Struggling with Self-Injury or the Lie That No One Cares? Here’s Your Reminder That God Is Present in Your Pain

Struggling with Self-Injury or the Lie That No One Cares? Here’s Your Reminder That God Is Present in Your Pain

by

Trigger Warning: This is a personal story that contains self-harm content.

I left the steaming shower running and stepped out, wrapping myself in a waiting towel.

My long, wet hair dripped down my back and left water droplets on the floor where I stood. With the pounding water drowning out all noise, I sank to the floor, curled up on the bathmat, and let myself sob.

Why was I stuck with a brain that told me hurting myself was a good idea?
Why was it so hard not to listen?

For over a decade, I’d struggled with self-injury. What started as an impulsive, one-time choice at fifteen had spiraled into years of desperate decisions. I waded through high school and college and early adulthood trying to work my way into healing. I did everything I was supposed to do: I prayed, read my Bible, surrounded myself with community, and tried alternative coping mechanisms. None of it had worked, not for long anyway. No matter what I did, no matter how much time passed between incidents, the urge to hurt myself never went away.

On good days, the battle with my brain was background noise. On bad days, it left me exhausted and begging God to make it stop. Having found faith at an early age, I’d spent my whole life believing God loves each of us beyond measure and hears our prayers. But, after years of pleading prayers going unanswered, I often wondered if He heard me. That night, from the floor of my bathroom, I threw a singular half-question, half-accusation at the ceiling: God, do you even care?

I know I’m not the only one who has wondered if they are unseen and unnoticed by the God of the universe. Even when Jesus walked among His disciples, they doubted His care for them on occasion.

In Mark 4, after a day of ministry, Jesus and His disciples board a boat together. A tired Jesus is lulled to sleep by the boat’s gentle rocking as it makes its way to the opposite shore. In the middle of the crossing, a storm builds and the wind tosses crashing waves into the boat. Panicked, the disciples begin trying to save the boat and themselves. Realizing their efforts are futile, they wake Jesus and beg Him to save them, asking, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?”

Put plainly, the men who knew Jesus better than anyone looked at their sinking boat and asked, “Don’t you care about us?”

How often do we find ourselves in the middle of storms and asking this same question? Maybe we’re praying for healing or guidance or just some room to breathe between each wave that fills our lungs with water, but at the heart of each of those prayers is one deeper question: God, do you even care that I’m about to drown?

Laying on the floor of my bathroom that night, there was no lightning bolt moment of clarity or instantaneous healing. There was no booming voice from the heavens. The urge for self-injury that I’d dealt with most of my life didn’t suddenly disappear. But, as my tears slowed and my breath steadied, I sensed God with me.

While God is capable of calming any storm, He doesn’t promise us that He will. What He does tell us about Himself in Exodus 3:14 is “I am who I am.” God is only able to be who He has always been, which means that even today . . . He is faithful and loving and present.

I think about the relationships I have in my life, the people who I believe really care about me on a personal level — the people who show up, regardless of circumstances or mood. They make a conscious choice to be in my life, outside of obligation or requirement. If I trust that those people, incapable of unconditional love, care about me, why shouldn’t I trust that a God who promises His presence cares about me, too?

There are days that I still beg God to take away the urge to self-harm that flits through my brain all too often. In those moments, when I’m tempted to believe the lie that I’ve been abandoned and that God doesn’t care about me, I’m reminded that the same God who met Moses in the burning bush, the same God who was with Daniel in the lion’s den, the same God who sent His son to earth to walk among us, and the same God who cried with Lazarus’ sister is the same God who is with me on the nights I end up on the bathroom floor.

Whether I find healing on this side of eternity or not, I have peace in knowing that every time I ask God, “Do you even care?” His answer is a patient and resolute, “Yes.”

 

~

At (in)courage, we believe in making space for all stories and experiences. With heartache, we recognize the reality of self-harm. With hope, we share this story — proclaiming the help and healing that can be found in community and Christ. We are here for you, in prayer and in the comments below, should you wish to respond to this guest article. If you are in a crisis and considering self-harm, dial 988 for the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline which provides 24/7, free, and confidential help for self-harm. You are not alone. There is help.

How to Be the Soup Friend

by

When it comes to a crisis, the seven most useless words in the English language are “Let me know if I can help.” Because the last thing a person needs when they are in the middle of a crisis is one more decision to make. 

Recently, when my husband and I were going through a challenging season physically, we had a number of people tell us, “Let me know if I can help.” And while I love the heart behind those words, the last thing I could do was strategize the “what, when, and how” of support. It was easier to just say, “No, thank you. We’re fine.”  

But then, I have other friends who have taken the art of supporting a loved one to a new level.  

I have a great friend, Mary, who is the gift card friend. Usually, it’s a DoorDash card, but sometimes she brings one for a local grocery store if there is going to be an ongoing need. 

I have one friend, Cheri, who is the drive-by bagel friend. When there is a crisis, she has been known to show up at my house with my Starbucks order (venti skinny vanilla latte) and a dozen assorted bagels with two different flavors of cream cheese. So easy to grab and go when you need something to eat but don’t want to think. 

Another friend, Amberly, is the gathering friend. When we first received the diagnosis of our dog Moose’s lymphoma, she gathered a bunch of my friends and created a box with things that Roger, Moose, and I would love. There was cheese and chocolates for the humans, and dog treats and a lamb stuffy for Moose. It was a box of joy, and it was perfect.  

My friend Susy and I are the “Soup Friends.” When someone is in need, the only question we ask is, “Would tomorrow at 3:00 be a good time for me to drop off dinner?”  Then we show up with soup and the fixings. 

Even though I may not be the one in crisis, having soup already decided makes helping so much easier. I have those ingredients on hand, it’s delicious, and I don’t have to make decisions on my end. My friend in need doesn’t need to make decisions on her end. (And yes, I have a backup, vegetable soup, for friends who may be dairy-free or vegetarian.)  

Once I’ve made the decision to bring a friend soup, the rest is simple. 

  • The soup recipe: I have all the ingredients in the pantry or freezer. 
  • The container: I have a few plastic bowls from the dollar store that I don’t need to get back. 
  • The dessert: I can usually bake a pan of brownies (in a foil pan) while the soup is cooking on the stove. If not, I will pick up brownies at the store. 
  • The sides: I stop at the store on the way and pick up a loaf of French bread and a bagged salad that already has the dressing. 
  • The carrier: If I know the recipient will be home, the whole meal can be packed into a grocery bag. If they might not be home, I pick up a “hot and cold” bag at the store and put a Ziploc bag of ice inside.  

The key is, that I’m not dropping off anything that needs to be returned. Again, my goal is to eliminate as many decisions and extra tasks for my friend as possible.  

When a friend is in the fight of her life, the verse that stands out is Galatians 6:2 (NIV): 

 “Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.”  

Because the burden for our friends is not just the crisis, but also the inevitable daily tasks, such as feeding themselves and those around them. Showing up with that extra large bowl of soup eliminates a lot of burdens. 

How do we get better at this? What can we do to avoid saying the dreaded “let me know if I can help”?  

Create a crisis response plan before the crisis happens. Figure out what kind of friend you will be. The gift card friend? The bagel friend? The soup friend? Then prepare accordingly.   

  • Squirrel away gift cards when you have extra cash. 
  • Stock up on the ingredients a little at a time. 
  • Find out about any allergies or food preferences of the people you’ll be caring for.  
  • Buy disposable plates, bowls, bags, and other packaging materials.  

Oh, and if you need a soup recipe that is a winner, here is my go-to recipe.

