The Thing That Really Matters as a Woman

September 17, 2023 by (in)courage

Charm is deceptive, and beauty does not last;
but a woman who fears the Lord will be greatly praised.
Provers 31:30 NLT

We are constantly bombarded by ads for for the latest and greatest, most effective, must-have beauty serum and anti-aging cream. We’re told beauty is found in a bottle and it’s worth whatever the cost may be. The world tells us that pursuing beauty and charm will have the biggest payoff for our lives, relationships, careers, self-esteem. Be the prettiest, fittest, best girl-boss, do-it-all mom and then you’ll have the life you always dreamed of. Defy aging and you’ll be praised by society.

There’s nothing wrong with being beautiful. The Creator Himself deemed us fearfully and wonderfully made. He delights in His creation. Indeed, we are His masterpiece!

But outward beauty is not the mark of a praiseworthy life. Our bodies were made to age, but our fear of God was meant to praised. Fearing the Lord means living with a holy awe of reverence for who He is. Fearing the Lord means surrendering our lives to the only One who is worthy of our praise and trusting His good and perfect will. Now that is something to commit to no matter the cost.

So if you’re looking in the mirror today sister and see your beauty fading, take heart! Your worth is so much deeper than your skin.

Hope in the Middle of the Storm

September 16, 2023 by (in)courage

As evening came, Jesus said to his disciples, “Let’s cross to the other side of the lake.” So they took Jesus in the boat and started out, leaving the crowds behind (although other boats followed). But soon a fierce storm came up. High waves were breaking into the boat, and it began to fill with water. Jesus was sleeping at the back of the boat with his head on a cushion. The disciples woke him up, shouting, “Teacher, don’t you care that we’re going to drown?” When Jesus woke up, he rebuked the wind and said to the waves, “Silence! Be still!” Suddenly the wind stopped, and there was a great calm.
Mark 4:35-39 (NLT)

The story of Jesus calming the storm is told in three of the four Gospels: Matthew, Mark, and Luke. Each account describes a trip across the lake after a long day of teaching. Jesus — who was fully God yet also fully human — was understandably tired and took a nap. While He was sleeping, a great storm blew in. Just as the waves threatened to overwhelm the boat, fear threatened to overwhelm the disciples.

We often react the same way, don’t we? We can become overwhelmed by external circumstances (relationship troubles, job loss, debt, too many demands on our time, parenting, caring for elderly parents) or by internal conditions (fear, anxiety, depression, anger, resentment). And when it feels like the winds of those overwhelming storms might knock us down for good, we frequently find ourselves looking around frantically. Can anyone help me? Does anyone notice what’s going on here? Who’s in charge? Where is God in all this?

We can become so overwhelmed with fear or pain that we lash out, looking for anything to stop the storm. We might begin to seek solutions or solace from anyone or anything that offers a substitute for real hope or help. We turn to Google or Facebook, a punishing workout, or a numbing drink. All the while, God is holding us in His hand. He isn’t asleep, and He hasn’t forgotten about us — even when in our panic we’ve forgotten about Him.

Like the disciples in the boat with Jesus, we desperately need hope when life is overwhelming and we’re tempted to panic and forget what’s true. But while we’re all going to falter in our faith at times, it’s what we do next that counts. Will we spiral deeper into panic and doubt? Or will we acknowledge God’s presence and power and turn our focus back to Him?

In Mark 4:39, to stop a raging storm, Jesus utters just three words: “Silence! Be still!” These words echo Psalm 46, which begins with a familiar declaration of hope: “God is our refuge and strength, always ready to help in times of trouble” (v. 1 NLT). Toward the end of that psalm, God says, “Be still, and know that I am God!” (v. 10 NLT). We see a similar command even earlier, in the book of Exodus. As Moses attempts to calm and reassure the Israelites during their escape from Egypt, he says, “The Lord will fight for you, and you must be quiet” (Exodus 14:14). Other translations of that verse say you must “remain calm” or “keep still.”

When we read these passages together, a clear picture is formed of a God who can win wars and calm storms with a single word. So even though our life may feel like pure chaos as we juggle (and drop) balls in our attempt to manage everything on our own, He is not just offering us a lifeline. He is our lifeline. He is our rope of hope when we are overwhelmed, showing us again and again that He is our best and only hope.

