The Scandal of God’s Mercy

The Scandal of God’s Mercy

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He was furious. And only the glass of the driver’s side window separated us. I knew he wanted me to lower my window, but I hesitated, bracing myself for whatever happened next. 

A few minutes before, I’d pulled our boat trailer out of a parking spot and headed toward the boat ramp where my husband and daughter waited. We’d spent the morning and early afternoon enjoying a day on the lake. We’d planned to stay longer, but a storm rolled in. So I’d rushed to get the trailer, anxious to get my loved ones off the lake before the lightning and thunder hit. 

Little did I know, a bigger storm was headed my way. As I drove through a complicated parking lot, trying to get to my family while keeping an eye on the incoming storm, I must’ve cut in front of another driver who was also trying to pull his boat out of the water. Of course, I didn’t know this as the red-faced man stood on the other side of my window with murder in his eyes. 

Every nerve stood alert as I slowly lowered my window. 

“Can I help you?” I asked.

I will spare you his vitriolic language. In short, he proceeded to accuse me of all manner of parking lot etiquette offenses. It’s remarkable how quickly the brain processes danger, absorbing information and attempting to determine the best course of action. The man’s rage was barely contained, all reason gone. I had every right to defend myself and give him a dose of his own medicine. He was out of line, and someone needed to call him on it. 

But that day, I didn’t.  

“I’m so sorry,” I apologized, hand on my chest, attempting to keep my voice calm and earnest. “I had no idea. I didn’t see you.” 

His tirade stuttered, but didn’t quite stop. 

I repeated myself. 

“I believe you. Based on what you’re saying, I’m sure I did that.” I nodded. “It’s just that I didn’t see you. I was so focused on the signs and trying to turn the right way, I completely missed seeing you doing the same. Again, I am so very sorry.” 

It was as if my words absorbed the oxygen out of his. His rage dissipated, his face returned to a normal color, and his words evaporated.

“Why don’t you go in front of me?” I encouraged him, smiling. “I’m not in a hurry. Please, go. I can wait.” 

He shook his head and backed away, telling me it was fine. I smiled and offered another apology, then wished him a good afternoon. And that was that. In moments, the storm was gone. 

I wish I could tell you I handle all heated exchanges with the same amount of calm. I don’t. When it comes to personal relationships, I often turn defensive rather than disarming, critical rather than conciliatory. I defend my rights and match another’s anger with a healthy dose of my own.

The problem is that anger and defensiveness are completely ineffectual in putting out a fire. They only add fuel to it. 

Mercy, on the other hand, acts like a balm on a wound, water on a flame. It breathes life where there is death, shines light where there is only dark.  

I thought mercy was something that was earned. By definition, however, mercy is something you give when it is not deserved, not earned.

Mercy is choosing pardon over punishment, forgiveness over fury, kindness over contempt. Not because they deserve it, but because they don’t. To be clear, mercy is not codependence or covering up a crime. That would be enabling. Mercy, sourced in divine love, always has the other person’s best interest in mind. It pays the price of someone else’s mistake, absorbing the expense and covering the cost. 

Why? Why would we offer mercy when someone deserves anything but? 

“Don’t you see how wonderfully kind, tolerant, and patient God is with you? Does this mean nothing to you? Can’t you see that his kindness is intended to turn you from your sin?”
Romans 2:4 NLT

We offer mercy simply because we are sitting on storehouses full of it. As people who have already received an ocean of unearned, undeserved mercy and forgiveness from a good Father, we have more than enough mercy to spare for those who are desperate for it. Mercy transforms broken people, builds bridges in broken relationships, and heals wounds that have long refused to heal.

It’s scandalous, God’s mercy.

The one thing we are so reluctant to give is the very thing we (and our world) need most.

Ultimately, we must choose. Will your life be marked by offense? Or by God’s mercy? Choose the first, and you’ll find yourself surrounded by raging fires that consume your joy. Choose the latter, and those who receive your offer of mercy might learn something of the unearned, undeserved mercy and forgiveness of God for themselves.

 

Listen to Michele’s devotion here or on your favorite podcast app. 

A Cup of Kindness: How a $10 Gift Card Reminded Me of God’s Love

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Church hurt is awful. If you’ve ever experienced it, you know what I mean.

I’ve recently been in one of those seasons — the kind that leaves you weary and broken-hearted. When many people you love and care about are also sad, disillusioned, struggling, confused, or angry. When finger-pointing is rampant and people disappoint you on a level you didn’t know was possible. When your eyes are irritated with their own planks.

Humans are so human, and we sure can make a mess of things.

We flail around trying to handle life and all it hurls at us in our own strength, only to realize eventually that self-reliance is folly. We forget that our battles are not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world forces of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places. We have a hard time remembering to be strong in the Lord and in the strength of His might. If we remembered this, then we would have everything we need — truth, righteousness, peace, faith, our salvation, and God’s Word — to resist evil and stand firm. (See Ephesians 6:10-18 NASB.) As this passage teaches, spiritual warfare requires spiritual weapons.

I’m finding now, as I’ve discovered so many times before, that when we come to the end of our abilities, experience, and wisdom – to the end of ourselves – there’s room for God to show up and do what only He can do. Frequently, He will teach us something we need to learn. Sometimes, He’ll bring physical healing. And, in some cases, when you least expect it, He’ll work through people to encourage you when you’re at your lowest.

He did this for me just a few weeks ago when a text popped up on my phone, alerting me to a $10 Venmo notification with a note that read, “Coffee on me—love you <3”

A simple gesture paired with five words and a heart emoji. That little gift from a friend spoke volumes. It wasn’t only about receiving a cup of coffee — it was about being noticed, valued, and loved. It was a gentle nudge to stop focusing on the circumstances I found myself in and to remember that God is at work no matter how I feel, regardless of the tempest engulfing me.

In this unexpected moment, God whispered a sweet truth to my heart: “If a friend notices your need and cares enough to respond, how much more do I see you? How much more do I love you?”

Jesus reminds us in Matthew 6:8, “Your Father knows what you need before you ask Him.” That gift card was tangible proof of God’s attentive love, delivered through the kindness of a friend. Her ten-dollar gift far exceeded its actual value because of the message it conveyed, one I desperately needed: I am with you in this storm. You are not alone.

The brokenness in our church and in my own heart wasn’t suddenly mended, but for a brief moment, I caught a glimpse of God’s love for me. 

