The Most Important Thing I Learned from My 84-year-old Neighbor

The Most Important Thing I Learned from My 84-year-old Neighbor

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I sit in my neighbor’s living room. Watercolor landscapes and abstract canvases with bold colors grace each wall, evidence of her love of art and former life as an artist. Knickknacks and artifacts from around the world adorn bookcases and side tables. I’ve heard the story of the native woman carved in shiny driftwood and the Eskimo etched in soapstone. But there are so many treasures that tell pieces of my aged friend’s treasured past, places she’s lived, people she’s known.

Though we’ve spent time together regularly for the past three years, I sense there are still countless layers to her story I do not know.

I’ve brought over cups of tea – chamomile with a little sugar for her, decaf vanilla chai for me – and flaky butter croissants. I enjoy watching her enjoy.

She tells me a story I’ve heard more than once, but I don’t mind. She’s my first true friend from the Silent Generation, and I know it’s a gift to have earned her trust. Even with some stories that loop on repeat, I learn something new every time we’re together.

But perhaps the greatest thing I’ve learned from her is resiliency.

My friend grew up in Germany during World War II and she endured terrible conditions and witnessed horrific things. And it birthed in her resiliency. After high school, she moved to a different country and had to learn a new language and navigate a new culture. Her resiliency grew. She married a man from another country and they built their life together on the euphoria of young love and the pain of prejudice for being a mixed-race couple. Her resiliency solidified further.

Later she became an engineer and was often the first woman in her company to ever hold that position, which made her the target of both admiration and sexism… and yes, she became more resilient. Years later her ability to endure and overcome served her well as she battled a rare cancer. Indeed, through chemo and surgery and radiation, she was resilient.

Now she shifts on her burgundy tweed sofa and I can tell her back is still hurting from a recent fall. But she smiles. I know if I ask how she’s feeling she’ll give me the same answer she always gives, “Everything’s hunky-dory. I can’t complain!”

But the truth is, she could complain. (We all could complain, and often do.) She could complain about being lonely and not running or painting or traveling like she used to. She could complain about missing family across the globe and never being able to have children of her own. She could complain about how our street hasn’t been repaved in more than a decade or how California taxes just keep going up.

Instead, I look at my neighbor, who has become a friend who feels more like family, and I see a woman with deep wrinkles and papery skin who has chosen gratitude over grumbling and resiliency over resentment.

Her life reminds me that I can choose this beautiful narrow path too.

“I say my prayers and thank God every day. Life is an adventure,” she tells me. “You’ll meet a lot of interesting people and you won’t believe where life will take you if you’re not afraid of a challenge. I never took the easy path, and I was always grateful.”  

Her eyes still twinkle beyond decades of great pain and sorrow, great joy and adventure.

I imagine Jesus sitting next to her on the textured couch, eyes twinkling too. I imagine Him beaming when she tells a story that tickles her memory and brings forth a school-girl laugh. I imagine Him bowing His head and tearing up when her mind flickers back to seasons of agony and heartbreak.

And I imagine Jesus leaning in close saying,

Yes, in all things my Father works for the good of those who love Him. (Romans 8:28)

Yes, daughters, do not grow weary or lose heart. I endured the cross so you can endure whatever you face. (Hebrews 12:1-3)

Yes, don’t give up! In me you will never be overcome or crushed. Affliction and persecution will come but in Me you’ll find unending joy and unconditional love. (2 Corinthians 4:7-18)

In my mind’s eye, I look at Jesus and I know He isn’t advocating for us to shove hard things under the rug or slap on a mask of false positivity. No, He’s offering us the truth:

When we rely on God all things really are possible – and our capacity for resiliency is just one example.

We can allow disappointment and bitterness to choke out our zest for life and trust in God. Or we can let life’s hurdles and hardships be like arrows pointing us deeper to the heart of Jesus.

We have a Savior who knows every manner of suffering… and is living truth and proof that difficulty and death are not how the story ends.

Consider this and feel free to share in the comments:

  • What would it look like to allow your suffering to increase your resiliency?
  • How might God want to use your resiliency to increase your joy and encourage others?

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Want to Know How She Does It? She Listens to the Holy Spirit

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I want to know how Elizabeth stayed in seclusion for five months when she was pregnant with John the Baptist. What prompted her to disappear that long? What empowered her to make a decision such as that?

I wonder how the widow with oil willingly let her sons go into the town, knocking on doors and asking neighbors, known and unknown, for empty jars. How did she find the faith to follow Elisha’s advice? How did she push past the grief of losing her husband and the simultaneous guilt of nearly losing her sons? How did she find that sudden surge of strength to sell jars and jars of oil and pay off her debt, though there was much to despair of?

And, was it surrender, or strategy, or the Spirit of God when Jochebed, mother of Moses, set her baby boy in a basket along the bank of the Nile, only to watch him be seen and soothed and saved by Pharaoh’s wife?

I want to know . . . have to know.

Because, when I skim through Scripture, I see story after story of what seems like women making definitive decisions in the middle of difficult dilemmas. I know, just as well as the next woman, that there is more than meets the eye when it comes to making courageous choices amid life’s complex circumstances.

What will I tell my sons, one week from today, when all of our boxes and belongings are packed up and stacked away in storage? How will I convince them that all will be well, even though the decision to move came from merely listening to a nudge?

A notion.

A knowing.

An inkling.

A feeling.

How do I tell my kids — and the curious, caring family and friends surrounding us — that we are stepping out in faith and risking rootedness, routines, and relationships for a good ending that isn’t even guaranteed?

I am between a rock and a hard place. Bills are begging. My marriage needs mending. The future for my family feels far and unsure. We need rest, we need a reset, we need restoration. Still, while I wait on God, I am moving forward in faith and trust. Daily, I am desperately seeking His guidance — but also? Best believe I am making decisions that feel right in my gut.

I am the widow with oil, unreservedly stepping into new skills. I am Elizabeth, unapologetically retracting and releasing the fear of my motives being misunderstood. I am Jochebed, torn over letting some beloved things and people go, and yet somehow still trusting in a promise I can’t yet see or say for certain.

Seven months ago, when the air was cold and frigid, my friend, Kate, preached an Advent sermon that arrested my attention and sank deep into my bones. Of the Annunciation, she preached about the moment just before Mary says, “I am the Lord’s servant… May your word to me be fulfilled” (Luke 1:38 NIV).

What comes in the moment just before Mary’s compliance, however, is a question: “How will this be,” asks Mary, “since I am a virgin?” (Luke 1:34 NIV).

