Groveland Edge United Methodist Church
May 2026 E-Journal
May 1st , 2026 What if we lived more intentionally by planting seeds with one mission in mind: creating spaces where people can step into caring for people? A seed can be small. A kind word. A simple invitation. A meal. A ride. A prayer. A conversation. But when planted with purpose, that seed can grow into something much bigger than we imagine. Every time we create a space where someone feels seen, supported, or invited to help, we are planting. We are building a world where care becomes easier to step into. Imagine neighborhoods, churches, workplaces, and communities where the mission is simple: make room for care. Not everyone knows how to help right away. Sometimes people just need permission and direction. They need someone to plant the first seed and show them that caring is not about perfection. It is about presence. When we intentionally plant seeds of care, we are not just helping one person. We are creating places where compassion can grow for generations. So today, ask yourself: What seed can I plant? What space can I help create so others can step in too? Your small act of care may become someone else’s place of hope.
May 2nd , 2026 Growing up as the child of co-pastors, my parents taught me something powerful. Sometimes real change happens quietly in the background. They showed me that meaningful work does not always come with recognition. Sometimes you plant seeds, help build something good, and then watch others receive the credit. That can hurt. But they also taught me to surrender that hurt to God. This week, we have been talking about planting seeds. I have shared how ministries and shared spaces have been planted at Edge UMC, but what I have not fully told you is that many of these seeds were quietly planted while I faithfully stood back and watched others lead, water, and help them grow. There is something powerful about knowing you helped start something meaningful and then choosing quiet faithfulness over recognition. I love seeing the action, compassion, and community support growing at Edge. We are helping so many people, and that matters far more than applause. I want to continue planting seeds at Edge UMC for the Kingdom of God in Groveland, Florida. I am preparing myself to quietly bring Mighty Caregivers into spaces wherever people can step into care. My heart is to keep planting, keep serving, and keep building spaces where God’s love can grow through people willing to care. God’s plan is bigger than titles, applause, or recognition. Sometimes our role is simply to serve, build, and trust that what God begins through us still matters. Take comfort in this: you do not always need credit to know you made a difference. Sometimes the greatest impact comes through quiet faithfulness. Next week, we will begin focusing on what it means to serve people for the Kingdom of God. I am looking forward to sharing this journey with you, and I hope it inspires you to keep planting seeds right where you are.
May 3rd, 2026 Yesterday, I was on the phone with my friend Christine, one of the Mighty Caregivers right here in our midst of people who care in this Circle. We were simply talking when she started mumbling about how much gas cost. I had no idea she was pulling into a gas station. In the middle of our conversation, she suddenly stepped away, but the phone was still on. What happened next felt powerful. I could hear the entire moment unfold as Christine noticed someone nearby who needed help at the gas pump. Without hesitation, this Mighty Caregiver stepped in with compassion and love to help another person use their card at the pump. I listened quietly as someone from our own Circle moved into care in real time. In that moment, I felt God’s presence. This was not a planned ministry moment. There was no spotlight. No audience. Just Christine noticing someone in need and choosing to serve. Afterward, Christine explained that the woman she helped had a medical issue and was unable to step out of the car and just needed help to put her card into the pump to pay for gas. Think about that. A simple stop for gas became Kingdom work. This is what the Mighty Kingdom looks like. It is built through people like Christine, and through each of us, in everyday places through everyday moments. At a gas station. In a parking lot. During an ordinary phone call. God’s Kingdom often grows through simple acts of care. Christine reminded me that Mighty Caregivers are already among us. Right here in this Circle, there are people quietly serving, noticing, and stepping in when others need help. Serving people with care is not always loud. Sometimes it sounds like compassion at pump number three. Mighty Caregivers, never underestimate how God can use an ordinary moment to do extraordinary Kingdom work. This week, stay aware. Someone near you may need kindness, compassion, or simple help. And maybe, like Christine, you are already exactly where God needs you to be. Scripture: “Let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth.” 1 John 3:18 The Mighty Kingdom grows when care becomes action.