When the world is reeling all around you, centering on God and His Word brings calm and clarity. God cares for even the smallest details of our lives. Remember Luke 12:6-7? Even a sparrow is not forgotten by God — and we are worth far more than sparrows. If He knows every hair on our heads, He certainly knows when our hearts are tired and our spirits need refreshment.

The unexpected Venmo reminded me of something else, too: God often uses people as vessels of His love. Whether or not she knew it, my friend’s simple act of generosity was a holy assignment. 1 John 4:12 (NIV) says, “No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us.” My friend was doing important kingdom work — allowing God’s love to flow through her to encourage me.

Ever since I received that $10 cup of kindness, I’ve been asking myself, Who needs a reminder of God’s love today? Because it doesn’t take much — a small gift card, a handwritten note, even a quick text — to reflect the heart of God.

Maybe you’re in a weary season, too, and you could use today’s reminder: God sees you. He cares for you. And He will provide for you in unexpected ways, maybe even through the kindness of a friend..

This truth isn’t new. We’ve known it for centuries: Sometimes, the smallest gifts carry the biggest messages. After all, Jesus came as a baby, right?

 

Listen to Robin’s devotion here or on your favorite podcast app.

Open the Gift Anyway

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I have two kids, and they are both so different. My son is your typical boy who doesn’t know what to do with all that energy inside his tiny body. My daughter is the calm one who loves reading a book or playing the piano.

Even as babies, when we would get them a new toy, my son would beat it, bite it, bang it, and figure it out with full enthusiasm and zero hesitation. Meanwhile, my daughter would carefully analyze it with her eyes and inspect it with her hands, but would wait for us to show her what to do with the toy before she would actually play with it. Almost like she was waiting for permission.

I used to think it was just her temperament — thoughtful, cautious. But the older I get, the more I realize: she got that from me.

She inherited that quiet perfectionism and fear of failure from her mama.

This has been a struggle most of my life, and something I have to intentionally fight, even now.

Often, when God gives me a gift — a calling, a nudge, an opportunity — my first response isn’t to take it fully and explore it. I want to obey, but I hesitate. I circle around it with prayers for clarity and confirmations. Not because I’m holy, but because I’m scared. Scared to mess it up. Scared I’ll do it wrong. The fear of failure disguised as waiting on God.

Waiting for someone to come open the door for me or walk in with me. Waiting on God to make it easy and clear.

But here’s what I’m learning: God doesn’t hand us gifts with strings attached. He hands them with trust. He trusts us with good gifts without expecting perfection.

Throughout Scripture, we see the same pattern: God doesn’t wait for people to be ready.

Moses was a runaway with blood on his hands, but with faith, he raised his staff and watched God part the sea. David was a young shepherd, but with faith, he slayed the giant. Peter was a fisherman, but with faith, he walked on water.

But don’t forget, they all messed up, too.
Moses struck the rock in frustration.
David abused his power.
Peter denied Jesus three times.

The heroes of our faith didn’t get it all right either. God knew they wouldn’t, but He chose them and gave them the gift anyway.

If perfection is the goal, we will always live in fear. Thank God, He just wants us to be faithful.

He is more concerned about our hearts than the gift. He is not going to get mad if we make a mess. Friend, we are not powerful enough to mess up God’s plans. So be wise, but don’t use prudence as an excuse.

What gift is God giving you? What call has He placed on you?

Is it starting a podcast? Writing a book? Joining the worship team? Opening a business?

You don’t have to figure it all out before you say yes.
You don’t have to be the best to begin.
You just have to open the gift in faith.

Over the years, my daughter has received enough gifts from her parents that she is no longer cautious or waits for permission to play. Because she knows us. She knows that we love her, so she can trust us with the gifts that we give her.

“Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights…”
James 1:17 ESV

The gift is good because it is from our Good Father.

I wonder what it would be like to see our Heavenly Father watching us unwrap the gifts He’s placed in our lives. I don’t think He’s standing with judgment, as we unwrap them. He’s not impatient when we fumble, nor does He yank the gift away when we don’t get it right the first time.

No, I believe He watches like a proud Father — delighting in our joy, our awe, and wonder. He smiles when we take that first uncertain step of faith.

He gave us the gift not because we’d handle it perfectly, but because He loves us deeply.

You don’t need to wait for permission. You don’t have to wait for perfect circumstances. If God was ready to give it to you, He knows you are ready for it. The gift is yours — open it.

 

Listen to Simi’s devotion here or on the (in)courage podcast wherever you stream!

Who Are You. . . Really?

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“See how very much our Father loves us, for he calls us his children, and that is what we are!”
1 John 3:1 NLT

“Who are you?”

If someone asked you that question, would you know how to answer?

You might say, “My name is so-and-so.” Or maybe, “I’m Bobby and Cindy’s mom.”

You might respond with, “I’m a teacher” or “I work at a doctor’s office.”

If you’re married, you might say, “I’m married to Joe.”

But none of those things define you. Until you know who you really are — not what you do or whom you’re related to — you will struggle to know your place in the world.

Before there was a husband or kids or a job, even before you drew your first breath, you were a child of the Most High God. And you’re still His kid, even now. Once you realize Whose you are, you can know who you are.

When you come to fully understand what that means, when you have rooted and grounded your identity in Him, then your response to the “Who are you?” question will be made easier. You are a daughter of the King, fully loved and cared for. A plan has been in place for your life before you were ever even born — you are entirely unique, entirely special, entirely adored.

Knowing who you are will help you stick to your guns when you need to. But most of all, you’ll have the assurance that the same God who created daffodils, cumulus clouds, crystal-blue Caribbean seas, and teensy-tiny tadpoles, created you as well. And He adores you with a love that goes beyond anything you could imagine.

This loving, gracious Creator has big things planned for you. The reason you can be assured of the fact that you have brighter days ahead is because He’s the one illuminating them. And no one does a finer job of lighting your path than He does!

AFFIRMATION: Today, I choose to recognize Whose I am so that I can fully understand who I am.

GOD SAYS: “God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and truth.” John 4:24 ESV

TRUTH FOR TODAY: I am not defined by my talents, abilities, or physical appearance, but by how deep my roots go down in Him.

REFLECTION: If someone were to ask, “Who are you . . . really?” I would respond . . .

Discover the beauty of hope in the midst of hard times. That’s the message of Hope in the Hard, a journal full of relatable devotions, inspirational quotes, selected Scriptures, and prompts for reflection designed to help you process your emotions and gain a hopeful outlook during challenging seasons. Easy-to-digest stories and encouraging reflections — like the one above! — will remind you that there is purpose in your difficulties and that you are not alone as you trek through the unbearably familiar or the unnerving unknown.

