​7 I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. 8 Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day—and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing.

Today, we gather in love, memory, and gratitude as we reflect on the lives of two remarkable women of faith, Jeanne Tucker and Rona Windsor. Both left deep footprints of faith, service, and love, not only in their families but also in their churches, communities, and beyond.

Though they have gone to be with the Lord, their lives remind us of what it means to live as Paul describes: to fight the good fight, to finish the race, and to keep the faith.

Many of us here at New Hope Free Methodist Church have fond memories of Jeanne. Though she had not attended our church for several years, she was very much a part of this family. She gave herself tirelessly, always with joy.

Jeanne was a key leader in fundraising for Londa’s House in Malawi, a ministry close to her heart. She even traveled to Africa to see the fruits of that labor, a testimony of her hands-on faith. Jeanne and her late husband, Rev. Craig Tucker (1947–1999), served God faithfully as pastors in Gravenhurst and Huntsville, and later as missionaries in Malawi. It was in that place of service that Craig went home to be with the Lord.

Her service, her laughter, her fun-loving spirit, and her love for the Lord made Jeanne a joy to share ministry with. Gary and Jeanne had the privilege of sharing the pulpit with New Hope during a pastoral transition. Her sense of humor, her heart for people, and her faith in Christ shone brightly. She will be missed deeply by her family, by our church family, and by countless friends.

We also pause to give thanks for the life of Rona Windsor, who went to be with the Lord after celebrating her 89th birthday on August 7. Rona was known for her warmth, love, and generosity.

Her children and grandchildren remember her as a caregiver to all, family, friends, and neighbors alike. In her days in Etobicoke, if someone needed help, Rona was there, with a gift, a meal, or simply her presence. She had that million-dollar smile and a laugh that was contagious.

She was the best storyteller; the kind of person people gravitated towards because she radiated joy. Even through illness, she didn’t complain but kept a brave face for those she loved. Her daughter describes her as a cheerleader, protector, and best friend. She was a loving grandmother and great-grandmother, and the bond she shared with little Kaezyn was especially full of love.

Today, her family carries the grief of losing their biggest cheerleader, but also the gratitude of having had a mother and grandmother who embodied Christ’s love so tangibly.

Jeanne and Rona both loved deeply, served faithfully, and lifted others with joy and humor. They were pillars of support, encouragers, and caregivers in their own unique ways. Both were supporters of Severn Bridge Camp and of ministries that extended God’s kingdom here and abroad.

What unites their lives is not only what they did but who they followed, their Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. They lived out His command to love God and love neighbor.

Scripture assures us that “precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his faithful servants” (Psalm 116:15). We grieve, but not as those without hope. Jeanne and Rona are now in the presence of Christ, welcomed with the words: “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

For us who remain, their lives call us to carry forward their legacy of serving with joy, loving with sincerity, and giving ourselves fully to God’s work.

As Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 15:58: “Therefore, my dear brothers and sisters, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain.”

Today, we thank God for Jeanne and Rona. We pray comfort for the Tucker family and the Windsor family, asking that God surround them with His peace and strength. And we ask that the Lord inspire us through their examples to live lives of faith, love, and service.

Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.

John Wesley was once asked why he worked so tirelessly, preaching multiple times a day, traveling thousands of miles on horseback, often in harsh conditions. His reply was simple: “The world is my parish.”

For Wesley, mission wasn’t reserved for pulpits or Sunday mornings. Mission was found in the everyday, on the road, in the minefields of Kingswood, in the conversations with ordinary people. His work flowed from a conviction that every act, great or small, was service to Christ. That conviction echoes Colossians 3:23–24, where Paul calls us to see life itself as mission.

Paul writes: “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.”

“Whatever you do” (πᾶν ὃ ἐὰν ποιῆτε / pan ho ean poiēte) Comprehensive. It doesn’t limit the mission to preaching, worship, or “holy tasks.” It embraces daily labor, domestic work, economic effort, and ordinary relationships. 
“Work at it with all your heart” (ἐκ ψυχῆς / ek psychēs) Literally: “from the soul.” Not half-hearted or mechanical, but with the whole inner self. Mission is soul-deep.
“As working for the Lord, not for human masters.” Radical in context: Paul wrote to a community where many were household servants or slaves in Colossae. They were tempted to see their work as meaningless. Paul reorients them: Every act, even in unjust conditions, is dignified because it is ultimately done for Christ.
“You will receive an inheritance” (κληρονομίαν / klēronomian). Striking. Slaves in the Greco-Roman world could not legally inherit property. Yet Paul says their faithfulness brings an eternal inheritance from God. The kingdom overturns social structures.