Mary asks a quintessential question, one quite like our own — not simply a why, but rather a how. Not merely a want to know the probable, but a need to know the practical.

The answer to this question, and all of life’s how questions? My friend Kate says this: “It will always, still, ever and only be . . . the Holy Spirit.”

Want to know how Elizabeth did it? She was filled with the Holy Spirit. And the widow with oil? She listened to Elisha, a man of God filled with the Holy Spirit. I have to believe Jochebed was filled with the Holy Spirit because she had a supernatural power to really see and save her son.

Want to know the way you and I will know how in all we say and do?

It will always, still, ever and only be . . . the Holy Spirit.

Someday, a year from now, when I pull our boxes out of storage and settle into a new home, I will look back and remember how courage and clarity came when I chose to listen to the God-whispers stirring within my heart. I will remember how divinely God intervened in every desire, decision, and dilemma. A little nudge here, a messenger and a promise, or two, there. . .

There won’t always be a roadmap or guidebook giving all the right answers. There won’t be writing on the wall or a blueprint mapping out the intricate details of God’s plans and promises.

But . . . there will always, still, ever and only be the Holy Spirit. He, my dear friends, is how we will do every hard and holy thing.

Pray This Prayer:
Teach us how, Lord. Not simply how You’ll do it — but how we can and should. Teach us to listen to our hearts, Lord, where You humbly make Yourself at home. Teach us to listen to those nudges and notions. Those rooted knowings. Those fleeting feelings. Those inexplicable inklings. You are ever leading as we lean in and listen to You. Amen.

Friends — I’d love to hold space for any pressing situations or difficult decisions you’re currently facing. Comment below and share a little bit about what you’re going through — I’d love to encourage you.

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

At Last Your Love Has Come Along

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My husband has never been the most romantic of men and he knows it. But all I know is that after our first date of thin crust pizza and an animated movie, I involuntarily started singing At Last by Etta James as I walked towards my car at the end of the night.

If you know the rest of the lyrics, you remember that Etta serenades us with the revelation that her love has come along. But how could that be happening for me after one date — and if I’m being honest — after avoiding the guy I’d initially embarrassed when he first asked me out three years before? How could love be coming along for us when we came from totally different spheres, educational backgrounds, ethnic origins, and definitely different countries?

As the single pastor on staff at a large church, I was often teased that my husband would come rowing from a far-off way, since apparently he couldn’t be found in the congregation or community of Huntsville, Alabama. I guess they were right in a way since he stepped off a plane from Iceland in 2002 and worked himself so deeply into the community that he found home and became a home for many. It is that sense of belonging and safety I felt when I was around him. It is what drew me and romanced me because he was joyful and passionate and steady… and everything I needed.

All these layers of difference and belonging, of culture and home, ebb and flow within the pages of my debut novel, Her Part to Play. The main characters, Adanne and John, couldn’t be more unalike, and I haven’t even started on the initial dislike that permeates their first meeting. Yet, a new thing starts to spring forth for the both of them — something unexpected, yet longed for. 

“See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.“
Isaiah 43:19 NIV

I recall the times I bemoaned what seemed to be seasons of wilderness and wasteland, not even considering that the desires of my heart could spring up from those places. But isn’t that the way of our Lord? We may have been wandering or thirsting for so long that the breakthrough we’re waiting for seems to come out of nowhere and yet is exactly what we need. A longed-for surprise, a severing of old ways to make way for the uncomfortable, yet comforting new.

Adanne is a hometown girl from a small town in Alabama, rooted in her family’s culture and legacy. What does she have to do with this Hollywood actor filming his next movie — and revamping his dwindling career — in her beloved Hope Springs? John is everything she doesn’t want and her town is the last place he wants to be. Yet, perhaps what they need may be closer than they know, revealing their core desires for safety, authenticity, and home. Adanne and John discover much of this and more throughout their story and in the intricacies of their interactions.

“I guess it’s time to film my part before I look for someone to play this part.” 

John waved the phone at her before stashing it in his back pocket. 

Adanne folded the cape and held it to her chest. 

“Well, if I see someone eligible around here, I’ll be sure to send her your way. Maybe . . .” Her words were tentative, as if offering a wobbly olive branch with her coming suggestion. “Maybe what you need is a small-town woman who isn’t caught up in all the glitz and glamour.” 

Adanne carefully placed the cape on the empty chair in front of her, wiping imaginary dust from the seat back with her slender fingers. His breath hitched for the slightest moment at the compassion in her eyes. 

“Maybe someone down-to-earth will be less likely to make you fall . . . and break your heart.”
(Excerpt from Her Part to Play)

New situations and new seasons might be new doors God is opening for us, but they could also be what was there all along — once we are free enough to have eyes to see.

The day Etta’s song lyrics flitted through my mind wasn’t the first time my husband tried to pursue me. I won’t dig into our miscommunication and mishearing of accents and how I invited a group of co-workers to a date that was just meant for two. But even though I didn’t initially perceive it, a new thing was still on its way for me. A romance of Godly proportions was springing up for me despite the years of distance, despite the voices of inner doubt and fear, and amid the differences that should have hindered but instead brought us together. 

As I hummed under the setting sun that day, I leaned in to listen to the serenade of the Father who declared that, yes, home can be found here too. 

What new thing is God revealing in your life, despite the obstacles that say otherwise?

Her Part to Play is Jenny Erlingsson’s debut novel and is described by Library Journal as “warm, funny, and faith-filled.” This “endearing romance,” according to Publisher’s Weekly, focuses on Adanne, a woman who accepts a last-minute job as a makeup artist for a movie that’s filming in her small Alabama hometown. But the money hardly seems worth having to face the actor who got her fired from her last job in Hollywood. Sparks fly on and off the set, but will either of them follow the pull of their heart and find belonging with each other despite the differences that could pull them apart?

Award-winning author Patricia Raybon describes Her Part to Play as a “sparkling, stunning debut” featuring “a modern romance with old-fashioned courage and depth.”

Her Part to Play is a perfect read for the summer and is available now wherever books are sold. . . but leave a comment on this post and you’ll be entered to WIN* a copy for yourself!

Then join Becky Keife this weekend on the (in)courage podcast for a conversation with Jenny about this very special debut novel. Don’t miss it!

*Giveaway open to US addresses only and closes on 6/23/24 at 11:59 pm central.

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Body Doubling: Finding Strength in Community as the Body of Christ

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In my role as a coach to writers and other creatives, I employ a variety of techniques to help my clients grow. I teach goal setting and other productivity strategies, but I have come to find that almost nothing I advise is as effective as one simple technique: body doubling.