This journal is SO unique and would make the perfect gift for a dear friend who needs a dose of hope, or for yourself if you’re walking a new path.

Pick up your copy of Hope in the Hard here, and leave a comment answering the reflection question above. We’ll mail five commenters* a copy of this new devotional journal.

 

*Giveaway open to US addresses only until 8/22/25 at 11:59 pm central.

Enter The DaySpring Daily Devotional Bible for Moms Giveaway!

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We welcome Trieste Vaillancourt, DaySpring Editorial Director and the writer behind the devotional content in the DaySpring Daily Devotional Bible for Moms! Keep reading for a special excerpt from her heartfelt introduction and selected sections from this meaningful Bible, then enter for your chance to WIN a copy!

I wrote the devotional thoughts for the DaySpring Daily Devotional Bible for Moms over the better part of a year. And as you can imagine, spending so much time in intimate connection with God’s Word has changed me. I am more aware of His presence in my mothering. I am more thankful than ever that I’m not alone. I am humbled by His desire to come with me into the weeds of everyday life, and I find it easier to worship Him there. I am praying for you to experience the same and more.

“God looked over all he had made, and he saw that it was very good!”
Genesis 1:31 NLT

I want you to know that God sees you as His beloved and beautiful daughter.

I want you to know, from the moment your alarm goes off in the morning to the moment your weary head hits the pillow at night, that God made you to thrive as a mom.

Motherhood, as wonderful as it is, can steal your sense of self-worth. That sometimes happens when you become responsible for little children who tend to take you and the peace and stability you give them for granted. You are an umbrella for them in a rainstorm of worldly influence, and they shelter under your protection. You are a voice of assurance in the face of young and budding courage. You are the hand holder, the healer, the hug that means the most. Your deep love for them fuels their sense of adventure and their understanding of just how much they are loved by the Creator of the universe.

Motherhood is a gift — one that would deplete our physical, emotional, and spiritual resources every day if it weren’t for God’s willingness to fill us up as we pour out what we have. Knowing how much we need Him, God invites us to shelter under His protection, find reassurance in His voice, and be loved by His generous heart. And He invites us into His Word.

I imagine that, like me, you could use a reminder of how much you mean to your family. You might appreciate knowing that the Lord knows you personally and cares about you deeply. You would benefit from hearing the truth of how you, a devoted mother and follower of Jesus, are making an indelible and eternal mark not only on your children but also on history.

But there are plenty of things in our daily lives that can make us feel like we’re not measuring up. Maybe it was as simple as getting all the clean laundry folded. Perhaps you resolved to play with your kids more or refine your meal plan. No matter your goal, you might be the only one who sees the way you fell short of your own expectations. But you still beat yourself up for not accomplishing what you set out to do.

Motherhood is not a series of accomplishments, and its success is not measured by the checks on our to-do lists. Our heavenly Father wants us to know that He made us and considers us very good whether the laundry gets folded or not.

Being one of God’s very good creations is not something that can be checked off a to-do list. We can’t just make it happen any more than we can make toddlers eat their Brussels sprouts or teens clean their rooms. Instead, the Bible tells us that God made us in His image and blessed us (Genesis 1:27-28). This means that we are important and loved before we ever do one single thing.

As mothers, we tend to beat ourselves up because we don’t feel like we measure up. But for every shortcoming, God’s grace is sufficient. Every time we pray, “Help me, God! I can’t, but You can,” God leaps to the call and gives us just what we need. Genesis 1–2 reminds us that God made everything, including and especially us; and when He looks at us, He sees something very good. God cares about the things we care about — our unfolded laundry, our meal plans, our children’s futures — but He doesn’t expect us to make it all happen on our own.

So admit your weakness and who you are as God’s good creation, and let God show you the amazing things He can do in and through you!

You were handcrafted and handpicked for this family, for this season, for this life, and God says this is “very good!”

Lord,
Whatever my goals are for today, I trust that You want me to thrive. Remind me that You made me and called me good before I even did anything. Help me to model this truth for my children. Thank you for creating all of us.
Amen.

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you discover more about your value in His eyes through the daily devotions and profiles of women and moms highlighted in this Bible and — even more importantly — throughout His Word.

You are loved. You are seen. You are not alone. You are the mom God made you to be.

—

We love this new DaySpring Daily Devotional Bible for Moms! This clear and accurate NLT edition includes 365 encouraging devotions created specifically for moms, 31 profiles of biblical women to encourage you, daily prayer prompts to remind you of God’s presence, wide margins for journaling and reflection, and a full-color interior design to enjoy as you read the Bible in a year.

This Daily Devotional Bible for Moms was created with busy moms like you in mind ― real moms with real life joys and challenges. You’ll be encouraged with daily reminders that God sees you, loves you, delights in you, and is with you always.

Pick up your copy today, and jump into our GIVEAWAY! Yep, we’re super excited to give away the Daily Devotional Bibles for Moms right here. Just leave a comment, and you’ll be entered to win*.

For  moments of bite-sized, consistent, truthful encouragement, the DaySpring Daily Devotional Bible for Moms is just the ticket. We know you’ll love it.

 

*Giveaway open to US addresses only.

Find My Friends … and Fix My Control Issues

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I have an app on my phone that gives me the illusion I’m running a tight ship. It’s called “Find My Friends.” But really, it should be called “Find My Control Issues.”

Thanks to this handy little dot-tracking miracle inside of my phone, I can see where my daughters are at any given moment. (Please don’t tell them I can still track them. They’re in their early 20s now, and I’m trying to be chill.)

Lydia recently finished her master’s at Cambridge in England, and I loved watching her dot cruise alongside cobblestone streets, like something out of a storybook.

And Anna is about to move to Indonesia to serve full-time in ministry, which means her dot will soon be floating on the other side of the world.

You’d think I’d be obsessively monitoring their global whereabouts. But oddly enough, I checked that app waaaay more when they were teenagers – especially during winter mornings while they drove to school. I’d refresh the screen frantically, trying to make sure our daughters made it safely.

If the dots froze on the screen?

Clearly, they were in a ditch.

And if the dots moved too fast?

Probably an ambulance.

One day, I told a friend how “responsible” I was, with all my dot-watching. She didn’t miss a beat: “Wow,” she said dryly. “It’s incredible how your obsessive tracking prevented all those accidents.”

Touché.

That’s when it hit me: Sometimes my so-called “care” is really just control dressed up as concern. I had confused vigilance with virtue, anxiety with love. And in trying to play God, I was missing the peace He actually promises.

