Welcoming Jesus into Your Heart and Home

Welcoming Jesus into Your Heart and Home

by

While they were traveling, He entered a village, and a woman named Martha welcomed Him into her home.
Luke 10:38 CSB

Don’t you just love a good dinner party?

After a warm invitation is extended and accepted, it’s time to pick out the menu and straighten up the home — fluff the pillows, sweep the floor, and set the table. Whether the meal is homemade or catered, it doesn’t matter. Because the most important part of the evening is simply when friends gather around the table and allow the conversation and laughter to flow as the night progresses.

Eventually, goodbyes are said at the door with promises to do it again soon. And even though we are left with a kitchen full of dirty dishes, we typically find that after opening our homes to others, our hearts are just as full as our stomachs.

Martha must have felt the same way when the time came for her to bid farewell to her cherished guests. As the head of the house that she shared with Mary and Lazarus, her sister and brother, Martha was certainly known for her hospitality in the village of Bethany. She was very much in charge and was willing to receive guests into her home, even if her guest of honor came traveling with a clan of twelve other men.

The gospel of Luke records that Martha welcomed Jesus into her home. She didn’t begrudgingly open the door for Him and His disciples. No. She wanted His presence to fill her home, and thus she swung wide open the door to host Him. As Jesus placed one holy foot and then another onto her property, did Martha feel the atmosphere shift? Could she feel the peace that only He provides permeate her home? Can you imagine what it must have felt like to welcome the Son of God into your home for a dinner party? I bet she never wanted to say goodbye to this special guest.

Perhaps the first time Martha opened her door to Jesus, she was curious to see if He truly was the Son of God, and perhaps you are wondering the same thing today.

In Revelation 3:20 (NLT), Jesus said, “Look! I stand at the door and knock. If you hear My voice and open the door, I will come in, and we will share a meal together as friends.” Jesus gives each one of us the same invitation. He stands at the door of our hearts and knocks, but it’s up to us whether or not we open the door and welcome Him into our lives.

He will not force Himself through the door, but oh, how He wants to have dinner with us! He, too, loves a good dinner party and wants to bring His peace and salvation as He comes to reside and rest in our hearts. But the question is, will we let Him in? It’s only when we wholeheartedly welcome Him into our day-to-day routines that we will truly find rest.

Is Jesus knocking at the door of your heart? If you’re honest with yourself, have you let Him all the way in? Even into your messy kitchen? What is holding you back from opening your heart to Him all the way?

Let’s Pray:
Jesus, what a privilege it is to take this walk of faith with You. I ask You to come and meet me as I commit to walk alongside Mary, Martha, and You. Reveal to me things that are keeping me from resting in You, and make known to me anything that is hindering Your peace from resting on me. I give You permission to come into every aspect of my life. I open the door of my heart fully to You — even the messy parts that I would rather remain hidden. Teach me to embrace a lifestyle that is authentic and transparent, knowing that with You I can be the best version of myself if I am willing to let You in. Today I resolve to hold nothing back, knowing that You didn’t hold anything back from me whenever You came to die for my sins. I declare that You are the Son of God, and it is my greatest delight to have You in my heart and home. There is nothing better than having dinner with You as my Savior and Friend. You are so very welcome in this place. Amen.

—

Resting in Jesus: A 30-Day Walk with Mary and Martha is a devotional guide by April Rodgers on the art of letting go of daily chaos to find perfect peace in Christ.

When our phones are pinging, children are crying, emails are pouring in, and the refrigerator is empty, finding time to rest in Jesus can seem like a near-impossible task. If we aren’t being productive, we feel like missing out and falling behind. But Christ invites us to sit at His feet, especially during our daily chaos.

The example of Mary and Martha offers us a picture of how God understands not only what we’re going through, but where our priorities really need to be. Resting in Christ is not a luxury, it’s a necessity… and it informs everything else that we do. This devotional will guide readers on the journey to discovering the art of being still before God — and releasing their cares to the One who cares for them.

We know Resting in Jesus will be a blessing in your life, or the life of someone you love.

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

Then join Becky Keife this weekend on the (in)courage podcast for a conversation with April. Don’t miss it!

 

Listen to today’s article at the player below or wherever you stream podcasts.

 

*Giveaway open until 11:59 pm on 2/25/24 to US addresses only. Winners will be contacted via email.

God Will Not Walk Away

by

Have you ever heard someone say, “I used to hate running, but I just kept going and now I love it!”?

That is not my story.

In January of 2022, I drove to my local trail, made sure the running app would sound an alert the very second I hit 1.00 miles, took a few deep breaths, and then . . . I ran.

I ran as fast as I could and I refused to stop, determined to see it through.

But this story goes back further, stretching to a December 2020 decision, the thread weaving through years and eventually finding its way to February 2024.

At the end of 2020, I set a daily step count goal for 2021 that felt, shall we say, daunting. Showing up for my people is a joy, but if I’m brutally honest, historically I struggle to show up for myself. The goal was doable, though. Difficult, but doable. Rain or shine, traveling for funerals or recovering from surgery, I didn’t miss a single day all year.

When 2021 came to a close and I wrote out unexpected gifts from the year, “walking” topped the list. The seemingly ordinary rhythm was actually so much more. It was a daily choice, a promise kept, an intentional showing up. Do I go for round two? I wondered. Or maybe I should set a new goal?

The idea arrived instantly and it sounded terrible: Run one mile fifty-two times in 2022.

For many, one mile is barely a warm-up. Again, that is not my story. My favorite thing about running is when it’s over. But it was the literal next step, a difficult but doable goal, one way that I could show up and choose hope right here in the body that I have – this broken, beautiful, strong body that struggles with a chronic health condition that impacts every single day.

Each week, I tied my tennis shoes and hit the pavement. Jordan Sparks sang “This is my now, I am living in the moment!” and I pumped my arms. Keala Settle belted ‘This Is Me’ from The Greatest Showman and I refrained from sing-shouting along as I counted the seconds.

Months later, I began another weekly rhythm: a new treatment that might turn things around, and heal what broke twelve years prior. I dared to get my hopes up and, for the first time, publicly shared part of the daily struggle.

By July, I knew it wasn’t working. By September, I knew it made things worse. Yet week after week, I ran while sweating and repeating, “One more step. Okay, now one more. I’m proud of you for showing up.”