Cream of Chicken and Wild Rice Soup
Prep Time: 10 minutes
Cook Time: 60 minutes
Yield: 4 bowls or 8 cups 

Ingredients 

6 T. unsalted butter
3 celery ribs, chopped
2 carrots, chopped
1 medium yellow onion, chopped
2 garlic cloves, minced
1½ tsp. finely chopped fresh thyme
½ tsp. fresh rosemary, chopped
Salt and pepper, to taste
¼ cup all-purpose flour
1 cup wild rice (5 ounces)
2 quarts chicken stock
2 cups water
4 cups chopped, cooked chicken
1 cup heavy cream 

Directions 

  1. In a large saucepan, melt the butter. Add the celery, carrots, onion, garlic, thyme, rosemary, salt, and pepper (I start out with ¼ teaspoon each of salt and pepper and then adjust while simmering), and cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables just start to soften, about 10 to 12 minutes. Sprinkle the flour over the vegetables and cook, stirring, until evenly coated and lightly browned, about 3 to 5 minutes. 
  2. Add the wild rice to the saucepan and gradually stir in the stock and water. Bring to a boil, then simmer over medium-low heat, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables are tender, about 30 minutes. 
  3. Add the chicken and simmer, stirring occasionally, until the wild rice is tender, about 10 to 15 minutes. 
  4. Stir in the cream and season with more salt and pepper, if desired. 

Carrying each other’s burdens doesn’t have to be complicated, but it does need to be practical. When a crisis hits, bring a latte, fold the laundry, take kids to school, or start a prayer chain. Be the soup friend—or whatever kind of friend God calls you to be!  

Ready to become the Soup Friend and master the art of crisis support? Pre-order Kathi’s book, Sabbath Soup today and receive an exclusive bonus: “Soup’s On! Four Weekly Meal Plans to Help You Enjoy a True Day of Rest.” 

 

Listen to Kathi’s devotion below or wherever you stream podcasts!

When It’s Hard to Be on the Internet

by

Right now is a strange time to be online. 

Not on the beautiful site where you might be reading these words, a place full of encouragement. Or in your inbox, which hopefully brings a curated collection of goodness (amidst the ads and spam and to-dos).  

I’m talking about in the comments. The wilderness of the world wide web. 

Last week a stranger screenshot a story I shared on Instagram. Pulled it out of context. Posted it to her followers. Pointed them in my direction.  

Next thing I knew, my DMs exploded with angry strangers. Calling me names. Questioning my beliefs. Cursing and condemning me.  

Then they started tagging me in other posts, horrible diatribes that had nothing to do with what I had shared. My head was spinning: what was happening? I watched in real time as the anger and intensity of our present moment erupted before my eyes, spewing heat and burning ash. 

As an author who’s been writing online for years, I’m well versed in the ways people often respond (or rather, react) on social media. But the experience of being wildly misunderstood and attacked by strangers in a targeted campaign — this was bizarre and brand-new. 

I tried to remember how Jesus handled conflict. He asked questions. He stood firm. He spoke truth. He stayed calm. He went off by Himself to pray.  

As an introvert who loves silence and stillness, I started with the last one. Took a few days offline. Talked with my spouse and friends. Tried to pray for wisdom and clarity.  

After I let my anxiety run its course, I came back online. Deleted the cruel comments. Prayed over the DMs. Blocked one person who couldn’t engage with decency. 

I kept going because I have seen how the good of social media can far outweigh the bad. We can learn from each other, grow in faith, build relationships across differences, and support each other through challenges. Even Christian community can thrive online: I have seen it with my own eyes.  

But long ago I decided that fighting with strangers on the Internet was not part of my calling. As someone who writes publicly, I have to protect my wellbeing while sharing my life through words. If I want to be right or be liked more than I strive to bring the love of Christ, then I will stumble every time. 

Here’s the hard truth that I had to relearn: 

We need to love our neighbor and our enemy everywhere.  

Jesus never gave us an “Internet out” to let us be snarky or cruel or cutting in the comments, even (and especially) when we feel like righteous warriors. We have to figure out how to treat each person as a beloved child of God, whether or not we can look them in the face — the very face that God knows and adores. 

I hate to tell you that there is no crystal-clear, comprehensive Handbook For Being A Person Of Faith Online. But we do have the wisdom and truth of Scripture to guide us. In particular, Paul’s words strike me squarely between the eyes when I read them in our Internet era:  

“Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good; love one another with mutual affection; outdo one another in showing honor. Do not lag in zeal, be ardent in spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, persevere in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints; extend hospitality to strangers.  

Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them. Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with one another; do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly; do not claim to be wiser than you are. Do not repay anyone evil for evil, but take thought for what is noble in the sight of all. If it is possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all…Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”
Romans 12:9-18, 21 NRSV 

Paul’s words remind us that we are called to be the same online as we are in person. 

Genuine. Good. Hopeful. Ardent. Patient. Peaceful. Compassionate.  

We will meet challenges and conflicts. But we can still be people of conviction and compassion. We can speak for truth and love.  

We know we can do this, because Jesus did.  

When I get lost online and have to find my bearings again, I try to remember what has helped in the past.  

  1. Pray before you post. 
  2. Take a deep breath to ground yourself in the Holy Spirit. 
  3. Forgive others and ask for forgiveness. 
  4. Look to wise leaders. 
  5. Keep Jesus’s welcome and wisdom before your eyes.

We can never know what is going on behind someone’s screen. Behind Internet bravado or cyberbullying stands a broken, hurting human — every single time. And while we never have to accept abuse or injustice, we can learn to become wiser in the ways we live and move and have our being online. We can follow Paul’s instructions and encouragement, to live a Christian life no matter where we are. 

Above all, we can keep the courage of Christ always before us.  

(Even when we check the comments.) 

 

Listen to Laura’s devotion below or on your fav podcast app!

In All Things, God Is Good

by

On the second Sunday afternoon in August, life as I know it paused for the foreseeable future. I had a full week’s worth of plans: attending an open house in the north Georgia mountains, dinner with girlfriends in my neighborhood, Friday night jazz at the High Museum with family (which had been on my calendar for six months), and lunch with my writing critique group followed by my monthly Atlanta Writers Club meeting. Everything kicked off that evening with my daughter-in-law’s birthday dinner. 

But before I got to any of that, a pick-up truck almost ran me down in the Costco parking lot. (Surely the driver didn’t see me or he would have stopped, right?)  

I tripped on the curb getting out of his way. I caught my fall, and my arm fractured in a spiral that runs from just above my elbow almost into my shoulder, like a piece of bamboo grabbed at each end and twisted in opposite directions. When I raised my head from the sidewalk and looked down at my arm, I only needed a glance to know it was broken.  

In the emergency room, they said I needed surgery within two days. But the orthopedic surgeon wants to try a compression brace first — which squeezes my arm like a vice — in hopes that the bone will grow back together. He didn’t sugarcoat the prognosis: if this works it will be a very slow and very painful process, but I would avoid a long scar, the risk of infection, potential paralysis of my hand, and permanent metal plates in my arm.  

I’m willing to try. 

My world flipped that Sunday, no longer sunny side up like my name. Everything inverted.  

Instead of feeling strong and capable, I rely on being still and clever: picking up things from the floor or moving items from the washer to the dryer with my toes (leaning forward is painful); wedging a long, skinny teaspoon into the compression brace around my arm to scratch an itch or extending it to adjust the tilt of my desk fan; pinning bottles and tubs of yogurt between my body, the kitchen counter, and the corner of the dishwasher to open lids. 