Hi. My name is Jennifer, and I’m a recovering control freak.

Over the years, my control freakery has affected my parenting, for sure. But truthfully? I have actually wanted to run the show in nearly every other area of life, too.

For a long time, I lived like God was a helpful assistant instead of the actual boss of my life.

I wanted His help – but only if He stayed in His lane. If I truly let Him lead, I was afraid of what would happen.

I’d hand over my marriage … sort of.
My kids? Okay, but only if You promise nothing bad will happen, God.
My finances? I mean, I’d like to trust You, but the electric bill is due Tuesday.

Letting God lead felt so risky, so out-of-my-hands.

But maybe the greatest freedom begins when we admit we were never meant to be in charge in the first place.

I looked at the way John the Baptist responded when people asked who he was. His answer? “I am not the Christ” (John 1:20 ESV). Just like that, John drew an important boundary between who he was, and who he wasn’t.

I didn’t cross-check the Greek or anything, but I’m pretty sure God isn’t taking applications for His position.

Repeat after me: “I am not the Christ.”

We can stop trying to run the world and instead remember that we are not the Savior, not the Solution, not the CEO.

We are beloved followers of the One who doesn’t need to refresh a phone screen to see where His children are.

When we stop trying to be Jesus, the astonishing result is that we actually become more like Him. We hear the Father more clearly. We see the paths before us. We become more like Jesus, not by trying harder, but by trusting deeper.

Today, if you’re tempted to track everyone and fix everything, take a deep breath and say it one more time:

“I am not the Christ.”

And then?

Rest in the beautiful news that you don’t have to be.

 

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

You Were Made for Rest

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“Then Jesus said, ‘Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.'”
Matthew 11:28 NLT

If you’re tired — bone-deep, soul-heavy tired — you’re not alone.

The world keeps spinning and the demands don’t stop. Your people need you, your inbox overflows, the dishes multiply, and maybe your own thoughts feel louder than any voice in the room. You keep going, because you have to. But friend, you were never meant to live like this.

You were not made to work 24/7.
You were not made to carry the weight of your marriage, your mental health, or your child’s future.
You were made for reliance — not on yourself, but on Jesus.

In Matthew 11:28, Jesus doesn’t say, “Come to me after you’ve figured it out.” He says come to me, weary and burdened. And in exchange for your exhaustion, He promises rest — not just physical relief, but rest for your soul.

Let that sink in.
Jesus doesn’t ask you to hustle harder.
He invites you to rest deeper.

Rest doesn’t mean everything gets done. It means you remember who God is and who you’re not. He is your Provider, your Protector, your Healer, and your ever-present Help. He carries what you can’t, fills what’s empty, and calms what feels out of control.

So exhale. You don’t have to be the hero. You just have to be held.

A Prayer for Rest:
Jesus, I am weary. I confess that I’ve tried to carry too much for too long. Help me release what was never mine to hold. Thank You for seeing me in my exhaustion and inviting me into Your rest. I trust You to meet my needs — physical, emotional, spiritual. Teach me to rely on You moment by moment. I don’t have to do it all, because You already have. In Your name I rest, amen.

 

The Glory of the Middle of Your Story

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When I gave my life to the Lord four years ago, I was given a conviction: Take people on a journey. Invite them into the middle.

I grew up in church, but not with Jesus. The name of God was passed around my home, but I didn’t see His love lived out. Soon, I became an adult and started making my own choices. Most of those choices led to destruction and rebellion. When I was in my darkest moments, I remember choosing to watch testimonies. I was curious about God, but I was also afraid of Him.

I felt too far from Him to reach out and trust that He would be there. So, instead, I watched hours of testimonies on YouTube. Some days, I’d come home from living in ways that killed me from the inside out and, with tears streaming down my face, I would look up testimonies. I needed to know that Jesus cared about my story and that I could encounter Him in the middle of a journey like mine.

For seven years, I would watch stories, I would watch and listen, and read stories more than I would read my own Bible or pray. I could not comprehend the possibility of the goodness, love, and hope of a God who, all along, I believed was far and distant. I was compelled by the testimonies of others and convinced I needed to live another day. For the first time ever, I burned with the knowledge that Someone cared for me.

I gave my life to Christ in 2021 on the floor of my one-bedroom apartment, still deep in sin, grieving, angry, and full of questions. My salvation moment was private. It wasn’t in a room full of cheering people, or in the presence of friends and family. It was alone; it was just me and Jesus. It was uneventful. Still, I knew something changed. With that one choice, my journey with Jesus began. 

Our stories are teachers — teachers to people in the church and outside of the church. Most people are drawn to vulnerability and reality, and this is what I loved about the many testimonies I watched. I saw humanity in their stories, and I could relate to the broken woman or the lost man. Each person spoke from a place of victory, but they were still brave enough to share the messy middle and invite others to believe God can meet anyone in the middle of their own story.

So, today, in full honesty and transparency, I choose to share about my own glorious middle. People can argue with the Bible, they can disagree with facts, but they cannot fight against your story. Your journey, your encounter, your testimony, and your experience of how God revealed Himself to you. In today’s age, we need more stories. We need more testimonies. We need those who will go first and share about their messy middles.

The truth is, you will never be ready to share your heart. You may never be ready to be vulnerable — but that is where Jesus comes in. That is where He will lead your words and guide you to the people who need to hear what you have to say. Yes, we might all still feel fear or worry about our im[erfections. Moses stuttered. Paul killed Christians. Rahab was a prostitute, the list goes on and on. But, yet, all of them submitted their weakness to God, and, more importantly, each of them saw His glory in their obedience.

When I have moved forward in fear, I have always found freedom. When I have acknowledged my weakness, I have always found His strength. Our stories have the power to bring people to the feet of Jesus and the table of plenty. They have the power to bring the Kingdom down to earth. Do it afraid or full of confidence. You never know what your story will do for someone else. 

They triumphed over him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony; they did not love their lives so much as to shrink from death.
Revelation 12:11

The Slow Road to Reconciliation

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Hello. I’m Karina and I’m a slow processor. When I say slow, I mean, ridiculously slow. Think of molasses. When I’m hurt, forgiveness, for me, is the easy part. Forgiveness is an act of the will. I don’t necessarily have to feel it to do it. 

It’s my feelings that are slow in catching up.

I am one of those highly sensitive people who just feel things deeply. I have a million and one feelings. And I have a million and one feelings about those feelings. I guess this is what makes me a good creative — my mind is always thinking, circling, and analyzing on a continuous loop.