This devotion is written by Mary Carver, adapted from Create in Me a Heart of Hope .

True or False: You need hope today.

No matter who you are or what you’re going through, we all need the kind of hope that lasts, hope that strengthens and sustains us, hope we get offer to others (because when they see our lives, they’re going to want it!).

This is exactly what you’ll discover in the Create in Me a Heart of Hope Bible study! We’d love to give you a FREE WEEK to get started! SIGN UP HERE.

For When You Find Yourself Asking God, “How Much Longer?”

September 15, 2023 by Kaitlyn Bouchillon

“How much longer?” the small voice asks from the car seat, barely fifteen minutes into an eight-hour drive with extended family. I smile at my toddler cousin, but after the fifth or sixth time, I realize: This is the very thing I’ve been asking God. Maybe you’ve wondered this, too?

Day after day after day. Prayer after prayer after prayer.

We collectively stand in grocery lines and sit in uncomfortable chairs at Urgent Care. We listen to elevator music while we’re placed on hold and submit resumes as the bank account dwindles. We wait and pray. We wait and hope. We wait and wonder, “How much longer, God, until You heal what’s broken? How much longer until there’s a diagnosis, a baby, a restored relationship, a job, a way through the seemingly impossible?”

It isn’t that we don’t trust God’s goodness and sovereignty. We’re strapped in, seat belts buckled, certain that God will bring us all the way Home. We know the storm won’t be the end of the story, but, well, we wonder exactly how long the storm will rage.

Or, at least I do.

I often think about how it’s a gift that many stories in Scripture are familiar to me. I’ve heard the names since childhood and can usually recall bullet points or at least a few details. But there’s a danger: I forget the timeline. I forget just how long these real people sat in metaphorical “waiting rooms.”

Noah didn’t build the ark overnight. It took many years before the project was complete and rain fell for the first time.

Sarah and Abraham longed for a child, and for decades they received disappointment month after month after month.

Joseph was seventeen when his brothers sold him into slavery; he spent years in prison and was nearly forty when his family arrived in Egypt during the famine.

Moses fled Egypt and lived in Midian for forty years before he saw the burning bush.

The Israelites wandered in circles, walking laps around in the wilderness for forty years.

David waited many years between being anointed as king and sitting on the throne.

The people of God waited 400 seemingly silent years between Malachi and Matthew, longing to hear a word from the Lord.

Jesus waited thirty years before beginning His public ministry.

There are plenty of times things changed in an instant, but waiting, it seems, is woven throughout Scripture.

I think of this as I walk through an outdoor labyrinth in my city. The summer sun beats down, warming the carefully arranged stone pavers. I begin, slow and steady, and quickly realize that I can’t look too far ahead. The entire path is clear from above but from where I stand the view is limited. I blink back tears as it weaves in and out, nearing the center only to curve out once again, and I say out loud in the empty garden, “This is what it feels like right now, God. Each step brings me closer, but I’m literally wandering in circles here. All I can do is take the next step, trusting the path will lead where it has promised but not knowing what it will bring along the way or how long it will take.”

Of course, I’m talking about more than a narrow path underneath my feet. There are waiting rooms I’ve been in for so long now that I know every piece of art on the wall, every chair that wobbles, every crinkle and crease of old magazines stacked on the side table. More than a decade has passed and I’m still here, still praying and believing, trusting and weeping, asking and hoping. Still waiting.

Step after step after step. Lap after lap after lap.

What I want is a miracle — and instead, I receive just enough strength to carry through the day. I keep praying for power that heals and restores — and He gives grace that sustains. It feels like manna, like exactly enough for today and no more. Nothing extra, nothing in the reserves, no stockpile set aside for a rainy day, a long night, or a winter that endures.

But always, manna.

“How much longer until XYZ?” I wonder, knowing the path is clear from above. “I won’t leave your side. I’ll be there every step of the way,” God seems to whisper in the wind, the leaves swaying with the afternoon breeze. It’s not the answer I’m asking for, but it’s the promise I need. And miraculously it turns out to be no less of a miracle, the grace that sustains when winter endures.⁣

Manna after manna after manna. Mercy after mercy after mercy.

