Celebrate Good Times, Come On!

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!

The Paper Cuts of a Longing Heart

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Paper cuts hurt more than other cuts.

Though small, they sting — they demand attention. My daughter will tell you that, as sure as the sky is blue, paper cuts are the worst. In fact, when my daughter was three years old, she once went on a tirade about a paper cut, right in the middle of a cello recital. She grimaced on her tiny stool, stood up, and then held up her middle finger to show her paper cut to the entire room. Her grandparents and I gasped. We knew then just how much she hated paper cuts.

Recently, though, I watched her struggle with a new type of sting — the sting of biting, small words from girls in the fourth grade. 

“Just go,” I motioned to her, nudging her to walk home with a group of girls from class. After hesitating for a moment, she handed me her backpack, water bottle, and an additional tote filled with music and library books. She hurried across the street and onto the sidewalk to meet the other girls. I walked home and met up with her later, thinking it all went well. 

You see, just four months ago, we moved. It wasn’t our plan to move into a new district in the middle of the school year but, alas, the housing market seemed opportune. I thought this was it, and I even saw this as a new opportunity for my ten-year-old to make new friends and connections.

But then, the day after my daughter met up with those girls, I noticed her eager demeanor dissipated. I nudged her their way. No response. I motioned again, suggesting she make the connection and walk with these girls. Only this time, I received the same grimace my daughter gave me when she was three and nursing a paper cut in the middle of her cello recital.

We walked home in silence. Then, the tirade happened in our house’s entryway. Words spilled out, heartbreaking confessions about friendship formations and her exclusion from them — the paper cuts of a longing heart. 

I didn’t help the issue much. I offered solutions far too readily. Love and grace weren’t extended. It’s a silly paper cut, after all. But I quickly realized that, when it came to mending a heart, stricken by loss and grief, I needed to acknowledge my daughter.

She begged me to see this slight hurt, and so when I met up with her again after school the next day, I decided not to nudge. Surprisingly, I overheard one of the fourth-grade girls whisper while gesturing at my daughter. “Oh look, here she comes,” she said.

While my daughter never saw the motion, I watched in horror as the girls scattered to exclude my daughter from the group. Then I was the one with a paper cut . . . and a vengeful heart. I finally understood my daughter’s pain, and soon bitterness began clouding my judgment of these girls who gifted my daughter a broken heart. But, being an adult, I was reminded of this truth:

Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.
Ephesians 4:31-32

When my daughter was three, I tended to her wound by wrapping it with a brightly-colored bandage. So, this time around, when my daughter’s teacher revealed all that had transpired, and a note extending forgiveness came home, we tended to her wound by wrapping it with a brightly-colored note of forgiveness that we sent right back. 

While the sting needed a moment to heal, it no longer held our attention. “I’m sorry this happened,” I said. “You know you’re loved by us and Jesus, too, right?” She smiled. Her arms wrapped around my waist, and she squeezed with all her might. 

“Yes,” she replied. “I can be kind and compassionate, too.”

It turns out, she must have taken the words from Ephesians 4:31-32 to heart.

Bitterness does not need to overtake our already worn and achy hearts. Harboring resentment will only amplify our pain. May we remember the charge in the old song “What a Friend We Have in Jesus.” Indeed, it is a privilege to give our sorrows to the Prince of Grief. So, take your pain to the Lord in prayer.

He hears you . . . paper cuts and all.

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

Join Our Summer Study! (Strength for Any Struggle You Face)

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Your car needs new brakes.
Your rent got raised.
Your child is distant.
The cancer is back.

Your job is killing you.
Your partner left.
Depression is creeping its way back.

Your mom has dementia, your friendship fell through, your body is betraying you. You wonder why you can’t get it together, hold it all together.

You’re tired of feeling weak, weary, and alone. Your back is up against the wall, the world’s weight is on your shoulders. You just might break.

Does this resonate?

Our circumstances are all different but we can all agree that life is hard. Relationships are complex and brokenness comes in a thousand different shapes and shades. Thankfully, God doesn’t leave us to figure it out or fumble through alone.

His wisdom, joy, guidance, and strength are available to us right now, right where we are. And we want to experience it TOGETHER!

That’s why we’re teaming up with our friends at DaySpring’s Mary & Martha to bring you a special Summer Study (that starts TODAY!) through our devotional journal, 100 Days of Strength in Any Struggle.

Here are all the details you need:
What: 6-week Summer Study
When: Weekdays June 3 – July 12
Time: 9 a.m. CT
Where: This Facebook Group

Grab your copy of 100 Days of Strength in Any Struggle and then tune in to the Facebook Group every morning M-F at 9 a.m. CT for 15-30 minutes of LIVE encouragement and group interaction.

100 Days of Strength in Any Struggle is full of relatable stories, applicable Scriptures, and space to consider and record what the Lord is speaking to your heart and how He is strengthening you with His Spirit, comfort, love, and provision every single day.

