PASTOR MATTHEW'S STORY

From Streams to Streets: A Bay Area Story of Grace

I grew up in the Bay—freeways and fruit stands, fog and sunshine, old roots and new dreams. Contra Costa County isn’t just where I live; it’s where my heart learned to hope. I’ve watched families thrive and struggle, neighbors agree and disagree, people build and people burn out. And somewhere along the way I realized: the Bay doesn’t need another pitch. It needs water. Living water.

The story I’m telling is not about my résumé. It’s about grace—unearned, surprising, and stubbornly good. It found me, and I want it to find you.

The Dawn That Undid Me

Years ago, before sunrise on a dusty road in Ethiopia, I fell in step with a stream of worshipers. Little white candles. Ancient songs. Nothing fancy, everything full. Many were poor by any modern measure—and yet their joy was not on backorder. It was awake.

As their voices rose, a beatitude rose with them: “Blessed are the poor in spirit…” I saw it: contentment that wasn’t denial, hope that wasn’t naïveté, peace that wasn’t purchased. Their lives didn’t shrink God; God stretched their lives. That morning dismantled my neat equations about success, worth, and security. I left that road convinced of one thing: abundance is not about having more; it’s about being rooted deeper.

The Stream I Stepped Into

Back home in the Bay, Psalm 1 would not let me go: “like a tree planted by streams of water… that bears fruit in season.” That’s the image that keeps shaping me—planted people who don’t whither under drought or drown in downpours; people who carry shade and fruit into boardrooms and break rooms, kitchens and classrooms, barbershops and startup garages.

My life since has been a long apprenticeship in learning how that kind of rootedness grows—
in churches and nonprofits, in schools and neighborhoods, in hospital corridors and coffee lines, in staff meetings and street corners. I’ve served and learned alongside youth and elders, artists and engineers, teachers and tech founders, the churched and the skeptical. I’ve helped build ministries, launch groups, start choirs, lead teams, and weave partnerships with schools, clinics, and community orgs. I’ve also spent years in the marketplace—strategic business development and marketing—where I learned budgets, brand clarity, and the quiet courage of showing up again tomorrow.

Some of my service happens on boards and councils (Young Life, Cate School’s Alumni Council, a church-planting work in Nogales, Mexico). All of it—every meeting, late night, early morning—sits under the same sentence: grace changes people, and changed people change places.

What I Actually Believe

I believe God is not an accessory to life; He’s the source of life.
I believe the Gospel isn’t self-help with a choir; it’s a rescue and a rebirth.
I believe Jesus doesn’t just offer forgiveness; He offers a new root system—one that can hold in drought and storm.

I believe the Bay Area, with all its brilliance and bruises, is thirsty for the real thing—truth with tenderness, conviction with compassion, a community that can disagree without disowning one another. If that sounds idealistic, it is—because grace is. And I’ve seen it work.

What “Overflow” Means (And Doesn’t)

Overflow is not hype; it’s a habit. It’s Scripture opened, not weaponized.
It’s tables set, not gates raised.
It’s kids learning they are seen. Teens discovering they’re more than their feed.
Adults finding companionship in the ordinary and courage in the crisis.
It’s everyday people rooted by the stream—bearing fruit in season—not all at once, not all the same, but all by grace.

Practically, it looks like this:

Gathered Worship that is beautiful and intelligible—space for skeptics, seekers, and saints to breathe the same air.
Midweek Groups that practice the way of Jesus in living rooms and libraries—where prayer is honest, questions welcomed, and meals shared.
Neighbor Love that isn’t performative: partnership with schools, nonprofits, and clinics; benevolence that restores dignity; mentorship that shows up.
Formation for All Ages—because the Bay’s next 50 years are already sitting at our dinner tables.

This isn’t a church built on personalities. It’s a long obedience in the same direction, rooted by the stream.

For Gen Z, Millennials, Families—and the Rest of Us

If you’re Gen Z, you’re allergic to spin and hungry for real. Same.
If you’re a millennial juggling kids, costs, and constant notifications, you don’t need more guilt; you need a stronger root.
If you’re raising a family from any walk of life or political lane, you’re welcome here. We’re not building echo chambers; we’re building a community where the Gospel rehumanizes us before it ever reorganizes us.

Not religious? Unsure about God? You can still belong before you believe. Come with your doubts, your data, your story. Bring your questions. Bring your whole self.

Why Contra Costa, Why Now

Because this is home. Because the Bay’s beauty hides a burnout that can’t be fixed by the next app or the next outrage. Because the future our kids deserve requires more than cleverness; it needs character formed by grace. And because I believe, as Keller often said, that the Gospel is not the ABCs of Christianity—it’s the A to Z. It’s how people change. It’s how cities heal.

What I’m Asking

Not for blind trust, but for shared pilgrimage:

Pray—even if your prayer is “God, if You’re real, meet me by the stream.”
Participate—taste and see; try a Sunday, sit in a living room, serve a neighbor.
Partner—if you can, give so we can start strong and stay healthy: kids and student spaces, counseling and care, steady leadership development, and simple, beautiful worship.

I’m planting Overflow because grace found me—and it keeps finding me—in the Bay I love. If you’re thirsty, you’re not alone. Come to the water. Let’s plant our lives by the stream and watch this place bear fruit, in season, together.