Colossians is a “household letter.” Paul addresses wives, husbands, children, servants, masters, and the fabric of everyday life. The point is clear: discipleship is not removed from daily tasks; it transforms them.
 
Here’s the shock: Mission is not only “out there”, but mission is also here, in the everyday. When you sweep the floor.

When you write an email. 
When you comfort a child.
When you care for the elderly.

In Christ, the ordinary becomes extraordinary.
 
Paul’s words are urgent: “with all your heart.” Not half-hearted, not distracted. Charles Wesley’s hymns carry that passion: “O for a thousand tongues to sing my great Redeemer’s praise.” Every line is bursting with zeal because he believed every word mattered to God. When you live and work with passion for Christ, people notice. Energy is contagious.

Mission in Everyday Life means three things: Presence – Be fully there in your neighborhood, workplace, and family. Excellence, do your tasks as worship to Christ. Witness, let your actions and words point others to Jesus.

Imagine if tomorrow every act you did, from cooking a meal to speaking with a coworker, was offered as if Christ Himself were watching.

The enemy wants us to believe the lie: “Only big things matter. Only dramatic ministries count. Your daily work doesn’t mean much.” That lie produces discouragement and makes us dismiss the holy power of the ordinary. But Christ redeems the ordinary. He is the hero of Colossians 3.

He turns daily bread into sacred service.
He turns hidden tasks into heavenly treasures.
He makes every act, from nursing a child to nursing the dying, part of His kingdom.

Mother Teresa embodied this. She said: “Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.” Her mission wasn’t in cathedrals but in Calcutta’s slums, in holding hands, bathing wounds, and restoring dignity. Her life testifies that mission is everywhere, every day.

Picture Wesley on horseback with a hymnal in hand. Picture Mother Teresa bending down to lift a dying man. Ordinary settings turned into altars of God’s mission.

“God is God every day, and our mission is to serve Him in everything.” Repeat it like a refrain. Let the congregation echo it back.

John Wesley made Kingswood, a broken mining community, a place where God lived. Mother Teresa made Calcutta’s slums places where Christ’s love was visible. Both lived Colossians 3:23–24: whatever you do, do it for the Lord. Their lives declare: God is God every day.

So tomorrow, when you pick up a broom, sit at your desk, care for a child, or serve a neighbor, remember: it is not wasted. It is worship. Mission isn’t somewhere else. Mission is here. Mission in everyday life. Mission in every place. Mission with all your heart. Because God is God every day.

After this the Lord appointed seventy-two[a] others and sent them two by two ahead of him to every town and place where he was about to go. 2 He told them, “The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field. 3 Go! I am sending you out like lambs among wolves. 4 Do not take a purse or bag or sandals; and do not greet anyone on the road. 5 “When you enter a house, first say, ‘Peace to this house.’ 6 If someone who promotes peace is there, your peace will rest on them; if not, it will return to you. 7 Stay there, eating and drinking whatever they give you, for the worker deserves his wages. Do not move around from house to house. 8 “When you enter a town and are welcomed, eat what is offered to you. 9 Heal the sick who are there and tell them, ‘The kingdom of God has come near to you.’ 10 But when you enter a town and are not welcomed, go into its streets and say, 11 ‘Even the dust of your town we wipe from our feet as a warning to you. Yet be sure of this: The kingdom of God has come near.’

Grace and peace to you all in the name of Jesus Christ. Today, we step into a powerful passage, Luke 10:1–11, a text that offers us more than a mission strategy. It is a window into the spiritual authority, urgency, and joy that characterize the life of those who are sent by Christ.
 