Instead of tallying my daily word count or how many chapters I’ve edited in the second draft of my first novel, I’m counting the number of calcium pills I’ve taken and how many minutes I’ve spent in the sun (doctor’s orders for vitamin D, which will help me absorb calcium and make my bones stronger). 

My perception of the world and the people around me has adjusted also. The news networks and social media want me to believe we are a very divided people, and maybe we are, politically. But since the accident, although I’ve felt as helpless and vulnerable as a baby bird, I’ve witnessed the goodness, decency, and compassion of strangers:  

The first man on the scene, who sent his family inside and stayed with me in the parking lot, helping handle interactions with the store and the firemen called to the scene. The ER nurse who treated me like his dear friend instead of just another patient. Staff at the orthopedic surgeon’s office, who saw me anyway when I arrived on the wrong day for a follow-up appointment and showed me ways to combat swelling, and loosened my compression brace enough to wiggle something inside and scratch an itch that had driven me crazy for days (leading to my own idea with the spoon).  

“Bear ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.”
Galatians 6:2 KJV  

 My world shrank. The big picture feels like a vague outline drawn with a shaky hand, like my left-handed signature when I checked myself into the emergency room.  

So I’m focusing on small things and searching for things to be grateful for each day: Neighbors who check on me and explain to my children that our roles have reversed, and they are the caregivers now. A husband who helps me navigate feeding, dressing, and cleaning myself while he regains stamina after an accident that left him on crutches for ten weeks. An empathetic dog who rushes to my side when I cry, sleeps between my knees, and apparently boosts my serotonin levels, which helps with bone health and healing. A friend who worked a full day then sat with me for three hours, like there was nowhere else she’d rather be. 

I appreciate favorite songs I haven’t heard in years, a fully-charged Kindle, neck rubs, a son who’s watching season one of 24 with me (first time for him, first time in years for me), a daughter who washed my hair and face and helped me feel human again, and another who wants to take me to Waffle House (the only place besides the doctor’s office I’m willing to show my face right now).  

Knowing I’ll never repeat the day of the accident is a comfort, but maybe someday it will help me write about trauma, pain, and what being in shock feels like. 

All of us are in different circumstances, but chances are you’re dealing with your own challenges now. I hope my story encourages you to support the people around you, whether friends, family, or strangers, to see the Lord’s provision in the bleakest circumstances, and when you find yourself overwhelmed by big worries, focus on simple daily blessings instead.  

In all things, God is good. 

Listen to Dawn’s devotion below or wherever you stream podcasts.

A Part of the Plan

by

“Return to your rest, my soul, for the Lord has been good to you.”
Psalm 116:7 NIV

When her heart got busy, the tug became real. It was an invitation she felt deep inside to convalesce. Not that she was overly broken. But she was beginning to recognize, as she got older, that life tended to wear her down but that God would build her up again. Over and over, she would return to the cocoon of His love and find herself restored, renewed, and stronger than before.

Nothing will come of the past now — what’s done is done. There are no promises for the future yet. But today … oh, today. The richness of this moment when you get to breathe air, feel the sun, watch kids play, feel sorrow and strong hugs, make plans, and see how God’s plans have unfolded.

Somewhere along the way we’ve learned that the hustle is everything. If we’re not working toward tomorrow, then are we really accomplishing anything of value? But when we live that way, we’re forgetting that God is at work. We also forget that rest is a part of the plan.

For some reason, it’s become an act of courage to choose rest over other things, but for God, He asks it of us. Slow down, He says. Look around you. Remember where you’ve been and take a look at where you are. Daydream about tomorrow.

When was the last time you truly rested? When did you sit on the back porch and sip a cup of tea? When did you lie in bed for thirty minutes before turning to your phone? When did you choose to trust God that resting is a part of your wiring? Make time today to rest. You’ll find Him waiting there for you.

God,
Thank You for the gift of being able to rest. There’s beauty in being able to reflect on the goodness of what You are doing in my life. May I slow down long enough to draw near to You always. I want my heart to be filled with thanksgiving and gratitude without my thoughts always rushing to the next thing. In Jesus’s name, Amen.

Unrushed Living: Embracing Simplicity and Savoring Life’s Moments, by Sopha Rush, is a brand new 90-day devotional about the power of slowing down and relishing the beauty of life.

We’re moving faster and faster so that we’ll finally get there — wherever “there” is. But what if “there” was actually right here? Author Sopha Rush invites you to examine why you’re in a hurry, burnt out, and under pressure to achieve or succeed. She offers an alternative to the hamster wheel: placing our faith in God — daily — and savoring the goodness of life right where we are.

Through this 90-day devotional, you’ll find value and greater satisfaction in the spaces they once tried to fill and the moments you once tried to hurry along.

Order your copy today . . . and leave a comment below for a chance to WIN a copy*!

*Giveaway open to US addresses only and closes on 9/10/24 at 11:59 pm central.

 

Listen to today’s devotion below or on your favorite podcast player!

 

Call Me Betty

by

My kids never saw it coming. They’d spent the day asking for snacks and demanding that I referee disagreements over screen time. The pressure to scream and run away built as I stared at the laundry heaped on the couch, dinner waiting to go into the oven, and my phone buzzing with text messages from work.  

How can I do it all when there’s too much to get done? 

“Mom . . . Mom . . . MOM!!!!” 

That last “Mom” did it. 

“Kids, get down here!” 

My crew tumbled down into the kitchen. The kids jockeyed for positions farthest away from a mother who looked like she was about to blow. Well, they were right. I was doing my best to keep my chaotic life together, but I could feel myself falling apart. I needed a break.  Desperation led to inspiration. I decided it was time for “Mom” to take the rest of the day off.  

“For the rest of the day, you will call me . . . Betty.”  

The kids took turns staring at me and each other. My oldest squinted through skeptical eyes and asked, “So, we can’t call you ‘Mom’?” 

Warming up to the idea, I smiled, “My name is now Betty. Now, go play.” 

For the next few hours, I worked on emails and laundry while the kids stammered through a mishmash of my old name and new. “Moooo—Um, Betty? Can I get some juice?” We began giggling each time they called me Betty. 

Fifteen years later, my kids still laugh about “Call Me Betty” day. I laugh about it, too. I believe that silly idea was an act of grace from a compassionate God who knew I needed a break, and so did my kids.  

Because back then, my constant overwhelm wasn’t funny. 

My life looked like a field of spinning plates, and I felt like a latex balloon. Every plate represented an obligation or responsibility that I needed to keep spinning so that it didn’t crash to the ground. However, my insides felt like a balloon getting bigger, stretching thinner as the pressure to keep all the plates spinning.  

The more stretched I felt, the more I snapped at the kids. The more pressure building inside, the harder it was for me to sleep or sit still. I felt like everything was on my shoulders and I couldn’t mess it up.  

I was chronically overwhelmed.  

Have you been there? Stretched too thin, drowning in our responsibilities, or unable to know what to do next? 

 My definition of overwhelmed is having too much to do, not enough time to do it, and feeling unsure, paralyzed, or stuck on how to fix it or move forward. 

No matter how it happens, no one is happy when overwhelmed. When it all feels like too much, and you don’t know what to do about it, you’re not enjoying your relationships, faith, or life. 