I eventually get to a place of healing, wholeness, and possible restored fellowship, but it takes me a minute to get there. Oftentimes, it takes me more than just a minute.

I used to think that there was something wrong with me because I couldn’t just quickly get over something that hurt me or frustrated me or angered me. But God created us all differently, and we process differently. We heal at different speeds. And that’s okay. There is no one way to journey with the Lord in this process. God’s desire is simply that we remain humble, teachable, and dependent on Him. It matters that the process is only unto His glory.

Now, I’ve had my fair share of friendship struggles. But a recent one hurt me deeper than I can adequately convey. I have spent the better part of 2024 and the first half of 2025 in a season of profound sadness. One of the causes for that sadness has been a great rift between me and a dear friend.

There was a string of circumstances where I felt left out, unwelcome, and unloved. Whether or not it was intentional or just my interpretation, those instances simply didn’t feel good. I was so grieved that I pulled back from our friendship. I was already overwhelmed by the season I was in. This proved too much of a weight to bear.

This was the first time in our seven-year friendship that we’d faced anything like this. I wasn’t sure if our friendship would survive. I imagined all the ways this situation could play out. I even wondered if the friendship was worth saving.

Sadly, some fractured relationships haven’t been saved. But I realized this one was most definitely worth it. She realized it was too.

I felt the Lord assuring me that this part of my season would be healed. I just wasn’t sure how. My friend took the first step and asked me to lunch. I took the next step and wrote her a letter. I’ve discovered that I work through conflict best by having time to write out my thoughts and feelings, followed by a conversation, versus having that conversation in the heat of a moment. I guess that’s the writer in me.

Our lunch was sort of an icebreaker. I filled her in on some of the hard I’ve been walking through, and she shared some of the highlights of her recent months. It felt good to reconnect a bit. It was a good start.

A few weeks later, we had another lengthy conversation. This one was more in-depth. My friend was able to respond to aspects of my letter. Misunderstandings were cleared up. Perspectives were shared. The truth of God’s Word was prayed. Prophetic declarations were released. And so many tears were shed.

Colossians 3:13 reminds us of the Lord’s forgiveness towards us. Because of that forgiveness, we are to bear with one another and forgive every grievance against another.

We forgive because we love God.

We forgive because we love others.

We forgive out of obedience.

We forgive because it sets us free.

I’m sure this won’t be the last time my friend and I will be confronted with hurt feelings, confusion, or misunderstandings. But now we have a stronger foundation built on God’s truth and love. Honesty, trust, and vulnerability are leading the way.

Working through conflict and discomfort and heartbreak are never the way I want a friendship to grow, but I am grateful that the Lord proves faithful at every step.

When we yield to the leading of the Holy Spirit, His love overflows. His grace sustains. His Spirit empowers. His peace floods.

I’d love for you to share a testimony of reconciliation! I want to join you in thanking God for this ministry!

 

Listen to Karina’s devotion here or wherever you stream podcasts. 

Hope for the Mama of a Lonely School-Aged Daughter

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My daughter’s friendship situation in high school was, to be blunt, a bunch of crap. Her “friends'” behavior often left me fuming. They’d pretend to treat her kindly one day, only to ghost and ignore her the next. They’d make plans to hang out with her early in the week and cancel the day of. When she’d inevitably tire of their behavior and reach out to new girls, they’d accuse her of acting like she was too good for them.

This hot and cold behavior went on (and on!) within the public school system, which is maddening enough. But when this happens within the context of your church’s youth group, your frustrations level up. Kids who profess to love Jesus all over their social media accounts but in person behave at best unwelcoming and at worst just plain ugly… well, it makes you want to grab a ponytail or two as you initiate some tough-love conversations.

Exclusive, mean behavior can be experienced on sports teams and in school clubs too. Yesterday, my chiropractor shared with me that his freshman daughter struggled to find her people on her high school volleyball team because several of the upperclassmen had a serious mean streak. I told him how sorry I was to hear that as I reassured him that his daughter’s experience isn’t an isolated one.

Ugh, the interpersonal turmoil of high school can be such garbage.

Now, could my own daughter’s experience have been worse? Absolutely. But it could’ve been so much better — she never found her people in high school. Thank the good Lord, though, she did find her people after high school.

If past experiences have you fretting that your beloved child will be lonely this new school year, I’m so sorry. You’re square on my heart, as I know how this can fill yours with anxiety. But as my daughter’s difficult time is now in the rear view mirror, may I, as a mama who has been there, place some hope in your praying hands?

Here are 4 positive things that came from my daughter’s negative high school friendship experiences:

She learned what it looks like to be a good friend. In baptism-by-fire ways, my daughter’s high school experiences honed her friendship-making skills. She learned there are different kinds of friendship, and when a friendship is and isn’t meant to be. Since my daughter was on the receiving end of a lot of friendship-killing behaviors, like fickleness and ghosting, she learned the value of letting her yes be a yes (Matthew 5:37). She also learned how to reach out toward others in friendship instead of waiting on someone else to reach out to her first — a skill that paid off big time in college.

She learned how to process and accept rejection. If my daughter reached out to someone who rejected her efforts, she learned that she didn’t need to take it personally. Oh, it may feel very personal (and all the more when girls who’d accepted her suddenly did an about-face). But as my friend Salena says, rejection is God’s protection against what’s not in our best interest. Rejection is hard and painful, yes. But it’s also an inevitable part of life. It’s something that God uses for us, not against. So, when my daughter was rejected, she learned to trust that rejection from one potential friend meant that God had another friend in mind who would be a better fit for her.

She learned that home was (and is!) a safe place where she’s beloved and welcomed. My daughter was home more than the average kid during her high school years. While I felt sad for her about this, I did my level best to make sure our house was a place where we honored one another in devotion and love (Romans 12:10). Regardless of how friends treated her, she could count on her family to be in her corner. God made her the way she is on purpose and for a purpose, and I wasn’t shy to tell her how thrilled I was that He thought enough of our family to place her within it.

She learned that while friends may fail her, her Friend Jesus never will. Jesus knew what it was to be the friend on the outside (Hebrews 13:12). He knew what it was to be betrayed in epic fashion (Matthew 26:14-18). My daughter learned how to deeply rest in Jesus because Jesus understood how it felt to be lonely even better than she did. She found comfort in His presence like never before.