Looking back, fingerprints of His faithfulness mark every page. God was there then and He’s here now, with us in every waiting room, working for our good and His glory. Remembering God’s past faithfulness helps us hold tightly to joy in the present and hope for the future. That doesn’t eliminate our questions, but it reminds us of the story beneath the story: it won’t be long now until winter permanently gives way to resurrection.

One day “how much longer” will be no longer.

One day, everything will be colored the shade of restoration.

But for today, we hope. We pray “on earth as it is in heaven.” We remember that God will not be rushed, but neither will He be late. We wait and we trust and we find that it’s true: God really is going to carry us through.

If you’re asking “How much longer?” and you’d like more encouragement for the waiting room seasons, Kaitlyn’s book Even If Not: Living, Loving, and Learning in the in Between will help you choose hope for tomorrow when today feels like a question mark.

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

God Hears and Is Near When Your Heart Is Heavy

September 14, 2023 by Twyla Franz

Sometimes, news hits like a gut punch, right smack in the normal hubbub of dancers switching classes and dance moms chatting in the lobby. Sometimes, in an instant, everything changes and falls far from normal.

You try to keep your voice chipper because she’s already cried enough tears, and you’ll let yours come later. But your voice still cracks and wavers because the heaviness of life-will-never-be-the-same-again is a lot.

In the coming weeks, you’ll hold both what you know and what you don’t yet know in the open palms of your hands. You’ll pray on your knees and with your face pressed to the floor. You’ll accidentally smudge the lyrics of that worship song that you wrote in the margins of Psalm 139, because you can’t turn down the volume of grief.

Even then, you’re not ready for the crushing details when there’s a re-diagnosis. Late one night, you hold your cell phone to your ear with one hand and, with the other, you’ll press a pen to a torn paper towel, outlining bleak snippets.

The next morning, you turn on “Worthy of It All” . . . that song you play on repeat. You place your Bible (opened to Psalm 139:8-11) next to the paper towel scribbled over with your notes. You read aloud through the chapter. You’ll insert their name and read those dear words like a prayer:

If she goes up to heaven, you’re there.
If she goes down to the realm of the dead, you’re there too.
If she flies with wings into the shining dawn, you’re there.
If she flies into the radiant sunset, you’re there waiting.
Wherever she — all of us — go, your hand will guide us; your strength will empower us.
It’s impossible to disappear from you or ask the darkness to hide us, for your presence is everywhere, bringing light into our night.

As you pray, sing your favorite worship song on repeat, and recite Scripture, you begin to feel anchored to the unchanging truth that God is good . . . nevertheless. You begin to remember that He is kind, compassionate, and present — whether the healing comes on this side of heaven or not.

He’s the sort of God who finds us there on the raw edge of all that splinters and dead-weights; the sort of God who sits with us in our pain. And though our bodies are frail and hearts are busted, His promises never waver, never break.

He is the Hope-Light in the dead of night. The Gentle Guide of tender, aching hearts. The One waiting, listening, embracing us at every turn.

If you were to pull old journals off shelves and out of boxes, you’d find records of prayers big and little answered. Not always with a yes, but with an assurance that God hears and is near.

As a kid praying about things like misplaced cell phones, retainers, and return tickets home, you couldn’t see how the practice of praying in the “now” would teach you that God can always be trusted. Through it all, you’ve learned to go to Him quickly with all your thin hopes and insistent worries, knowing that everything that matters to you weighs on His heart too. You’ve learned you have His full attention and affection. That, God holds back none of His raging love for us, no matter how He answers.

As a college student, spending countless hours with open Bible and face pressed to the carpet, you couldn’t yet see how you’d need the things that crack you wide open to remember you know God differently on your knees. But now you see the gift in seasons of stretched-out waiting, urgent praying, and good things breaking. Because grace is in the things that make you seek Him . . . and you finally see this whole time, He’s been teaching you to treasure His presence over answered prayers.

God’s goodness is steady through every bend and valley. He’s with us in the miracles and the sunrises bursting wild through dark clouds. He’s also near in the grief and groan that makes the space between heaven and earth paper thin.

Indeed, He hears . . . and He is near when your heart is heavy.