I love how King David captures the heart of the overwhelmed: 

“Listen to my prayer, O God.
Do not ignore my cry for help!
Please listen and answer me,
for I am overwhelmed by my troubles.
Fear and trembling overwhelm me,
and I can’t stop shaking.
Oh, that I had wings like a dove;
then I would fly away and rest!”
Psalm 55:1-2,5-6 NLT 

King David wrote these words after one of his sons tried to overthrow his kingdom. At the same time, God called David a “man after his own heart,” but that didn’t mean King David was spared from circumstances that flooded every part of his being with the desire to run away from it all. 

What should you do if you’re feeling overwhelmed today? Follow King David’s example. Rather than turn away from God in his problems, David turned toward God. He didn’t hide his honest and raw emotions; you don’t have to either. In Psalm 55, David continues to pour out his heart, and here’s where he lands — this is an invitation for you as well: 

“Give your burdens to the Lord,
and he will take care of you.
He will not permit the godly to slip and fall.”
Psalm 55:22 NLT 

Maybe you’ve never read words like this in the Bible describing how you’ve been feeling lately. Perhaps today, you might be relieved to know that God isn’t disappointed that you’re overwhelmed and that you wish you could escape from the pressure and all the responsibilities. 

 Tell God what’s too much for you to handle today and hand it to Him.  

 And feel free to change your name to Betty if it helps. 

 Excerpts taken from Barb Roose’s new Bible study, Stronger Than Stress: Developing 10 Spiritual Practices to Win the Battle of Overwhelm.  

 

Listen to Barb’s devotion below or wherever you stream podcasts.

3 Ways to Keep Your Passion for Jesus Strong

by

“Don’t burn out; keep yourselves fueled and aflame.
Be alert servants of the Master, cheerfully expectant.
Don’t quit in hard times; pray all the harder.”
Romans 12:11-12 The Message 

For many, September feels like a fresh start. Kids are going back to school. Summer is giving way to fall. There’s a burst of energy and urgency to make the last third of the year really count.  

But with the hope of cooler temps, all things pumpkin, and finally making progress on January’s goals, you may also feel weary.  

Jesus understands this. It’s why He invites all who are weary and burdened to come to Him! (Matthew 11:28-30). 

But Paul also encourages us not to give in to spiritual burnout. We must actively and intentionally keep our passion for Jesus and commitment to following God strong.  

How do we do this?  

Be alert! Pay attention to what God is doing in and around you.  

Be cheerfully expectant! Trust that God is working on your behalf, and let His promises fuel your hope. 

Pray! Don’t give up when life gets hard. Take heart knowing Jesus is with you. He will never forsake you. And He is listening to your prayers and interceding for you.  

We love dedicating the first Sunday of every month to pray for one another. Share your prayer request and pray for another (in)courage sister. We are stronger together! 

 

The Secret to Embracing God’s Perfect Peace Through Life’s Storms

by

A few months ago, I found myself in a high-conflict divorce that was taking a toll on my emotional well-being and finances. As legal fees piled up and the demands of single parenting two teenagers increased, I often felt overwhelmed and anxious. 

Amid this turmoil, I attended a healing retreat in North Carolina. Due to financial constraints, I had to book budget-friendly flights, which included a 14-hour layover on my return trip. On the last day of the retreat, feeling particularly anxious to get back home to my kids, I prayed to God, expressing my desire for an earlier flight.

The next morning, I received an email from the airline informing me that my flight had been rebooked to an earlier time at no additional cost! I was in awe and filled with gratitude. This experience was a significant moment for me, teaching me to rest and trust God with my worries. It was a reminder that even in the mundane details of life, God is actively working on our behalf.

The journey continued the next day as I prepared to return home and catch a connecting flight from North Carolina to Atlanta. As we approached Atlanta, the pilot announced that a heavy storm was causing delays, and we would have to taxi on the runway because all the gates were occupied. The likelihood of missing my connecting flight loomed large. Anxiety started to creep in again, but then I recalled two scriptures:

Be still, and know that I am God.
Psalm 46:10

You will keep in perfect peace
those whose minds are steadfast,
because they trust in you.
Isaiah 26:3

Choosing to trust in God’s sovereignty, I rested in His peace. While other passengers were visibly stressed about missing their connecting flights, I remained calm, reflecting on the miracle God had performed just twenty-four hours earlier. I trusted that He had the situation under control.

After several announcements about further delays, the pilot suddenly informed us that a gate had opened and we would be able to deplane shortly. Unbelievably, the gate we were assigned was right next to my connecting flight’s gate. Instead of a fifteen-minute dash across the airport, I had a mere fifty-second walk. I made my connecting flight just in time!

This experience amplified a profound truth: God is in control, even when circumstances seem impossible. When I shared these experiences with my kids and new friends from the retreat, they were amazed and encouraged at how God orchestrates everything. It wasn’t just about making my flights — it was about deepening my trust in Him.

Reflecting on these events, I’ve realized that learning to trust and rest in God’s promises in stormy seasons is a continual process. It’s not a one-time decision, but a daily practice of shifting our focus from our problems to His promises. Life is full of twists and turns, and our initial reactions might be fear or anxiety. However, we have the authority to refuse giving these emotions a place in our hearts. We have the authority to rest in God’s perfect peace.

Here are some practical steps that have helped me embrace God’s perfect peace through this stormy season of life.

1. Conversation with God: Regularly talking to God about our concerns and desires helps shift our focus from our problems to His provision. Open, honest communication with God allows us to lay our burdens at His feet and trust in His plan.

2. Scripture Meditation: One of my favorite meditations in the Bible is Isaiah 26:3. Holding onto Scriptures like this one provides a pathway to peace and trust. Meditating on His promises helps to realign our thoughts with God’s truth.

3. Rest in His Presence: Practicing stillness and acknowledging God’s complete control helps to cultivate a peaceful mindset despite troubling circumstances. Psalm 46:10 tells us, “Be still, and know that I am God.” This truth helps us center our hearts and minds on God’s sovereignty.

To let the peace of God permeate your heart in a new way, start by creating moments of quiet reflection throughout your day. Begin each morning with a few minutes of prayer and Scripture reading, asking God to fill your heart with His peace. Whenever anxiety starts to rise up, take a moment to pause, breathe deeply, and repeat a Scripture that brings you comfort.

These steps are practical ways to experience God’s perfect peace. The same God who provided for me is working in your life too. When we remember His past faithfulness, it strengthens our faith for present and future challenges.

Are you currently enduring an exhausting and difficult season, unsure how to navigate it with grace and peace of mind? 

Are you faced with relationship difficulties, financial hardships, job loss, health problems, or the loss of loved ones? Remember, God is greater than any storm we face. When we rely solely on our own strength, we invite stress and anxiety — but by embracing God’s perfect peace and surrendering our worries to Him, we will find true rest and assurance during all life’s storms.

The Best Advice from Las Damas

by

Hispanic Heritage is rich, vibrant, and multifaceted. My culture, Hispanic culture, offers an array of stories filled with brave, resilient, and tenacious individuals who selflessly contribute to the tapestry of North America while being a diverse community.

Though we stand connected, we are unique, leaving much to learn and celebrate all year round. 

Spanish is spoken in most of our countries; however, various dialects are spoken in different villages and towns, adding another layer of history and beauty to our people. As a community, we are known for being profoundly family-oriented and rich in culinary, musical, religious, and holiday traditions passed down from generation to generation. 

I was born in Antigua, Guatemala. If you’re not good with geography, don’t worry; neither am I. Guatemala is a tiny country found right below Mexico. Most of my childhood and adolescent years were spent with my Abue, my grandmother (short for Abuelita in Spanish), who was also born in Guatemala. She passed down Guatemalan dichos (sayings), which she used to accentuate and explain the point she was trying to make. 