I’m so thankful to God that my daughter continues to make beautiful bouquets of friends in college and in other places, too. And while I would love for her high school years to have been more friend-filled, God, in His redemptive love, has used that terrible time then to mold her into an amazing woman and friend now. And that benefits her current relationships in ways I never could’ve imagined.

Whatever the age or stage of your school-aged daughter, I pray she has a great start to this new school year. May God bless and keep her and make His face shine upon her by bringing her reliable, relatable, kind-hearted friends.

But if she’s lonely, take heart. High school does end, eventually. And until that time, God is with her in the hallways, lunchroom, and classroom. He’s with you, too, as you pray her through these years.

Find healing from your own friendship struggles and hope for the connections yet to be made in Kristen’s new book, Desperate Woman Seeks Friends. 

 

Listen to Kristen’s devotion here or wherever you listen to podcasts!

When You Can’t See God in the Pain

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We were wrapping up a church ministry meeting, casual mom-chatter humming around the outdoor patio, when a soul-piercing scream cut the air and turned every head. I didn’t realize it was my son until Jude turned around — blood gushing down his little face.

Later, I’d learn he had bent down to grab a rock and gashed his forehead on the jagged edge of a cinderblock planter. Later, my husband would tell me that it’s normal for head wounds to bleed a lot. But in the moment, the only thing I could register was the horror and helplessness of watching my toddler hurt and hysterical.

By the time we got to Urgent Care, the bleeding had slowed, but the evidence of trauma was everywhere — smeared across Jude’s tear-streaked cheeks and soaked into my shirt sleeve where he had buried his little face.

The waiting room felt eternal, though now I know that was the easy part.

Once called back, the doctor quickly determined Jude needed stitches. Any parent knows how hard it is to keep a squirmy two-year-old still and calm on a good day, let alone when a needle is involved. So we agreed to swaddle him tightly — arms pinned, legs tucked — his small frame now restrained for his own good. My husband and I stood on either side, speaking calmly, trying to infuse comfort into chaos.

Then the doctor said she needed to cover his face with a thin sheet of sterile paper to protect the suture site and his eyes.

The moment that crinkly paper settled over Jude’s face — cutting off his vision of us — he lost it.

The entire Urgent Care surely heard his blood-curdling screams.

“Mommy! Mommy! Moooommmmmy!”

He cried out for me again and again, even though I was right there — my voice in his ear, my hands on his legs, my heart breaking in my chest. No matter how I reassured him, as long as Jude couldn’t see me, his terror consumed him.

That was more than a decade ago. The scar on his forehead has faded. But I’ve never forgotten what it felt like to be on the other side of that barrier — aching to rip the sheet away, to cradle my son in safety, to stop the pain. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. Because the barrier was protection, the pain was part of healing, and the distance between us was temporary.

Everyone in the room knew that.

Everyone except the little boy sweating and screaming under a thin veil of paper.

Isn’t that how suffering feels sometimes?

When pain is pulsing through your story and fear is your constant companion, it’s nearly impossible to see anything — or anyone — else. The trial becomes the truest thing. The ache is all you can feel.

And you cry out to your Heavenly Father.

You beg Him to come close. To rescue. To stop the pain.

You wonder why He doesn’t rip off the thing that’s blocking your view, why He doesn’t unbind you, why He doesn’t heal you in an instant. After all, He could.

I’ve asked those why’s too.

I don’t have tidy-bow answers. But I have tasted the presence of God even in the places I couldn’t see Him. I’ve learned that what feels like distance isn’t absence. What feels like silence isn’t neglect.

God is not indifferent to your suffering. He is not removed from your anguish. He’s the Father standing beside you, speaking words of love you may not be able to hear through your sobs. He is the one who is with you even when you can’t feel Him near.

Scripture anchors us in this truth:

“Do not be afraid or discouraged, for the Lord will personally go ahead of you. He will be with you; he will neither fail you nor abandon you.”
Deuteronomy 31:8 NLT

You may be in a season where the pain is loud and God feels hidden. But hold fast to this promise: He has not left. He is not done.

The barrier is not forever. Healing is on its way.

And hope — real, soul-deep, God-given hope — will meet you there.

For regular reminders of God’s presence when life is heavy, sign up for Becky’s new HopeStack newsletter.

 

Listen to Becky’s devotion here or on the (in)courage podcast!

Restored & Transformed

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Hi, friend. I’m so excited to share something really special with you.

My new devotional, Embrace Your New: Discovering God’s Restorative Power, was born out of a powerful encounter with the Lord during a women’s retreat.

While I was singing worship music, God gave me a beautiful vision. He kept telling me to go up and share this vision with the others there. I sat there nervously for a while, then decided to obey His calling. So, I raised my hand to share, stood up, and walked to the front of the room.

I asked the women in the audience to close their eyes and imagine this scene with me. 

“Picture yourself as a wooden dresser being made by the Lord — so beautiful, created of new wood, maybe with some artistic carvings,” I said. “But over the years, you end up getting some dings, you’re painted over a few times, and because of life’s wear and tear, you end up looking like something that’s been put along the side of the road for free. 

“Now picture this: Jesus is carrying you to His workshop. As you see the light coming in from the dusty windows, He gently strips off all that paint, fills in the dings, and restores you to reveal what was hidden underneath all along… so you can see yourself how you are seen by the Lord, restored to your former glory.” 

Friend, we all are broken, and we can all be restored, just as that dresser was, in Christ. The holes will never be perfect, but they can be filled. We all go through a lot in life, but we can be made new by our Creator. We can make a choice to continue down a road that doesn’t serve us, or we can take a new path of healing and restoration. 

Today is the day when you enter the workshop. Take a look around, get used to the surroundings, and know that God is with you, always. In time, He will begin to strip off all the paint, allowing you to get real with yourself and embrace a new you — one that has been hidden inside.

The journey isn’t an easy one, but let me tell you, friend, it will be worth it.

Here’s a sample devotion from the book to encourage your heart…

Be Transformed

“I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.”
Romans 12:1–2 ESV

When I look at my garden, I love to think of how we planted little seeds, and from those seeds, something amazing happened — they turned into green, growing plants that have provided delicious fruit or gorgeous flowers.

Friend, in this restoration process, you can change into something beautiful and joyful, too. You can plant seeds of new thoughts, beliefs, and intentions in your heart, but you also need to water those seeds by nurturing and cultivating them. You can do this by making a consistent, conscious effort to see the “new you” grow. This could involve taking action or creating a supportive environment. But be patient as God grows these actions into something new and exciting, fresh and beautiful. There may be some days in this process that it doesn’t feel like it, but it is happening! Good things often take time to achieve. 