If you are not familiar with the term (and don’t worry, I wasn’t either a couple of years ago), body doubling is a strategy used primarily in the ADHD community. When a project seems too difficult, being in someone else’s physical presence (even virtually) while you complete it helps you better accomplish that task.

In my mastermind group, we get together virtually every morning for an hour, say what we’ll be working on, and then reconvene at the end of that hour to share our progress. We turn off our microphones, and sometimes our cameras, and just work. And for some reason, we all get more done than if we had tried to do the work on our own.

A few years ago, I don’t think I would have tried body doubling. I have always been convinced that my problem has been laziness, and if I just buckled down and really pushed myself to work, I could finish my tasks.

One of the big lies that we have been told in our culture is that you somehow earn extra gold stars if you do it all yourself without help. It’s okay to be the helper, but to be the one who needs help — well, that’s just not a good look.

But what I’ve learned is that I need community more than just about anything else in my life, and not just on an emotional and spiritual level, but also in practical aspects like my work, managing my home, and serving my people.

The New Testament implores us to keep meeting together, to hang out together, and to do life together. It makes sense for the spiritual parts of our lives, but it is also critical for the practical.

“And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.”
Hebrews 10:24-25 ESV

We meet together for love (the spiritual) and good works (the practical).

When we gather together (online) for our group time, we start by sharing a little bit of what’s gone on in our lives since we last met. Sometimes, one of our members has had a hard day. Another wants to share a win. And we love on and encourage each other. Then we share what we want to accomplish in the next fifty minutes and get down to business. At the end of our time, we come off of mute, share what we accomplished, and promise to meet together tomorrow.

There is something so encouraging in knowing that there are other people “in the room” who are cheering me on and are there to witness the work. People who are invested in my win as I am in theirs.

If you have spent too much time trying to go it alone, grit your teeth, and just get through it, try these techniques to see if God’s design for community can help you check some things off your to-do list:

  • Struggling with that report at work? Ask a coworker to sit in the conference room with you for an hour, and while they work on their spreadsheet, you knock out that report.
  • Working from home? No problem. Jump on a Zoom call for an hour with a friend or colleague. While both of you are silently working, you will stay more focused just because you know the other person is there.
  • Need to clean out a closet at home? Ask your husband to sit in the room with you and go through his tech box that he’s been needing to go through, or do it with a roomie who needs to clean out her email inbox. You both will get more accomplished.

God’s design for community didn’t stop at church attendance. He designed us to need each other.

In a world that often glorifies self-sufficiency, let us have the courage to embrace God’s design for community, recognizing that by working together and supporting one another, we can not only accomplish more but also experience the joy and fulfillment that comes from living life as it was meant to be lived.

Discover the unexpected joys of community and homesteading in The Accidental Homesteader. This humorous and inspiring book shares hard-won wisdom to help you accomplish more, gain fresh perspective, and find contentment wherever you call home.

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

So Great Is His Faithful Love

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1 My soul, bless the Lord,
and all that is within me, bless his holy name.
2 My soul, bless the Lord,
and do not forget all his benefits.

3 He forgives all your iniquity;
he heals all your diseases.
4 He redeems your life from the Pit;
he crowns you with faithful love and compassion.
5 He satisfies you with good things;
your youth is renewed like the eagle.

6 The Lord executes acts of righteousness
and justice for all the oppressed.
7 He revealed his ways to Moses,
his deeds to the people of Israel.
8 The Lord is compassionate and gracious,
slow to anger and abounding in faithful love.
9 He will not always accuse us
or be angry forever.
10 He has not dealt with us as our sins deserve
or repaid us according to our iniquities.

11 For as high as the heavens are above the earth,
so great is his faithful love
toward those who fear him.
12 As far as the east is from the west,
so far has he removed
our transgressions from us.
13 As a father has compassion on his children,
so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him.
14 For he knows what we are made of,
remembering that we are dust.
Psalm 103:1-:14 CSB

We know Father’s Day can stir up a wide range of emotions. Joy and gratitude for some. Grief and disappointment for others.

We also know that God cares for all our emotions and experiences and is faithful to meet us wherever we are today.

And, we know that God is the Good Father we’ve always needed. His compassion never fails. His love never ends. His forgiveness is boundless. His goodness and grace are more than we could think, ask, or deserve.

May we spend time today meditating on the character of our Heavenly Father, remembering His benefits, and blessing Him with all our souls.

What attribute of God stands out to you from today’s Scripture?

God Welcomes Our Grief and All of Our Questions

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One day, I was frantically scouring my kitchen drawer, desperately hunting for a can opener.

When I found it, suddenly, a bittersweet wave of melancholy engulfed me. In a daring display, grief audaciously barged into my day, casting a somber shadow into the depths of my mind. How could a simple can opener have such power to trigger me?

In a fleeting instant, I found myself reminiscing about a treasured memory of my dear friend, Christina. The memory unfolded to the time she was on her way to my house to pick me up for church. She called and said, “Hey, don’t judge me for this, but . . . can you bring your can opener with you?” She told me she made coffee and wanted to add evaporated milk to it. When she finally arrived, I got into her car and handed her the can opener. “Girl, how old is this thang?” she asked, jokingly.

She always had a way of making me laugh . . .

As my kitchen became a stage, and this recollection of her unfolded, I could hear the faint echoes of her laughter over the low hum of the fridge. I couldn’t help but chuckle when the thought crossed my mind of her asking if my can opener was from the 1800s. She promised that she’d replace it with a modern one, but she never got a chance to. It’s crazy how there were so many things we planned, yet she never had the chance to accomplish those plans.

I can recall the day my dear friend passed away — I was awakened by the gentle movements of my daughter in my womb. I was filled with pure joy as I counted down the final two weeks until my baby girl’s arrival. I was also blissfully unaware of the phone call that would soon shatter my happiness, leaving me utterly devastated. Seven years later, the anniversary of her death still brings memories of the heart-wrenching phone call.

After Christina’s passing, my phone rang incessantly, as friends and family reached out to express their condolences. Most of the calls began with an awkward silence, followed by expressions of sympathy and well-intentioned advice, such as, “Try to find strength for the baby,” and, “Don’t question God.”

I didn’t know how to be strong, and I had so many questions accompanied by anger.

For six grueling months, I tried to suppress my grief and curiosity. I shifted my focus to navigating motherhood for a second time. Yet, I found myself juggling grief and joy, unsure of how to fully embrace their coexistence. The depths of my anguish ran so deep, it silenced my prayers. I submitted to the deception that my prayers didn’t matter, and I thought if I questioned God, it would be a daring and audacious betrayal.