Something in me needed to see that this breaking, hurting body could still show up with bravery for the next step and hope for tomorrow.

On December 16th, I ran mile fifty-two. I hit my fastest time, nearly four minutes less than where I began in January. I cried. I almost threw up. I could barely wipe the smile off my face.

Two rhythms wove their way through 2022, and I’m only sharing now to set the scene so this rings loud and clear:

No matter how broken or weary, worn down or disappointed or sad you feel . . .

Whether you recently crushed a goal or you feel like something is crushing you . . .

You are completely, absolutely, outrageously, fully loved. Just as you are, today, right now.

Yes, I’m proud of the girl who ran through 2022. She did what felt impossible, in a body that was breaking, and the running app tells the story. But more than that, I’m proud of the girl who ran exactly 0.0 miles in 2023. She kept showing up when her heart was broken, and she’s still here to see what story the next page will tell.

Maybe your 2024 is off to a great start. Maybe it’s February 19th and this year has already wiped you out. Or maybe you’re somewhere in between, taking small steps forward with hope and a heavy heart.

I don’t know what path you’re on — if you’re blazing a trail or if getting out of bed is today’s win — but I do know this: you are fully seen and fully loved right here, right now, no matter what.

Isaiah 40:31 makes this promise: “Those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint” (NIV).

For years, the order confused me. But after the last few years, I’m comforted by this truth: God is not disappointed in our pace. He’s just as near when we take a step toward a goal as when we slowly walk the trails we used to run while tears run down, creating a trail of their own.

He’s here, present, strengthening us for the day even when that’s all we can face.

The road may stretch on, but God With Us will not walk away. One step at a time, He’ll bring us all the way Home.

If today’s post resonated and you’d like more encouragement, Kaitlyn’s book Even If Not: Living, Loving, and Learning in the in Between will help you choose hope for tomorrow when today feels like a question mark.

 

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

The List You Need to Set Your Mind on Today

by

Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things.
Colossians 3:2 CSB

What do you spend your time thinking about? Your answer is probably a long list of hopes and dreams, fleeting worries and deep concerns, hard and holy and mundane things.

Maybe today you’re thinking about how challenging parenting is or how desperate you are for a different career. Maybe your mind is spiraling with anxiety or you just feel numb with depression. Perhaps you’re focused on your new year goals, hoping that your hard work and planning will pay off in a particular way. Perhaps you can’t think of anything else but your physical pain.

Whatever is going through your mind today, Scripture calls us to set our minds on things above, not on earthly things.

This begs the question: What is above?

Heaven.
God’s full presence.
His power.
His throne room where He hears our prayers.
The Father’s house with many rooms, which He is preparing for us right now.
A place of healing.
A place without tears.
A place of wonder and worship.
Forever belonging.
Peace.
Rest.
Perfect love.

Take a deep breath and read that list again. What would you add?

We don’t even need to answer the second question, “What are earthly things?”. We are keenly aware of our troubles and sorrow, the brokenness that surrounds us and wreaks havoc within us. God isn’t calling us to ignore these things or pretend they aren’t real or don’t have an immediate impact on our lives.

Rather, He is inviting us to set our minds — fix our thoughts, determine our focus — on Him, despite what’s happening here on earth. Because He is where our hope and joy live.

 

When Winter Outstays Its Welcome

by

Winter in New England is idyllic. The world I live in is reminiscent of L.L.Bean magazines and Robert Frost poems. November enters quietly with early morning frosts and snow flurries. December settles in comfortably with a white blanket on the cold earth, usually just in time for Christmas. January’s piercing blue skies make our northern snow globe sparkle. It’s pure magic.

But then February and March show up, and everyone is done with the snow turning brown on the corners of the road. The charm has worn off — we are tired of shoveling. Winter outstays its welcome . . . and we get antsy for warmer weather.

Almost six years ago, a white blanket of winter settled over my life. A chronic illness I’d battled for years avalanched into symptoms worse than I’d dreamed — and I was buried. I found myself shoveling an insurmountable world of snow, with nowhere to put it and no end in sight. As I looked around at my new reality, iced in by limitations that took away life as I knew it, I felt the pain. But I also felt the Holy Spirit near to me, a “very present help in trouble.”

Suffering is never idyllic, but the snow in that season of life still sparkled. God showed me how he flipped my suffering and used it for good. He used it in my friends’ lives as they watched my world crumble and wondered where my hope was. The spiritual conversations with classmates — and even strangers — were new and exciting as I pointed to Christ’s beautiful gospel. God sanctified me, pulling out sin tendencies and idols that we needed to burn.

He softened and sharpened me. He proved to me over and over that He could be trusted. He used my suffering to change my career path, inviting me into a ministry that fit the contours of my heart better than any of my prior plans. I was snowed in, but I could see the beauty of the storm. It held its magic. That was my November, December, and January . . . but it’s been five and a half years.

“God has taught me so much,” I told my pastor. “But I’m ready to move on.”

I want to drive long distances with ease again, have full days without resting, and be able to start a family. There are dreams unfulfilled that I’m reaching out for. I’m longing for warmer weather, normalcy, and healing. I am in March, shoveling dirty snow, and I just want to put down the shovel.

Perhaps you are in a season where suffering clings close, falling thick and fast like flurrying flakes. Perhaps you’ve been caught in an avalanche or ice storm. Are you in your November, just beginning to feel the earth harden? Are you in your December or January, shivering in the sea of snow but still seeing the sparkle? Or, like me, are you in the months that you expected to be spring, cursing the muddy snow that mucks up your life?

If you are longing for summer’s sun to melt the suffering of life, I see you. God sees you. And from one suffering saint to another, here is what I know right now:

I know that God mourns with me and catches my tears in a bottle.

I know that His comfort will carry me through even though I walk through the valley.

I know that God redeems suffering, and that all things work together for good for those who love Him. And . . . I also know that “my good” may not look like healing on this side of heaven. Even still, my greatest good is to be with God — and if my suffering pulls me closer to Him, then hallelujah anyway.

I know that nothing — absolutely nothing — will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus.

I know that God is the author of my story, and I fully trust Him with the pen because the beauty, depth, honor, and purity of the work He produces is so beyond what I could ever write for myself.

I know that I will one day be healed, and that God will wipe away every tear and death shall be no more.

