Monday - June 22, 2026

SCRIPTURE  Paul’s Letter to the Church at Ephesus, Chapter 2, verses 8-9 For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God— not the result of works, so that no one may boast. WORDS OF HOPE Saint, Sinner, or Both? Since the days of the Garden of Eden, humans have been fascinated by the idea of good and evil. Too often, our understanding of good and evil has led us to mistakenly believe that people are either good OR evil. In truth, we can be both. Perfectly imperfect humans, we are claimed for the precious gift that we are by the Creator of the greatest gift that there is—Divine Grace. Such Grace was demonstrated through the life and ministry of Jesus. But following Jesus’ teachings can be challenging, to say the least. The Hebrew word for “sin” can mean “missing the mark,” as when a marksman misses the target. But like it’s Greek counterpart, “sin” can also mean “moral failure.” It can be a sin to fail to act or to squander our gifts and abilities. Mortal rebellion can take the form of wasting our talent, failing to act in love, refusing to be kind. It is not difficult to manifest the evil and the selfishness that lies within. It is more challenging to grow our innate goodness into a lifestyle of Grace. We are not perfect, but we are good and precious. We are not solely evil, but we are often sinful and selfish. Sometimes, we are just lazy or afraid to do the right thing—whatever that may be. Sin, which is a part of humanity, need not dominate us. Overcoming it requires a relationship with the One who calls us to live into our gifts and live up to our greatest potential. It is a call to save us from ourselves. Love is the greatest gift. Love is the reason for life. Love is the source of the Christ we seek to follow and the Christ who lives within us. Grace is what we are called to both receive and to share. If our concept of God, our understanding and practice of religion, is not rooted in love then it is useless. Today is “Juneteenth,” the date we commemorate the message of Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation finally being received by those bound in slavery in and around Galveston and the Texas Gulf Coast. May we choose to accept the gifts of freedom: Freedom to love, to serve, to be real, to be kind. PRAYER Loving God, may we grow in love and acceptance of ourselves and each other. Grant us the courage to be real, to be kind, to show compassion, to be bearers of your Grace. Amen. DEVOTION AUTHOR Rev. Dr. Gary G. Kindley, LPC Pastoral Psychotherapist DrGK.org