You might be wondering…

  • Will there be replays if I can’t make it live? Yes! Pop into the group any time of day that works for you.
  • Can I participate if I don’t engage every day? Of course! Consistency often leads to meaningful transformation, but this study is meant to serve you however you need.
  • Who will lead the study? You’ll enjoy learning alongside a variety of Mary & Martha Ambassadors and (in)courage authors — all women who love Jesus and love you!
  • Will there be a schedule of what to read and which devotions will be discussed? Absolutely! You’ll find all the details in the Facebook group.
  • What if I don’t have Facebook? This study will be run exclusively on Facebook so a profile is needed to participate. But if social media is not your thing, we encourage you to grab a girlfriend, a sister, a daughter, or a coworker and form your own mini summer study to encourage one another. (You’ll be glad you did!)
  • Where can I get a copy of 100 Days of Strength in Any Struggle? Get your book on DaySpring, Amazon, or any book retailer you love.

Friends, whatever struggle you face today, we want to walk with you.

What if you could actually see God clearer and know Him deeper in the middle of your struggles?

What if you didn’t have to muster up more grit on your own but you could access all the strength God has to offer?

You can!

Click here to join the 100 Days of Strength in Any Struggle Facebook Group.

We can’t wait to see you there (and we can’t wait to see what God will do in your life over the next 6 weeks!)

Listen to the audio version below or on our daily (in)courage podcast!

This Is the First and Best Thing You Can Do

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“The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective.”
James 5:16 NIV

When friends or family are hurting, it’s easy to think, “I wish I could do something to really help. I wish I could make the situation better, but at least I can pray.”

What if prayer wasn’t the least you could do, but the most you could do?

As Becky Keife wrote in The Simple Difference,

“Prayer is not our last resort. It’s our best first response.”

God’s Word invites us to pray continually. And it promises that the prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective. That means when we are right with God — living surrendered to His will and receptive to His grace — then our prayers will be powerful and effective.

When someone we love is struggling (even if that person is yourself), the best thing we can do is take those concerns straight to Jesus. Then wait expectantly for what He alone can do.

Let’s practice this by praying together! Leave your prayer request in the comments and pray for the person before you.

Stimming and Spinning and Shining Your Light

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Our nineteen-year-old, non-verbal son, Thomas, is on the autism spectrum and thrives when we keep his routine and schedule — and Saturday is no exception.

His Saturday morning schedule? Chores, grocery shopping, and then a trip to the drive-thru for a specific order of fries and soda. Every single Saturday.

On a recent Saturday morning grocery excursion, our son caught sight of a display of colorful ink pens topped with hats that would spin around when you pressed a button. He quickly decided his course of action. 

  1. Pick up a pen. 
  2. Click the pen’s button. 
  3. Spin the pen’s hat. Wheeeeee!
  4. Repeat for each pen.  

His distinctive squeal of delight pierced the air of the aisle. I stood close by to appreciate his joy . . . and to protect him. In my experience, not everyone appreciates a man-child who is six feet tall and touches things in the grocery store. Not everyone understands the neurodiverse world of autism. Because of this, we are often the recipients of harsh looks and unsolicited comments.

As Thomas played with the pens, an older gentleman turned the corner and looked our way. He paused for a moment before pushing his cart towards us. I thought, “Oh no. Here we go again.” 

Here’s the thing, though. When it comes to autism and Thomas’ interactions with the world, we’ve landed on Luke 11:33 as our focus.

No one after lighting a lamp puts it in a cellar or under a basket, but on a stand, so that those who enter may see the light.
Luke 11:33 ESV

Thomas holds the light of God in him.  He is fearfully and wonderfully made in the image of God just like everyone else.  As Luke 11:33 says, Thomas isn’t to be hidden in a cellar or under a basket.  If I hid Thomas away, how would that show others that he has value? How would that show Thomas he has value?

An autism journey can be difficult. Sometimes it’s easier to hide. And, far too often, I do just that. Hide. 

But what if others know I have been there, too? 

My experiences on our autism journey can be used to light the way for another family looking for the hope of Jesus on their journey. I can offer comfort and compassion because I’ve been there.

As the gentleman in the grocery aisle continued toward us, I mentally checked my emotional energy tank — it was pretty low. Was it too late to run and hide? Did I really need those items on my grocery list? Why didn’t I put that invisibility cloak in my purse?

 I braced myself for what history has shown me would be an unsolicited lesson in parenting. The gentleman stopped, looked at me, and sighed. “My daughter is forty-two,” he said. “How old is your son?”

What followed was a brief conversation about his daughter and their journey as a family as she grew older. He told me I was doing the right thing, bringing Thomas with me to the store and showing the world that our non-verbal son on the autism spectrum had value.

“You’re doing a good job, Mom,” he said. Then he rolled his cart towards the produce aisle while Thomas continued to pick up and spin EVERY SINGLE colorful pen. 

That gentleman could have walked right by. He didn’t have to say a word — but he did. 

The comfort and encouragement he offered was the refreshing refill my emotional energy tank needed. The comfort he offered came from a position of experience. He had a special needs daughter. He might not have known what my specific struggle was . . . but he had, at least, lived a similar story. 

I bear witness to Thomas’ life and allow him to be noticed by others. It isn’t easy, but there is value in vulnerability. 

We received an unexpected spin on Luke 11:33 in the grocery store that day.  A compassionate gentleman bore witness to the value of the lives of Thomas and myself. He pursued us when he could have passed us. He made the effort to shine a light on two people he didn’t know — and that light made all the difference.

