Hiding is heavier than confessing — and this Sunday is the perfect Sunday to show up
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Happy Thursday, Reader This Sunday is Mother’s Day. And if there is ever a Sunday to be in the room together, this is it. Not on a screen. Not catching the replay later. In the room. Bring your mom. Bring your wife. Bring the woman who showed up for you when she didn’t have to. Bring the one who has been carrying something she has never said out loud. Because this Sunday’s message was made for exactly that. Last Sunday we went to the room. Not metaphorically. The specific room in your life you stopped walking into, not because it disappeared, but because what happened there did not. David had one. He locked his door for twelve months. He kept leading. Kept preaching. Kept performing. And nobody knew the room was still there. Until Nathan walked in. This Sunday’s Message: Hiding Is Heavier Than ConfessingThe Big Idea this week: God can cleanse what you cannot undo.
Here is what the text gave us: You are not in prison for what you did. You are in prison for what you never said.
David led with mercy, not explanation. No credentials. Just need. (Psalm 51:1–4) The hiding did not protect you. It just changed what you are hiding from. You are already living with consequences. The only question is which ones. The ones that come after confession, which God walks through with you. Or the ones from hiding, which you carry alone. God does not need your perfection. He needs your honesty. Nathan didn’t make David wait. The confession was the turning point. Five words. Four words back: the Lord has forgiven you. (2 Samuel 12:13) The thing you are most ashamed of is the exact thing mercy was designed for. 1 John 1:9 does not grade sin by severity. Romans 8:1 is a legal verdict, not a feeling. Isaiah 1:18 says come now. Present tense. Door already open. Confession is not the end of something. It is the beginning of everything. David didn’t confess once and move on. He wrote a song about it. He built a practice out of it. God does not renovate from the outside in. He starts in the room you locked. This week’s practice: Practice Psalm 51 as a daily prayer for seven days. Ten minutes. Morning. Pause on the verse that names what you are carrying. Let that verse be your prayer.
Mother’s Day Sunday is May 10, 2026 at 10:30 AMIf you have been watching from home, this is the Sunday to come back. If you have someone in your life who needs to hear a word about mercy and second chances. Bring them. If your mom is carrying something she has never named, bring her to a room where that is exactly what we are talking about. Mothers carry more than most people ever see. This Sunday we honor that and we give everyone in the room a word they can actually walk out with. 🚘 Pull up in person:📍7941 47th St., McCook, IL.| [May 10, 2026] | 10:30 AM 📲 Log on from anywhere:📺 Watch on YouTube | Watch on Facebook
Going deeper on Substack this week.The full article on what locked rooms cost and what confession actually opens: You Still Have the Right to Vote My Prayer RequestThis week, we’re praying for Mars Hill as a hybrid church, with people in our seats and people watching from screens. Both need the same thing: someone praying that the wrong place stops being comfortable and the right place starts feeling like home. Pray with us. GivingIf this message moved you, consider making your giving recurring. One decision. Consistent impact. Every week, someone’s locked room gets light because of what you do. Give SecurelySupport the mission securely at marshillchicago.org/giving, in our mobile app, or by texting MHGIVE to 33777. You can also mail checks to: Mars Hill Baptist Church
With love and expectation, Pastor Clarence E. Stowers, Jr. P.S. This week:
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