, to keep returning to the center when you've drifted. So today, just ask the question honestly. Who's on the throne? And if it's not Jesus, you don't have to fix it alone. Just invite Him back to the seat that was always His.Throne
May 26, 20262 Minute Read
A Complaining Tongue Tells On Us
"A complaining tongue reveals an ungrateful heart." That one stings a little, doesn't it? It's simple, but it lands. Because if we're honest, most of us live in a culture where complaining is just how we talk. Reviews, ratings, group texts, break rooms—complaining is the background music of modern life. And the strange part is, it never actually makes us feel better. It just puts the worst thing front and center and keeps it there. Paul prays in Colossians 1 that we'd give "joyful thanks to the Father." Joyful thanks. Not polite thanks. Not religious thanks. The kind of gratitude that bubbles up because we actually see what God has done for us. He qualified us. He rescued us. He brought us into the kingdom of His Son. That's a lot to be grateful for before we even get to coffee in the morning. Here's a small experiment this week: every time you catch yourself starting to complain, pause and name one thing you're grateful for instead. Out loud, if you can. You'll be surprised how quickly your mood shifts—and how quickly the people around you notice. You can't complain and give thanks at the same time. One of them is going to win. Let it be gratitude.gratitude
May 26, 20262 Minute Read
What Used to Level You
The thing that wrecked you three years ago might not have the same power over you today. That's not because life got easier. It's because you got stronger. Paul prays in Colossians 1 that we'd be "strengthened with all power according to His glorious might so that we may have great endurance and patience." Notice he doesn't pray that the hard stuff would stop. He prays that we'd be the kind of people who can carry it differently when it comes. That's spiritual maturity. Not a life without setbacks, but a soul that's been quietly reinforced by the Spirit over time. The disappointment that used to take you weeks to recover from now takes days. The criticism that used to ruin your week now rolls off a little quicker. The setback that once made you want to quit—you're still standing. If you're in a hard season right now, don't miss this: God isn't wasting it. He's building something in you. Strength, power, and endurance aren't gifts He drops from the sky—they're grown in the middle of stuff that hurts. And one day, you'll look back and realize what used to level you doesn't anymore. That's grace doing its quiet work. Keep going. You're stronger than you were.
May 20, 20262 Minute Read
Turn and Keep Turning
Following Jesus is not about never stumbling. But it’s often about learning to turn back quickly. All of us mess up. We say things we should not say. We look at things we should not look at. We chase things that cannot give us life. We get selfish, distracted, proud, tired, or just plain foolish. That is not an excuse. It is just honest. But here is the good news: when we do stupid, we do not have to keep doing stupid. Repentance is not a one-time religious word we dust off when life falls apart. It is a daily movement of the heart. We turn from sin and turn toward Jesus. Then, when we drift again, we turn again. And then again. And then again. Not in panic. Not in shame. But in trust. David prayed, “Turn my heart toward your statutes, not toward selfish gain. Turn my eyes away from worthless things.” I love that because David knows he needs help. He is not pretending he can muscle his way into holiness. He is asking God to turn him from the inside out. That is where the path of purity really begins. Not with willpower. Not with pretending. Not with hiding. It begins by yielding to Jesus, the One who cleanses us, forgives us, and gives us His life. So today, if the Spirit shows you something, don’t run from Him. Turn toward Him. For more reflection, spend some time with the full sermon and study guide.Turn and Keep Turning
May 20, 20262 Minute Read
The Freedom of a Good Fence
Sometimes the thing that feels like a restriction is actually the thing that helps us run. That sounds backwards, doesn’t it? Most of us hear the word “freedom” and think it means no limits, no boundaries, nobody telling us what to do. But real life teaches us something different. A child on a playground without a fence often stays close to the teacher. But put a fence around that same playground, and suddenly the child runs, explores, climbs, laughs, and plays. That is a pretty good picture of God’s commands. God is not trying to steal life from us. He is not trying to shrink our joy. He is giving us guardrails so we do not drive our lives into the ditch. David says, “I run in the path of your commandments, for you have set my heart free.” That is not a trapped man talking. That is someone who has discovered that surrender to God leads to a deeper kind of freedom. So maybe the question is not, “What can I get away with?” Maybe the better question is, “What guardrails would help me become the person I actually want to be in Jesus?” That may mean a boundary with your phone, a habit, a relationship, your schedule, or what you let into your mind. Not because God is harsh, but because He is good. If you want to keep thinking about this, check out the full sermon and study guide on walking the path of purity.How Do We Stay on the Path of Purity?
May 12, 20262 Minute Read
The Cure for a Self-Absorbed Heart
What if the cure for a self-absorbed heart is a generous one? When Paul wrote to the Corinthians, he'd just spent fifteen chapters (of 1 Corinthians) confronting some serious mess—lawsuits, immorality, even doubts about the resurrection. And then, almost out of nowhere, he pivots in chapter 16 and starts talking about… a collection. For people a thousand miles away. People the Corinthians would never meet, never hear from, never get a thank-you note from. I don't think that pivot was random. I think Paul knew something we forget: one of the surest ways out of our own stuff is to start paying attention to someone else's. Generosity has a way of breaking the gravitational pull of self. It reorients our hearts. It reminds us we're part of something bigger than our own bank accounts and our own backyard. I remember the first time Patty and I gave away money I really wanted to keep. It was guitar money—mine—and the Lord nudged me to give it to a friend so he could buy a bass. It hurt a little. But when I saw his face the next day, something cracked open in me. Money lost a little bit of its grip, and joy moved in. That's what missional giving does. It loosens what's tight in us and makes room for God to work. If you want to hear more, listen to the full sermon or dig into the study guide—and ask Him where He might be inviting you to look beyond yourself this week.View Media
May 3, 20262 Minute Read
The Book of Acts Ends on an Adverb
The book of Acts ends on an adverb. Seriously. Luke—one of the most careful, polished writers in the early church—stops his story mid-sentence on the word "unhindered." Paul is under house arrest, the verdict is unclear, the churches are scattered, and Luke just… puts the pen down. It feels like a mistake. But I think it's actually the point. The story wasn't over when Luke stopped writing. It still isn't. The Spirit who came at Pentecost, the gospel that cut three thousand people to the heart, the unnamed men and women from Cyprus who just started talking about Jesus to their neighbors—that whole movement keeps going. And somewhere in the middle of it is you and me. I think a lot of us read the Bible like it's a closed book about people who lived a long time ago. But Acts refuses to let us do that. It hands us the pen. It says: keep writing. Keep walking. Keep telling people about Jesus in your kitchen, on your hike, at the coffee shop, in the carpool line. You don't need a title or a platform. The gospel reached the Gentiles because of people Luke didn't even bother to name. That's encouraging to me. The story of Jesus at work in the world has always moved forward on the backs of regular people who simply stayed devoted and stayed available. So—where are you in the story right now? Name it. Tell someone. And then take the next small step. This thought is based on this recent sermon by Kevan Ho:View Media