My pastor preached a sermon that impacted me and allowed me to confront my grief. Later that day, I had a conversation with God in the privacy of my bathroom. It took me a while to utter the questions I suppressed for so long, but when I did, I was consumed by a surge of emotions. It was as if a mighty wave crashed upon the shores of my consciousness, leading to thought-provoking questions. God, why did she have to die? Didn’t we have great faith? Did she do something wrong? Why didn’t You heal her? What’s the reason for this?

My grief demanded answers and it ignited a profound curiosity within me. Yet, God met me where I was and He welcomed my pain and questions. 

For so long, I was taught not to question God and I thought doing so was inherently wrong. But then, I discovered that God actually embraces curiosity . . . and I was relieved to know that God welcomes our questions.

This encounter that I had with God awakened another memory I had with Christina. I had taken her to the emergency room because she was nearly unconscious. Intravenous fluids were administered and, after twenty minutes, I heard her mumbling under her breath. “It’s not worth it,” she whispered. “Let it go, let it go.”

As she gradually regained her strength, she raised her voice and said, “Forgive . . . forgive.” In the moment, I was confused. But, in looking back, I believe God helped me recollect that memory to show me that He was dealing with her heart at the time. After pondering this, God led me to Isaiah 55:8, “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways.”

In fact, God showed me that He heard our prayers. While we were praying for physical healing, He saw it fit to heal her heart and allowed internal healing.

When faced with the inevitable trials of life, it’s important to remember that God never promised life would be without suffering. Oftentimes, during these trials of suffering, our curiosity is sparked . . . compelling us to seek answers and understanding. Beauty lies in not having to suppress our emotions and deepest questions. Instead, we can find solace in respectfully approaching God with our questions, knowing that He is always ready to listen and provide guidance.

Let Us Thank Our Heavenly Father For His Love

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Today is different from any other day I’ve ever experienced.

In just hours, my family will lay my dad’s remains to rest after a quiet church service. Eighteen months ago, I moved my parents from their small farming community to live near me in Kansas City. My mom needed help caring for my dad. Dementia stole his memory, while Parkinson’s disease stole his mobility.

He was confined to a wheelchair and his rugged Levi jeans were replaced with diapers. But, unlike many end-stage Parkinson’s patients, Dad was still able to swallow . . . which meant he was able to eat. We were so grateful for this answer to prayer.

His ability to eat was no small thing. Dad thought everything was better with bacon, which he loved about as much as he loved my mom’s chocolate chip cookies. In fact, the last thing he ate the day before he left this earth was an entire sheet of cookies straight from the oven.

Remembering this brings us joy, even on this painful day. Tucked between hard memories are these soft pillows of goodness, a comfort for our hearts as we grieve. The quiet minutes before I leave for the church offer more pillows of goodness — a chance to remember all God’s blessings during this hard journey. 

Maybe you aren’t facing end-of-life issues for yourself or a loved one, but perhaps you’re facing end-of-marriage issues. Maybe you’re not physically sick but you’re worried sick over a wayward child. Perhaps you aren’t mourning the death of your dad but you’re mourning the lack of a dad for your children. Perhaps your father or your child’s father was, or is, absent due to separation, substance abuse, or health issues. Maybe it’s because of work demands, misplaced values, or mental illness.

At times, each of us will face something unbearably difficult. In John 16:33, Jesus says that we will all go through hard times. Yet, He also promises to give us everlasting joy, reminding us that He has overcome this pain-filled world. The loss of my dad? That qualifies as a trial — and so does whatever you’re facing today. Friends, I know this hard season may last for a while, and I know that I need to lean on my heavenly Father and His promises. So, I’ve bookmarked Psalm 136, and have welcomed its twenty-six verses to give me twenty-six reasons to give thanks for God’s faithful love. You’re probably familiar with the first verse: “Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good! His faithful love endures forever.” Psalm 136:23 is my favorite verse: “He remembered us in our weakness. His faithful love endures forever.”

Throughout my life, my dad was a pillar of strength whenever I was a puddle of tears. Now that he’s no longer here, I’ve been feeling weepy and weak. Although, perhaps, “weak” isn’t quite the right word. I think the better word is “weary.” As I’ve kept myself busy with all the tasks associated with a loss like this — partly out of necessity and partly out of an attempt to distract my bruised heart — I’ve become worn down. Maybe you’ve been there, too, whether because of a death or a move or a job change or the end of a relationship. Between being busy and deeply sad, we can end up so shaken and weary.

When this happens, God invites us to lean on Him . . . to accept the peace that surpasses human understanding. This is what is promised in Philippians 4:6-7: “Don’t worry about anything; Instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need and thank him for all he has done. Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus.”

When we feel weary, we need God’s Word to empower and remind us that we are more than conquerors. Those seasons when we feel weary with grief and exhaustion are exactly the times we most need to remember God’s promises: 

Friends, if you’re in the middle of a hard season today, I encourage you to rest your soul and join me in thanking our heavenly Father for His love and constant presence. I pray we can remember His truth even when we are weary and our world is shaken. Let us thank Him for being our Daddy, our Abba, who invites us to rest in His love until we rest in His arms.

Listen to today’s devotion at the player below or wherever you stream pods.

We Are Made Free to Love, Not Judge

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She sipped her tea, then set the cup down and asked, “Do you think it really matters in the big scheme of things?”

I stared back at her while clutching my coffee cup, realizing just how worried I’d become.

Having grown up with multiple moves from one state to another, and then even overseas and back, I constantly felt like I didn’t know what the rules were wherever we landed. I was always playing catch up — always breaking rules without meaning to, always feeling like there was another unspoken rule I’d missed. All the while, I held an enormous amount of rules in mind that transcended continents and cultures.

It wasn’t that I hadn’t learned any rules – there were just so many. And on the surface, they often conflicted with one another. Everywhere I went, the rules changed. What was important to say or do in one place was laughable in another. What held weight and meaning in one city, went unnoticed in another.

For example, in Korean culture, no one cares if you eat with your mouth open. Food is a love language and food is often shared. I grew up with my mom feeding me to say she loves me. My mom grew up knowing what it was like to be hungry. Small rules about whether one’s mouth is open or not seem silly with that context in mind. To prohibit any expression of love would be considered cold and rude. However, in Euro-centric settings, it’s heavily frowned upon to chew with one’s mouth open. To do so is considered something that makes others uncomfortable and therefore, it’s inhospitable.