Friends, may we all remember that we have a role in bearing witness to the value of others and shining the light God has given us to share.

God’s Cure for Negative Thinking

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As humans, we’re naturally prone to forget the positive things that happen to us. Psychologist Rick Hanson is fond of saying, “The mind is like Velcro for negative experiences and Teflon for positive ones.”

This explains why it’s much easier to recall the bully who teased you in the third grade than the kind neighbor who watched you after school and fed you warm cookies. I have more vivid memories of when my 11th-grade homecoming date stood me up than afterward when my dad ordered pizza and let me cry it out. 

Our brain’s “velcro tendency” is also known as negative bias. This concept explains our brain’s natural wiring to hold onto what’s painful or hurtful to protect us from repeating that hurt in the future. For example, as kids, we learned that fire was hot because we sometimes burned ourselves. Our brains store that information to ensure we don’t burn ourselves again. This function has a helpful purpose: keeping us from physical danger. Yet, negative bias doesn’t help nurture emotional or spiritual health.

Suppose you’re not aware and intentional about managing negative bias. In that case, your brain will collect dozens, even hundreds, of mental photo albums filled with bad memories or mental computer hard drives of unhappy moments that make you believe that life is only hard, horrible, or full of heartache. 

Unless you enjoy reliving awful moments while sipping lemonade on a hot day, you’ll want to tap into God’s remedy for negative bias. He gave us a helpful tool to hold onto meaningful and miraculous memories and velcro them to our brains so they won’t slip away.   

In Joshua 4, God instructed the Israelites to mark a special moment as they prepared to cross the Jordan River. 

God instructed their leader, Joshua, to direct one man from each of the twelve tribes of Israel to pull a stone from the center of the Jordan while God held back the waters. With these stones, they constructed a memorial on the edge of the river by their campsite. Then, they assembled another monument of stones in the center of the Jordan. Here’s what Joshua told the people when their children asked them why the stone memorial was there:

“For the Lord your God dried up the river right before your eyes, and he kept it dry until you were all across, just as he did at the Red Sea when he dried it up until we had all crossed over. He did this so all the nations of the earth might know that the Lord’s hand is powerful, and so you might fear the Lord your God forever.”
Joshua 4:23-24 NLT

In their 40 years of wandering the wilderness, the Israelites anticipated the excitement of entering a new home. They’d finally stop roaming around and settle down. Yet, God wanted to ensure they did not forget that He parted the Jordan River to make entering their new home possible. Forty years earlier, God parted the Red Sea for the Israelites to escape Egypt and fed them food from heaven each day they wandered. For all of the blessings and miracles that God had done, He knew that the Israelites were prone to forgetfulness. 

We forget, too. 

It’s so easy to focus on what is missing, broken, or changed in our lives that we forget God’s blessings or minimize them in our minds.  

For a decade, our family faced an alcohol addiction crisis in our home. Daily, sadness, instability, and uncertainty hovered over our household. On any given day, I steeled myself for another new crisis and weathered a loved one’s irrational words or erratic behavior. While there were periodic moments to celebrate, my mental photo albums of sadness overflowed; the collection of hard memories seemed easier to recall than the good ones. Even when God moved miraculously in a crisis, my brain quickly tossed those memories to the back of my mind.

I read the story in Joshua 4 during the final separation in my marriage and decided to create my stone memorial. I drove to the craft store and purchased a glass container and twelve large decorative stones with flat bottoms that I could write on. On the bottom of each stone, I wrote a few words describing God’s miraculous work or faithfulness in my life. As I recalled those moments, I could sense my mind reshuffling that photo album of blessings to the front of my memory, and my heart was lifted. 

After writing on all twelve stones, I placed the memorial on a table where I could see the reminders regularly. Every time I saw those stones it prompted me to believe that the same God who had been at work would continue working in my life, even on the hard days. 

If your mental photo albums only show bad or sad moments, perhaps you can create a list of twelve God moments and post that list in a place where you’ll see it.

If you’ve seen where God’s goodness and grace have carried you through in the past, that same goodness and grace will meet you again.

For more encouragement on getting through anxious times, check out Barb’s Bible Study, Joshua: Winning the Worry Battle.

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

Patient Endurance Is What You Need Now

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Several months ago I decided I was going to spend an entire day with the Lord. I had blocked my calendar for the day and replaced everything with Jesus. Like so many of us, I had a list of things I needed answers for. A fully devoted day with Jesus seemed like the only solution. I was looking forward to it. 

I hiked down the side of our bluff to platform three and began unpacking my list to the Lord. For the next several hours I told Him everything He already knew about my situation. I asked Him how He was going to take care of it. Throughout the entire conversation, I could hear Him reassure me. I could feel His presence.

Yet, I wouldn’t stop asking Him how it was going to happen — how He was going to take care of it all.

How? What a rude question to ask the Creator of the universe. Even though He’s not mad about the question, it does, however, show that I’m second-guessing His ability to accomplish something and reveals my lack of complete surrender.

Why does it matter how God does things?

I don’t know how He parted the Red Sea, yet that didn’t stop the Israelites from walking across it on dry land. I have no idea how Jesus and Peter walked on water. It doesn’t make it any less true because I don’t know how it happened. I’m so annoyed with myself sometimes for questioning how God is going to fulfill His promises in my life. 