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

The Thing You’ve Got to Know When Your Motivation Is Waning

September 13, 2023 by Lucretia Berry

Last night I hardly slept. I was haunted by the heaviness of insecurity and anxiety. My thoughts hastened from disappointment, “I wish I earned more money,” to doubt, “Did I somehow miss God along this path? Did I veer right when God was leading me left?” Answers and clarity did not come in the night’s darkness. I tossed and turned, anxious to be rescued by the light of day. But also, I was exhausted and needed a good night’s sleep. As you can imagine, as the sun rose to greet me, I retreated, burying myself beneath my comforter.

Aching from the wet blanket of a night, my body could not be motivated to move. I just wanted to lay in bed and take a personal day from being me. I wanted to quit — quit my purpose, quit my rationale for being here, quit my raison d’etre. I wanted to conjure up a different purpose – one that feels more simplistic and affable – a purpose that doesn’t ask me to be the administrative assistant and personal Uber for three brilliant and talented children and their two cute Aussiedoodles, while designing and teaching a high school elective on anti-racism, leading a nonprofit, writing encouraging blogs, publishing books, consulting with schools, coaching executives, and managing menopause! I love all the things that I get to do (except for menopause). But in the darkest hours of the night, I longed to be a highly-paid IT professional who gets to work a thirty-hour week and leaves all her company cares at the office when she goes home to her family who has nowhere important to be.

As I got ready for school after my sleepless night, I fought to sense God’s tangible presence. I wanted to feel motivated. I prayed, Today, I don’t have it in me. God, You’re going to have to show up for me.

Walking through the school lobby on the way to my classroom, I paused to read the whiteboard, intentionally positioned to grab the attention of passers-by. A handwritten quote read:

“Don’t expect to be motivated every day to get out there and make things happen. You won’t be. Don’t count on motivation. Count on discipline.” – Jocko Willink

In a world that constantly preaches the gospel of motivation, I sometimes find myself seeking that fleeting feeling of enthusiasm and inspiration to propel me in my purpose. I look for external factors to ignite the fire within, to keep me going when the journey gets tough. For example, I often wonder if earning a lot more money would make me feel validated and stimulated. But God’s divine purpose calls me to a different standard — one that transcends the whims of emotion and taps into the wellspring of unwavering determination.

The apostle Paul, in his letter to the Philippians, speaks about pressing on toward the goal. This pressing implies a continuous effort, regardless of external circumstances or internal fluctuations of motivation.

It’s easy to start with a burst of enthusiasm, but what happens when that initial fervor begins to wane? This is where discipline steps in. Discipline is the steady anchor that keeps us rooted in our purpose, even when the winds of doubt and weariness try to sway us.

When we understand that our purpose is not contingent on fleeting feelings but is a divine calling, we can appreciate the importance of cultivating discipline.

In Philippians 3:14, Paul encourages us to press on toward the goal of winning the prize for which God has called us. Notice that it’s God who has called us to this purpose. It’s a calling that’s uniquely designed for us, tailored to our strengths, talents, and experiences. This realization strengthens our resolve and reminds us that quitting isn’t an option. Only we are designed to fulfill this purpose, and quitting would mean leaving a void that no one else can fill.

Consider the story of Nehemiah. He faced incredible challenges while rebuilding the walls of Jerusalem. He encountered external opposition, internal doubts, and the temptation to give up. However, he recognized the importance of his role in fulfilling God’s purpose. Despite the weighty difficulties, he pressed on with unwavering discipline. And because he didn’t allow his motivation to determine his commitment, the walls were rebuilt!

Tonight, as our heads hit the pillow, let’s remember that motivation may ebb and flow, but purpose remains constant. Let’s embrace the truth that we are uniquely designed for our purpose, and quitting is not an option. God can help us cultivate the discipline needed to get out of bed and fulfill His given purpose. Just as Paul pressed on and Nehemiah persisted, may we too stand firm in our resolve to fulfill our purpose, regardless of how we feel.

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

How Eavesdropping Changed the Way I Live (the way we all should live)

September 12, 2023 by Becky Keife

We withhold our friendship until we know whether we will get along or if they always wear that much perfume. Have you ever been guilty of judging someone by a first impression? Maybe even assigning value based on their surface appearance? Gulp. I have. And if you’re honest, I’m guessing you’re not exempt either.