Shedding layers and becoming made new isn’t easy, and often it takes the tears and pain of learning more about yourself and uncovering things from your past. But know that God made you with the ability to change. Just because you carry wounds from your past doesn’t mean you can go back and fix them, but you can decide today to change and be restored rather than staying stuck in your old patterns. You can start to emerge from the seed, as you grow toward the light. Remember, friend, with God, all things are possible! 

Friend, read Romans 12:1–2 again. Then know — and believe — that you can be transformed by the renewal of your mind. Certain patterns and ways can be changed as new pathways are created. It takes time and repetition to allow being made new to happen. But with God’s help, you can be transformed. You can do this! 

Life takes its toll. The more we experience, the more we may start to see ourselves in light of what’s happened to us instead of what God thinks about us. In fact, we may fear that our damage is irreparable, and it may keep us from drawing closer to Him. In Embrace Your New, Melissa reminds readers of the depth of God’s compassion and the strength of His restorative power. It will refresh your mind and heart with the truth that God makes all things new, especially us!

We LOVE this devotional, and to celebrate its launch, we’re giving away FIVE copies*! To enter, just leave a comment below. Then tune in this weekend on the (in)courage podcast for a bonus episode with Becky and Melissa. You will be SO inspired by their conversation!

*Giveaway open to US addresses only, and closes on 8/18/2025 at 11:59 pm Central.

All Is Well (Even When It Really Doesn’t Feel That Way)

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The night before I drove to the leasing office to sign a stack of papers that would make the overwhelming decision official, I stood in my apartment and slowly spun around. What do I pack? What can go right now and what will I still need here for the days in between, as I put my life into boxes and move from one place to another?

I filled three or four bins and then my eyes landed on three words, a phrase inside a blue picture frame, and I knew I needed to lead the way – not because they felt accurate, but because they’re abundantly true.

All is well.

When I wrote my first book, Even If Not, I invited several artists into the process. Each chapter begins with an illustrated quote from the pages that follow, and as I turned in a circle in the place that has been home for ten years, the print with three words from chapter two caught my eye.

For nearly a decade of days, the simple but striking reminder of “all is well” has sat on the end table in my living room, a constant visual in every season and situation.

I needed it in a new way this year. Within four weeks, everything shifted from staying put to signing papers for my own little home. The wild whirlwind wasn’t my plan or my preferred timing, but as I walked inside the new place and set the frame on a cherrywood shelf, I whispered the words to my own heart:

All is well.
It’s true and coming truer.
Things will change, but that promise will remain.

Whatever we’re navigating today, in a few weeks, it’ll be a slightly different story. A new chapter, perhaps, or a new line on the same page, but something will have shifted. Our opinion. Their response. The weather. An answered prayer. A closed door. Their attitude. Our bandwidth.

The list could go on because the possibilities of new are nearly endless. In the midst of changes and challenges — some that are expected and others that are entirely unanticipated, some that feel like a nightmare and others that look like a dream come true, and still more that fall somewhere in between — what I find myself coming back to the most is simply this:

God has been, God will be, and I am not alone.

By that I mean: God’s character is sure and solid and steady. It does not shift in changing circumstances. Come what may, His character remains what it has been and is and always will be.

He is the God who sticks it out, who suffers with, who stands beside, who sits in the silence, who sings in the shadows, who steadies our racing mind and pounding heart, who stills the storm and shares with abundance and says things might shift but He will stay.

Old Testament and New, the promise holds true. It’s in His name; it’s who He is.

I AM, a present-tense God. (Exodus 3:13-15)
Emmanuel, God With Us. (Matthew 1:23)

After deep cleaning every last inch of the apartment, after placing the final box of odds and ends in my car, I reached for the last thing left inside: a green sticky note taped to the door.

“It’s the end of an era” I said quietly, my voice echoing in the emptiness. One last time, I stood in the place that has seen my biggest heartbreaks, thousands of sleepless nights, exciting news, and so much laughter, and I stared at the faded paper in my hand. It read,

“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

I wrote the words on that sticky note as a reminder to myself in high school, took it to college and kept it on my dorm room desk, and then taped it to my bedroom door after I graduated ten years ago. You could say I’ve carried this verse with me, but the deeper truth is that the words have carried me through seasons and storms, through both brutal and beautiful days.

I’ve seen those lines every day for half my life, and although the last thing moved out and the first thing carried into the next chapter doesn’t have to mean anything at all, it was a small way to intentionally mark the moment, the new thing, with words that are weighty and that mean much more than simply letters on a page.

The little green note that lost its stickiness years ago is framed now. It sits by the print from my book, two ever-true reminders that greet me each time I walk through the front door into the new.

I don’t know what stories the walls of this old house could tell. I don’t know what they’ll see next, what seasons I’ll navigate in this place I’m learning to call home. But I know the first lines of the new page:

All is well, right here and right now, because He is a God who doesn’t change. He’s the God who makes a way. He’s the God who stays.

All of the art prints from my book are available as free digital downloads on my website! Enter your email at this link and they’ll be on the way to you within minutes.

 

Listen to Kaitlyn’s devotion here or on your favorite podcast app!

For the Woman Who Needs Direction

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“If you need wisdom, ask our generous God, and He will give it to you. He will not rebuke you for asking.”
James 1:5 NLT

The novelty of summer has faded, the routines are blurred, and maybe your soul feels just as wilted as the potted plant on your porch that you keep forgetting to water.

You’re tired.
Tired of juggling needs, navigating decisions, trying to hold it all together.
Tired of not knowing what’s next or how to get there.
Tired of wondering if you’re doing any of it “right.”

Sister, if that’s you — if your heart feels heavy or your mind cluttered — lean in close:

God has not left you to figure it all out on your own.
He sees you, He is with you, and He generously offers His wisdom when you ask.

You don’t have to know the whole path forward.
You don’t need to have the perfect plan.
You just need to be held by the One who already knows the way.

Summer can feel like a wandering place — a little lost between what’s behind and what’s ahead. But God is not lost, and you are not forgotten. His wisdom is not a treasure buried deep for the worthy to uncover. It’s freely given to the daughter who simply asks.

James 1:5 promises that when we need wisdom, our generous God will give it, and He won’t shame us for needing help. Isn’t that beautiful?

So today, instead of spiraling in uncertainty or wearing yourself out with worry, pause. Breathe. Ask.

God, what do You want me to know right now?
What is the next right thing You’re inviting me into?