Dear suffering saint, God is with you in the storm, keeping you safe and warm through all your seasons. He is, indeed, a “very present help in trouble.” When we throw down our shovels in despair, He looks us in the eyes with all the tenderness of a loving Father and picks it up Himself. It was never ours to carry anyway. . .

Join me in giving the shovel to God. You can rest in His strong arms; you can trust Him with your life.

Even in the winter, the warmth of His care is warmer than any summer day.

Why You Might Need an Identity Refresher

by

I didn’t think I had an issue with identity.

I’ve always been a pretty self-assured person, confidently marching to the beat of my own awkward drum. In elementary school, I liked wearing dinosaur tennis shoes and a pink neon tank top. Later, I was one of those rare creatures who actually liked middle school. I liked learning and boys and playing the trumpet in band. And I was blissfully unaware of how greasy my bangs were.

Not that I was without insecurities. In high school, I worried my skin was too pasty and my zits too many. I worried about pleasing people and performing well. Even so, I more or less knew and loved who I was.

Entering young adulthood and now into my forties, I’ve been lucky never to have had a crisis of faith or identity – save for those early years of motherhood where I felt like my existence had been reduced to a butt wiper and milk machine. (Yes, I love my children and believe it’s a privilege to care for them. Some seasons are just extra hard.)

But when it comes to my core identity, I’ve always felt confident in who I am as a person loved by God and created in His image. Like, check. Got it. Thanks, God. I’m good.

So when I was recently sharing with a friend about a deep struggle I was having with body issues, I was surprised when she told me that her sense from the Lord was that my issue actually had nothing to do with weight or aging but with identity.

Huh?

It felt very much like my issue had to do with the thirty pounds I’d gained and my feelings about that.

But over the days and weeks that followed that conversation, I asked the Lord to show me if there was something to this identity stuff. Bit by bit, through a podcast here and a Scripture there, God started unfolding new pieces to the puzzle of my soul.

I knew I was saved by God, but I was beginning to grasp in a deeper way how much I was loved by God. I was starting to understand that the way I see myself directly impacts the way I see God.

It’s true: What we believe about ourselves directly impacts what we believe about God. Do you believe that? Here are just two examples of how this shakes out:

  1. If I believe I am ugly or stupid, then I also believe that God made a mistake in how he made me.
  2. If I believe I’m loved because of how I look or what I accomplish, then I also believe that God’s love is conditional and not enough for me.

See how that works?

We have to ask God to reveal to us false beliefs about ourselves that have, often unconsciously, taken root in our hearts. And then ask Him to help us exchange those false beliefs for His truth.

A couple of weeks ago, I asked God to speak into my identity, to show me who He says I am. This is what I felt prompted to write in my journal…

I am God’s daughter. The King’s daughter. The Princess has the King’s divine affection. She has unobstructed access to Her Father. She knows His power but she also knows His love — for her, for His people, for His kingdom. There is no length the King wouldn’t go to to rescue His daughter. All He has is available to her; it’s her future inheritance and her present access. Why would the King’s daughter suffer and struggle and strive alone when she has FULL access to her Father’s resources, riches, and influence? But most importantly, access to the King’s wisdom, counsel, and support!

The King’s daughter knows the privilege, joy, and responsibility of being in the Father’s family — a royal and set-apart people. She is constantly aware of her princess identity. She continually looks to her Father; she is secure in His approval and delight over her. Even if everyone in the kingdom disagrees with or devalues her, the King’s blessing is all she needs.

Yes, His crown of blessing marks her identity. She is a beloved daughter — precious and protected — but she is also a royal warrior.

She holds the King’s shield and sword. She is marked by His seal. She wears His full armor. She is a formidable force against the enemy. No harm will come to her as the King and His powerful army stand with and around her. She never fights alone. Yes, she never even sleeps alone — her Father’s soldiers are always standing guard. What a miracle to be the King’s daughter.

That is who I am.

Friend, that is who you are too! If you’ve accepted Jesus as your Lord and Savior then you are a co-heir with Christ, an adopted daughter of the Most High King! Don’t just read those words. Let them really sink in. You have access to all that Jesus is and all that He has.

And above all, you are so, so loved.

“I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people, and his incomparably great power for us who believe.”
Ephesians 1:18-19 NIV

Need more help seeing yourself the way God sees you? Subscribe to Becky’s new podcast, Hope and Reason, where you’ll hear real stories of God’s real impact on our lives and be reminded of how deeply you are loved.

 

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

Embracing Endings for New Beginnings

by

I’ve often found it challenging to bid farewell to the familiar, especially in relationships. I have tended to wait until something terrible happens, providing me with an excuse to escape. Unfortunately, I learned the hard way that remaining in a relationship or community past its appointed season is debilitating.

For example, I chose to remain in a friendship with an ex-boyfriend after we’d ended our relationship. He invited me to attend a formal banquet event. I saw no harm in attending; after all, we were just friends. During the event, he invited me on stage and surprised me with a marriage proposal! I was livid. So as not to embarrass him, I accepted his public proposal. After the event, devastated, dumbfounded, and discouraged, I told him that I could not marry him. It was a long road to recovery that could have been avoided if I had completely let go when we ended our relationship.

You would think I learned my lesson. But no, I still had not learned to embrace endings. Later, I had a dear friend with whom I shared a sister-like bond. Over time, as my singlehood shifted into dating, marriage, and children, she became more bitter about being single. Projecting her frustrations onto me, our friendship warped into her consistently wanting me to mourn with her, as she found every excuse to avoid rejoicing with me. After years of this type of dysfunction, long past its expiration date, our messy friendship ended when I learned she was being disrespectful to my young daughter. 

It took an adult being ugly to my toddler for me to fully understand and embrace endings.

In the tapestry of our lives, seasons change, and chapters come to a close — even good chapters. It’s often difficult to bid farewell to the familiar, especially in relationships. The journey of letting go is a challenging but essential part of the human experience. But I have finally learned to see the beauty of endings in anticipation of the promise new beginnings bring.

“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing, a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away, a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak, a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace.”
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 NIV

This passage from Ecclesiastes beautifully captures the essence of life’s cyclical nature. Just as the seasons change, so do the seasons of our lives. Embracing this truth can be challenging, especially when we find ourselves holding onto relationships, a job, a role, a mindset, habits, practices, beliefs, or anything that has been good for us or served a special purpose. 