It’s not that every person needs to be a BFF or trusted confidant or an intimate part of our lives. But every person does deserve to be respected and treated with kindness. So rather than leading with subtle scrutiny and secret judgment, what if we made acceptance our default? What would happen if we automatically saw the new guy at work or the woman behind us at church, the family that just moved in next door, or the parent standing alone on the soccer sidelines as a welcomed new friend? What would happen if we treated every “new kid” (young or old ) as wanted, welcomed, delighted in?

Sit with that for a minute.

Often, when we think of encouragement, we think of building up, complimenting, or supporting the people already intertwined in our lives — our spouse or sibling, child or parent, coworker or best friend. That is so good and beautiful and necessary. But at its core, encouragement stems from the basic acknowledgment that every person deserves to be seen, valued, and accepted. So it’s not just the kind words we say, but the welcome that we live.

Here’s the great news: We can all be encouragers wherever we are, wherever we go! We can invite the new parent at the PTA meeting to sit next to us. We can hold the door for the mom whose arms are full of groceries and babies. We can smile wide and say hello to the neighbor who speaks a different language. We can leave a little potted plant on the new girl’s desk at work with a sticky note that says, “Welcome to the team. I’m here if you need anything.” We can acknowledge someone we cross paths with today, look them in the eye, and tell them we’re so glad they’re here.

After dropping Jude off, I walked back across the blacktop, through the freshly cut grass, and out the rear school gate with a smile stretched across my face. Two six-year-olds were simple difference makers — not only to the new students they welcomed but to me — a thirty-something woman who merely overheard their kindness was impacted. And now the ripple extends to you as I share their story. The students at Cullen Elementary School were there to learn, yet able to teach so much.

May the learning (and jump-for-joy encouraging welcome) continue with us.

This article is an adapted excerpt from Becky’s book The Simple Difference: How Every Small Kindness Makes a Big Impact. Snag a copy for more heartwarming stories and practical ways to live a life of kindness and encouragement every day.

“Now may the God who gives endurance and encouragement grant you to live in harmony with one another, according to Christ Jesus, so that you may glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ with one mind and one voice. Therefore welcome one another, just as Christ also welcomed you, to the glory of God.”
Romans 15:5-7 CSB

September 12th is National Day of Encouragement, a day set aside to bring encouragement to others. As a valued member of the (in)courage and DaySpring community, we know you share encouragement all year round – thank you! We want to help you be ready to cheer on others not only on the National Day of Encouragement, but on any day.

Celebrate this fun day with us all month long; place an order at DaySpring.com and you’ll receive an exclusive National Day of Encouragement greeting card for free! The card includes a QR code to a FREE Bible reading plan as well. Spread God’s love with DaySpring’s selection of encouraging products and join us in celebrating the National Day of Encouragement!

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

The God of All Comfort Remembers Our Pain

September 11, 2023 by (in)courage

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and the God of all comfort. He comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any kind of affliction, through the comfort we ourselves receive from God. For just as the sufferings of Christ overflow to us, so also through Christ our comfort overflows.”
2 Corinthians 1:3-5 (CSB)

As we remember those we lost on this day twenty-two years ago, let’s sit in these words from 2 Corinthians. The Father of mercies and the God of all comfort is with us. He has not forgotten our grief nor the pain that continues to linger from the aftermath of tragedy.

And as we are comforted by Him, may we offer the same tenderness to others today.

Please join us for a moment of silence today in remembrance of every victim, loved one, and first responder impacted by the September 11th attacks.

Listen to today’s brief devotion at the player below, or wherever you stream podcasts.

This Is Hard to Do, But We Can Do Hard Things

September 10, 2023 by (in)courage

Do everything without complaining and arguing, so that no one can criticize you. Live clean, innocent lives as children of God, shining like bright lights in a world full of crooked and perverse people. Hold firmly to the word of life; then, on the day of Christ’s return, I will be proud that I did not run the race in vain and that my work was not useless.
Philippians 2:14-16 NLT

We live in a culture of complaining. It’s normal (even expected) for everyone to complain about how tired and overworked they are. It’s common for wives to complain about their husbands and children, single people to complain about dating, widows and empty-nesters to complain about being alone. When it’s cold we complain about the cold; when it’s hot we grumble that it’s too hot. So often the weather is never right, circumstances could always be better, and the grass is seemingly lush and green everywhere but beneath our own two feet.