I could list a million more examples from shoes to the right way to eat noodles. When you are an American who embodies more than one culture and was raised with values from more than one place and people group, as many Americans are, it can be difficult to decide what rules to follow. For me, it’s been tempting to throw out everything or to pick one way over the other, which ultimately leads to communicating that one people group or culture is better than another. And that can lead to even bigger problems in the long run.

I looked back at my friend that day over breakfast, and said, “I guess I’m worried that I’ll be judged by one group or another, according to their rules.”

As I said this, I thought about all the times Jesus was asked about the rules, whether with honest intention, curiosity, or ulterior motives. In response, Jesus often surprised those who questioned Him. Instead of affirming a hard and fast rule or condemning one group of people over another, Jesus told stories or directed His listeners to examine their hearts and His own.

When asked about the specifics of the law by those who prided themselves on their knowledge of it, Jesus led them back to His heartbeat.

One of their religion scholars spoke for them, posing a question they hoped would show him up: “Teacher, which command in God’s Law is the most important?”

Jesus said, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your passion and prayer and intelligence.’ This is the most important, the first on any list. But there is a second to set alongside it: ‘Love others as well as you love yourself.’ These two commands are pegs; everything in God’s Law and the Prophets hangs from them.”
Matthew 22:34-40 The Messsage

Instead of picking a side or staying stuck in my cycle of worry over being judged, I moved in my mind to sit at Jesus’s feet. Jesus doesn’t ever ask us to choose a side or prove who’s on the right or wrong side. He tells those who judge to drop their stones, examine their hearts, and go home.

I left breakfast that morning a little lighter, a little more aware of the nearness of Jesus and the freedom I have to love with my whole heart and let that be my guide – it was enough.

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

Is the Playlist of Your Life Building Up or Destroying?

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It’s easy to walk into a room and bring with me whatever it is that I’m thinking about. I can carry in joy on a sunny day because I’ve been driving with the windows down and my favorite tunes have been playing on my way to wherever I’m going. I can just as easily carry darkness and frustration if somebody cut me off or my air conditioning wasn’t working or someone said something to me that got me in a weird headspace.

We are real people full of real feelings and while that isn’t a bad thing in and of itself, I think sometimes I let my feelings get a hold of me in a way that I might reconsider if I actually took the time to be considerate.

Years ago, I was on a call with some colleagues and one of them posed this very important question that I haven’t been able to get out of my head ever since: What is it like to be on the receiving end of me?

You see, when I walk into a room and I bring all of my feelings, good, bad, or ugly, I’m not often asking that question. I’m not considering the fact that perhaps someone is having a bad day and I am making it worse by telling them how amazing things are going for me. I’m also not considering that perhaps someone is having a wonderful day and I’m about to bring them down by pointing out everything that’s going wrong. While our feelings are fleeting and we don’t have to let them totally control us, they still do have a way of coloring the world around us, don’t they?

On a podcast I was listening to today, the host brought up the fact that songs that are sad stream at much higher rates most likely because sad songs get listened to on repeat in a way that happy ones do not. When we are feeling big and challenging emotions, we tend to pull out our standby sad playlists and lean in hard to process.

Let’s be honest: there is something deep in our being that wants to amplify the emotions we are carrying. We want to nurture them and grow them. We don’t just want to be a little bit one way or the other, but we want to set a tone around us based on what we feel. If we are sad, the world is dark. If we are happy, the world is magic. No matter our state, the playlist must reflect it.

As a creative person, I understand this urge completely. I understand the desire that we have to live a life that feels authentic to our experience with depth and meaning. But sometimes, we don’t think about the collateral damage that our search for meaning may be creating. What if, while we are creating worlds in our mind of the perceived reality that we are walking through on a daily basis, we are actually inviting others into something that is not for their good? What if we are, in reality, encouraging cynicism or hopelessness or, to be fair, encouraging a fake happiness or pretend way about us that ignores the gravity of a situation?

When we engage with our friends, neighbors, or family members, we are not only bringing ourselves to the table, but also the messages that we are telling ourselves, the feelings we are cultivating, and the playlists we have curated that set the tone for each interaction. When I walk into a room and I have been festering in my bitterness, it not only affects my own heart but it actually could potentially infect someone else’s. Yes, we are all responsible for our own feelings and reactions and responses, but as sisters, we also belong to one another.

The Bible tells us in Ephesians 4 that we are members of one body and that even though we have different parts, we all come together for one purpose. I wonder what would happen if we saw our entrance into each situation or conversation or space as an opportunity to invite others toward goodness and beauty and Truth. What if we saw each connection point with another human as a way of existing honestly while also seeking out the best in others?

Friend, we do not walk into our days from a place of total neutrality. Everything that we do will do one of four things: it will exhort, explain, expose, or exploit. We can use our presence and our words to encourage someone and cheer them toward the truth. We can use our wisdom to help others understand something that perhaps they did not know about before. We can bring to light realities that may have gone hidden without their unveiling. And we can also manipulate, slander, and pull people apart in ways that are not healthy.

Psalm 139 talks about being so very honest with God that you’re willing to have him check your work, so to speak. The psalmist writes, “See if there is any offensive way in me!” Can you imagine that level of being known and called out?

And it doesn’t stop there. The next line is, “…and lead me in the way everlasting.” One translation (NCV) says, “Lead me on the road to everlasting life.”

We are at an intersection of life and circumstances, friend. And we’re sitting here, tunes blaring and heart pounding and shouting the lyrics of the songs we choose and we have a big choice to make: Will I use my words and my presence to build or to destroy? Will I explain or expose or exploit or exhort?

Here’s hoping we pause long enough to invite God to lead us on the road to everlasting life.

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

Don’t Let Old Jeans Make You Keep Looking Back

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I recently found my favorite pair of jeans from college. When I tried to put them on, I quickly realized they weren’t coming up past my thighs. I stared at the long mirror on the back of my closet door, examining the curves of my hips, the cellulite on my thighs, and the stretchmarks on my waist. This body wasn’t how I remembered it. Tears, anger, and frustration flowed as I peered at my reflection. 

Later that week, I was working with an older gentleman who needed physical therapy for weakness and balance. He reminisced about how he’d played college sports and how now his body was practically useless. I urged him to focus on his present abilities and how far he’d come in therapy. I encouraged him to honor his body for what it was today instead of comparing it to its past.

When I saw my old jeans later, I realized so much had changed in twelve years, including my pant size: marriage, a career, two babies, travel — I’d lived so much life! I decided to take my own advice and honor who I am today. I wouldn’t resent my body for not meeting an unrealistic goal or punish it through dieting. I would ditch the old jeans and stop looking back. Then I thought of Lot’s wife.