We have four platforms on the side of our bluff that lead to our dock. I spent hours talking to the Lord and pacing between platform 2 and platform 3 that day. I would pray, worship, quote Scripture, pray some more, and occasionally listen. I was serious about getting some answers, but I was asking the wrong questions. I wanted to know how and when. Where is the faith in that? Not knowing how and when something is going to happen and still believing it’s going to happen is the essence of faith. 

Instead of the Lord telling me how or when, I heard Him say, Open your Bible. I don’t always believe in the flip the Bible open to wherever it lands method, but that’s what I did that day. God is funny. The Scripture I opened up to said, “Patient endurance is what you need now” (Hebrews 10:36 NLT). I laughed out loud and wrote in my Bible, “Yes, I do!” The Lord then led me to Hebrews chapter 11. 

Hebrews 11 is one of my favorite chapters in the Bible. I began to read about all of these great acts of faith. They are inspiring. Any time we need a faith boost, Hebrews 11 is a great place to start. This time as I read the stories I was enlightened in new ways. The Lord pointed out to me that Noah had never even seen rain before. He was told to build a massive boat because it was going to rain. What? Water was going to fall from the sky? It had only come up from springs in the earth. I’m sure Noah had to wonder how was water falling from the sky even possible. Yet, he obeyed the steps God gave him, built a boat, and it rained. 

Abraham was told to go to a land he had never been to before. He started walking not knowing where he was going. How was he going to get somewhere if he didn’t know how to get there? He took one step at a time. Sarah had already gone through menopause. There were no eggs left in our girl. She was past the age of childbearing, yet, she definitely had a baby. How? 

When we face circumstances that don’t make any earthly sense, God doesn’t want us to ask how. He wants us to say, “I don’t know how and I don’t have to know how, because my God is faithful and capable.”

I needed to remember that the Lord is for me. If He is for me, then what can possibly be against me (Romans 8:31)? Just because I don’t know how, doesn’t limit the Lord. The only thing that limits the Lord from working in my life is my lack of trusting Him (James 1:6-7). If Noah, Abraham, and Sarah had waited to trust God until after they learned how and when, there would have never been a boat, a promised land, or a child. 

You better believe I repented that day. I told the Lord I was so sorry for not trusting Him. I asked Him for patient endurance. Since that day I’ve seen some pretty amazing things the Lord has done in my life. Many of the things on my prayer list from that day on the platform have been checked off in ways that far surpassed how I thought they would happen. I would never have expected Him to move in my life the way He chose to move. It was far better and greater than my limited thinking.

The Lord was right. Whenever I stopped asking how and when and began to trust Him fully, the answers began to come.

I’m still waiting for some answers. I won’t be asking the Lord how they’re going to happen. I’m over here patiently enduring (some days more than others). When I find myself getting restless and questioning God’s methods and timing, I calm myself, think about that day with God, and say, “Lord, I trust You.”

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

We Need the One and Only You

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I could spell most words correctly until college when I majored in a foreign language (with its own alphabet) and my English spelling suffered. Now my phone and computer editing programs run in the background, seamlessly fixing my mistakes, but it bothers me that those squiggly lines appear and then disappear as if they never happened.

When I heard that writing words you misspell ten times by hand improves spelling, I tried it.

Chauffeured stumped me first. (The handwriting experiment must’ve worked, at least temporarily, because I typed it now without error.) I also had problems with vicious (I want to add an “s” in the middle), caressed (shouldn’t there be another “r”?), and the last name of a famous actor and author you would recognize.

Since I couldn’t verify the spelling of his last name in the dictionary, I went to one of his social media accounts. I confirmed how to spell his name, but what really caught my attention was what was on his feed. Instead of carefully curated images to match his acting and authoring success, he filled it with sports-related posts. And let me tell you, the man loves sports — particularly from his alma mater. He posted about football and golf and tennis. The banner on his account was a color-coordinated picture of him in his home team’s football stands looking so content it made me smile. He shares things that are meaningless to me, but bring him joy. I found it refreshing.

As a content creator myself, the world proclaims I need to do certain things to succeed. The world touts proven strategies, editable templates, and surefire marketing plans. As much as I hate to say it — and as detrimental as it might be to my professional success — my spirit often rebels against all the “best practices.” Rather than doing the “right things”, I want to do the authentic things.

I want to live so authentically that I too can fill my social media feed with the things that bring me joy — highlights from my favorite team (I’m looking at you, Braves) or pictures of my dog or backyard plants — without worrying if it resonates with everyone who interacts with my account.

The burden to fit in and follow all the “proven steps to success” is one I no longer want to bear.

I can no longer carry on a conversation about best SEO practices, but I can talk all day about the podcasts I listen to, the redemption arc of one of my favorite baseball players on and off the field, or the book I’m writing — things I care about. I aspire to be more like this actor/author (whose name I still can’t spell); I want to be so comfortable in my skin that I don’t over-analyze, sanitize, or hide who I am and what’s important to me.

The older I get, the harder it’s become to pretend to be what I’m not, and the more I recognize (and try not to rebel against) who God made me to be.