She also shared stories of her childhood filled with traumatic realities that no child should bear, along with her dreams of one day making it to America for a better future. In the early eighties, Aube made it and eventually became an American Citizen with only a third-grade education. She attended night school for years to learn English and obtain her high school diploma. 

However, no matter where we lived – Guatemala, Canada, or Arkansas – Abue always instilled in me the importance of speaking Spanish, keeping traditions, practicing hospitality, cultivating community, and following Jesus.

One of Abue’s most practiced traditions was to give thanks to God no matter the circumstance. Whether her heart was filled with joy or heartbreak, she would always give thanks, especially when celebrating a birthday. 

I waited forever for my fifteenth birthday – my quinceañera. A quinceañera is a coming-of-age celebration for young women to mark the transition from childhood to womanhood. In my mind, this day called for a big, puffy, beautiful pink dress for the birthday girl, many friends, lively salsa and merengue music, and delicious food. However, given our limited finances, I knew that would not be possible. 

But Abue, with her determined nature, was resolute in passing down this tradition. With the help of my father and the church community, I had my celebration. It was a servicio de accion de gracias ( a thanksgiving service) that included traditional hymns and a sermon that spoke to the goodness of God.

It was nothing like the quinceañera parties the other girls had. There was no music and not many friends. Instead of the elaborate pink dress of my dreams, I got an ivory chiffon dress; it was a budget-friendly alternative that matched the simple luncheon held in an old church basement that smelled like mold and mothballs that Las Damas (Ladies in the Church) stayed up late helping me and Abue decorate.The decorations included dollar store balloons, ribbon hanging from the ceiling, wooden tables with cheap plastic pink tablecloths, and tacky centerpieces. 

Despite the disappointment, I remember the sound of laughter filling that old basement as Las Damas cooked together to help make this celebration a reality. Plus Abue’s delicious pavo con arroz (turkey with rice in Spanish) was on the menu — yum! 

It’s also the consejos (advice) that was passed on as we decorated late into the night that I remember most. They told me, La oración lo cambia todo (prayer changes everything), con Dios todo es possible (with God all things are possible), and Nunca estás sola, Ligia, Dios siempre va contigo (You’re never alone, Ligia, God always goes with you). 

Las Dama’s love for me that special day and these words were engraved in my heart.  As I got older, they became the voice of Jesus to me, often my only lifeline when life’s challenges were too much to bear.

It’s the love of Jesus that my Abue and other women in our communities have so intentionally and beautifully modeled for me throughout my life – love through community. Coming together intentionally, nurturing safety in the relationships we are entrusted with. They know that generations to come are not only shaped by traditions but by togetherness. 

To try to encapsulate the stories of our Hispanic community’s bravery, resilience, and tenacity, our rich history, accomplishments, and inspiration in just one month is like trying to cover the sun with one finger, or as my Abue says to this day, querer tapar el sol con un dedo – it’s impossible. But I believe sharing my personal story is a starting point. 

As we approach Hispanic Heritage Month, can I encourage you to think of how you, too, can be the hands and feet of Jesus to a community that desires a relationship with you? Please don’t reduce us to Cinco de Mayo beers after work, Jennifer Lopez, or Feliz Navidad lyrics. Instead, take the time to sit with us, ask honest questions, and listen with your heart without any preconceived notions. Accept this month as our community’s invitation to come together and learn to nurture a safe environment by proximity. 

The generations to come will be greatly impacted by our togetherness, even with the discomfort of our differences.

I want to leave you with the consejos that Las Damas left me with: 

Prayer changes everything, with God all things are possible, and you’re never alone, friend; God always goes with you.

 

Listen to Ligia’s devotion below or on your favorite podcast app!

Make a Difference by Breaking Bread

by

One of our daughters got married on a lovely day in October. Preparing for it long-distance was a challenge. She’s lived in Florida since 2022 and the wedding took place here in Georgia. We missed out on the fun of planning together face-to-face, and the thought of forgetting or messing up a crucial detail terrified me.

Our original guest list of nearly 200 people was the max our venue could accommodate. Although we tried to keep up with the RSVPs, sometimes people are hard to nail down and things happen. When preparing to feed so many people, it’s easy to question quantities. We trusted the caterer’s formula for the meal itself. My husband and I each calculated how many gallons of water, sweet tea, and lemonade we’d need, but at the last minute, my daughter wanted us to double it to be safe. Same with the appetizers we made for guests to enjoy while the wedding party took photos.

Sure enough, we had plenty of leftovers. At the end of the evening, we loaded the back of my car with the extra food and drinks and sent more home with our adult children. I knew what we’d be eating for supper each night and what my husband would take to work for lunch each day. And after months of excitement and anticipation building towards this day, I welcomed a week off of kitchen duty.

Have you noticed how items appear larger when you bring them into your home? That a couch that seemed a reasonable size in the showroom barely fits in your living room? That’s how it felt when we unloaded the leftovers and stacked metal pans filled our garage refrigerator. No way could we eat this much in a week. I began looking for opportunities to feed others with our bounty.

A friend and I had planned to get together the week after the wedding, so I invited her to eat at our house instead of going out. Two days later I hosted an impromptu lunch for some ladies in our neighborhood. What a spread! We filled our plates with smoked chicken, pulled pork, cowboy baked beans, salad, and tidbits from fruit and veggie trays. The food assuaged our hunger, but the fellowship satisfied a deeper need.

Have you noticed how many stories in Scripture involve Jesus and food? He began His earthly ministry by transforming water into wine at a wedding feast in Cana (John 2:1-11) and concluded His time on earth with the Last Supper (Luke 22:14-20). He fed a multitude with five loaves and four fishes (John 6:1-14), ate with sinners and tax collectors (Mark 2:15), and was anointed with oil and a woman’s tears during a meal (Luke 7:36-50). He used parables about wedding feasts to teach humility and radical hospitality (Luke 14:7-24).

Jesus continued to serve others through food after His resurrection. He fed the disciples after a weary (but successful) night of fishing by welcoming them to “come and dine” (John 21:8-14). When He encountered two disciples on the road to Emmaus, they didn’t recognize the resurrected Jesus until the moment He broke bread with them (Luke 24:30-35).

The connection goes even deeper: Jesus referred to Himself as the bread of life, the satisfaction for the hunger and thirst within our souls.

“And Jesus said unto them, I am the bread of life: he that cometh to me shall never hunger, and he that believeth on me shall never thirst.”
John 6:35 KJV

With the start of the holidays upon us, I’ve been thinking about warm traditions and festive gatherings. It’s a time when spirits rise but depression rates soar. For many, the holidays bring bittersweet memories of loved ones who’ve passed. Some struggle to balance busy calendars, while others battle loneliness that’s more acute this time of year.

Sisters, we can make a difference in someone’s life with something we do every day: sitting down for a meal. Breaking bread together involves more than eating; it’s about serving people and spending time with them. It’s about slowing down, sharing stories, and savoring food and fellowship. You don’t need to throw a fancy dinner party (although you certainly can if you’re able and enjoy it). But all you really need to do is just open your circle a little wider. Pull up an extra chair to the table.

Let’s open our hearts and our homes this season and view mealtimes the way Jesus did: as an opportunity to serve others and come together in fellowship through the ministry of breaking bread.

This devotion is by Dawn Camp as featured in the fall issue of Everyday Faith Magazine.

The FALL issue of DaySpring’s Everyday Faith magazine is out, and we think you’ll love it!

From cover to cover, you will find stories and articles in Everyday Faith magazine to inspire hope, encourage your heart, and remind you that you are loved by God.