Endings are not failures; they are opportunities for growth. Just as a tree sheds its leaves in the autumn to make way for new growth in the spring, we too must go through a time of shedding to make room for the new beginnings that await us. 

During a challenging period, the prophet, Isaiah reassures the people of Israel that God is about to do something new in their lives. “Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. 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 43:18-19 NIV).

God encourages us to let go of the past as an indicator of things to come – to look forward to the new things He is doing in our lives. Embracing endings requires trust in His divine plan. Just as a gardener prunes a plant for it to bear more fruit, sometimes we need to prune certain things in our lives to make room for the new blessings that God wants to bestow upon us.

Nevertheless learning to accept and embrace endings has not made it easier to end my season with (in)courage. As I write this, my last (in)story, I am grateful that I no longer need trauma to prompt a release. Thank God! While letting go is painful, I can embrace this ending as a beautiful beginning. I would appreciate your prayers for my ‘new next.’

As you navigate the endings in your life, remember that God is with you, guiding you through the transitions. Release the fear of letting go and step into the hope of a new season.

Endings are not conclusions; they are the prologue to the beautiful story God is unfolding in your life.

Heavenly Father, give us the strength to let go when it is time. Help us to trust in Your plan for our lives, knowing that endings are the gateway to new beginnings. May we find solace in Your presence during times of transition and embrace the opportunities for growth that arise from letting go.

 

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

When the Stranger Danger Bunch Shows Up

by

I walked through our front door and my husband tentatively inquired, “Well, how did your evening go?”

An astounded grin spread across my face, “Won’t He do it! This was the craziest experience, but “Stranger Danger” night was a total success.”

Yes, you read that right. For the last three months, I’ve lovingly coined this new group of women as the “Stranger Danger Bunch.” On a random Monday night, I swung wide our garage (turned hospitality “barn”) door, and dozens of brave women representing varying social, political, religious, and economic backgrounds showed up at a complete stranger’s cottage in the country (mine).

How does that even happen? My crazy God story started this past November when my minimalist daughter encouraged me to part ways with old furniture. Our local area has a “Buy Nothing” Facebook group where strangers give, share, lend, and ask for what they want. It’s an online gifting movement and it felt wonderful to share my loved items with those looking for something similar. God’s perfect decluttering timing is critical to note since one day earlier or one day later, and I would have missed reading this short online request from a local lady.

“Would someone please teach me to crochet? I am very clumsy, but always wanted to learn…”

I don’t know why I paused. I don’t crochet. I don’t have the desire to crochet, nor time to crochet, but the bravery of a stranger sharing her vulnerable request for in-person help from an online world sparked something deep within me. Not only did I want to meet and hug this woman, but I yearned to be in the front row cheering her on. I’ve found compassion only becomes truly effective when it becomes collective and, in that instant, my dream was to be a crochet expert. But I wasn’t.

Scrolling by her request made the most sense, yet I couldn’t let it go. An ache echoed in her written wish and I wanted to make a difference.

Paul already knew the answer. “Here’s what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life — your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life — and place it before God as an offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for him” (Romans 12:1 MSG).

So what’s my offering in this request? I may not crochet, but I can warmly gather women in community, make connections, provide simple snacks, and be the best cheerleader ever. That’s something every single one of us can do. When we link arms and encourage other women (yes, even strangers), we encounter the Holy Spirit’s powerful force of living on a mission.

I preached to myself the words I penned in Just Open the Door: How One Invitation Can Change a Generation:

“He has called, equipped, and appointed us to do amazing things right where we are — in whatever role we work or serve. Look for those opportunities. Pay attention and seize those moments. At school, at the grocery store, with neighbors, or wherever, you have the opportunity to be the difference in someone’s seemingly ordinary day.”

So I seized the moment because this conviction created action. Passivity wasn’t an option.

“I don’t know how to crochet, but I have a gathering ‘barn’ where we can meet. I’m all about neighboring well and meeting new friends. I’d love to host you if anyone is interested.”

I expected two or three women to respond, but by the end of that day, twenty-eight women expressed interest. Gracious women I’d never met stepped up to teach and within days, that post had over one hundred comments. Women yearned for something more than just crafting, but this creativity served as the offering. Five days later, I opened the door to thirty-one women from ages twelve to eighty-four. Mothers and daughters, a few friend duos, but many came solo, lonely and hungry for connection.

As I made the inaugural welcome to the group, I raised my arms and broke the ice. “I’m so proud of us all. We are so brave for taking this risk. You’re my stranger danger bunch.”

What started as one Facebook request has evolved into a monthly community gathering of women helping and encouraging other women (and new people are joining every month).

I still shake my head in amazement over the life-giving stories taking place behind the scenes. It’s proof positive that the Lord has given us everything we need to walk a road of welcome in our everyday lives. It isn’t about popularity or personality. None of these women knew me. It was a total faith walk and while tempted, I couldn’t allow apathy or doubt to get in the way. We often overthink living on a mission. It’s about starting exactly with how God made you, right where He’s put you, right now because we can be the difference even with something as crazy as a crochet hook. No excuses. He’s up to something on this gravel road of mine and I’m hanging on for the ride.

P.S. If you’re in North Carolina, I’m saving you a seat at the Becoming Cottage. Next month, we’re learning about gardening, followed by painting, and then CPR. I’d love for you to meet this group of strangers turning friends or better yet, start your own Stranger Danger Bunch.

 

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

Jesus Is Our Rescuer

by

For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.
John 3:17 ESV

My career as a firefighter taught me that when something is on fire, the most important person is the one on the nozzle.

Sure, there are quite a few people involved in the operation, and the one on the nozzle can’t do it alone. A fire crew is like a well-oiled machine. There needs to be someone who unrolls the hose, someone who pumps water from the engine, and even someone ready to bust open a door with an ax.

But despite all that teamwork, I still say the one on the nozzle is the MVF (Most Valuable Firefighter). For the fire to die, there needs to be one person smashing it down with an incredibly powerful jet of water. The one holding the nozzle and directing the water has the power to completely transform a tragedy.

In my experience, it’s the same with Jesus.

There are so many “fires” in our lives. Losing a job. Dealing with chronic pain. A child who seems to be on the wrong path. Divorce. Cancer.