And God certainly didn’t create us with a one-size-fits-all mold. We’re weird, quirky misfits who love what we love and dislike what we dislike. We’re so unique God has numbered the hairs of our heads (Matthew 10:30). We’re as individual as snowflakes in a winter sky, yet we intersect and overlap in delightful ways. Have you ever met someone in a checkout line (or followed an online account) and a stranger’s words resonate so much it’s like you encountered a kindred spirit? What a gift to be drawn to and feel understood by certain people, while appreciating what makes others distinct, even if we can’t relate.

Sometimes, it’s living out our faith that makes us different.

Much of the world will reject the message of Jesus. They don’t want to hear about it. The world will tell you following Jesus won’t make you one of the cool kids. Having a moral compass will never be particularly popular; it’ll never be the latest fad. You and I will never satisfy the world’s expectations. It hated Jesus, after all. (John 15:18)

But the world needs our authentic voices. The world needs to hear who you are and who Jesus is to you — whether shared online, in fellowship halls, or in waiting rooms. Don’t be afraid to be yourself. Sharing stories can build bridges that connect hearts and minds.

The world needs what you have to offer. We need the one and only you.

Listen to today’s podcast on the player below and subscribe wherever you listen to podcasts!

A Fruitful Life (Even When You Face Disappointment)

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My husband and I walk toward the town square, holding steaming cups of coffee. We weave our way around freckled, exuberant dogs and sleeping babies in strollers. It’s the first weekend of the farmer’s market in our town. Over the next few months, this place will be a rainbow: vivid red strawberries, sweet blueberries, and peaches in all the colors of a sunrise.

We’ll wait with anticipation for each one. “Are they here yet?” we’ll ask each week. Then we will point at the newest arrival with delight, like children in a candy store. We’ll hand over faded green dollars and slip fruit into crackly brown paper bags. We’ll carry it home and take the first bite right over the sink, juice dripping down our chins.

I thought of this recently when I received news I didn’t want. A disappointment. Perhaps, depending on how I looked at it, even a failure. A growing and thriving opportunity suddenly went almost barren. If I ran my hand along the branches of it, I would find only rough bark and sharpened limbs. I mourned over this. I went on long walks with my husband. I watched old shows on television. I sat on the back porch with mug after mug of tea.

Then lying in bed one night, these phrases came to mind: “like a tree planted beside flowing streams that bears its fruit in its season and whose leaf does not wither” (Psalm 1:3 CSB). These words are spoken about those who trust and obey God, who dig their roots deep into His love. Jesus said it too: “The one who remains in me and I in him produces much fruit” (John 15:5 CSB).

When hard news comes, when difficulties happen, we can be tempted to think that if our life is a farmer’s market, the stalls will now be empty. There will be only fragile leaves chased away by the wind. All the glory and color will be gone. But the reality is this: As long as we are joined to Jesus, there will be fruit in our lives — from the time we are sneaker-wearing teenagers to silver-haired senior citizens blowing out one hundred candles on the cake. In other words, there will always be miraculous things coming to and through us.

The fruit in our lives will thrive. That doesn’t mean nothing hard will ever happen or we’ll get everything we want. But it does mean that God’s plans for our lives are invincible when we stay connected to Him. Life’s droughts and storms can’t stop Him from bringing forth His miraculous work in and through us.

So let’s cling to God’s promises. Hold tight to His heart. Have strong roots that burrow deep into His affection for us. We will not falter. We will not fail. We will not lead a barren life at any age. Psalm 92:14 CSB says, “They will still bear fruit in old age, healthy and green.” Yes, we will be
women of beauty, growth, and blessings as long as we live. Because we are trees planted by the river of God’s love, and it will never run dry.

Our role is to trust the rhythm of the Gardener, to not demand only bananas year-round like an impatient toddler. We understand — somewhere deep inside — this is not the way it’s meant to be. “Fruit in its season” means God isn’t in a hurry. He never runs out of time because He has
eternity. So do we. And God doesn’t need me to make five, fifteen, or forty more bushels. The expectations I place on myself are not necessarily His.

What our lives produce doesn’t have to be perfect. I remember a fruit stand on the side of the road that caught my attention. As I approached it, a weather-worn farmer who looked to be in his 80s gave me a bright smile. He extended his hand which held a gorgeous peach and asked, “Would you like to try it?” I accepted and found it utterly delicious. The farmer smiled with satisfaction and nodded, “It’s good, isn’t it?”

Unlike that farmer, I can hesitate to share the fruit God produces in my life with those around me. I think it’s not good enough. I’m afraid they won’t like it. So I hide it away. But what if the farmer did the same? His peaches were delightful, but not perfect. There were bumps, bruises, and scrapes in some places. He could have hidden them in his barn out of shame and fear until they rotted away. Then I and many others would have missed out on something wonderful.

So I’m challenging all of us today to offer our fruit. Whatever gifts God has entrusted to us, let’s share them. Whatever talents He’s blessed us with, let’s use them. Whatever words of encouragement He’s placed within our hearts, let’s speak them. Those who receive our fruit will be blessed. And perhaps our heavenly Father will smile with satisfaction as He sees the fruit in our lives and once again say, “It’s good, isn’t it?”