SCRIPTURE Hebrews 2:5–9 What are human beings that you are mindful of, or mortals that you care for? WORDS OF HOPE Autistic Pride Day Today is more than just a date on the calendar. It is —a day that invites reflection on the sacred dignity of autistic people everywhere. It is a reminder that neurodivergent minds are not mistakes to be corrected, but lives to be honored. Too often, society has reduced autism to stereotypes—sometimes through portrayals like Rain Man, and other times through misunderstanding, silence, or exclusion. But autism has never been one story. It is a spectrum of human experience shaped by intensity, creativity, sensitivity, memory, pattern, and perception. For me—and for many autistic people—the world does not arrive quietly. Sounds, smells, lights, textures, and environments can feel immediate and overwhelming. Over time, I have learned there is wisdom in honoring those realities instead of apologizing for them. Sometimes that means choosing quieter spaces like Half Price Books over loud and overstimulating environments. There is comfort in predictable shelves, familiar silence, and the gentle order of books. Those choices are not limitations. They are forms of self-understanding. As a child, I was drawn to systems and patterns—airplanes, dinosaurs, NASA launchpads, construction equipment, maps, history. I lined up Matchbox cars across the floor and built tiny cities because order made sense to me in ways the social world often did not. And like many autistic people, I learned early what it felt like to be different. From school through college, I experienced bullying and teasing for my routines, intensity, and way of communicating. I learned to mask—to study people carefully, rehearse conversations, and edit parts of myself in order to fit in. But masking is exhausting. It teaches you how to survive while quietly convincing you that belonging must be earned through performance. And underneath all of that is a very human longing: to be loved without translation. Even so, I carried forward. I graduated high school. I graduated college. I earned both a bachelor’s degree and a master’s degree. Those milestones matter to me not because they define worth, but because they represent persistence in systems not always designed for neurodivergent minds. Today, I work alongside individuals with intellectual and developmental disabilities, including people with Down syndrome and other unique support needs. Those relationships have changed me deeply. They remind me again and again that dignity is inherent. Belonging should never be conditional. Some of the most compassionate, joyful, and genuine people I have ever met are people the world too often overlooks. Autism has also given me gifts I would never want to lose. My mind naturally connects details, stories, music, history, theology, and ideas. I notice patterns. I remember small things. I feel deeply. And honestly, I sometimes wonder if autistic people notice sacred things others miss. The comfort of repetition. The emotional weight of music. The ache of injustice. The relief of finally being understood. Perhaps what the world calls “sensitivity” is sometimes a form of attentiveness. There is also something important that must be said clearly: autistic individuals who are LGBTQIA+ are beloved exactly as they are. Their identities are not contradictions or problems to solve. They are sacred reflections of human diversity, worthy of dignity, affirmation, safety, and love. As an ally, I celebrate with my queer friends at Cathedral of Hope—a community that reminds me every week that love is expansive and that nobody should have to erase themselves in order to belong. As Temple Grandin once said, “I’m different, not less.” That truth feels deeply spiritual to me. I do not believe autism is a mistake. I believe neurodiversity is part of the beauty of creation itself. The same God who creates galaxies, oceans, fingerprints, ecosystems, and stars also creates different kinds of minds. In the poetry of the Book of Genesis, creation unfolds through rhythm, pattern, and wonder. Maybe that is why I find comfort in systems and detail. Maybe that is why I believe God is not frightened by difference. And sometimes I wonder—not literally, but spiritually—if God understands neurodivergent experience more deeply than we imagine. Not a God confined to categories, but a God who delights in complexity, notices what others overlook, and calls it good. Perhaps neurodivergent minds are not deviations from the image of God, but reflections of its vastness. Too often, religion has demanded conformity when Jesus seemed far more interested in compassion. Again and again, he moved toward those who had been excluded, misunderstood, or pushed aside. Maybe holiness has never been about pretending to be normal.  Maybe holiness looks more like honesty. More like tenderness. More like making room for each other. So today, on Autistic Pride Day, I do not celebrate perfection. I celebrate authenticity. I celebrate autistic people learning they do not have to apologize for who they are. I celebrate the slow unlearning of shame. Autistic people are not outside of God’s love. We never were. We are held within it. PRAYER God of wonder and compassion, You who made every mind and everybody with care, We give thanks for autistic people and the many ways they experience your world. For those who have been misunderstood, excluded, or asked to hide who they are, bring comfort, belonging, and peace. Remind us that no one is a mistake in Your creation— that every person is held in love, dignity, and purpose. May LGBTQIA+ autistic people know they are fully embraced, never divided in their identity, never beyond Your care. And teach us to see one another as You see us: beloved, whole, and enough. Amen. DEVOTION AUTHOR Reed Kirkman

SCRIPTURE  Luke 6:12-16 Now during those days, he went out to the mountain to pray, and he spent the night in prayer to God. And when day came, he called his disciples and chose twelve of them, whom he also named apostles: Simon, whom he named Peter, and his brother Andrew, and James, and John, and Philip, and Bartholomew, and Matthew, and Thomas, and James son of Alphaeus, and Simon, who was called the Zealot, and Judas son of James, and Judas Iscariot, who became a traitor. WORDS OF HOPE This passage almost sounds like a cast list from a movie. It lays out the 12 individuals who go on to play such a pivotal role in the spreading of Christ’s message and yet the key words escaped me until recently. The twelve go from being “disciples”, which means essentially pupils of Jesus to being “apostles”. That is a big change. The word “apostle” translates as envoy or emissary, literally “one sent off”. This is an important detail I missed, because it is the moment when they were transformed from followers to missionaries. This moment along with the Pentecost story changes the focus of the Scriptures from Jesus, the individual, into Jesus the idea. From here on out they story is about how Jesus’ message was spread far and wide. This moment marks the foundation of the church itself. As I consider that change, I am reminded that the work of spreading Jesus’ message didn’t end with the Apostles, it continues today through each person who follows his teaching. That means we are all called to continue that work, not just by our words, but by our actions. PRAYER May I live out Christ’s teachings and may my life become part of that message of love, justice and peace. Amen. DEVOTION AUTHOR Hardy Haberman