We also live in a culture of arguing. From politicians at every level to professional athletes in the middle of a game, from school board meetings to social media comment threads — the shouting and name calling is deafening. We live under the assumption that the louder you are and more talking points you have, the better chance you have to win the argument (and isn’t coming out on top no matter the cost the point of it all? or so culture screams).

This isn’t new information.

But it’s worth stating because the contrast to our call as Christians is glaring.

Paul exhorts the Philippians with words we desperately need two-thousand years later: “Do everything without complaining and arguing . . . Live clean, innocent lives as children of God, shining like bright lights in a world full of crooked and perverse people.”

The way of culture is not the way of Christ.

The constant flood of arguments and complaints have settled over us like dark, relentless clouds. This is why God wants us to live another way! So we can shine like bright lights! So our lives can point others to the light of Christ.

So how do we break free from the patterns of culture? “Hold firmly to the word of life.”

God’s Word is the only thing that can truly light our paths and tame our tongues — for our good and His glory.

The Real Hero of Every Story

September 9, 2023 by (in)courage

Then the word of the Lord came to him: “Go at once to Zarephath in the region of Sidon and stay there. I have directed a widow there to supply you with food.”So he went to Zarephath. When he came to the town gate, a widow was there gathering sticks. He called to her and asked, “Would you bring me a little water in a jar so I may have a drink?” As she was going to get it, he called, “And bring me, please, a piece of bread.”

“As surely as the Lord your God lives,” she replied, “I don’t have any bread — only a handful of flour in a jar and a little olive oil in a jug. I am gathering a few sticks to take home and make a meal for myself and my son, that we may eat it — and die.”

Elijah said to her, “Don’t be afraid. Go home and do as you have said. But first make a small loaf of bread for me from what you have and bring it to me, and then make something for yourself and your son. For this is what the Lord, the God of Israel, says: ‘The jar of flour will not be used up and the jug of oil will not run dry until the day the Lord sends rain on the land.’”

She went away and did as Elijah had told her. So there was food every day for Elijah and for the woman and her family. For the jar of flour was not used up and the jug of oil did not run dry, in keeping with the word of the Lord spoken by Elijah.
1 Kings 17:8-16

Have you ever felt at the end of your rope, like all hope was lost? Like if God didn’t intervene ASAP, you weren’t going to make it? No doubt that’s how the widow felt. She was ready to fix a final meal for herself and her son and then just give up.

But what does Elijah say to her after hearing about her dire situation? “Don’t be afraid” (v. 13). It’s not an emotional putdown, but a call to courage.

The assurance of God’s presence and His power working on our behalf is why we can be courageous. Both Elijah and the widow were unable to provide for their own needs. So not only was God inviting the widow into a moment of courageous kindness, but He was asking the same of Elijah.

The economy of God is a strange and miraculous thing. The more you give, the more you receive. The more you pour out, the more He fills you up. Elijah was fed by ravens, the widow’s final provisions were multiplied beyond reason, and her little boy was brought back to life.

It’s tempting to read a story like this and focus on the obvious characters. Elijah showed up at the widow’s home and asked for a loaf of bread. The widow dipped her hands into the jars of flour and oil and formed the ingredients into loaves. Elijah took the lifeless boy from the widow’s arms and cried out to God for his life. Elijah and the widow both showed courage, but they are not the heroes of the story — for it was God’s power on display!

Friend, living the simple difference and choosing a life of courageous kindness doesn’t happen by our own strength but by God’s strength in us. We start where we are, give what we have, and God does the rest — more than we could ever expect.

God, thank You for again reminding me that You are compassionate, gracious, slow to anger, and full of loving kindness. I acknowledge my great need for You. I offer my life — all that I have and all that I am — for Your glory. Use me to show someone else Your kindness this week. Amen.

This devotion is from our Bible Study Courageous Kindness: Live the Simple Difference Right Where You Are, written by Becky Keife and featuring stories from our (in)courage contributors. We’re pretty convinced that Courageous Kindness will empower us to change the world — one simple, intentional act of kindness at a time. Get a free week and learn more about the Courageous Kindness Bible study!

When Following Our Creator Invites Us to Something More

September 8, 2023 by Grace P. Cho

We talk about quarter-life and mid-life crises, sometimes as a joke, other times to name our realities, but what do we do when we can’t name the shifts happening within us? How do we find our way through to the other side when we don’t know how to release the restlessness and tensions we feel inside, especially when we don’t know where we’ll end up when things settle down? The internal, invisible shake-up makes me feel like a snow globe in the curious hands of a toddler.

