Red Letter family and friends—

I wanted to share a fuller update on where we are, what doors God has opened recently, and how our sense of calling continues to expand rather than narrow.

This season has been one of letting God remold us. I do believe it has been one of the most spiritually edifying and challenging seasons. Yet, it has provided rest I didnt realize I needed.

Just this past week, we’ve had meaningful conversations with several churches in very different contexts—each one revealing something important about both God’s work in the church and the burden He has placed on our hearts.

Chicagoland (Illinois)
One interview was with a church in the Chicagoland area that is especially promising. This is a congregation intentionally pursuing a multi-ethnic vision, doing the hard and faithful work of change rather than talking about it. They are embracing contemporary worship, upgrading sound and lighting, and preparing to remove pews in favor of chairs to create a flexible, multi-purpose sanctuary that can serve both worship and community engagement.

What stood out most was not the aesthetics, but the posture: humility, courage, and a willingness to adapt for the sake of reaching people who are not yet being reached.

Virginia Beach (Virginia)
Another conversation was with a more traditional Baptist church in Virginia Beach—one that would allow us to rejoin our friends for that fellowship we so deeply miss: the redletter campfire, at least once a month anyway (we will bring the lemonade). This church carries immense historical weight as the oldest Baptist church in the state, and with that comes both beauty and responsibility.

There was something grounding about this conversation—roots, legacy, and faithfulness across generations. It reminded us that innovation and tradition don’t have to be enemies; when held rightly, they can serve one another.

Ohio (Two Very Different Conversations)
In Ohio, we spoke with two churches representing very different models.

One is a large Presbyterian church exploring a director-level role overseeing care and counseling. The pastor’s vision deeply resonated with us: a church that becomes the first place people turn when they are struggling emotionally, mentally, or spiritually—not the last. The emphasis on shepherding, presence, and spiritual care was compelling. The tradeoff, however, would be preaching only a handful of times each year. I’m in prayer about this as we speak. Follow-up interview on 2/4 - please be praying.

The second Ohio church reflects much of what Red Letter longs for—but five years down the road. They are doing many good things and have real potential, but with only about 30 members, the role would almost certainly need to be bi-vocational. That’s not something to look down on—but it does shape what’s possible in the present season.

Each of these conversations has been a gift. None feels accidental. God is revealing, guiding, and working on me in each one of them.

At the same time, church planting remains a real possibility—but not a settled conclusion.

We have completed all of the pre-conference requirements for NAMB and the SBCV, which places the next discernment point at the Send Network Conference in April. That gathering is not a green light, but a conversation—one that would help clarify whether Red Letter moves forward as a formal church plant, and if so, where and how.

It’s important to be honest about what that path would likely require. If a planting door were to open, it would involve relocation back to VA and a season of financial dependence. Based on conversations with other planters, the support typically provided by NAMB would likely cover only 50–60% of the actual need. That reality often means a bi-vocational season, along with seeking individuals and churches willing to partner with us financially as missionaries in the work.

We are praying carefully about all of this—provision, partners, sustainability, and timing—while also holding it loosely. I’ve learned and am learning to realize the plans, dreams, and desires I have - are often the very thing God uses to reveal a much bigger plan, something better, but it often requires letting go of what I have imagined so we can begin to see His better vision. Red Letter is forming, but it may be different from what we realize.

Here’s what has become increasingly clear to me:

At every church I’ve served, there has been a deep hunger for real discipleship—not just attendance, but formation. And yet, as families move (as we have), many struggle to find a biblical church nearby that meets that need.

That question keeps surfacing in my prayers:
What if the church didn’t have to be bound by walls or proximity?

During COVID, when everything shut down, the church didn’t disappear—it expanded. During that season, my sermons were reaching over 30 states and 14 countries. People who would never have walked into a building were being discipled through screens, Scripture, and shared prayer.

Just this week, someone who visited church with me for only one Sunday—before moving away—reached out and asked if I would disciple him. We live in different states, different time zones, but the desire and need is the same - deep digital discipleship.

That moment crystallized something for me.

What if Red Letter could function like the COVID church—but intentionally, faithfully, and deeply?

Maybe Red Letter becomes a church plant in Virginia.
Maybe it becomes something much, much bigger.
Maybe it becomes both.

What I know is this: we don’t want to put God—or Red Letter—in a box.

To support that vision, my website will soon serve as a central Red Letter hub, housing:

Donation pages are already live—not as pressure, but as a way for those who believe in this vision to help sustain and grow the work God may be doing through it.

Thank you for walking with us, praying for us, and believing that the church is more than a building—it’s a people shaped by the living Word of Christ.

For His Glory,
Pastor Dillon