Seeing the Unseen: A Message from St. Paul’s Church in Cedar Falls
This morning, April 12, 2026, I had the opportunity to return to St. Paul’s Church in Cedar Falls and share a message that’s been on my heart for a while—one that hits closer to home than most of us might like to admit.
After the service, I heard something I’ve come to deeply appreciate:
“I needed to hear that.”
“Thanks for challenging me this morning.”
Those moments matter. Not because of me—but because they remind me that God is speaking to people right where they are.
And this message was about exactly that.
The Reality Most People Don’t Say Out Loud
I opened the message by sharing something personal.
Growing up, I struggled to feel like I fit in. I wasn’t always the one people chose first. I often felt overlooked, like I was just… there.
And if I’m honest—that feeling didn’t magically disappear in adulthood.
That kind of experience shapes you.
It leads to questions like:
- Am I enough?
- Do I matter?
- Would anyone notice if I wasn’t here?
And here’s the truth:
Most people carry some version of that.
They walk into rooms—churches included—and feel invisible.
They smile.
They shake hands.
They say, “I’m good.”
But inside?
They feel unseen.
What Jesus Says About the “Unseen”
In the message at St. Paul’s Church in Cedar Falls, we looked at one of Jesus’ parables in Luke 15—the story of the lost coin.
A woman loses one coin out of ten.
She still has nine.
But she doesn’t ignore it.
She searches.
Carefully. Intentionally. Relentlessly.
Why?
Because the value of the coin never changed—even when it was lost.
That’s the heart of God.
Not indifference—but pursuit.
And what makes this parable powerful is this:
The coin didn’t wander.
It didn’t rebel.
It was just… lost.
Quietly.
Unnoticed.
Out of sight.
And Jesus is making something incredibly clear:
Some people are lost loudly…
And some people are lost quietly…
But both matter equally to God.
The Question We Don’t Want to Ask
This is where the message turned.
Because it’s easy to hear a story like that and think about ourselves.
But the real question is:
Who are you not seeing?
Even in a smaller church like St. Paul’s, it’s possible to “know” people without really knowing them.
To see them… without seeing them.
To talk… without connecting.
There are people sitting in our churches, workplaces, and communities who feel like:
- the extra
- the outsider
- the one no one would notice
And often, we’re not ignoring them on purpose.
But we’re still missing them.
The Call: Don’t Wait—Pursue
The woman in the parable didn’t wait for the coin to show back up.
She went looking.
That’s the model.
Not passive awareness—active pursuit.
So I challenged the church with something simple, but not easy:
- Learn someone’s name
- Ask real questions
- Sit with someone who’s alone
- Invite them into conversation
Go beyond surface-level.
Because people don’t just need to be acknowledged.
They need to feel seen.
What Could Change If We Lived This Out?
Imagine what would happen if we actually lived this way.
If the person who almost didn’t show up… was truly seen.
If the quiet ones were pursued.
If the overlooked felt included.
Not because they suddenly became valuable—
But because we finally treated them like they already were.
Because that’s how heaven responds.
When one person is found…
Heaven celebrates.
A Personal Reflection
One of the things I love about speaking at churches like St. Paul’s Church in Cedar Falls is the opportunity to not just share a message—but to see how it lands.
The conversations after.
The quiet nods.
The simple statements like, “I needed that.”
That tells me something important:
People aren’t just looking for good messages.
They’re looking to be seen.
And maybe that’s the real takeaway from Sunday:
Not just that God sees us…
But that He’s calling us to see others the same way.
Final Thought
If you’ve ever felt unseen, overlooked, or like you didn’t quite belong—
You’re not alone.
And your value hasn’t changed.
And if you’re in a place where you can see others…
Don’t wait.
Go look.
Because someone around you is quietly hoping to be found.