We can’t fight fires like that on our own. And we can’t always count on fighting those fires in community. Community is essential, but we humans are never perfect. Sometimes we let each other down. Sometimes we even betray each other.

Which is why we need Jesus. He’s the only One who will never let us down. I’ve seen Jesus battle fires in my life and the lives of others countless times. I’ve seen Him rescue people that no one else could have rescued. God’s rescue plan is right there in today’s verse! Our world is on fire. Our lives are on fire. And Jesus is the One on the nozzle, ready to smash down the flames. He’s the only One who can do it.

PRAYER
Jesus, help me believe, or at least want to believe, that You really are all I need.

—

We wear ourselves out looking for safety in all the wrong places — work, family, politics, achievement, money, relationships, and more. But when our hopes go up in flames, we discover how much we need a true Rescuer.

In the new devotional Jesus is All We Need: Devotions to Experience the Rescuing Love of God, decorated former firefighter Jason Sautel invites readers on a journey to discover a life-saving love that will never turn to ashes. Through Jason’s personal story, select Scriptures, key points, and prayers, readers can learn to find refuge in the one place they’ll truly be safe – the strong, rescuing arms of God.

We know this book will be a blessing in your life, or the life of someone you love.

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

Then join Becky Keife this weekend on the (in)courage podcast for a conversation with Jason. His story is powerful and the hope you’ll glean is palpable. Don’t miss it!

 

Listen to today’s article at the player below or wherever you stream podcasts.

*Giveaway open until 11:59 pm on 2/18/24 to US addresses only. Winners will be contacted via email.

When Life Brings Change, Here’s What You Can Trust Is Still True

by

I recently sat in front of my computer screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard. I needed to make a decision. Take a risk. Step into new territory. One “yes” is all it would take, yet I held back. I found myself craving the familiar, wanting safety, seeking assurance that I was doing the right thing. Have you ever done the same?

I don’t think we ever fully outgrow the fear that can come with a step of faith or an unexpected challenge. But I do think we can grow in our ability to be brave and move forward anyway.

Change can be hard. Yet everything we’re living today was once new to us. We walked for the first time. Said hello to someone we love for the first time. Showed up to work for the first time. All of those shifts likely came with a bit of fear, perhaps butterflies in our stomachs, questions, and uncertainties.

Of course, life brings harder changes too. Unexpected losses, expectations upended like a glass of red wine on a white tablecloth, promises broken — bullets through a stained-glass window. We’ve survived all of these so far too. We’re still here, breathing, reading these words. We got out of bed today (or at least picked up our phone and looked at the screen).

Sometimes the hardest thing about change is the unknown. Certainty is a warm blanket we wrap ourselves in as we curl up on the couch in front of the fire. But the not-knowing feels colder; it sinks into our toes, whispers that we might not have what it takes to pioneer this winter of our lives.

In those moments, here are a few things I need to tell myself over and over again:

You are fully loved, no matter what you do or do not do.

You are part of a plan that is bigger than you, and it is unfolding even now.

You have a purpose even when things don’t turn out at all like you might expect.

God is good and what I can know of His ways is like one grain of sand on a thousand seashores.

My story isn’t over yet, and I choose to trust the Author even when I don’t know what’s coming.

I don’t always like change — but it is also the door through which so many people I love, so many opportunities I’m grateful for now, and so many of the ways I’ve grown have entered my life.

I always feel nervous about change, but eventually, it becomes my new normal.

What would you add to this list?

I recently met two friends for coffee, and all three of us talked about unexpected shifts in our lives. Some personal. Some professional. All stretching us in uncomfortable ways. I said, “One of the only certainties in life is change.” When I remember this, it helps me resist change less, and instead expand to make space for it. The changes I’ve loved most and the ones I’ve hated have both led to growth. This doesn’t make me like change, but it does give me hope.

I don’t know what change you’re facing. If it’s an exciting one, I’m cheering you on and praying you have the courage to embrace it with all your heart. If it’s a painful one, I feel tender toward you as a human who has suffered too. And I’m praying you are given the comfort you need to sustain you in this season.

Most of all, in all the changes life brings, I hope you know deep in your bones the one thing that remains: You are loved — deeply, always, come what may. That is true forever, that is true today.

Does the change you’re walking through involve something hard in a relationship (friendship, family, work, or any other kind)? Then Holley’s new online course, Heal After You’re Hurt, might be just what you need! Learn more here.

 

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

A Prayer for When You Need Strength

by

My health may fail, and my spirit may grow weak,
but God remains the strength of my heart;
he is mine forever.
Psalm 73:26 NLT

Lord, thank You. Thank You that even as our bodies fail and our spirits break, our hearts can thrive because of Your strength. This world will falter and change. But You, Mighty God, remain faithful! You are the same yesterday, today, and always.

Thank You for Your steadfast presence. Thank You, Jesus, for being Immanuel — God with us. Thank you, Holy Spirit, for making Your home in our hearts. As You dwell in us, help us to dwell in You.

Father God, You have chosen us as your forever children. We choose you forever too. Amen.

 

 

Recipe for Secret Ingredient Chili

by

We thought it would be fun to share another great recipe from our friend Nancy, who creates the most delicious, beautiful dishes. We are excited to bring some of them here to (in)courage — like this one, perfect for this cold (or should we say chili) season. One silver lining of an ongoing winter? It is indeed chili season, and National Chili Day even falls this month (stash this recipe away for February 22nd!).

Thanks to friend Nancy C. for this delicious and surprising recipe, and the beautiful photos featuring the perfect Mary & Martha serving pieces! On a blustery winter’s night, nothing brings more comfort to the soul than a bowl of chili. Invite friends over for a toppings potluck — have them each bring their favorite toppings: sour cream, shredded cheddar cheese, and chopped green onion, or invite them to bring a side dish or dessert. It’s a perfect way to warm hearts during a cold season!

“Love each other with a warm love that comes from the heart.”
1 Peter 1:22 GW

Friends, scroll down for the recipe and to download a FREE printable recipe card!

Secret Ingredient Chili by Nancy C.

Download the FREE recipe card here!

Prep Time: 20 minutes
Cook Time: 60 minutes
Makes 6 servings.