At the farmer’s market, I reach for a berry the color of flame. I think of how it has waited so long and braved so much to come to me. And suddenly, I see the disappointment I’d been so concerned about differently.

It wasn’t a failure; it was simply a changing season in my life. Whatever might be ahead will not be the same. But it will be good—sweet and ripe for its time.

This devotion is by Holley Gerth as featured in the summer issue of Everyday Faith Magazine.

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

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

You’ll discover tips on how to spruce up your front porch for the summertime and how to become a morning person, devotions for summer road-tripping, journaling prompts to grow in your faith, stories of hope during difficult times, and ideas about how to live your faith this summer. These pages are full of the best kind of hope and encouragement – truth from God’s Word.

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

Giveaway is open to US addresses only and will close on 6/2/24 at 11:59 pm central. 

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

The Kind of Freedom We Actually Need

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On May 6, 1868, as the United States of America struggled to rebuild and unify after a brutal Civil War, the Grand Army of the Republic (GAR) issued the Memorial Day Act, officially marking Memorial Day as a day for the North and South, White and Black, to honor those who died in the war. Also called “Decoration Day,” observers honored the day by decorating the graves of those who died fighting for what they believed in with flowers. It was also considered a religious observance, calling all citizens to pray for peace.

Today is Memorial Day in the United States, and I’m considering the history of this holiday as well as its significance. My grandfather served in the US Army Air Corps in Europe during World War II. My father served in the Army in Vietnam during the Vietnam War. And now my son and daughter-in-law serve as pilots in the United States Air Force, my son having deployed to the Middle East. Although each one returned from their tour of service alive, they didn’t come back unscathed. My grandfather didn’t meet his firstborn child until he was two years old, and to the day of my grandfather’s death, he couldn’t bear to tell us about his experience. Within months of returning from Vietnam, my father was diagnosed with PTSD, a validation many returning veterans didn’t receive. Even my son, still young in his career, has his hard stories.

Each one of my family members bore the hidden wounds of experiences they never wished for. My grandfather and father have since passed, and yet if you could ask each one they would tell you they’d do it again. Although they dreaded war and prayed for peace, they also believed in freedom. They served to protect those they loved and, hopefully, preserve that freedom.

I am proud of their sacrifice and grateful for it. Thinking of them today sobers me. Even so, what I feel toward them pales in comparison to the gratitude I feel when I consider the sacrifice Jesus made to secure ultimate freedom, for all of us.

You see, if you and I lose sight of the true hero of our human condition, we risk worshipping lesser gods. There is only One whose sacrifice purchased a freedom we can’t lose. He gave His life, in excruciating fashion, so we would ultimately live. And He gave his life willingly, without a fight, because He knew the only way to achieve a world without wars was to lay His weapons down. On the day Jesus initiated His mission, He made it clear the kind of freedom He was fighting for:

“The Spirit of the Lord is on me,
because he has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners
and recovery of sight for the blind,
to set the oppressed free,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”
Luke 4:18-19 NIV

Yes, today I honor the lives of men and women who lost their lives in war, not just in the United States but around the world. I will look at the black-and-white photos of my father and grandfather with respect, and I will call my son and daughter-in-law to let them know how much I love them.

Even so, I remain cognizant and tender toward the myriad of ways this world and its wars cut and wound us. Ours is a world in need of healing, a people in need of a freedom we can’t secure no matter how loud we scream or how hard we fight. We need more than warriors or weapons or even our own wisdom can achieve for us.

We need a Savior. Hallelujah, we already have Him.

“Then I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and on the sea, and all that is in them, saying:

‘To him who sits on the throne and to the Lamb
be praise and honor and glory and power,
for ever and ever!’”
Revelation 5:13 NIV

Amen.

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

 

Sunday Scripture: Joy for Your Heart

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“Your words were found, and I ate them.
Your words became a delight to me
and the joy of my heart,
for I bear your name,
Lord God of Armies.”
Jeremiah 15:16 CSB

Read today’s Scripture slowly. Read it again.

Now let it turn our hearts to prayer.

Lord God,
Please fill me with Your Word. 
Satisfy me with Your wisdom, truth, and love. 
Woo and convict my heart with Your great redemption story.
May Your words be my joy and my delight — sweeter than any dessert I could crave.
Thank You for allowing me to bear Your name, to be made in Your image.
You created me to hear Your voice. I am listening.
Yes, Lord, help me listen.
Amen. 

The Master Gardener + Recipe for Blueberry Chip Muffins

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“This is what the kingdom of God is like. A man scatters seed on the ground. Night and day, whether he sleeps or gets up, the seed sprouts and grows, though he does not know how.”
Mark 4:26-27 NIV

The kingdom of God is like the seed that grows, regardless of our understanding or attention. Its growth is guaranteed, and its longevity is eternal. In other words, when it comes to spiritual botany, God is always at work even when we are not.

He’s a Gardener of green things, living things. What He plants grows. What He nurtures thrives. What He loves blossoms.

So while I may never master my green thumb, I love a Master Gardener. He is tending His seeds even now, doing work I can’t see and performing life-giving miracles I’ll never comprehend. His kingdom is one that will never end. And that means I can rest, because tomorrow will be filled with the color of new life.

by Michele Cushatt, as featured in the (in)courage 2024 Agenda Planner

Does anything scream SUMMER like a garden. . . or a blueberry muffin?? How about one bursting with fresh berries, both sweet and tart in one bite, and maybe a melting slab of butter dripping down the side?

