Not the actual place, of course. I've been spending time in the book of Daniel as I've prepared for our sermon series, Against the Flow: Faithful in Babylon.

And I have to tell you, the more time I spend in this book, the more I think it's exactly what we need right now.

There's a lot happening in our world that can leave us feeling unsettled. Trade tensions with the United States and tariffs that threaten Canadian jobs and businesses. The rising cost of groceries and housing, leaving families here in Winnipeg wondering how they're going to make ends meet. The growing number of people living on our streets. Wars overseas that, for some in our church family, aren't just distant headlines but involve people they know and love.

And I wonder how many of us quietly ask ourselves, What kind of world are our children and grandchildren going to inherit?

I've been asking some of those questions myself.

As Christians, how are we supposed to live in a world that seems to be changing so quickly? Do we push back? Pull away? Try to fit in? How do we stay faithful to Jesus without becoming angry, fearful, or cynical?

That's one reason I've been enjoying our journey through Daniel.

Here's something that has surprised me.

When I think about Daniel, I usually think about the dramatic moments. The fiery furnace. The lions' den. The miraculous rescues.

But so much of Daniel's faithfulness happened in ordinary, unspectacular ways. He learned the language of Babylon. He studied in its schools. He served in its government. He lived among people who didn't share his faith.

And somehow, through it all, he remained faithful to God.

I've been thinking about what that might look like for us here in Winnipeg.

What does it mean to be faithful in our workplaces, our schools, our neighbourhoods, and our families? What does it look like to love our neighbours—even when we disagree with them? How do we live differently without withdrawing from the people Jesus has called us to love?

I don't think those are always easy questions to answer.

Something else has stayed with me from last Sunday's message.

In Daniel 7, God gives Daniel an incredible vision. Daniel sees that the powerful kingdoms of this world won't last forever. God's kingdom will.

You'd think that would settle everything for him.

But it doesn't.

At the end of the chapter, Daniel says he was deeply troubled. Even with the assurance that God's kingdom would prevail, he was still shaken by what he'd seen.

I appreciate that honesty.

Sometimes we know all the right things about God, and we're still worried. We believe God is sovereign, but we're still concerned about our children. We trust his promises, but we're still troubled by the news.

Apparently, Daniel knew something about that tension too.

And perhaps faithfulness isn't about never feeling afraid. Perhaps it's about learning to trust God in the middle of our fears.

That's something I'm learning, and I suspect I'll be learning it for a long time.

One more thing before I go.

I've decided to start writing to you each week. I'm calling these letters Dear Cornerstone.

Sometimes I'll share something from Sunday's sermon that we didn't have time to explore. Sometimes it might be a question I've been wrestling with, something I've read, or something happening in our community that's been on my mind.

I don't want this to be another sermon. Think of it more as a chance for us to continue the conversation between Sundays.

And I'd love to hear from you too. What's been on your mind? What questions are you wrestling with as you follow Jesus? Feel free to reply. I may not have all the answers, but I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Next week, I want to share some reflections on one of the most remarkable statements in Daniel. Three young men facing a fiery furnace declare that God is able to rescue them. But then they add five words that change everything:

"But even if he does not…"

I've been thinking about those words quite a bit. What does faith look like when God doesn't do what we're hoping he'll do?

More on that next week.

Until then, may God help us to be faithful right where he has placed us.

Grace and peace,

PJ

P.S. If you found this letter encouraging, I'd love for you to subscribe so that next week's letter arrives in your inbox. And feel free to share it with someone who might need a little encouragement too.