She was promised to be saved from destruction if she fled without looking back. Sadly, she looked back and turned into a pillar of salt. She had a guaranteed future, but she glanced back at what had brought her comfort instead of focusing on what was ahead.

Often the “glory days” or the “good ol’ days” make it hard to find contentment in the present. It’s hard to step into an unknown future when we live in the comfort of yesterday’s memories.

Friend, God’s not done with you. He isn’t disappointed that you’re different today than you were ten years ago. He wants you just the way you are, right now — cellulite and all. So, no more turning back.

“Forgetting what lies behind and reaching forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.”
Philippians 3:13–14 NASB

By Simi John, as published in 100 Days of Strength in Any Struggle

Today’s devotion comes from our book, 100 Days of Strength in Any Struggle. And it’s not too late to join our Summer Study! Every weekday from now until July 12, you can find encouragement and community in our private Facebook Group. Hop on LIVE at 9 am CT or watch the replay any time of day.

Find all the details here, or just head over to the Facebook group to jump in!

Still need a copy of the book? Grab yours at DaySpring.com, Amazon, or your fave book retailer.

We all need daily reminders that God is working in every struggle we face, and He wants to give us the endless strength of His presence and divine perspective. Let this be the summer you experience Him like never before.

TELL US:
1. Have you joined the Summer Study yet?
2. Do you have an old pair of jeans or a tendency to look back that you need to ditch?
3. What comes to mind when you hear the words, “God’s not done with you”?

We’d love to hear! And we hope to see you here!

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

Morning Will Come, But God Won’t Leave in the Night

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For ten minutes, I stared at my phone screen in awe as friends across the country shared pictures of the northern lights dancing in the sky. I scrolled, captured by the wonder, until an image from my own town filled the screen and suddenly I couldn’t get outside fast enough. Pulling a sweatshirt over my pajamas, I slipped my feet into sandals and stepped outside, eyes up, eager and expectant.

There was no denying the crystal clear shot of pink I saw online that stretched above my friend’s apartment rooftop mere miles away, a muted but still present surprise on a Friday night in Alabama. The northern lights traveled south, a sight many never have the chance to see, and my smile stretched wide as I hurried down the steps, ready to bear witness.

A deep, dark blue waited for me. Turning in circles, I pulled out the compass app on my phone to make sure that, yes, I was definitely facing the right direction. With hope still rising inside, I raised my phone to take pictures of what appeared to be an extremely ordinary evening sky. Maybe the colors would show when seen through the camera lens, I thought.

But still, nothing.

I waited, I watched, and eventually, I turned to walk back inside. The sky above was its regular nighttime blue, and instead of a rainbow, the captured images showed an oddly pixelated smear.

The wind caught my hair, strands blowing across my face, and I thought of my friend standing under the same sky. It’s wild, isn’t it? How two people can have a very different experience of the very same thing – a conversation, an illness, a celebration, even the northern lights. And it’s true, isn’t it, that grief can unexpectedly color a year and smear itself over absolutely everything yet remain largely unseen by the naked eye.

But as I zoomed in on the image, the strangest thing took my breath away. Two thoughts arrived in quick succession, one right after the other:

Man, that’s a bummer…

Huh, that’s kinda pretty though…

The tension of the two together surprised me more than the northern lights traveling south.

Disappointment and sadness understandably appeared, but curiosity and unexpected appreciation for the blurry beauty quickly followed. Like a pair of glasses with one near-sighted and one far-sighted lens, both had something to say but neither told the full story.

Don’t get me wrong, I’d prefer the rainbow and not the smear, the delight and not the disappointment. I’d rather receive the surprise of bright colors dancing in the sky than the deep, dark blue. After a decade of waiting and asking God to bring physical healing to a chronic illness… after thousands of prayers that God would restore the years the locusts have eaten… after hoping for a miracle for so very long… of course I’d pick that in a heartbeat, wouldn’t hesitate to choose the light and not the night.

What I’ve come to know, though, is that God is in the night too. He’s present in the blur and the smear, holding us close in the surprise we didn’t want and would never choose, looking at us with kindness as we lift our heads and look up with hope, helping us see the beauty that still is and always will be.

Maybe one day I’ll see the northern lights and I’ll be so amazed that I dance below the dancing sky. Maybe one day the longed-for answer to long-prayed prayers will arrive. For now, though, the assurance that God is with us in both – bearing witness to joy that can’t be contained and grief that’s mostly unseen, with us as we weep and as we rejoice – is manna for the day and a refuge in the night.

Psalm 139:12 (ESV) says, “Even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you” and Psalm 74:16 (NIV) declares, “The days is yours, and yours also the night.”

Scripture is clear: darkness exists. But the repeated promise remains: we won’t face the night alone.

It may seem like we’ve been waiting for morning for a very long time, but we have not been left behind or lost, forgotten or abandoned. His eyes remain on us, His presence ever with us, no matter how deep or long or dark the night.

One day not too long from now, the “night will be no more” (Revelation 22:5). But for now, for today and tonight and tomorrow, we can rest assured that yes, joy is going to come with the dawn… but God isn’t going to leave us during the night.

He sees us, and He will sing us through the shadows until morning arrives.

For more encouragement in the messy, blurry middle, pick up a copy of Kaitlyn’s book. Even If Not will help you shift from the suspicion that God isn’t kind or present to the truth found in Scripture: on every single page of the story, He is with us and working all things for good.

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

Encouragement for the Lonely Ones

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O Lord, you have examined my heart
and know everything about me.
You know when I sit down or stand up.
You know my thoughts even when I’m far away.
You see me when I travel
and when I rest at home.
You know everything I do.
You know what I am going to say
even before I say it, Lord.
You go before me and follow me.
You place your hand of blessing on my head.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
too great for me to understand!
Psalm 139:1-6 (NLT)

At the core of loneliness is often the idea that we are not known by someone. Even if we were in a crowd of people or with a group of friends, we can still feel lonely because we may not have a deep relationship with them or the time spent together didn’t foster the intimacy we ache for.

This is where Psalm 139 is a balm.

God knows our hearts and minds. He knows where we are and He knows our restlessness to be somewhere else. He knows our thoughts. So we are without words? He still understands. God goes before us, is with us, and assures us of His presence — His blessing on us.

When you are lonely, remember we have a God who knows us intimately and loves us wholly.