If that’s your idea of a good time, then have we ever got the recipe for you! Invite girlfriends over for brunch in the garden and serve these delicious Blueberry Chip Muffins with a fresh pot of coffee. It’s the perfect way to spend an early summer morning. Or make a platter full for your next family gathering or to bless your neighbors. (And read till the end to find the perfect serving pieces!)

Scroll down for the recipe (courtesy of our friend Nancy) and download a FREE printable recipe card! As you assemble these for a special breakfast or summer hang out, take a breath, pause for a moment, and consider how loved you are by the One who planted, created, and still tends all things.

Blueberry Chip Muffins

Download the FREE recipe card here!

Prep Time: 15-20 minutes
Bake Time: 20-25 minutes
Makes 12 muffins.

INGREDIENTS:

  • 1 2/3 cups all-purpose flour
  • 3/4 cup granulated sugar
  • 1/2 tsp. salt
  • 1 Tbsp. baking powder
  • 1/3 cup canola oil
  • 1 large egg
  • 1 tsp. vanilla extract
  • 1/3 cup plus 1 tbsp. half & half
  • 1 cup fresh blueberries
  • 3/4 cup white chocolate chips

INSTRUCTIONS:

  1. Preheat oven to 350 F. Line a muffin pan with 12 paper liners; set aside.
  2. Blend flour, sugar, salt, and baking powder in a medium-sized bowl.
  3. Mix the oil, egg, and vanilla extract in a small bowl, then mix in the half & half. Pour into the flour mixture and mix everything together until just combined.
  4. Fold in the blueberries and white chocolate chips, mixing them into the batter.
  5. Spoon batter into the prepared muffin cups. Bake at 350 F for 23 to 25 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.

NOTE: You can substitute milk or semi-sweet chocolate chips for the white chocolate chips.

To get the styled look Nancy created here, use the Grateful and Thankful 2-Tier Stand, add cream and sugar to the Simply Elegant Sugar & Creamer, pour hot coffee into a pair of Grace & Gratitude Heirloom Mugs, and use the Grace & Gratitude Accent Plates to serve the muffins. Finish the spread by setting out extra berries in a Grace & Gratitude Dip Bowl, and you’re ready for a beautiful brunch!

Find these lovely pieces and more at Mary & Martha by DaySpring.

May you be reminded that the Master Gardener adores you, and may you remind those gathered at your table of His love too.

You Don’t Have to Be Strong All the Time

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I honestly wasn’t sure I would make it to meet my son.

It was the end of March in Minnesota, which meant we were stuck in this in-between — close to warmer days but still absolutely frigid. Slushy streets, overnight freezing. Misleading sunshine with wind chills still in the single digits.

In a lot of ways, waiting for my son to come was like waiting for the seasons to change. Days upon days, I felt like I was losing my mind, wondering if spring would ever come.

Then, on a Monday well after his “due date,” he started to make his way into the world. Not unlike his older sister, he was born in the dead of night, darkness coating the entire experience. It started out peaceful, quiet, and serene . . . but quickly turned into a nightmare. In fact, that’s exactly what I remember incessantly repeating: This is my nightmare. This is my nightmare.

Let me explain.

In 2019, I confidently went into labor with my first-born. I felt strong. I knew I had what it would take to “make it happen,” mustering up the energy and resolve to blaze through delivering our daughter — even in utter exhaustion. This experience ran parallel to an overall theme of over-functioning in my life, where I would often push through and make things happen . . . even at a detriment to my own body and mental health.

By the time I went into labor with our son, a couple of years later, I felt like a completely different person. The year 2020 changed me. (Let’s get real — it changed all of us). For me, this change brought a lot of healing into my life, learning to slow down and be more gentle with myself. I went into labor this time softer. I was able to stay grounded and connected in my body and soul, as well as know the safety and care I had in the team surrounding me.

About halfway through, though, and well into pushing, something stalled. As it turned out, my anterior cervical lip was stuck. Basically, my baby was low enough to trigger my body to push him out though my cervix wasn’t ready. I went from thinking my baby would be in my arms, in mere minutes, to laboring with no end in sight. I cannot adequately explain how excruciatingly painful those next few hours were . . . both physically and mentally.

“You’re going to need to power through,” said my midwife.

It felt like, once again, I was thrown back into that “survival mode” mindset of trying harder. Pushing through. Making it happen. How defeating it was to be stuck on that familiar path. Even more so, I was reeling emotionally. I wondered, Why is this happening to me? Why does it have to be so hard? With what little capacity I had to even think between contractions, I wondered what would have happened if this was happening to someone else, someone who didn’t seem like they’d be strong or capable enough to handle it. 

To be honest, in that moment, I didn’t want to be strong anymore.

I wrestled with God, on my hands and knees, angry that it couldn’t be easier for me. I felt lost, alone, disoriented, and all-too-responsible for the task at hand. I wanted to give up. I wanted to give in to the despair and disappointment, believing I would always be stuck in the tension of difficult and demanding circumstances.