INGREDIENTS:

  • 1 1/2 lbs. ground beef
  • 1 large onion, chopped
  • 2 (15-oz) cans red kidney beans, rinsed and drained
  • 1 (15-oz) can black beans, rinsed and drained
  • 1 (28-oz) can diced tomatoes, undrained
  • 1 (15-oz) can tomato sauce
  • 3 Tbsp. chili powder
  • 1/2 Tbsp. ground cumin
  • 1 Tbsp. unsweetened  cocoa powder
  • 2 cloves minced garlic
  • Salt and pepper to taste

INSTRUCTIONS:

  1. In a large saucepan, cook the ground beef and chopped onion over medium heat until the beef is no longer pink; drain the fat.
  2. Add the beans, diced tomatoes, tomato sauce, chili powder, cumin, unsweetened cocoa powder, minced garlic, and salt and pepper, if desired.
  3. Reduce heat and simmer, covered, for 1 hour, stirring occasionally.
  4.  Top the chili with any or all of the following: sour cream, shredded cheddar cheese, and chopped green onion.

NOTE: For a spicier chili, use a 28-oz can of diced tomatoes with green chilies instead of regular diced tomatoes.

To get the beautiful and cozy look above, serve the chili in the Grace & Gratitude Deep Dish Baker! Complete the look by serving your toppings in the Grace & Gratitude Dip Bowls. Find these beautiful pieces and more at Mary & Martha by DaySpring.

The Thing You Need to Know About Weight Loss

by

Spoiler (before you get the wrong idea): you don’t need to lose weight and God doesn’t love you any more either way.

A few years ago, I slowly lost sixty pounds. I didn’t do anything drastic, just made small, simple, better choices and took daily walks. I tracked my food in a free app on my phone. I worked to close the rings on my Apple watch and to hit 10,000 steps a day. I wish I could say that the catalyst for the changes I was making came from some awakening in my heart. But, friends, they came from a mortified response to being shamed.

I had a doctor’s appointment for something entirely unrelated to weight or even my general health. It was a very specific issue that turned out to be nothing at all. However, the doctor felt it necessary to comment on my weight and said briskly that I should consider losing some of it.

My face burned for days, thinking of hers as she looked at me, a stranger, and commented on my body. She’d offered her suggestion after my diagnosis was complete and I was nearly ready to walk out the door. When I did walk out the door, it was with a blazing face, a pit in my stomach, and a resolution to do whatever needed to be done for that doctor to eat her words. I know, not the best motivator. It didn’t even make sense, as I would never see that doctor again and I could never “show her.” I figured I would know, and that would be enough to give me a smug satisfaction.

So I downloaded the apps, started walking, and lost 60 pounds in about a year and a half. I did everything in a slow, consistent, baby-step kind of way. Healthy, safe, and not extreme. However . . .

I got more comments on my body over those months than ever before in my life. I invited some of those comments by sharing pictures from my walks and a few before/afters on Instagram, and most of them were from well-meaning people in my life, telling me how amazing I looked. But every single time they offered their good-intentioned praises, my stomach churned and my face blazed just like it did in that doctor’s office. I felt that if they were praising my appearance now, I must have looked terrible before. I’m sure that wasn’t what drove their comments, but that’s how it felt. The same feeling of shame that flooded my heart in the doctor’s office returned, and I wanted to hide.

When Adam and Eve became aware of their bodies, they became ashamed too. I understand that impulse. I get their reaction. I get their urge to hide, to cover up, to avoid being seen. I get the shame they had in the awareness of their bodies, because I’ve felt it at my smallest size when all eyes were on me and I’ve felt it at my largest when I don’t quite fit in an airplane seat.

If invited in, shame is all too happy to entirely occupy every inch of space that it’s given.

Shame, for me, is as well-worn as a broken-in, old pair of jeans. It’s easy to slip into and believe, and there’s a kind of familiarity to it that comes right alongside the hurt it brings. There’s something about shame that can even feel comfortable. But we are not built to house shame. We are God’s workmanship, designed for the freedom that Christ’s love can bring.

Freedom from shame and guilt. Freedom from feeling too much and not enough. Freedom from counting calories and crackers. Freedom from embarrassment and pits in our stomachs.

I don’t want my children to see their mom living ashamed. I want them to see her living free.

There’s not enough room in this article for all the words I want to say about this, so please know that I acknowledge much is left unsaid. There’s not enough room to dissect what it means to be healthy, strong, or fit. To talk about how the health industry touts its ideal body type, offers products as the only or optimal solution, and perpetuates shame. To discuss eating disorders, or the studies that prove most weight lost is eventually gained back (hi, it’s me… I gained it all back after having a surprise 4th baby at the height of the pandemic). There just isn’t room for such a massive and nuanced conversation.

What there is room for is to remind you that you were hand-created by a good, loving God who adores you. Full stop. God doesn’t love you more if you’re thin. God doesn’t love you less if you’re in a bigger body. Your pants size does not matter to God, and it doesn’t matter if that size goes up or down or stays the same.

God just loves you — wholly, as you are. The end.

God loved you before you were created.

God loves you deeply and knows you fully.

God made you beautiful.

God made you in His image.

God rejoices over you, sings over you, saves you.

Jesus came to give whole, full living for us in His love.

There’s nothing you can do to earn God’s love. Shame does not disqualify you from being loved. The size of your clothes doesn’t impact God’s love for you. Shake off the shame, friend. Fight it and dwell in God’s overwhelming love.

Listen, there are for sure days where that’s much easier said than done. But on even those days, God’s deep love for us can carry us through the shame, the sadness, the not-enoughness that we feel. Don’t look to the tag on your clothes to tell you what you’re worth. Your size — your weight — is not your worth. Our worth, our value, comes from God . . . and He says we are good.

When have you felt ashamed? How did you transition from that place into the freedom of God’s love?

 

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

This Valentine’s Day, Let’s Hold Our Heads High

by

The follow-up doctors who treated the dislocation in my knee were both young and quite attractive.

I went to a handful of appointments and, at the end of one of them, I sat in the waiting room and watched the parking lot for my sister who was coming to pick me up.

As time ticked by, I could hear another young woman, a patient, gushing at the checkout window. Apparently, one of the doctors was interested in her and had given his number to her. She went on and on about how cute he was. I, on the other hand, wasn’t gushing at all. This stung. All I received from my doctor was a mere fist bump.

I vented, my voice cracking with emotion, as I told my sister about it on the way home. Not my best memory . . . to this day.