And then — wait for the whisper. He will speak. Through His Word, through His Spirit, through the quiet nudge in your heart or the peace that settles where anxiety once lived.

Friend, you’re not drifting. You’re being led. Not by pressure or fear, but by the faithful wisdom of a God who loves you.

Even in the middle — especially in the middle — His guidance is steady. His truth still stands. His presence never leaves. And His wisdom is the light that will lead you through.

Let His voice be louder than your inner critic. Let His promises anchor you when your to-do list overwhelms. Let His counsel carry you forward, one simple, Spirit-led step at a time.

You are not directionless.
You are not too late.
You are not alone.

Prayer:
God, You know the weight I’m carrying and the questions I don’t have answers for. Thank You for being my steady guide. Quiet the noise around me and within me so I can hear Your voice. Give me Your wisdom for this moment, this decision, this day. I trust You to lead me, one step at a time. Amen.

 

How God Met Me in My Fear of the Water

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The swim instructors separated everyone into groups of three. My group included a three-year-old girl with long dark hair, a five-year-old girl with red hair and freckles, and me. Parents sat around the perimeter of the pool, excitedly watching their children, cheering, and capturing every moment on film. However, no one was there clapping or cheering for me . . . a thirty-two-year-old woman at a swim school for small children.

As a young child, I escaped learning to swim after several failed attempts. Then, at around age nine, an angry adult forced me into the deep end of a pool and held me under, determined to make me overcome my “discomfort” and teach me to swim. For years after, I couldn’t bear water in my face. Water gun fights and bobbing for apples were unthinkable activities. Showers were difficult. And as friends enjoyed summers in the pool, I felt fear and shame. I even avoided being baptized for years due to the prospect of being fully immersed.

As an adult, I logically knew that I could learn to swim. God made our bodies buoyant, and people can learn to breathe underwater. Still, believing I could swim wasn’t as easy knowing I could. Thankfully, after the gentle encouragement of a Bible teacher, I came to believe that God wanted me to trust Him with this fear.

Determined to learn how to swim, I enrolled for swim lessons at a swim school for children. I felt very terrified and self-conscious. But for the sake of my toddler, and for my own sake, I wanted to overcome this fear that gripped me. I wanted my son to enjoy the water without my panic in the background.

As I entered the pool, I tried to ignore the other parents. I tried to remember that the eyes of my Heavenly Father were upon me. I sensed God smiling because this wasn’t just about learning how to swim. This was a deliberate decision to revisit trauma and the fear that crippled me. This was about trusting God in a way I could not ever imagine.

As the instructor led the three-year-old across the pool, the five-year-old looked into my eyes and excitedly said, “Do you want to practice elevators?” My first thought was, “Absolutely not! I don’t want to go down under the water and pop back up.” But . . . when a freckled, five-year-old smiles wide and grabs your hands like she’s your best friend, you say, Yes!

This five-year-old girl wasn’t afraid — and she showed me I, too, could be strong and courageous. So, she held my hands, and we went up and down in the water. I don’t know how I did it, but I did! That little girl will never know how God used her to help me, how meeting her was a divine appointment.

God met me in the pool that day. He knew I was scared, embarrassed, and full of shame. But I showed up, and He met me there, in the fear. God provided someone to be with me that day. His message was tender: “I see you, and you don’t have to do this alone.”

In the following months, my life took an unexpected turn — a turn more terrifying than my fear of the water. My obedience to God in learning how to swim and allowing Him to enter into my past pain, made it easier to walk with Him through new traumas of the present.

I went on to take adult lessons, learning how to swim at a local YMCA. It was not easy; I often prayed in the water and brought to mind Isaiah 41:10 (NKJV), “Fear not, for I am with you; Be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, Yes, I will help you, I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.”

Now, I continue to swim several days a week — and each lap declares victory. As I swim, I pray . . . and I remember how God is good and that He meets us in our fears. He can calm the storm within, and He is fully trustworthy. He upholds us with His righteous right hand . . . even in the water.

Depression Doesn’t Distance Us from God

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Two years ago, my therapist told me I was depressed.

Not only that, but she told me I had likely dealt with undiagnosed depression most of my life. I didn’t want to believe her. Sure, there were signs. The symptoms listed in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (the standard guide for mental health diagnoses) matched the symptoms I dealt with in my everyday life. Still, I pushed back against her assessment. I didn’t want to wrestle with accepting and admitting that depression has affected, and still presently affects, my life.

Although I have never been non-functional or bedridden, and although you likely wouldn’t suspect it from the outside looking in, there have been periods of time in which merely existing has felt like trudging through waist-deep wet cement. The heaviness of depression that presses down is relentless, and it often comes on without warning. Maybe that kind of slog is familiar to you, too — the effort of going through the motions, of putting one foot in front of the other, of pushing forward when everything in you wants to stop moving. It makes the usually vibrant world dim and dull.

I panicked when my therapist put a name to that dark, depression I’ve come to know, as if naming it somehow made the darkness more real than it otherwise was. Without a name, I could believe the depression was something of my own making, something I could turn on and off at will. While therapy, prayer, spending time outside, and staying connected with people I care about certainly helped push back the darkness, if I believed her, if I believed I really did struggle with a depressive disorder, then it meant I wouldn’t be able to work myself into the light. The thought of that was terrifying.

For most of my life, I believed it was my responsibility to position myself in the light, to chase after God so closely that I was caught in the glow of His glory. I thought any darkness I found myself in was a direct result of my own (probably subconsciously chosen) inadequacy or inaction, and that when I found myself there yet again, there would be no light in my life until I got myself back on track. I put pressure on myself to perform my faith perfectly, something that left no room for grace to meet me in my humanity. But scripture invites us into a different truth.  

Micah 7:8 ESV says, “Rejoice not over me, O my enemy; when I fall, I shall rise; when I sit in darkness, the Lord will be a light to me.” When depression strikes and we find ourselves in darkness, we haven’t fallen out of God’s view. He doesn’t leave us to our own devices, waiting for us to find our way out without as much as a glance over His shoulder. Instead, God shows up where we sit in the darkness, and He becomes our way through.  

God doesn’t wait for us to get better or be stronger to draw near. He doesn’t run from us when our brain chemistry shifts or when our lives become more difficult. He is present even when everything feels muffled and heavy, and even in the spaces I once thought of as empty and abandoned.

Depression doesn’t distance us from God. Depression, a darkness we can’t fully control or conquer, becomes the very place where we can experience the patience and love of a God unwilling to leave or forsake us.

Listen to today’s devotion here or on your favorite podcast app.