We've been tricked into thinking that church happens on Sunday mornings. We've systemized, industrialized, and Americanized the church into a consumer experience. We show up expecting to be fed, entertained, and sent on our way—transaction complete.

But the church was never meant to fit into our world. It was meant to reveal a whole new world.

The weight of worry sits heavy on our shoulders. We lie awake at 3 AM, our minds racing through every possible scenario for the next week, month, or year. We calculate our bank accounts, mentally review our to-do lists, and rehearse conversations that haven't happened yet. We've become experts at time travel—not the fun kind, but the exhausting journey into imagined futures filled with potential disasters.

When we think about love, we often imagine safety, warmth, and reciprocation. We guard our hearts carefully, building walls to protect ourselves from potential hurt. We categorize people—those worth loving and those who aren't. But what if the most transformative kind of love is the kind that seems completely irresponsible?