Dear Talmadge Hill Family,
Last Sunday was inspirational as we celebrated thirty years of Rob's ministry among us. It was wonderful to see so many people showing up for Rob and Talmadge Hill and to hear him share stories from the past. We laughed, we celebrated, and there were tears.
I am glad Rob shared so many stories, as research shows that shared narratives do far more than preserve the past—they actively shape our collective faith and identity. When we tell stories together, we're not just reminiscing; we're discerning who we are, what we value, and where God might be leading us, strengthening our community bonds.
Storytelling matters particularly in liminal seasons like ours. In times of transition, stories become anchors that connect us as a community. They remind us we've crossed thresholds before and reveal the core values we've lived out together, reinforcing our shared identity. Last Sunday, in honoring Rob's three decades of faithful presence, we were remembering ourselves—acknowledging that this community knows how to sing songs of faithfulness across time.
This Sunday, the Third Sunday of Advent, we continue asking: "What do you fear?" Our scriptures—Jeremiah 1:4-10 and Luke 1:26-39—offer two powerful call stories that begin exactly where we find ourselves: in self-doubt and uncertainty.
Both Jeremiah and Mary protest their inadequacies. "I am only a boy!" "How can this be?" Yet both discover something profound: their God-given identity is more fundamental than their fear. They are loved, known, and called to serve.
What's most compelling about Mary's story is what happens next. She doesn't retreat into solitary contemplation. Instead, she hurries to the hill country to be with Elizabeth. Her belovedness doesn't make her self-sufficient; it makes her relational. She needs community to help her learn the songs of what she is carrying, to wait through the slow unfolding of God's promise, and to sing the dangerous, revolutionary Magnificat.
We move forward not because we are strong enough, but because our identity—woven together in community—is stronger than our fear. We carry songs we didn't write ourselves. We journey together, not alone.
Join us Sunday as we discover that even in our fear, we keep moving forward together. Know this: You are not alone. You are loved. You are known. You are sent to serve, and your presence makes a difference in our shared journey.
I am looking forward to seeing you on Sunday,
Dries