I’m CSPC member Liza Hutchison. Here’s how I’m living deeply. 

“For most of my life, I believed that serving God meant saying yes to everything. If there was a need, I was the first to sign up. If there was a problem, I volunteered to fix it. I was a doer- still am. But for a long time, ‘doing’ was part of my identity. I genuinely believed that if I wasn’t serving ‘the least of these’ in some big, visible way, then I wasn’t really doing Kingdom work or living the life God had called me to. So I said yes. A lot. To almost everything. Today, my list of volunteer roles feels relatively small. So when I was asked to share my story of living deeply, I was caught off guard. ‘Why me?’ I wondered. I couldn’t point to any one thing -certainly not one big thing- that I’m doing right now that felt worthy of highlighting. But then God gently reminded me of something important: slowing down IS the fruit of my living deeply journey. Doing does not equal being a good Christian. And honestly, not being able to name one big, impressive thing may be the most relatable part of my story. When I think about living deeply, I think of the word ‘sanctification.’ It’s a church word that I didn’t even know, or at least understand, until about five years ago. Sanctification is the process of a believer being transformed into the likeness of Jesus through the work of the Holy Spirit over time. We’re never fully transformed on this side of heaven, but as Christians, we are called to continually grow in our relationship with God. The more we know Him, the more we love Him, the more we desire to be like Him. Sure, I could list dozens of pivotal moments in my life that turned me toward Jesus- some small, some shaped by true crises. But for me, learning to live deeply hasn’t been a single sudden or dramatic event. It has been a long, slow journey. As my friend Kim puts it, my five-gallon spiritual bucket has been filled with a slow -and I mean S…L…O…W- drip over a very long period of time. God has gently taught me that the depth I’ve been longing for doesn’t come from striving to do more for Him, but from learning how to rest and be with Him.

Learning how to be with God didn’t happen in isolation. In fact, I believe that the people we choose to surround ourselves with are a big part of our stories and can draw us closer to God. I had been blessed with many friends, and didn’t take that for granted. Yet I was still seeking deeper relationships. God answered my prayers to be surrounded by deeply faithful women with more than I could ask or imagine. During Covid, I was invited to join a Becoming Like Christ (BLC) discipleship group: a three-year commitment to studying Scripture and growing in faith. I had no idea how greatly God would use it. What I assumed would simply be a group of 10 faithful women who would become friends turned into God meeting me in one of those pivotal seasons of my life. When a family crisis hit, those women became God’s hands and feet. There came a point when I could no longer carry the weight of everyday life on my own- emotionally or physically. I was depleted, and the constant ‘doing’ came to a hard stop. The responsibilities of being a wife and a mom felt overwhelming, and I simply didn’t have the capacity to hold it all together. It was in that space that God surrounded me with women who stepped in- not to fix things, but to bear the burden with me. They prayed for me and with me. And their steady presence reminded me that I was never meant to do this alone. As you may know from your own hard seasons, that’s where the Holy Spirit often does the greatest works. When we reach the end of ourselves -out of answers, out of energy, and stripped of self-reliance- we finally look up. For me, that place of desperation led to prayer and Scripture. And Scripture led me somewhere I didn’t expect: into stillness. One Scripture that always spoke to me was ‘Be Still and know that I am God.’ I desired that rest, that stillness, but I didn’t know how to achieve it. Stillness has never come easily to me. I still have to resist the urge to do, to fix. But, like Sabbath, it’s a practice- one that doesn’t come naturally to someone who spent her whole life doing the opposite. But as I stayed in God’s Word, I began to sense Him gently undoing my patterns.

I grew up in church, but if I’m honest, I didn’t really know the Bible. I knew the big ideas, the general themes- but I hadn’t actually studied Scripture. During my time with BLC, I gained confidence and practical tools for studying Scripture, and when BLC ended, I didn’t want it to stop. I signed up to read the Bible in a year with The Bible Project, and around that same time I found the Grace and Truth summer Bible study at CSPC. The very first morning I walked in, the chapel was overflowing- women standing along the walls and sitting on the floor. I was struck by how hungry the women were for God’s Word. It energized me and confirmed a deep desire to keep studying Scripture alongside a community longing for the same thing; and I’m still attending. There’s a prayer Steph Schneider often prays at Grace and Truth: that we would see God more clearly, love Him more dearly, and follow Him more nearly. Studying Scripture closely has done exactly that for me. Somewhere along the way, I stopped reading the Bible to figure out what I was supposed to do and started reading it to know who God is- His faithfulness, His nearness, His compassion. And that changed everything. As I came to know Him better, my understanding of faithfulness shifted. God showed me that I was still serving Him, even in the middle of that valley. Caring for my family -when it felt like that was all I had to give- wasn’t a pause or a detour. It WAS the calling for that season. The people under my roof were my mission field, and that work was no less sacred than anything visible or public. Faithfulness didn’t mean doing more. It meant being present right where God had placed me- pointing my family to His truth and goodness and faithfulness, even when things were hard. In some of my darkest days, I was sustained by grace alone. And, I learned that God cares far more about our hearts than our output. His love isn’t earned. And resting in that truth changed everything.

 After 18 years at another local church -eight of those on staff in Outreach (surprising, right?)- we joined CSPC. During the new member class in 2024, I learned about the special needs ministry. By that point, life had slowed down enough that I finally had the capacity to serve outside my home again. I felt rested and open to wherever God might be leading. I’ve always had a heart for people with special needs. And when my niece was diagnosed with autism, as I saw some of the challenges she faced, that passion in my heart only grew stronger. After praying, I reached out to [Director of Special Needs Ministry] Mary Kendall Akers and simply said, ‘Put me where you need me.’ (The ministry serves from pre-school to adults.) I started serving as a buddy in elementary Sunday school- basically attending alongside a child with special needs and helping them participate as fully as they’re able. It’s a simple role, but it serves a great purpose. The kids get to learn about Jesus and feel included, and their parents can worship or attend class on their own. And that doesn’t touch the joy that it has brought to me. Over time, I’ve served with kids who have different needs -sensory processing challenges, Down syndrome, autism- and it’s been such a gift to watch the other children embrace them, encourage them, want to get to know them better. It’s precious to see God working in the hearts of young children who have love and compassion for the needs of their friends who are different. My own children are now 20 and 16, and while I’ve loved every season of motherhood, there’s a quiet ache that comes as they need me less. So, spending time with children is balm for my soul. One Sunday, my buddy Johnny, who was very clear that he wanted to be independent, sat by himself. I noticed him glancing my way a few times and finally asked if he wanted me to play with him. He shrugged, dropped his guard just a bit, and said, “If you WANT to.” I could tell what he really meant was ‘yes.’ My heart was full; overflowing, in fact. Ultimately, God keeps filling my bucket. And the overflow shows up in small, ordinary moments of faithfulness, lived deeply with Him.”