In 1729 at Oxford, John and, shortly after, Charles Wesley formed a prayer-and-study group known as the “Holy Club”. It began simply, with a few students committed to reading Scripture, praying diligently, fasting, and caring for the poor and imprisoned. Though initially mocked, “the Methodists” became a label of derision; their disciplined, Christ‑centered life didn’t stay hidden. Instead, it drew attention and later inspired a movement that transformed the church and society. This collaboration between the Wesley brothers embodies key spiritual truths. They began "two by two," mirroring Jesus’ sending of the seventy‑two. In mission, we’re not lone heroes, we are companions. Their habits of reading, prayer, fasting, and service were not just piety; they were kingdom rhythms that shaped everything. Though mocked, they persevered, and their disciplined witness birthed a revival that reformed individuals and nations.
 
The passage begins with an important detail: “The Lord appointed seventy-two others and sent them on ahead of him, two by two…” This is not a mission of superstars. Jesus does not send the elite; He sends ordinary disciples. This is the same Jesus who walked the dusty roads, who heals and forgives, who knows us by name, and He sends us. You and I are part of that same line. God has always worked with and through people, never out of necessity, but out of grace. And He never sends us alone. The “two by two” reminds us: We are companions on this journey, We are accountable to each other, We are supported by community.
 
Jesus looks at the world and sees it with the eyes of harvest. Where others see chaos, He sees opportunity. Where others see sin, He sees people in need of the Gospel. He doesn't tell them, “Go solve everything,” but “Pray to the Lord of the harvest.” This is spiritual work, a harvest that is gathered through prayer before action. In Wesleyan theology, we speak of prevenient grace, God at work before we arrive. Prayer aligns us not just with the task, but with the timing of God.
 
Jesus doesn't sugarcoat the mission: "I am sending you out like lambs among wolves." There’s no false promise of ease. Yet, paradoxically, the disciples carry peace, not swords. “Peace to this house.” We go not in fear, but in peace. We do not go to argue, but to bless. We do not go to dominate, but to witness. Our spiritual authority is not in coercion but in communion, offering the peace of Christ and trusting that where it is welcomed, the Kingdom draws near. If they accept you, stay. If they reject you, shake the dust off your feet. But either way, say this:
 
“The Kingdom of God has come near.” This is crucial: The Kingdom comes whether people respond the way we hope. We are not defined by results. We are called to faithfulness, not success.
 
This is a deeply spiritual perspective. The Kingdom is not a project; it is the in-breaking presence of God. While our passage today ends at verse 11, in verse 20, Jesus tells the disciples: “Do not rejoice that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.” That is the heart of it: The deepest joy is not what we do for God, but what He has done in us. Not the miracles, but the relationship. Not the power, but the belonging.
 
During my time serving as a pastor in Mexicanos City, San Salvador, I met a humble family that made a lasting impact on our church. They were very poor, a single household with at least five children, ranging in age from 2 to 11 years old. Every Sunday morning, without fail, those little ones would arrive for Bible School. Their clothes were worn, and their shoes were often mismatched or broken, but their faces glowed with joy and eagerness to hear the Word of God. One Sunday, after seeing them sit so attentively and leave quietly, one of the parents in our congregation said something that would change everything: “What if we don’t just teach them the Bible… what if we share a meal too?” That simple question became a holy invitation. Soon, every Sunday morning, before Bible School began, we started offering breakfast, not just to those children, but to anyone who came hungry from the surrounding community. And here’s the beautiful part: the idea didn’t come from abundance, but from compassion.

​Many of our own families had little to spare, but one by one, people began bringing a little rice, some beans, tortillas, and eggs. Somehow, there was always enough. This breakfast ministry lasted over two years, and it became a sacred time. What started as food became fellowship. People who had never spoken before, rich and poor, churched and unchurched, began to see each other as brothers and sisters. Brothers and sisters, this text invites us to reframe how we think about mission, ministry, and discipleship. You are sent ahead, wherever you live, work, or serve. You carry peace, not anxiety. You proclaim a Kingdom, not an opinion. You go with joy, because your name is known in heaven. Let us be that church, one that walks boldly into a world of wolves as lambs, because the Lamb of God walks with us. Amen.

