I stepped into a classroom last week and noticed several students gathered at the clay table. I sat down to watch, captivated by their deep engagement. As a Reggio-inspired preschool, clay plays an essential role in our classroom. It is one of the “Hundred Languages,” a medium through which children bring their drawings, ideas, and visions to life.
 
As they worked, the children spoke naturally with one another, describing their creations and asking for tools. One little boy muttered about needing more “slip”—the watered-down clay used to help pieces adhere. He carefully rolled out a long, snake-like coil and attempted to attach it to another piece. When the result didn’t meet his expectations, he quickly grabbed both sections, smooshed them together, and rolled them into a ball. Undeterred, he began again, reshaping his idea and thinking aloud about what he might create next.
 
Nearby, another child had been forming a cat. After a moment of laughter with a friend about its shape, she reconsidered and confidently declared it a horse instead. I was struck by the children’s creativity and their intuitive understanding of the clay. Even more, I was moved by their persistence, their willingness to begin again and their determination to transform a stubborn gray lump into something meaningful and beautiful.
 
As I observed, I was reminded of Book of Isaiah 64:8: “Yet, O Lord, you are our Father. We are the clay, and you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand.” In that moment, I reflected on my own life and was reminded that neither the joys nor the challenges I face are random. God is continually shaping, molding, and refining me into who He intends me to be.
 
I pray that I remain malleable and open—willing to be guided, even when the process is
uncomfortable or unclear. Like clay pressed and reshaped, it can be painful to be stretched in one direction or broken in another. Yet I trust in His hands. As Isaiah reminds us, God is a loving Father, carefully forming each of us with purpose and care.
 
What He is creating in me is still unfolding, but I trust that it will be something as meaningful and beautiful as the creations I witnessed that day at the clay table.
 
Grace and peace,  
 Jennifer Sawicki
Director of Northbrook Preschool

I love order. When I read the creation story in Genesis—how God created the world with intention and order and then declared, “It is good”—my heart smiles. I picture everything in its place, everything working together as it should. I try to project this same order into my own life, embracing simplicity, a reasonable schedule, discipline, and love. Oh, how I try (and oh how my husband sits back and laughs).
 
But life gets in the way. Adult children move back home after graduating from college. Aging parents need help navigating the challenges that come with growing older. My own health issues demand attention. And sometimes life throws unexpected surprises—like a flooded basement after the water heater leaked fifty gallons of water and sat that way all weekend while we were away celebrating our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. All of it challenges my attempts to maintain discipline, order, and love in my own life. At best, I sit back and laugh. At worst, I contemplate quitting and running away to a small town in Alaska, leaving no forwarding address and disabling my cell phone.
 
During this season of Lent, I have been reading A.W. Tozer’s The Pursuit of God and Henri Nouwen’s The Way of the Heart. Tozer writes that we should “direct [our] heart’s attention to Jesus.” Distractions may pull us away, but when our hearts are committed to Him, our attention returns again and again—like a wandering bird returning to its window. Nouwen reminds us that while temptations and struggles will remain throughout our lives, with a pure heart we can still find rest even in the midst of a restless existence.
 
Life may never fully cooperate with our plans for order and balance. But when our attention continually returns to the Lord, we discover a deeper kind of peace—one not dependent on circumstances but grounded in His presence.
 
Prayer: Lord, when life feels disordered and overwhelming, gently draw my attention back to You. Help me rest in Your presence and trust You with every unfinished task, every worry, and every unexpected turn. Lord, please help me embrace life’s fearful mess with Your love and peace. Amen.

Yours In Christ,
Lauren Fain
​Financial Director

As we continue our journey through Lent, let us remember that this is a sacred season of reflection, repentance, and renewal. These forty days invite us to slow our pace, quiet our hearts, and listen more closely for the voice of God. In worship, you may notice that the music becomes simpler and contemplative, while the more joyful refrains wait patiently for Easter morning. Even these musical changes help guide us through this holy season. We sing of grace, mercy, and the cross. We allow minor keys and quieter melodies to create space for prayer. In many ways, this season reminds us that faith is not only expressed in triumphant songs, but also in whispered prayers and reflective harmonies.
 
