Opening: God lavishes His overflowing grace upon His children.

God’s lavishing grace

“And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that having all sufficiency in all things at all times, you may abound in every good work.” (2 Corinthians 9:8)

Overflowing when we plant our possessions.

“The point is this: whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows bountifully will also reap bountifully.” (v.6)

Investing vs. Wasting

The Joys of Compounding (Gautam Baid)

“Warren is better in his seventies and eighties, in many ways, than he was when he was younger, If you keep learning all the time, you have a wonderful advantage” (Charlie Munger)

“Time is a currency of life – the more you use it, the valuable it becomes.” (Gautam Baid)

“The rich invest in time, the poor invest in money.” (Warren Buffett)

“He who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will supply and multiply your seed for sowing and increase the harvest of your righteousness.” (v.10)

Overflowing when we experience good works.

“So that having all sufficiency in all things at all times, you may abound in every good work.” (v.8b)

“Tell me and I’ll forget; show me and I may remember; involve me and I’ll understand.” (Chinese Proverb)

The Extinction of Experience (Christine Rosen)

Stone Soup Story

Closing: Let us boldly offer our lives before God’s overflowing grace.

Introduction

I want to begin with a simple question for you to think about for a moment: When was the last time you spent at least 30 minutes reflecting on your life?

And when I say reflecting, here’s what I mean.
I’m talking about reflecting on your actions—and your reactions.
I’m talking about looking back at the beliefs that have shaped us and the shame we’ve carried along the way.
It could also mean taking time to listen closely to God’s Word and to consider how His Word intersects with this particular season of your life.
When was the last time you paused to discern, What is God’s will for my life right now?

We all know, at least in theory, that taking time to reflect is wise. Reflection helps us notice where we are, identify what is shaping us, and make necessary adjustments as we move forward. And yet, for many of us, this is incredibly difficult.

We live in a society that is hurried, overstimulated, and constantly demanding our attention. Slowing down feels unnatural. Creating space for reflection often feels inefficient—or even irresponsible. There is always something to do, something to catch up on, something waiting for our response.

So many of us live with the subtle assumption that if we slow down too much, things will fall apart.
What happens if things don’t get done?
What if I don’t get into that college, pass that exam, land that job, or get that promotion?
What if it messes up my plans, my timeline, my goals, my life?

So we keep going. We keep pushing. We keep moving forward without stopping to ask where we’re headed—or what this pace is doing to us.

And yet, ironically, this hurried way of living often creates the very damage we are trying to avoid. We become exhausted, reactive, and spiritually numb. Our relationships feel strained. Our attentiveness to God grows thinner and quieter.

The truth is, many of us live at a violent pace—a pace in which we do violence against ourselves, violence against others, and violence against our relationship with God.

That is why Scripture consistently invites us into a different kind of life—a life of examination and reflection—where we slow down, look inward, and honestly locate ourselves before the Lord. And I don’t think there is a better Sunday to do that than the last Sunday of the year.

Henri Nouwen once said, “We would do well to spend 50% of our lives reflecting on the other 50% that’s lived.”
Whether or not that is literally possible, the point is clear: most of us spend very little time reflecting on our lives. God, however, is offering us a different way—a more reflective and contemplative life. That is why our text in Lamentations is so important for us today.

Introduction

When we imagine Christmas, we often picture something wholesome and beautiful: a calm and joyful morning. The house feels warm. The tree is lit. Coffee is already made. The kids wake up happy and grateful. Everyone is dressed on time to go to church. There’s no rushing, no arguing, no tears—just peace. We come to church with settled hearts, ready to worship, ready to celebrate, ready to speak about Jesus with joy and clarity.

If I’m honest, that’s often how I envision Christmas. I long for it to be calm and collected—a morning where my heart feels ready, where I can come to church centered, joyful, and spiritually prepared. But the reality is often very different.

The morning is rushed. Someone is crying. Someone can’t find their shoes. Someone is already exhausted—and sometimes that someone is me. With three kids, the energy is drained before the day has even begun. Instead of peace, there’s chaos. Instead of calm, there’s mess. And I suspect that experience isn’t unique.

We all carry some version of that gap between expectation and reality. We envision Christmas as picture-perfect, but we arrive carrying the mess of real life—stress, fatigue, unresolved conflict, grief, disappointment, or quiet anxiety. And yet, the good news of Christmas is this: that is exactly the kind of world Jesus came into.