20 At once he began to preach in the synagogues that Jesus is the Son of God. 21 All those who heard him were astonished and asked, “Isn’t he the man who raised havoc in Jerusalem among those who call on this name? And hasn’t he come here to take them as prisoners to the chief priests?” 22 Yet Saul grew more and more powerful and baffled the Jews living in Damascus by proving that Jesus is the Messiah. 23 After many days had gone by, there was a conspiracy among the Jews to kill him, 24 but Saul learned of their plan. Day and night they kept close watch on the city gates in order to kill him. 25 But his followers took him by night and lowered him in a basket through an opening in the wall. 26 When he came to Jerusalem, he tried to join the disciples, but they were all afraid of him, not believing that he really was a disciple. 27 But Barnabas took him and brought him to the apostles. He told them how Saul on his journey had seen the Lord and that the Lord had spoken to him, and how in Damascus he had preached fearlessly in the name of Jesus. 28 So Saul stayed with them and moved about freely in Jerusalem, speaking boldly in the name of the Lord. 29 He talked and debated with the Hellenistic Jews, but they tried to kill him. 30 When the believers learned of this, they took him down to Caesarea and sent him off to Tarsus. 31 Then the church throughout Judea, Galilee and Samaria enjoyed a time of peace and was strengthened. Living in the fear of the Lord and encouraged by the Holy Spirit, it increased in numbers.

Many of you know the story of Nicky Cruz, the gang leader in New York City who became a follower of Jesus through the ministry of David Wilkerson. Nicky had been feared on the streets. Violence was his language. Hate was his shield. But when Christ entered his life, everything changed. Here’s what amazes me: after his conversion, he didn’t run away from the streets that had been his battleground. He went right back, not to claim them for a gang, but to claim them for Christ. He walked into the toughest neighborhoods, spoke to the people who once feared him, and told them about Jesus. Some conversations were public and loud; others were quiet and personal. But in every setting, his very presence was a testimony: peace is possible, even here. And that’s exactly what we see in Acts 9.
 
Saul’s life is turned upside down on the road to Damascus. From persecutor to preacher, in a moment. And what does he do? Acts 9:20 tells us, “At once he began to preach in the synagogues that Jesus is the Son of God.” Not next month. Not after a few years of preparation. Right away, in the same cities where people feared his name. And here’s what I want you to see: God often calls us to begin right where we are.
 
You are not in your neighborhood by accident. That apartment, that street, that subdivision, it’s your frontline. God placed you there for a reason. Saul didn’t just pass through Damascus and Jerusalem. He stayed. He engaged. He built trust. And when others were afraid of him, Barnabas stepped in, practicing hospitality by opening doors and vouching for him. Presence. Hospitality. Boldness. Those three things can change a neighborhood.
 
Acts 9:31 paints the result: “Then the church… enjoyed a time of peace and was strengthened; living in the fear of the Lord and encouraged by the Holy Spirit, it increased in numbers.” Imagine your block: Peace. Strength. Growth. But peace isn’t automatic. Our communities often wrestle with loneliness, distrust, and division. People believe the lie that they’re too different to connect, or that faith belongs only inside church walls. That’s why we must live as carriers of the Gospel, the ultimate source of peace. We’re not the hero; Jesus is. But He invites us to be His messengers.
 
So, here’s the challenge for this week: host or attend one community gathering.
 

• Invite a neighbor for coffee.
• Show up at a local event or market.
• Join a park clean-up or a neighborhood BBQ.

 
Don’t just be there, be present. Listen. Learn. Love. In the early days of the Methodist movement, John Wesley didn’t always preach in churches; in fact, many pulpits were closed to him. So, he went where the people were: marketplaces, mines, and neighborhoods. One of his most famous stops was Kingswood, a rough mining district outside Bristol. Poverty, crime, and hopelessness were everywhere. But Wesley believed the Gospel belonged there as much as in any cathedral.
 
He started holding open-air meetings, sometimes in the rain, preaching to miners as they came up from the pits, their faces black with coal dust. And something remarkable happened: not only were hearts converted, but the community itself began to change. Families reconciled. Taverns emptied. People formed small Methodist “societies” to pray, study Scripture, and care for one another. Years later, a miner told Wesley, “You did not just bring the Word of God to Kingswood; you made Kingswood a place where God lives.” That’s Acts 9 in action. That’s what it means to seek the peace of the city.
 