As Palm Sunday, Holy Week and Easter approaches, I, along with the Northbrook Chancel Choir, would like to extend to you a special invitation to join us on a musical journey to the cross.
 
Palm Sunday is when we remember Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem. The crowds waved palm branches and cried, “Hosanna!” welcoming Him as King. Our chancel choir and children’s choir will echo that ancient praise with joyful hymns and anthems that proclaim Christ as King.
 
As the week unfolds, we journey through the solemn remembrance of the Last Supper on Maundy Thursday, where Jesus shared the bread and cup with His disciples and gave the command to love one another. Even though we will not meet for a Maundy Thursday service this year, I encourage you to spend time reading and reflecting on The Passion scriptures.
 
On Good Friday, we pause at the cross, reflecting on Christ’s great sacrifice and the depth of God’s love poured out for humanity. The music for this service is intentionally solemn, mournful and deeply prayerful. We are invited to stand at the foot of the cross and reflect on Christ’s ultimate display of love. Through hymns, meditative anthems, and moments of silence, the music helps us enter the sorrow and sacred mystery of the day. It does not rush toward resolution but lingers in the weight of love poured out for us, allowing our hearts to fully feel the depth of the cross before the joy of Easter dawns.
 
Then comes the joy of Easter morning! On Easter Sunday, we celebrate the resurrection of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. The tomb is empty. Death is defeated. Hope is alive! This is a day when music seems to burst forth with resurrection joy! Trumpets sound, voices rise, and we sing the great hymns of the faith proclaiming that Christ is risen indeed. The message of Easter is not just spoken, it is sung with conviction and hope. The same power that raised Christ from the dead brings light into our darkness, peace into our worry, and strength into our weakness.
 
One of the many joys of my ministry at Northbrook is witnessing the profound devotion and energy each musician brings to our worship. Whether they are lifelong members or guests joining for the Easter season, their talent is matched only by their love for the One we celebrate. As always, it is my prayer that as you join us in song, you will find peace, encouragement, discernment, and renewed joy throughout this holy season.
 
Grace and peace,  
Dr. Chad Hunt
Director of Worship & Music

During this Lenten season, I have found myself reflecting on the idea of beginning again. Lent invites us into a rhythm of consistency, returning to prayer, reflection, and repentance day after day. Faith may be born in a single dramatic moment, but a faith that is unwavering in the hardest of times requires something extraordinary. More often than not, it is formed through the quiet and faithful decision to come back to God again and again, trusting that His grace meets us each time we return.
 
That rhythm of returning has caused me to reflect on the journey that brought me here. I grew up in a family that carried the weight of poverty, addiction, and brokenness. Those realities leave marks on a person, and for a long time I carried many of those burdens with me. Looking back now, I can see how easily my life could have followed the same paths that shaped the generations before me. Yet through God’s provision and the people He placed in my life, those patterns did not have the final word. Over time, the Lord began the slow and faithful work of breaking cycles and making a new path forward. What once felt like generational curses slowly became opportunities for healing and redemption.

Along that journey there were seasons when the road felt especially dark. There were moments when my daughter was on the brink of death, times when fear and uncertainty felt almost unbearable. In those moments, God’s presence sometimes felt like a small candle in a dark, dark room. The light did not always remove the darkness immediately, but it reminded me that I was not alone. That small flame was enough to point me toward hope and to remind me of God’s steadfast presence, even when the path ahead was difficult to see.
 
Experiences like these are why the message of Lent feels so meaningful to me. Lent reminds us that faith is not about having everything perfectly figured out. Instead, it is about continually returning to the One who is already reaching toward us. Recently Rev. Jennie said something that has stayed with me: “God has already done all the heavy lifting.” Those words capture the heart of the Gospel. The grace, mercy, love, and peace we long for are not things we must earn. They are gifts already given through Christ.
 
Because of that truth, no matter where you find yourself today or what circumstances surround you, the invitation remains the same. We are always invited to begin again. God’s grace meets us right where we are, and His faithfulness carries us further than we could ever go on our own.
 
It is my prayer that during this Lenten journey you would experience that truth deeply, and that the God who has been faithful before will continue to walk with you now.
 
Grace and peace,  
Chance Passmore
Modern Worship Leader