You’ll discover tips on how to feel true gratitude, a guide to select the perfect planner, ways to cheer on school-age kids, comforting words for difficult times, and advice on what to say in tough situations. These pages are full of the best support and reassurance—truth from God’s Word.

The article above is just one of many featured in Everyday Faith magazine, which is perfect for gifting to a friend, Bible study sister, Sunday School teacher, or neighbor. And to help you do just that, we’re giving away FIVE sets of magazines — one for each winner and one for them to give to a friend! Leave a comment telling us to whom you’d gift a copy, and we’ll draw five winners.

Giveaway is open to US addresses only and will close on 9/3/24 at 11:59 pm central. 

Listen to today’s devotion below or wherever you stream podcasts!

The Extraordinary Miracle of Encouragement

by

It started with a simple email:

“I’m a pastor’s wife and along with the rest of the elder’s wives in our local church we are facilitating some of the women’s ministry. I realise this is a far stretch … but I’m taking a chance that you may be able to come and spend a week or so in South Africa and in particular address the women at our annual weekend away.”

That email arrived in my inbox at the end of December. Less than seven months and a handful of Zoom calls later, I traveled from Denver, Colorado to Johannesburg, South Africa, where I spent half the month of July connecting with these women along with several other churches and ministries throughout the country. By the time I boarded my plane to return home, I was both exhausted and elated. 

I have never felt so encouraged and excited about the global church. The headlines might be full of bad news, but the Good News is alive and thriving. And what God is doing in and through His Bride all over the globe is nothing short of spectacular. 

You should know, this was my third trip to South Africa. Nothing magical happened, no signs in the sky or dead bodies raised back to life. And yet, in the two weeks I spent sharing my story and listening to the stories of so many others, I experienced something miraculous just the same. For in the simple act of coming together, joined in our love of Jesus and desire to follow Him all the days of our lives, something divine and truly extraordinary happened:

We encouraged each other.

I know, I know. You were hoping for something more dramatic and eye-popping. “Encouragement” sounds so ordinary. But don’t be misinformed: Encouragement IS dramatic. Even better, it is holy.

“After Paul and Silas came out of the prison, they went to Lydia’s house,
 where they met with the brothers and sisters and encouraged them.”
 Acts 16:40 NIV

At the prompting of the Holy Spirit, Paul and Silas traveled to Philippi to share the Good News of Jesus with the people there. On the Sabbath, they went outside the city gate to a place they believed to be a gathering spot for prayer. They shared the Gospel with those they met, and many became followers of Jesus including a woman named Lydia. Some time after, Paul and Silas land in jail. After an earthquake, more Gospel-preaching, and many conversions (including the jailer!), Paul and Silas are released. And what do they do first? “They went to Lydia’s house, where they met with the brothers and sisters and encouraged them.” 

The Greek word Luke uses here for “encouraged” is parakaleo, which is the combination of two Greek words: para, which means to the side of, and kaleo, which is to call. Combined, they create this two-sided interaction in which one person calls another for help and the other person responds by coming to their side and offering what is needed most: comfort, exhortation, consolation, and encouragement. Parakaleo is a powerful and significant word. In fact, Jesus calls the Holy Spirit our paraklete, a derivative of parakaleo.

(Go ahead and read that again.)

When you and I ask for help AND when you and I come to the side of each other in response to that call, we partner with the Holy Spirit, God’s presence in and with us. 

Encouragement is an expression of the trinity, a way for us mere mortals in the middle of challenging circumstances to bear witness with each other to the extraordinary activity of God. As a result? Hearts so weary they are near dead are brought back to life. Faith long crippled and weak discovers new strength to stand tall. Like Paul, Silas, and the believers at Lydia’s home. All because of this extraordinary exchange called parakaleo:

The Miracle of Encouragement.

Sometimes I think we make church far more complicated than it needs to be. We create big events and develop complex programs. We wear ourselves out trying to make all of our words loud and ministries shiny. I wonder if what our world truly needs might be far more simple: 

Encouragement. 

A willingness to drop everything else and come to the side of anyone needing a hand. Spending time in each other’s homes, sharing our stories, one day, one moment at a time, until our faith flies like a flag, waving hope to all the nations. 

Be encouraged, friends. I’m standing at your side today as a reminder that you are not alone. God sees you, loves you, and is not finished with you. Have courage. 

Now, find someone else who needs to hear that, too. 

 

Listen to Michele’s devotion below or on your fave podcast app!

Three Words from Jesus to Give You Hope Today

by

Take heart, daughter.

These are the words Jesus says to a woman who has endured bleeding for twelve years. She has pressed through a crowd. She has sought Jesus. She has touched the edge of His cloak. She is unclean. She shouldn’t be here. She is breaking all the rules. But she can’t hold back. Because she also knows what it’s like to be isolated and anxious, hopeful then devastated, discouraged and desperate to keep believing that God has healing in store for her.

Have you ever felt that way? Maybe you haven’t bled physically — but you’ve bled emotionally. Maybe the wound came from someone you love and should have been able to trust. Perhaps depression drained all the joy from your heart. Life circumstances might have cut you and you’re still trying to recover.

What I love about this biblical story is that Jesus doesn’t say, “Get well soon” or even “Be healed.” Everyone who knew the details of this woman’s story thought her biggest problem was losing blood. Jesus alone looked at her and saw that the biggest risk was that she could lose heart.

Losing heart means we stop believing things can get better.
Losing heart means we can’t seem to keep our grip on hope.
Losing heart means living tired and numb, going through the motions.
Losing heart means becoming disconnected from the truest parts of who we are.
Losing heart means we start saying, “This is just the way it is.”

We will all be tempted to lose heart at some point in our lives. It might come after years of something hard. It might happen suddenly because of an unexpected loss. It might not be one thing but many, a slow accumulation of hurts that steal our strength. Are you the woman pressing into Jesus today?

“Jesus turned and saw her. ‘Take heart, daughter,’ he said, ‘your faith has healed you.’ And the woman was healed at that moment.” (Matthew 9:22 NIV)

Jesus is turning toward you today. He sees your pain. He is saying to you, “Take heart, daughter.” These are words of affection and protection. They are an affirmation and invitation. They are full of tenderness and belonging.

What’s causing you to lose heart today? Whatever you’re facing, it matters to Jesus. He has seen all you have endured. He knows how many nights you’ve stared at the ceiling, trying to sleep. He has heard every prayer that feels like it’s still unanswered.

Jesus knows how hard it is sometimes to just keep trusting, keep pressing forward, keep believing that change is possible. He looks at you not with criticism but compassion, not pressure to hurry up your healing but infinite patience, not disapproval but deep love.

The woman who approached Jesus did what she could until Jesus did what only He can. She showed up. She dared to try. She took steps. So if you are in a season of waiting for healing, it is okay for you to do what you can too.

In my life, that has looked like saying “I’m not okay” to trusted friends, going to counseling, moving my body in healthy ways, looking for resources to help me learn and grow. It means asking, “What is the next small step I can take toward Jesus today?” and then doing so even on the days I don’t feel like it.

Of course, there are also meltdowns and detours, slip-ups and setbacks, moments when I want to just give up. That’s part of being human for all of us. What matters is that we keep going until the moment when we finally experience the healing we’ve been seeking. It is coming. I type that with hopeful tears in my eyes. It is not meant as a cliché or spiritual band-aid. I know full well it doesn’t take the bleeding away. But I’m choosing to keep believing today, and I’m inviting you to do the same with me.

Take heart, daughter.