READING "What you do makes a difference, and you have to decide what kind of difference you want to make." -Jane Goodall  WORDS OF HOPE I have spent the last few weeks recovering from surgery. I thought I’d take this time to catch up on some reading, but instead I have been binge watching a four-season series on Netflix. It is a Canadian “romantic drama” that is filled with emotional relationships, medical situations, and the beautiful scenery of Nova Scotia. Much of the drama that defines the individual characters and the relationships between them centers on ideas such as being true to yourself, being honest, accepting responsibility for past actions, and seeking reconciliation. Themes of compassion, forgiveness, trust, prayer, and unconditional love also are woven throughout the story, which takes place in a small town in Nova Scotia. We meet and get to know the characters in community gathering spaces—a local diner, the town fire station, a hospital, individual homes, and the primary setting of a family-owned campground and its general store. The town, especially the campground, is a refuge for broken and hurting souls, for those seeking respite and rebirth, for people starting over with the hope of finding wholeness. I was almost through watching the entire first season when it dawned on me there was no church that was a part of this community, despite the fact that I felt it to be deeply spiritual. Paul wrote the following in his letter to the Romans (12:9-18) Let love be genuine. Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good. Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor. Do not be slothful in zeal, be fervent in spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints and seek to show hospitality. Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them. Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with one another. Do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly. Never be wise in your own sight. Repay no one evil for evil but give thought to do what is honorable in the sight of all. If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all. This is what the drama I watched was about, without ever mentioning religion or being in “a church.” It reminds me that being the church is not about what happens in the walls of a specific building on Sunday mornings. We are the church and we carry with us at all times the responsibility for the work of the church, work that is a 24/7 job. We don’t have to mention God or Jesus or quote Bible passages while on the job. Our actions will do that for us. We join together on Sunday mornings to be nourished so that we are equipped to do this work. Often times our group of friends would go to brunch after being in church on Sunday mornings. Someone would say or do something that was not reflective of how we are called to live as followers of Christ. The rest of us would respond with a chorus of, “Wow! Church didn’t even last fifteen minutes today!” It was said as a joke, sort of. But hearing those words does make one stop and think. Am I being the church that Jesus wants me to be? PRAYER Loving Creator, I ask for your blessing upon my efforts to serve others. May my actions be guided by your love and motivated by a genuine desire to make a difference in the lives of those around me. Amen DEVOTION AUTHOR Kris Baker Order of St. Francis and St. Clare

SCRIPTURE 1 Corinthians 13.13 And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love. WORDS OF HOPE How do you feel when you lose something important? I have different levels of replacement value that I put on different things. For family album pictures and things regarding the people I love among the highest valued things… Those irreplaceable objects of my affection. It’s almost like losing a memory of who I am; my origin. There are other things like work related items such as my calendar that I lost recently. I’m a hybrid old school/new school. I love to have a paper calendar back up, while also using a Google Calendar that can remind me of things I may clearly forget. But since I was a young child I remember looking feverishly for things that I had lost. Some things I never found again and by default would either forget about them or choose to let them go. It’s always difficult choosing to let go of a personal treasure. We all know what our particular feelings of loss are regarding material value versus people, friendships, and relationships. I don’t take losing the people I care about very lightly. There are so many friendships and relationships that I refuse to let go of, especially for loved ones that have passed. I have come to this point in my life in my mid-sixties, when I have begun categorizing and bullet pointing a list of those various losses and sometimes gains. Even when relationships come came to a close, I couldn’t help but think, like the eternal optimist I am, about cherishing the good and happy memories, before we ended our time together. I know more realistically sometimes it’s more difficult to move on and let go, but I know I’m not one of those people. It takes a lot for me to give up all hope. A lot. I think about what that means in the bigger picture… Maybe that’s just a taste of Jesus’ example of unconditional love. But I know in my heart, the creator of the universe does not consider any microbe of creation as “OK to lose”. That goes for you and me and all the things that exist in the space between spaces. And the only way I can justify believing that is this crazy little thing called love, that drive within us that the Apostle Paul calls the greatest. What will you do today to lose the negative, the toxic, and the things that simply don’t serve your time well? In the same regard what are the things that continue to bear fruit in your life, bring you joy, and lead you to practicing your greatest love? PRAYER May we have the faith to go forward into the ends and beginnings of life, always in hope and in love, remembering the assurance of your guidance along the way. Amen DEVOTION AUTHOR Charlie Rose  Order of St. Francis and St. Clare