When the Noise of the World Is Overwhelming

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I live in a Los Angeles suburb with a small-town feel. You can’t enjoy a latte at Classic Coffee without seeing someone you know. But for all the quaint charm, I often feel achingly overwhelmed.

Life presses from all sides. I can’t seem to keep track of Little League schedules or who to drop where or when. I run to Walmart and remind myself to breathe in the congested aisles when fluorescent lights flicker and I start to feel drifty and can’t remember what’s on my list.

I live a beautiful, ordinary, busy life, but it sometimes leaves me feeling wrung out. I’m a sensitive person, and the incessant lights and noise and hustle make my soul weary. I struggle to stay connected to God and others when all I want to do is retreat into a quiet cocoon.

And God isn’t surprised. Instead, He invites me away. He beckons me to the trail. Just five minutes from our house sits a beautiful canyon. Tall pines, oaks with twisted branches, and lush ferns line the trail. I let my husband and sons walk ahead. I enjoy their laughter and banter. Then I block it out and listen to the insects I can’t see and the rustle of the breeze playing in the trees.

Here I don’t have to remember to breathe. I don’t have to check anything off a list or battle the busyness. Here I feel close to God. Praise and prayer pour out of my soul as my feet pad the trail. I remember that my weariness is welcomed and the God of the canyon is also Lord of my life.

When life is too loud or too rushed . . .
When you feel surrounded but all alone . . .
God knows.
He invites you to breathe. On a park bench, a sandy shore, or a shady trail, find a way to spend a little time in the beauty He made. Surely, you’ll find yourself praising His name.

“Sing a new song to the Lord!
Let the whole earth sing to the Lord!
Sing to the Lord; praise His name.
Each day proclaim the good news that He saves. “
Psalm 96:1–2 NLT

Today’s devotion comes from our book, 100 Days of Strength in Any Struggle. And it’s not too late to join our Summer Study! Find all the details here, or just head over to the Facebook group to jump in! Still need a copy of the book? Grab yours at DaySpring.com, Amazon, or your fave book retailer.

We all need daily reminders that God is real and He cares about our struggles. His comfort, support, and strength are available in abundance. Let this be the summer you experience Him like never before.

Celebrate Good Times, Come On!

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During our early years of marriage, my husband and I had an inside joke that when the going got tough, I’d lean into “more fun Schmidt.” I actively chose celebration as a way to call out God’s goodness and faithfulness in our lives, even when times were hard.

Recently our family snuggled on the sofas and reflected on what the Lord had done this past year. We voiced hope, expectation, and even apprehension for the upcoming season.

I always look forward to these times of open sharing with our adult children, but this time was different. A subtle role reversal shift occurred as I laid my heart bare. “I’ve lost a bit of myself.”

I went on to share, “I feel like I’ve lost a bit of my sparkle. I’m wondering how my Pollyanna, glass-more-than-half-full personality has slowly leaked out. You all know I love to laugh, have fun, and encourage others, but this year I don’t recognize that girl as much and I need to find her. I want to be Jennifer ‘More Fun’ Schmidt once again.”

Who wants their mom to admit that? 

The following week a friend called out to me in the church lobby.

“Jen, when we first met, I didn’t know your last name. Look how I added you to my contacts.” She showed me her phone which said, ‘Jen – my fun friend.’ She explained, “You bring the joy and the smiles wherever you go.”

The Lord uses all sorts of ways to get our attention and a lobby connection reminded me of my call to celebrate and embrace some fun. Regardless of how I feel, I am still His joy-filled daughter because His Spirit dwells in me. 

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” Romans 15:13

Throughout Scripture, the Hebrew translation for “celebrate” reminds us to rejoice, to praise, to sing, and to prepare a feast. But how does Jen “More Fun” Schmidt reemerge when celebration seems unrecognizable?

God’s Word instructs us to stop and remember. Remember what God has done. Remember that this season doesn’t last for a lifetime. Remember His faithfulness through all generations and celebrate His goodness – both personally and collectively.

Dance, feast, hope, rest, laugh, worship. Celebration looks different for everyone, but Christians should be an alleluia from head to foot, as Saint Augustine reminds us. Yet often, we aren’t known for fun and celebration.

I desire to be known as a joy giver.

This isn’t an instruction to dismiss or pretend our challenging circumstances aren’t relevant. Just the opposite. During a time of excruciating loss and suffering, the first recorded celebration began with the Passover. God delivered the Israelites from slavery, gave hope for the future, and then instructed them to continue celebrating throughout the year: a perpetual remembrance for all future generations.

“This is a day you are to commemorate, for the generations to come you shall celebrate it as a festival to the Lord — a lasting ordinance.”
Exodus 12:14 NIV

So in the process of leaning into Jen “More Fun” Schmidt, I chose to view celebration as a spiritual discipline. To celebrate in response and remembrance. To celebrate with rhythms of welcome, kindness, and encouragement to others. 

Celebration cultivates joy. Joy harnesses hope. Hope renews your soul and, amidst that renewal, your soul magnifies the Lord.

While I’d love to throw a real-life party for us all to have more fun, let’s create a virtual one in the comments. Will you let me celebrate and champion you?

Together as women of joyous celebration, I want to remind you what it feels like to have women in your corner who can’t wait to hear your good news. I am cranking up old school Kool and the Gang’s song, “Celebration” and kicking off the party because I don’t have enough fun. If no one else celebrates you this week, let us be those girlfriends who come behind you and throw a virtual party in your honor.  

Share your news. Please don’t be shy. You’re not bragging. Let’s shout from the rooftops the goodness He’s doing in your life. Celebrate a move or a milestone. Share your progress or potential, your promotion or perseverance. Let’s rejoice in an adversity that you’re turning over to Him. Let’s shout from the rooftops something fun or silly that you had the opportunity to experience. Nothing is too small. I’d love to laugh.

We need to hear the story of how the Lord is using your small steps; in turn, it will be an encouragement to all your sisters here. 

I’ll go first and meet you in the comments.

And imagine you hear the music and you’re singing with me… “Celebrate good times, come on! There’s a party going on right here, a celebration to last throughout the years. So bring your good times and your laughter too. We gonna celebrate your party with you.”

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

Overcome Rejection and Remember Who God Says You Are

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For years, I struggled with feeling abandoned, rejected, and unworthy. It was my parents’ constant neglect and ultimate abandonment that left a mark on me as a child. I have fought hard, with the help of prayer and therapy, to find healing from it all. 