Jesus spoke those words to a woman in a crowd; He is still speaking them to your heart now.

If you’re losing heart because you’ve been hurt by someone in your life, Holley’s online course Heal After You’re Hurt can help you heal and move forward. Find out more here.

 

Listen to Holley’s devotion below or on your favorite podcast app.

When God Whispers

by

Write it down.

The words that came to me upon waking on a May morning several years ago were so softly spoken, that I would’ve missed them if they had not reverberated in my whole being. I had just had the most incredible dream, one where I was walking through a house with a certain number of bedrooms, more than one kitchen, and the exterior painted forest green. 

When I woke up, I could still feel the embrace of that dream home wrapping me in warmth and peace. And in the silence of that early morning, I heard God whisper the words, Write it down. His voice was so intimate and deeply personal that tears rose as I grabbed a notebook and did my best to scribble down what I had seen and experienced in my dream. 

After doing so, I turned to my husband and told him about my dream. In response, he pulled out his phone and decided to search for a house located in the south of Iceland that fit that description, just for fun. We had been living in Akureyri, a town in the north, for two years and knew we were being led to move to the south. We really didn’t have an idea of what specific town we would move to, let alone the finances to purchase a house when we did move.

After scrolling through a few available houses in the capital and surrounding areas, my husband turned the phone around to show me one house in particular. “That’s the color of the house in my dream,” I breathed. As he listed out all the details, my mouth continued to drop. Not only did this house fit the description in my dream, but it was located in my husband’s hometown.

From the overflow of that moment, God continued to direct and provide and by August we had moved into that dream home.  

I often look back on that moment. The dream and all that unfolded was such a palpable and tangible experience of God’s provision. But what I recall the most fondly is how God spoke to me in that sacred moment between waking and sleeping, in the quiet sliver of time where distractions gave way to a divine interaction. 

That whisper changed so much in my life and my family. It led to decisions and steps towards home.

Yet I wonder how many times I’ve missed or ignored God’s personal and intimate nudge. What other worries and fears could I have alleviated by leaning in to His voice? What need may have been met, provision received if I had quieted myself enough to listen? What distractions are taking a more prominent role and dividing my attention from all the thoughts God has over me?

“How precious to me are your thoughts, God! How vast is the sum of them!
Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand—when I awake, I am still with you.”
Psalm 139:17-18 NIV

God’s thoughts over us are numerous and beyond measure. So why do we sometimes settle for counterfeit words when even His whisper can reverberate through our present circumstances and into a multitude of centuries? I am grateful for the way God spoke to me in my dream, but His words are also available to us in every moment of every day.

The environments we live in definitely don’t make hearing His voice easy. The noise of opinion often shows up louder and stronger than the truth we really seek.

As my family now settles after a time of transition back to the States, I find myself tempted to get caught up in a whirlwind of noise. Lies seem louder when you’re tired. Hope feels more deferred when you’re discouraged. It’s often more convenient to cultivate patterns of striving and stress than rhythms of abiding and rest.

But God has never stopped speaking. And although He may come on the scene with thunderous roars, He can pierce through the hardest hearts with the gentlest whisper. God is faithful to step into our whirlwinds. Instead of matching the fury of a storm, He encloses us in His arms, tucks us to His chest, and speaks the words that we desperately need to hear.

If you would like to read more about letting go of lies and leaning in to what God says about you, check out this free download of Jenny’s book, Milk & Honey in the Land of Fire & Ice.

 

Listen to Jenny’s devotion below or wherever you stream podcasts. (Just search (in)courage!)

No Matter What Happens Next…

by

“I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.”
John 16:33 NLT

I wonder if the disciples gave each other the side eye when Jesus told them that here on earth they would have many trials and sorrows. Did they think of the families and jobs they had left to follow Jesus? Did they think of their friend John the Baptist who had been beheaded for his faith? Did they remember the faces of every sick or bleeding or demon-possessed person who had come to Jesus over the last three years seeking healing?

Surely the disciples were as keenly aware of the trials and sorrows of this world as you and I are today. They may not have known words like cancer, coronavirus, terrorism, or depression, but they saw corruption in the temple courts, watched parents grieve the death of children, and knew that some people would rather murder the promised Messiah than surrender their grasp on power. And they probably sensed that things were going to get worse before they got better. Have you had that sinking feeling too?

On the last night before He was crucified, Jesus lingered around a table with His closest friends and poured out His heart. Though they had logged countless hours and miles doing life and ministry side by side, Jesus used this night, known as the Last Supper, to make sure they knew the most important things.

Jesus’s farewell teaching is recorded in John 13–16. His final instructions fall under three main themes:

• Love one another (13:34–35; 15:17).
• If you love God, obey Him and remain in Him to bear fruit (14:15; 15:5–10).
• God will send the Spirit to guide you (14:26; 16:7–14).

It’s at the end of this rich, mind-bending, life-changing, revolutionary teaching that Jesus says, “I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world” (John 16:33 NLT).

I’m not going to lie. I’d prefer it if Jesus would have said, “I have told you these things so that in me you may have peace — because if you simply follow my instructions, life will be fun and easy and pain-free. Hooray!” Please tell me I’m not the only one. I would have liked to save my younger self (and my current self ) from the heartbreak and uncertainty and fear that come from living in a fallen and broken world.

But even as I write this, I know my thinking is flawed. If life was absent of trouble, or if peace and perfection were within our reach, we wouldn’t need a Savior. Jesus didn’t come to teach us how to control life and avoid pain. He came to overcome the world and give us His peace.

The peace of Jesus comes in His fierce with-ness. Do you know what I mean by that? No matter what happens, no matter what storm rages, or what circumstances rock your world, Jesus will be right there with you. Even as Jesus prepared His disciples for His departure, He assured them of His steadfast commitment. “I will not leave you as orphans; I am coming to you” (John 14:18).

Take a moment and think of a challenging situation or trial. Maybe it’s an issue at work, a conflict with a close friend, or an inner struggle you have never even named. Hold it in your mind. Feel the tension it causes in your body. Let the mental and emotional weight you carry transfer to your physical body. Now add Jesus to your picture. Right in the middle of that family crisis or worrisome visit to the doctor, imagine Jesus is sitting beside you. No matter what happens next, He’s not leaving.

Take a deep breath. Inhale the gift of His presence.

This is the peace of Jesus. Not that your circumstances will instantly change or that the road ahead will be free of painful potholes and disheartening detours, but that God the Son in the person of Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit whom He sent go with you.

By Becky Keife from our (in)courage Bible Study, Create in Me a Heart of Peace

 

If You’re Holding Pain From a Broken Covenant, Here’s the Truth That Will Heal You

by

Months after he left, after he walked away from almost twenty years of marriage, I was still face down in the heartbreak of it all.

He’d chosen a different life—one that didn’t include me, my daughter, our friends, or our families. When the unthinkable crashes in and steals away all that’s familiar, it throws us into a deeply unwanted new normal.

And there I was, holding a broken covenant, consumed with confusion and fixated on the pain. Shame partnered with anxiety and, together, they spun a nasty narrative about my inadequacies, pointing a gnarled finger at all I could have — should have — done differently.

One morning, as I slid out of bed, anxiety greeted me with such force, it took my breath away. I couldn’t escape the words circling around in my head.

Rejectable.
Rejected.
Replaceable.

If you and I were sitting down together over coffee, I’d tell you all the details of that particular morning. Because that morning . . . everything changed. It was as though our Heavenly Father reached into my new, little life — into my new little apartment — and stopped the spin.