May 4th, 2026 This was spoken at church yesterday, and it has been sitting with me ever since. Matthew 28:16–20, where Jesus meets His disciples after the resurrection. They gathered, some full of faith and some still unsure, and Jesus spoke something powerful into that moment. He said that all authority in heaven and on earth has been given to Him, and then He gave them direction to go. Not to wait, not to wonder if they were ready, not to figure everything out first, but simply to go. As I was thinking about this, I was taken back to a moment during Covid when I was working as an Activity Director in an assisted living community in Pennsylvania. Everything had changed. The routines were gone. The connection was gone. The residents were isolated, and I could feel the weight of it every day. I knew I had to find new ways to engage people. I had to get going. There was no choice in that moment. I was scared. I did not have a perfect plan. I did not know if anything would work, but I kept going, not just because I had to, but because I wanted to. The residents needed something. They needed connection again. One day, we started talking as a team. The residents kept saying how much they missed bingo. It was more than a game. It was joy. It was community. So we decided to try something new. We called it hall bingo. Each of us took an hour and went down the hallways, inviting residents to sit in their doorways. We kept distance, we stayed safe, and we played bingo right there in the halls. It was simple. It was not perfect, but it worked. You could feel the shift. Laughter came back. Smiles returned. People felt seen again. Looking back now, I realize that was a “go” moment. We did not wait for permission. We did not wait for perfect conditions. We just went. This is what Jesus was talking about. He gives us the authority to step into moments like that, not because we have everything figured out, but because we are willing. When you step into care, you are going. When you create something out of nothing to help someone, you are going. When you push through fear to bring connection to others, you are going. And the promise still stands that He is with us always. So today, do not overthink it. Just go with kindness, go with compassion, and go with a willing heart. You never know what simple idea, like hall bingo, could become a moment that brings life back to someone.
May 5th, 2026 There is something powerful that happens when we slow down and truly listen. Not just to people, but to the quiet movement of the Kingdom of God all around us. So often, care is not loud or announced. It shows up in small moments, soft nudges, and simple opportunities to step in. You may or may not know this about me, but I live with about 60 percent hearing loss in both ears. I wear hearing aids in both ears, and every day I have to practice intentional hearing. If I do not, I simply cannot hear well. But it is more than just listening. I have learned to watch faces, read lips, and pay close attention to expressions. In many ways, I listen with my eyes. Sometimes I need to move a conversation to a quieter space just so I can fully hear someone. I also make it a point to tell people when I first meet them that I truly want to hear them. I let them know about my hearing loss and ask them to let me know if it seems like I missed something. What I have found is that this honesty builds a strong bond. People feel seen, and I feel connected. Do I miss parts of conversations? Yes. Do I want to miss them? No. That is why I stay intentional. I am always looking for ways to listen better, because listening is how I serve. And this has taught me something deeper about the Kingdom of God. Listening is not passive. It is active. It is intentional. It takes effort. It asks us to slow down, to adjust, and to truly notice what is in front of us. The Kingdom of God is often found in those very moments. In the pause. In the quiet nudge. In the choice to lean in instead of move on. What if we all listened like that? What if we paid attention not just with our ears, but with our eyes, our presence, and our hearts? As caregivers, we are already positioned to notice. The invitation is to be intentional with it. To listen for the needs that are not always spoken. To respond to the small moments that others might miss. Today, take a moment to listen with intention. There is care waiting to be given. And there is a place for you to step in.
May 6th, 2026 The Kingdom of God often shows up in simple moments. It is not always loud or planned. It is found when someone pauses to notice, when someone chooses to care, and when someone creates space for others to step in and help. This is how the Kingdom grows. It grows through people who are willing to provide opportunities for care. I remember being in 7th grade and wanting to be part of the choir at church. I went to visit the choir director, Marjorie. She sat next to me at the piano and asked me to sing from the hymnal. My favorite song was “We Will Break Bread Together,” and I was ready. I gave it my best. When the song ended, she looked at me and gently said, “Jeremy, we also have the bell choir.” It turns out I could not carry a tune, and singing was not my strength. But that moment was not a rejection. It was an invitation. I joined the bell choir, and it became something I loved for years. It was an opportunity I was not expecting. Looking back, it gave me a whole new appreciation for music. I was still making music for the Kingdom of God, just in a different way. Every time we played on Sundays or at special events, I was part of something meaningful. Sometimes providing opportunities looks just like what Marjorie did. She saw where I could fit. She created a path instead of closing a door. That is what we get to do as Mighty Caregivers. We notice, we guide, and we create spaces where people can step in and be part of something bigger. You may not realize it, but when you offer an opportunity for someone to care, to serve, or to belong, you are helping build the Kingdom of God. You are helping someone find their place.