The thought that I was never wanted has been my biggest struggle. I felt like my birth was an inconvenience to two individuals who didn’t want me and were now faced with the added burden of raising me. I often wondered explicitly about my mother’s thoughts and emotions around her pregnancy with me and my birth. She was just a teenager, and I couldn’t help but wonder if there was any part of her that wanted me or if I was the worst thing to happen to her. 

A few months ago, during a visit with my mother, she shared a story that touched, inspired, and surprised me. 

(Note: My relationship with my mom is layered and complex. There have been seasons where we didn’t communicate at all — either because of her choosing or mine. But I’ve decided that, with boundaries in place, love wins. I want to love my mother well now despite the heartache and grief in our past.).  

So as we sat across from each other at her beautifully decorated dining room table enjoying a soda, without any prompting, she opened up about her struggles with miscarriages and her strong desire to have a child, specifically a daughter. Against her doctor’s advice, she was determined to make her dream a reality. She shared that many years ago, during a Wednesday night women’s prayer meeting back in rural Guatemala, she was prayed for by another woman who stood in faith with her for a child. 

That night, my mother received a prophetic word promising her a daughter with many plans and purposes for her life. My mother shared that it was the best night of her young life. A promise, a blessing. 

A few weeks later, she confirmed that she was indeed pregnant. Months later, I arrived. A daughter. 

As she shared her story with tears in her eyes, she looked at me and said, “Ligia, you were prayed for, believed for, and wanted.” Those words echoed in my mind for weeks. 

I was prayed for, believed for, and wanted. I was a promise kept.

In the weeks following this healing moment, the Lord brought me to some life-changing realizations. The Lord helped me understand that I was not only wanted by my mother but also by the Creator Himself. Before I even existed, I was in His plans, and He had a specific purpose for my life (Ephesians 1:11-12).

I also realized that the devil had used my mother’s mistakes to label me with a false identity — one that I accepted because I failed to recognize that I am not defined by my experiences or others’ decisions towards me. Instead, I am defined by who the Lord says I am: a child of God, His daughter (John 1:12-13).

Lastly, I came to understand that even though my abandonment as a child was heartbreaking to God, it did not catch Him off guard. Our God is so intentional that He even knows the number of hairs on my head (Luke 12:7) and has collected all my tears in His bottle (Psalm 56:8). He is also sovereign and, even though He has the power to spare me from pain, He chose instead to step into my pain with me and through it gifted me a story that speaks to His salvation, healing, and redemption. 

We will likely encounter things we may never fully understand or find answers to. Pain and heartbreak can be so intense and profound that, at times, we feel like we can’t move forward. We may even feel like the world would be better off without us. I have been in that place, my friend, and I understand what you are going through. 

However, I can also confidently proclaim that Jesus is greater than all of it. 

The Creator of the universe wants you. He has plans and purposes for your life and wants to heal your pain. Please remember that your past does not define you, nor do your mistakes and failures or the mistakes and failures of others. You were bought at a price and are loved, seen, and heard by Jesus. 

You, too, are a promise given and a promise kept.

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

If You Ever Ask, “Shouldn’t I Be Farther Along by Now?”

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I’m sitting in a coffee shop on a lovely morning. I open my laptop and immediately feel my heart rate speed up. The day has just begun and I already feel behind. I worry I’m not doing enough, fast enough, and that somehow I’m messing up God’s will for my life. Shouldn’t I be farther along by now?

It feels vulnerable to share that here, yet I have a feeling I might not be the only one who’s ever felt that way. If that sounds like you too, let’s take a breath and tell ourselves something new:

You’re where you’re supposed to be, doing what you’re supposed to do.

That is true no matter how much pressure from social media you feel. It’s true no matter what expectations have been placed on you. It’s true even if you’ve messed up, taken detours, doubted yourself, and second-guessed your decisions a thousand times.

Let’s take a look at the story of the Apostle Paul in Scripture. He encounters Jesus on the road to Damascus, and surely he’s instantly launched into ministry, right? Not so much. Rather, Paul says, “After three years I went up to Jerusalem” and “Then after fourteen years, I went up again to Jerusalem” (Galatians 1:18, 2:1 NIV).

It took Paul almost twenty more years to officially start his God-given mission, even though he was clearly called.

At age twelve, Mary and Joseph found Jesus, “in the temple courts, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions. Everyone who heard him was amazed at his understanding and his answers” (Luke 2:46-47).

It took Jesus almost twenty more years to officially start His God-given mission, even though He was clearly called.

Scholars estimate David was between ten and fifteen years old when the prophet Samuel said this shepherd boy would be the future leader of God’s people. “The Lord said, ‘Rise and anoint him; this is the one’” (1 Samuel 16:12). Yet David would not become king of Israel until age thirty.

It took David almost twenty more years to officially start his God-given mission, even though he was clearly called.

As humans, we’re so often in a hurry. We want to do things now. But the God we serve has limitless time. He is the crafter of eternity. He does not worry about being early or late. He is not confined by seconds or minutes, hours, or a lifetime.

We can become obsessed with “wasting” time because we sense we have so little of it. Yet aren’t we part of eternity too? God knows what you’ll be doing a thousand years from now, a million, a trillion. Why should He be worried when you stop for five minutes to laugh with someone you love, to nap in the sun, to read a book, or to make soup?

God wasn’t concerned when the Savior of the world made a chair or a wooden spoon instead of preaching a sermon. He didn’t wring His hands when David wrote poetry in the wilderness. He didn’t tell the Apostle Paul to hustle when he still had healing to do from years of following a legalistic religious system.

Our great and tender God is not trying to force you to maximize your life. He is instead inviting you to intimacy with Him in every moment. His rhythm is one of love and grace at a pace that won’t destroy your soul. He’s not asking you to try harder or do more. He spoke the world into being — what trouble does He ever have with His to-do list?

You are not doing anything wrong if it seems like it is taking a long time to fully step into your calling even though you know what God wants you to do.

Jesus was perfect, and God’s plan for His life still did not move fast. David was chosen, and God’s will for him was still a long process not an instant event. Paul had a supernatural encounter that left him changed forever, and God’s ministry in his life still unfolded over decades not days.

God, from a human perspective, is often wildly inefficient. He cares more about eternity than efficiency. You can cast off the guilt you sometimes feel for not going far enough, fast enough. It is not from the Maker of your soul.

Breathe deep. Be where you are. Call it enough. It is an act of faith to trust you are where you are supposed to be today, doing what you are supposed to be doing.

If writing has always been a dream for you, it’s not too late. Holley’s online writing course will help you take your next steps! Learn more here.

Listen to today’s devotion below or wherever you stream the (in)courage podcast!