Take the Step

“You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.” ~Matthew 5:14–16

“Faith is taking the first step even when you don’t see the whole staircase.” ~Martin Luther King Jr.

My inner dreamer and my little-kid brain have been working overtime these past few days. I get genuinely excited when I see people stepping into their dreams and watching things fall into place. At the same time, I’ve notice that I too am wanting something from my dreams and it has a connection from something from the past.

Go with me here—I’m thinking about the old Hancock Senior Citizens Center (and yes, I know I’m dating myself). I remember how Grandma would invite us to stop by in the afternoon because she was “in charge of coffee.” That meant she brought the treats and made the coffee. Locals would show up, eat the treats (usually with commentary about how they didn’t need them but were having them anyway), and linger over warm mugs.

In my little-kid memory, what I really see is connection. The ladies gathered around tables sharing town happenings—some factual, some slightly fabricated. The men sat in the corner playing cards, talking less but intensely focused on the strategy of whatever hand they’d been dealt. Sometimes there were puzzles, sometimes crafts, but never a television. No smartphones. No scrolling. Just people interacting.

And when the grandkids showed up, there were moments for grandparents to brag, unapologetically, about their pride and joy. There were interactions with other kids’ grandparents that made you feel like you had an entire village (or army) cheering you on. Those simple moments made a child feel like they could do anything. That feeling of being deeply loved and fiercely supported creates that kind of confidence.

As I sit with those memories, I can’t help but wonder about our world today. I find myself thinking, we need more Hancock Senior Citizens Centers.

What if there were spaces where people could come together to eat the treats, drink the coffee, and share life? What if there were less noise, less phone scrolling, and more presence? What if people could learn how to play pinochle, knit a blanket, or simply have a conversation with another human being? No filters. No AI. Just people sitting together, looking each other in the eye, seeing the wrinkles, noticing the smiles, and sharing belly laughs.

Our world is struggling. Human beings hurt one another in the pursuit of money. Lighthearted banter over a card game has turned into riots. Disagreements escalate into assault and murder. Fear leads people to hide behind masks, emotionally and physically in the name of safety.

As I’ve been reading the Bible this week with a focus on faith, I’ve realized something uncomfortable: I often give lip service to faith. I like the idea of faith, but I don’t always live it. When I slowed down to reflect on the meaning of faith and hope, I am reminded that faith is confident trust in God. Faith is believing that even when things don’t make sense, we still step forward in active reliance on His promises.

Faith takes root when we know that God is love. That knowing strengthens the roots making them deeper and healthier. As faith grows, trust grows. Not because everything turns out the way we want, but because we begin to recognize God’s sovereign presence in every part of our lives. From that place, hope is produced. Hope that the ups and downs, the ins and outs, will be used to draw us and others closer to God.

Our world is struggling. We need more moments where we look each other in the eye. More spaces where a grandmother can proudly brag about her grandchild. Where a kid leaves feeling loved by a village. Where belly laughs are common and playful banter over cards leaves people feeling connected—not offended.

Today, my prayer is that we would all find (or help create) spaces where we put down our phones, step away from our computers, turn off the television, and get off the couch. Spaces where we connect with one another, take off the masks, get curious, listen deeply, and love well.

May we be the shining light we were created to be.