Singleness is near the top of my list of tender aches. Not being in a relationship at twenty-seven is not the life I dreamed for myself. Yes, there have been crushes over the years. But no boyfriends and no fiancés. I’ve dabbled in online dating, but I’ve found that it is not my favorite.

Struggles exist in this season, as every single woman is aware. But, Valentine’s Day — actually, the whole first half of February — is a particularly tough season. Social media is like a pink, red, and white cascade of romance and sweet gestures and dreamy dates. Yet, for us single women, we feel like we’ve been left with a hole in our hearts, asking the same exact question that bubbled to the surface while I sat with teary eyes in the orthopedic waiting room: Why couldn’t it all be for me, too?

Instead of the sweet gestures and having butterflies in our stomachs, we are alone and survive the day without a significant other to call our own. Perhaps we even feel ashamed and embarrassed of this part of our story. We try to focus on giving and receiving the love around us in tangible ways that make the most of the holiday . . . still we’re saddened that we don’t have the affirmation and affection of romantic love.

At this moment, it doesn’t seem like this Valentine’s Day will be any different for me, as my relationship status is the same as it was last year: Single. Even so, I want to make the most of this day by celebrating love, whether it comes from my parents or through organizing a card-making project for imprisoned children in Uganda, as I have done since my teenage years.

As single women, it may feel like there will always be an endless string of Februarys to “get through.” But this year, maybe we can think about our singleness through the lens of these two questions:

  • What if this was the very last Valentine’s Day we spent on our own, or ever?
  • How would we live it out differently?

How might we soak up the moments and opportunities to spread love to those in our lives? How could we spend this day with genuine intention, time, and focus for the relationships we’re already in, romantic or not?

Even if it turns out that we are single next year, and the next year, and the next. Even if we’re single for seasons without end, might we still make the very most of each Valentine’s Day. Because, though we’re single, God is still bestowing His best for us. At all times, we are being given all things — the right things . . . what we need and His highest good.

Even when singleness, and seasons of singleness, are less than ideal, there is a promise worth breathing in and absorbing — a promise that is both a comfort and a guarantee: Our single seasons do not come unaccompanied by God’s unique love.

So, let’s allow our hearts to hope in God’s rich, everlasting love — even though it looks and is different from romantic love. For, His love is better — always has been and always will be. God’s love heals our broken places and satisfies our souls in ways that human love never could.

Being acquainted with such a love can carry us through every season — single or not — with a certain joy and sure safety that is impossible to find anywhere else. This Valentine’s Day, let’s hold our heads high and tend to the tender walls of our hearts with the truth of God’s everlasting love.

We are loved to love — loved to both receive and give God’s lavish love. Even if our Valentine’s Day doesn’t consist of dreamy dates with cute doctors, still we can celebrate the love that surrounds us, even now.

 

Listen to today’s article at the player below or wherever you stream podcasts.

You Have Nothing to Prove

by

When my kids were tiny, they loved Thomas the Train and all his friends. I loved watching them click the magnets together to make long, colorful lines of trains, and all the train noises they made as they moved them along the wooden tracks. I could still tell you all of their names. Hiro and Percy were my personal favorites. Those toy trains are still treasured — we keep a bin full of them to hopefully pass on to our kids’ littles someday.

In the television series and books, there’s a label that Sir Topham Hatt, the train conductor, consistently gives to these beloved trains as a measure of their value. He calls Thomas, and those he approves of, “really useful” engines.

I remember reading that description in one of the books and thinking about how good it feels to be useful, while simultaneously feeling like something didn’t sit well about striving for that affirmation. The trains beam when they hear Sir Topham Hatt say they are really useful.

I can picture myself beaming over a similar affirmation. I’m sure I’ve chased after affirmations like that before. No matter how old we are, most of us want to feel the weight of our true value. We want to be assured that we matter. It can be so easy to lose our way and forget that our value and worth aren’t things that can slip away, nor something that we have to prove.

Eventually, I remember having to stop in the middle of reading one of those familiar stories aloud, and tell my son that being useful isn’t our purpose; our measure of usefulness doesn’t increase or decrease our value as image bearers who are loved by God. I wanted to make sure he knew that God is not like Sir Topham Hatt, and honestly, I need the reminder too. I find this message of praising usefulness consistently wrapped around everything in our culture like a security blanket.

It sneaks up on us in our friendships when we find ourselves seeking to be the one who’s most needed. It follows us into motherhood like a phantom of the perfect mom who would never have kids who behave that way or struggle this way. It shows up in our communities and our ministry efforts when we sign up or raise our hand while secretly hoping others will notice how often we give of ourselves in the name of love, instead of from an overflow of being loved.

We all have Sir Topham Hatts in our lives (sometimes it’s us). The characters may change over time, and so might the settings. What’s elevated as most useful and good can change too, and I think that makes it even harder to see the lie woven alongside half-truths. I easily forget that my worth is unchangeable and my value is inherent. My usefulness or lack of doesn’t impact my value as an image bearer.

Everything about Jesus tells us that our worth isn’t dependent on what we do or don’t do, how much we help or fail to, and what we achieve or not. Even in Jesus’ own life, God the Father says He is loved and pleased with Jesus before He begins preaching, telling stories, leading, and healing the sick. “And a voice from heaven said, ‘This is my dearly loved Son, who brings me great joy” (Matthew 3:17).

Being delighted in and loved is the spiritual womb from which Jesus’s ministry is birthed. It’s the intimate place He goes back to again and again throughout His ministry and it’s the place He offers us to begin from and return to as well.

The trains we keep in our bin are full of memories. Watching my kids build and play, make funny train noises and voices, and enjoy themselves was delightful because their joy and mere presence have immeasurable worth. There’s nothing useful about it.

Sister, your joy and mere presence have immeasurable worth too.

You are perfectly loved.

You have inherent value.

You have nothing to prove.

You do not have to be useful; only loved.

 

Listen to today’s article at the player below or wherever you stream podcasts.

God’s Comfort When Troubles Don’t Stop (…and celebrate our book launch with us!)

by

I was behind on everything.

I’d tell myself to just do the next thing or to stop being so lazy.

I finally began seeing a therapist because I had such a hard time functioning. I couldn’t be creative or concentrate, and I didn’t want to hang out with anyone else besides my husband and my dog.