Gently, I felt Him prompt me to start writing. In particular, and this still gives me goosebumps, I felt Him say, “Write down all the ‘R’ words you can think of.”

I know, it seems odd. But, God speaks to us in ways that are uniquely meaningful to us. I love words. In particular, for as long as I can remember, I have loved “R” words. That morning, deep in the valley of rejection, I started writing down all the “R” words I could think of. I started with the obvious.

Rejected. Rejectable. Replaceable.

I circled them several times in my journal, just to remind Him of what I’d been through . . . as if He didn’t know. It’s hard for me to tell this story without emotion. Because as I wrote, focusing on what He asked me to focus on, the words began to change. After several seemingly meaningless words, I watched my pen write out the word Relish.

It was like the whole room disappeared, and I just sat staring at this strange word on my page.

“Relish?” I asked. “Like the condiment?”

“Look it up,” I sensed the Lord say.

Relish. To adore. To enjoy greatly. To add zest.

Leaping from my chair, I danced around my living room, tears of joy and gratitude free-flowing. In an instant, I understood. The King of Heaven adores me — He thinks I add zest. He enjoys me greatly!

No human rejection trumps this truth. No decision against me holds any weight when compared to His decision for me. He declares me irreplaceable. Wanted. Loved. Enjoyed. Worthy of the greatest pursuit of all time (John 3:16).

For many months, I had been seeing myself through the eyes of the man who had walked away instead of through the eyes of the One Who never would. The eyes and heart of the One Who is fully for us — Who chooses us again and again.

Oh, how my heart needed this message — and maybe yours does, too.

Maybe you’ve felt the heartache of rejection or betrayal. Maybe the trauma of your past spins a shame narrative in your soul. Or maybe, like so many of the women who come through the door of my counseling office, you battle the taunting of anxiety and wonder if you’ll ever feel good enough . . . if you’ll ever measure up.

Friend, please let your heart hear this: God wants you. The King of Heaven’s Armies is running to you. Defending you. Declaring you. Pursuing you. Choosing you — as though it was just you and Him.

If I could show you my journal from that morning, you’d see several passages written out in big, bold letters and circled with obvious enthusiasm. But I keep coming back to Isaiah 43:1, “‘Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine.’”

Called by name by God Himself — we are His.

I wish I could tell you that the pain of betrayal and rejection ended that day. It didn’t. I still battled anxiety from time to time. And the ripple effect of a life undone still created waves of grief.

But what did change was how hard it landed. When I fully grasped Who chose me, it stopped mattering who didn’t. When I stayed focused on His truth and all He says about me, I found considerable relief from the lies handed down through the trauma.

So, in case you need to be reminded today, my friend, your Heavenly Father adores you. He thinks you add zest. No matter what has happened, He declares you chosen, irreplaceable, and wonderfully made.

May that truth linger long for you as you journey through all you might be facing today.

Everyday Superpowers, Supernatural Power, and Why We Absolutely Need Both

by

All of us have something special within ourselves that impacts others and can alter the atmosphere around us: Everyday superpowers. Not exactly the blockbuster movie variety, but superpowers nonetheless. Attitudes and influence that shape opinion, encourage or inspire, and change the course of someone’s day, even if only our own. This is not nothing. In fact, it’s quite a lot.

The person who can always soothe a crying baby in your church nursery. The friend who has a knack for fixing virtually anything. The stranger who sing-songs across the Kroger parking lot, “I LOVE your dress!” turning your frown upside down, then, “Girl, your SHOES (hand gesturing in a dramatic swirl from your head toward your feet), you got it GOING ON today!” Okay…that was personal. Someone I had never met until last Tuesday, and won’t likely ever see again, had the ability to transform my lousy day into something lovely. If that isn’t power, I don’t know what is.

Everyday superpowers are not something we conjure or force, but they can be cultivated. 

Ephesians 2:10 (NLT) tells us, “… we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.” We are created in His image with a planned purpose, and regardless of our age or stage, there are always good things for us to do. 

What you offer matters because no one else has exactly what you have to give. God has fashioned each one of us uniquely in a way to impact the people and circumstances around us, whether in word or deed, in large ways or small. Do you understand what that means? Darling, the world hasn’t been the same since you were born.

Satan knows this, too. I suspect he understands God’s plans for us better than we do. It would explain the discouragement, defeat, and despair that continually creep into our hearts and minds. Satan hates us – he hates God! – and he effectively undermines us (and God) any way he can.  

Usually, I think of our everyday superpowers as an outward influence, but recently I’ve considered what a superpower can mean personally. For most of my life, one of my superpowers has been “irrepressible optimism and a tendency to find good in everything” — textbook Pollyanna. In the absence of light, I’d pinpoint the bright side. When all seemed lost, I could find the thinnest silver lining. But, as the past two years have brought some of the darkest days of my life, there have been moments when I’ve been crushed by the pain of circumstance. I could barely hold it together.

It’s easy to think (tapping into faith), “This is right where God wants you. In your weakness, He is strong,” and while that might be true, I would’ve wanted to smack anyone who said that to me. I was in a pit where bright sides and silver linings couldn’t penetrate the darkness. Any superpower I had, or thought I had, was effectively neutralized. I scoffed at every Christian cliché I heard or ever uttered. I couldn’t reconcile a “good God” with the anguish and heartache our family was facing. I was going through the motions the best I could, but underneath a thin veneer, I was fragile, often on the edge of breaking.

I was sad and angry all the time. Have you ever been in a place like that?

Thankfully, another of my everyday superpowers is the ability to think rationally when my mind and emotions are whack-a-doodle. I understood I needed help, and the solution wasn’t Pollyanna. I reached out to my doctor. I confided in people who loved me and who my rational mind knew I could trust. People with whom I could be honest about the ugliness and unbelief I was feeling. People who would listen and pray, not try to fix me. People who would know the right time to point me to Jesus, not shove Him in my face. People with everyday superpowers I desperately needed.  

And, then there was my sister — who was suffering the most — yet intuitively understood how I felt. “Be positive!” she’d chirp when we’d video chat, making a checkmark in front of her heart with her thumb and index finger while simultaneously clicking her tongue, parroting how her husband uses the same words and gestures to encourage her.  

Initially, I wanted to smack her, too. I’d smile politely, irritated at and disappointed in myself that she was the one with a terminal brain tumor, and I wasn’t rallying her. 

But God was at work. He heard the prayers of those interceding, and the Holy Spirit tended my heart. “Be positive” became a battle cry. This wasn’t my Pollyanna disposition resurfacing. Being positive became a powerful act of resistance against the darkness around and within me. This wasn’t any superpower. This was God’s supernatural power at work. 

“I waited patiently for the Lord to help me,
and he turned to me and heard my cry.
He lifted me out of the pit of despair,
out of the mud and the mire.
He set my feet on solid ground
and steadied me as I walked along.
He has given me a new song to sing,
a hymn of praise to our God.“
Psalm 40:1-3 NLT

In my dark pit, I needed the supernatural power of Jesus. He met me there and lifted me out of my despair. And He keeps meeting me through His Word and prayer. Through vulnerability and medical support. Through the everyday superpowers of friends and family. Through those whose faith is strong and those, like my sister, whose body is weak. Superpowers birthed from supernatural power are remarkable. How so?

God’s supernatural power empowers you and me to resist the fiery darts of the enemy. His promises are no trite cliché but our precious lived grace.

Might we dare to ask God to use the everyday superpowers He’s knit into our DNA for someone who’s hurting? We never know whose day, whose life, it could change.

 

Listen to Robin’s devotion below or wherever you stream podcasts.