Ultimately, I did deliver a healthy, albeit massive, boy. And, though my body was able to release a baby, my heart could not release the questions I carried or the emotions I felt. What followed were months of postpartum complications, emblematic of a whole life lived in tension. From appointments to specialists to testing and retraining my body, the results all concluded the same diagnosis: I Cannot Relax.

I had to, and still have to, learn to rest. To be cared for and carried just as much, if not more, as what I think is expected of me.

Author and therapist Aundi Kolber says, “Strength does not mean only surviving, but also receiving — having places you feel safe, where you can rest, where you can feel cared for.”

That familiar pathway of holding it together can actually expand into a freeway, journeying alongside others that care for me and carry me when I can’t make it. Where there are resources and help along the way. Where I can learn the “unforced rhythms of grace” that Jesus invites us into. Where the way to the destination is less of a crash and burn and more of a stream in the desert. Where I can relax into the love of my Maker, the Sustainer of my soul.

I don’t have to be strong all the time. It’s like what I tell my kids every night when I tuck them in. “You can rest. You can relax. I’m right here,” I tell them.

I believe God tells us the same.

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

Your Reminder That Jesus Is Already in the Boat

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My phone buzzes. I’m losing the baby, she texts.

Heart sinking, I start writing back to my friend — right when my youngest rushes into the kitchen crying. I toss aside the phone, grab paper towels, and start dabbing his weeping eyes and bleeding knees.

Once his cries have quieted down, I reach for the phone again to respond — only to find a message from another friend. We can’t save this marriage. I’m leaving him.

Bewildered, I lean my back against the wall, my heart aching in a new direction. I hadn’t even gotten to update this long-distance friend on my latest hard health news, but now she’s hurting even more. I whisper a quick prayer and tap out a quick promise of love and support.

While I’m typing, a notification pops up. Today is the anniversary of my uncle’s death, a reminder I set to reach out to my mom and tell her I’m thinking of her on a hard day. But then two more kids burst in the back door, reminding me we’re late to soccer and need to go, go, go. 

Come back to all this later, I promise myself, shoving my phone in my pocket as we rush out the door. 

Jesus, cover it all because I can’t.

Later that night, I’m counting on my fingers all the people who need prayers. Weeping mothers on the news. Families going through desperate times. Friends trying to conceive. Loved ones freshly grieving. Exhausted caregivers. Everyone without enough food, without work, without peace, without a home.

In hard seasons, the life of faith can start to feel like a triage station in the emergency room. Who’s bleeding out? Who’s sick and shaking? Who might be able to wait a moment while we care for others who need it now? 

How often do our texts, emails, and DMs pile up like a heap of prayer requests? Some days I want to step outside and stare up at the sky, shaking my fist and crying out, Don’t You see how much we’re suffering down here?

This is exactly when I try to remember: Jesus is already in the boat with us.

As a child, I’d always pause on that dramatic picture in my Bible. Jesus stretching out His hands over the crashing waves as His friends cowered in the boat. Jesus calming the storm as His friends lifted their eyes to heaven and prayed.

I believed it was a story of a one-time miracle, a powerful show of Jesus’s command over the forces of nature. Little did I know it was the way Emmanuel always is with us.

He’s already in the boat.

The miracle of the story is not simply that Jesus can control the wind and waves. It’s also the truth that God is right next to us during the most terrifying and trembling moments of life. The Incarnation allowed God to come so close to us, to become one of us, to live alongside us — so that whenever storms raged or skies darkened or boats shook, we would know that Jesus was right there.

He’s already in the boat with us.

Like Jesus’s friends, we might feel like we’re shaking Christ’s shoulders, wanting to waken him to the storm that’s gathering around us. We might be crying out in fear, needing Him to know we can’t control the way we’re going.

But no matter what happens, He’s right next to us in the boat.

I can’t save my friend’s baby or marriage. I can’t take away the grief of family members or strangers. I can’t end a war, stop a flood, or feed a hungry world. But the point is not to get our prayer list to inbox-zero. We’ll never reach the end of every need, not this side of heaven. 

But we can cry out to God about every storm we see — not only for ourselves, but for those we love (and those we don’t know). We can trust that grace is at work to calm what we cannot control, even if it takes longer than we want.

During the hardest moments of my life, the best support that anyone offered was the simple, steady reminder that they were in the boat with me. A quick daily text. A photo of a candle lit in prayer. A meal dropped off on the doorstep. A card saying “I’m here for you.” 

How much more powerful and comforting to remember that Jesus is always here in the boat with us, too.

Emmanuel, the God-in-the-boat, knows every storm, every downpour, every barreling wave that threatens to topple us. He has never left our side.

His presence is peace. His trust is deep. His whole life is given for us.

Later that night I sink onto the couch, the house finally quiet and calm. I start replying to everyone I’d been holding close, all those I love in the midst of their own storms. Can a text mend a grieving heart? Can a prayer find lasting love for a friend? Everything feels insufficient.

But then I remember the disciples’ cries to Jesus — “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?”—and the way He woke right up to calm the wind and the sea (Mark 4:38 NRSV).

If He’s here in the boat with us, too, then He’s still waking up every time we call His name.

He has never left us alone. 

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