My therapist asked some initial questions, and I responded with, “Yeah, this thing happened, but it’s not a big deal.” Or “Yeah, it was hard for me, but other people have had it so much worse . . . ”

She finally stopped me and asked, “Have you heard of compound trauma?”

I hadn’t. She went on to explain. “Yes, any one of those things on their own may not have sunk you. But what it sounds like is that life has been unrelenting, and each of these traumas — and that’s what they are, traumas — has left you without the ability to recover.”

And as soon as I heard this, I, a dedicated non-crier, broke down in a flood of tears.

Yes, horrible things have happened to others, and I will mourn with them. But the magnitude of someone else’s suffering does not lessen my suffering. And until I allow myself to grieve, I cannot recover.

So many of us have been through surprisingly hard things. It doesn’t matter if other people are tougher than you. It doesn’t matter if your friend or your neighbor could handle circumstances better than you could. God has made it clear that to be there for others, we must allow God to comfort us. God comforts us through others who are going through similar circumstances — through other people’s creative acts of kindness. Through the Word, prayers, and the love of the people God has surrounded us with, we feel His comfort.

He calls Himself the God of all comfort, and He proves that over and over again.

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.”
2 Corinthians 1:3-4 ESV

Excerpt by Kathi Lipp, from 100 Days of Strength in Any Struggle

What if you could actually see God clearer and know Him deeper in the middle of your struggles? You don’t have to keep trying to muster up more grit, willpower, or wisdom on your own. You can tap into the source of true, unfailing strength. How? 

In our new 100-day devotional journal, 100 Days of Strength in Any Struggle, you’ll discover where strength really comes from — Jesus, who holds everything together. As you experience pain, move through daily challenges, or get bogged down by anxieties big or small, you’ll learn to find Him right in the middle of it, ready to strengthen you and give you rest. 

You are stronger than you think because God is closer than you know.

It’s launch day, and we’re celebrating!

To celebrate the release of 100 Days of Strength in Any Struggle, we’re giving away FIVE sets of books – one copy for you and one for a friend!* Each winner can gift her extra copy to a friend or someone in her life who is struggling. Just leave a comment on this post and you’ll be entered to win two copies of 100 Days of Strength in Any Struggle!

We’re thrilled that this very special book can now be in your hands; get your copy today.

 

Listen to today’s devotion below or subscribe to the (in)courage podcast for our daily devos, read just for you.

*Giveaway open until 2/9/24 at 11:59 pm central to US addresses only. 

You’re Not Failing. You’re Learning.

by

My 84-year-old mom recently spent several weeks in the hospital battling an infection. During her stay, she lost a lot of physical strength and had to eventually relearn many daily tasks — tasks that once felt easy and familiar to her. At first, simply walking across the room was a chore.

One day, a nurse was helping my mom with an everyday task that she didn’t have quite enough strength to complete. Naturally, it was disappointing to Mom not to be able to do something that would have been a breeze not long before her hospitalization.

Mom’s words bubbled out in frustration: “I feel like I’m failing.”

Then, without skipping a beat, the nurse responded, “You’re not failing. You’re learning.”

Mom took the words to heart, and by the next week, she was doing the task that she thought she had failed.

As much as the nurse’s words were meant for Mom in that moment, they found a tender place in my soul, too. Here’s why: There have been many times in my life where I’ve said those five words to myself: “I feel like I’m failing.”

I felt like I had failed at friendship when it took me three years in a new community to find my people.

I felt like I had failed as a mom when I wasn’t sure how to parent two teenagers through a pandemic.

I felt like I had failed in my writing career when my stack of rejection letters got so high, I was afraid they might get altitude sickness!

I have felt moments of failure in nearly every area of my life at one point or another: in my health goals, my marriage, and even my life as a Christian.

But when I look back, those weren’t failures at all. They were moments to learn and grow. They were opportunities to find strength I didn’t know I had, and to discover a hope I didn’t think was possible.

Like the nurse told my mom, I wasn’t failing; I was learning. Learning how to be human. How to stand up again after facing adversity. How to look back, from time to time, and see how far I’d come.

Failing says, “Give up and walk away before you make a fool of yourself.”
Learning says, “Give yourself grace. You’re getting stronger every day.”

The voice that accuses you of being a constant failure is the voice of your enemy.
The voice that reminds you that you are a work in progress is the voice of your Savior.

From the time you took your first step on this earth, God has been watching you grow. He has been a witness to every one of your mistakes, missteps, and messes, but instead of calling you a failure, He reminds you that your past made you into the woman you are right now. (And He has loved every single version of you, by the way.)

All along, you were learning, not failing.

I love how Solomon describes this as a kind of falling-then-getting-back-up-again way of living. He writes in Proverbs 24:16: “The godly may trip seven times, but they will get up again” (NLT).

The Message paraphrases the verse like this: “No matter how many times you trip them up, God-loyal people don’t stay down long: Soon they’re up on their feet, while the wicked end up flat on their faces.”

Solomon’s words give us the confidence to know that, with God, setbacks aren’t endings but opportunities to grow stronger. Remember that truth the next time your inner critic calls you a failure.

With God, you can trust God’s plan. To which you may say, well duh, Captain Obvious. But sometimes the obvious answer is the right one. Only God knows what His long-range plan is, and how we’re going to get there on a path that includes those so-called “failures.” Only God knows how the messed-up stuff in our lives is building a strength inside of us that we wouldn’t have built any other way.

There will come a time when you’ll look back and see how you grew in ways you didn’t know were possible. Even if you have to wait all the way until you’re 84 years old to see how brave and strong you were all along, may you sense God whispering this in your heart today: “You’re not failing. You’re learning.”

Jennifer’s book, Growing Slow, helps you set aside those feelings of failure, and see yourself as a human being, loved and tended by God as you grow and learn in Him.

 

P.S. Need even more encouragement to see God everywhere and experience His strength for everything? Then grab a copy of 100 Days of Strength in Any Struggle! This devotional journal features stories from all of your favorite (in)courage writers, plus life-line Scriptures, space to record your own thoughts and prayers, and a way to track how God is personally strengthening you. It releases tomorrow!!

Available on DaySpring, Amazon, or wherever you like to buy books.

 

Listen to today’s devotion below or subscribe to the (in)courage podcast for our daily devos, read just for you.