Friend, you are not where you are by accident. God has placed you exactly where you are in your neighborhood, on your street, as His ambassador of peace. So, go. Show up. Love well. Speak truth. And watch what God will do when you seek the peace of your city.
 

It was just another Monday morning when Lisa, a school nurse in her small Ontario town, found herself sitting in her car longer than usual. She was parked outside the elementary school, watching the drizzle streak across her windshield. Something in her spirit was unsettled, not dramatic, just… restless. The week before, one of the kids, a quiet boy named Marco, had come into her office four times, not for any serious injury, but with stomach aches, headaches, and questions about nothing. Lisa had the sense that it wasn’t his body that hurt; it was his heart. But she didn’t know what to do. She thought, “I’m not a therapist. I’m not a pastor. I just hand out Band-Aids and Tylenol.”
 
And then Romans 12:2 came to her mind: "Do not conform to the pattern of this world but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will." She whispered a prayer: “Lord, show me what Your will is today. In this school. In this office. With these children.” That’s what we mean by Mission Livin’. You see, somewhere along the way, many of us came to believe that “mission” is something you do far away, with a plane ticket and a team T-shirt. But Jesus never said, “As the Father sent me, I am sending you… on a short-term trip.” He said, “I am sending you.” Period. Paul takes that calling further in Romans 12:2. He reminds us that the key to discerning God’s will is not working harder or waiting longer. It’s being transformed, from the inside out. And that transformation begins in the renewing of our minds.
 
But transformation without strategy is like having a destination without directions. That’s where a lesser-known verse from the Old Testament steps in: 1 Chronicles 12:32. In a list of tribes allying behind King David, we read about the men of Issachar. It says: "They understood the signs of the times and knew the best course for Israel to take." Did you catch that? They understood what was going on around them, and they knew what to do. They didn’t just have passion, they had discernment. They didn’t just pray—they planned. They weren’t swayed by panic or pressure. They read the moment and responded with wisdom.
 
We need that Issachar mindset today. We live in a time when our culture is saturated with information but starving for wisdom. We're busy but often aimless. Many Christians feel stuck, longing for a life of purpose, but unsure where to start. So let’s follow a biblical model:
 

1. Name your current state.
2. Where are you right now, spiritually, emotionally, relationally? What spaces do you already inhabit: your home, your job, your neighborhood? These are not interruptions. They are your mission fields.
3. Imagine the desired state.

What would it look like if God’s good, pleasing, and perfect will were fully present in those spaces? What would peace in your home look like? Or justice at your job? Or compassion in your neighborhood?

1. Build a strategy to get there.

That’s what transformation requires: not just emotion, but intention. Not just desire, but direction. Let me tell you about John Wesley, the founder of Methodism. He lived in a time of religious stagnation and deep social inequality. Many churches were comfortable, insulated, and irrelevant to the poor. But Wesley looked at the signs of the times, and he noticed the spiritual hunger in the streets and the despair in the working class. And he planned. He began preaching in the open air. He formed small groups, called class meetings, where people didn’t just study the Bible but asked each other, “How is it with your soul?” and “Whom have you helped this week?”
 
Wesley didn’t wait for revival to come to the cathedral. He brought the gospel to the coal mines. That wasn’t a whim; it was a strategy. A Spirit-breathed, scripture-soaked, time-tested strategy. He understood the signs of the times and knew what to do.
 
What about you? What if you took 15 minutes this week to create your own Mission Field Map? Just draw three columns:
 

• Where you go (home, work, grocery store, school)
• Who you see (family, coworkers, neighbors, strangers)
• What God might want to do there (healing, encouragement, witness)

 
That’s how you move from current state to desired future, with a mind renewed by Scripture and a heart open to the Spirit. That’s how Mission Livin’ becomes more than a sermon; it becomes your lifestyle.
 
Back to Lisa in the parking lot. That morning, she didn’t do anything heroic. She simply walked into school, stopped by Marco’s classroom, and asked the teacher if she could see him for a moment. When he came to her office, she didn’t offer a solution, just presence. “I don’t think you’re sick,” she said softly. “But I do think you might be sad. And that’s okay. I’m here for you. And I’ll keep being here.” He didn’t say much. But he smiled. And he came back the next day. That’s Mission Livin’. That’s what happens when a renewed mind meets a missional heart and a strategic spirit.