For much of my life, I subscribed to the narrative that to live out your calling with purpose you must find the one thing you’re good at, the one thing you’re passionate about, and you go after it with your whole heart. We’ve all been made with gifts and talents, so the advice was to dedicate our time, energy, and life to that one thing, and over the long haul, it would be called faithfulness.

For me, leadership has always been my thing. It’s a combination of natural gifting, childhood realities as a pastor/missionary’s kid, and my personality. I’ve mostly flexed this muscle in the church, leading ministries, small groups, and Bible studies. I’ve taught and led youth and college students, peers, and even adults older than me. People have long told me I was a wise, old soul, so it made sense that leadership was what I was made for. Even now, without any official ministry titles, it’s still the thing I do best.

I almost can’t help it. If I sense a need, I’m there to fill it. If people need guidance, I’m ready to give it. It’s an intuition I can’t shut off. But these days, I wonder if my strength is the very thing blocking me from growing deeper in my connection to God, others, and myself. Or put more honestly, I wonder if I’m using it to avoid connecting more intimately with God, others, and myself.

By default, I know how to be a leader and a helper. I know when to listen well and when to offer wisdom. I know how to envision a ministry, organize an event, and execute ideas. I know how to be a support and cheerleader for everyone around me. What I don’t know so much is who I am apart from what I can offer others. What joys do I experience if it’s not about helping people? What would I create if I created for fun and not only for the benefit of others? What more would I discover about the depth of friendship and community if I learned to be truly vulnerable so I could be known just as much as I seek to know others?

It would be easier and more comfortable to keep operating in my strengths and live on automatic drive. I think I would still live an impactful life if I did. But as I’m spending time sitting with God as Creator, the story of Creation is giving me a more expansive view of what life was intended to be from the beginning. In imagining it like a child, I see how impossibilities became realities – light from spoken word, physical bodies from dust and breath, every weird and amazing creature made from love. When I take off my grown-up reading glasses and enter into the story like a kid, it’s full of wonder and gasps and clapping with delight.

And in this season of shifts, God’s inviting me to be like a child, to discover what’s possible, and to become like Him in creating beauty, life, and goodness.

And if you, and not only I, said yes to the invitation to be like our Creator and create flourishing, joy, and delight in our little corners of the world, I’d like to believe that together we could hold open the curtain for the kingdom to come through. Perhaps, faith would flicker on in our weary, cynical hearts, and we’d believe again that impossible things can change, that callings and purposes can shift, and that it can all be good even still.

I don’t know exactly what saying yes to this invitation will look like for me, but for now, it means saying goodbye first. For the last five and a half years I’ve had the privilege of being a part of the (in)courage community and our writing team. I’ve loved working behind the scenes, editing my fellow contributors’ words, writing books with them, and creating a space for you, our readers, to feel seen and known. It has meant so much to me to witness God’s faithfulness in this space, and I’m ending my time here with deep gratitude.

So, may we all pay attention to the shifts within us. Perhaps God is inviting us to something more or different or new, and whether we whisper it quietly to ourselves or say it out loud for all to hear, I hope we can respond with our whole hearts, “Yes.”

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

When Your Heart Hurts Over an Adult Child

September 7, 2023 by Jennifer Schmidt

She chased me down in the empty church hallway. Her voice wobbled as she began to speak and a shift in her cadence alerted me that this was a conversation where I needed to stop hustling to the sanctuary. The worship service could wait.

“Jen, thank you for reminding me that we aren’t the only parents struggling in this season.” Her tears started falling. “I never envisioned this stage of mothering — parenting adult children — could be so lonely or that I’d ever be disconnected from one of my children. I’ve asked myself again and again, ‘Did we do something wrong? What can we do differently?’ Mothering guilt is so very painful and I’ve lost so much sleep over his choices.”

For the next thirty minutes, she bared her tender, mothering soul. We carved a connection that only comes when two people cast off appearances, acknowledge shared struggles, and hold each other’s cares with great compassion. I’ve learned when we enter delicate discussions with a quiet and humble heart, then tender conversations can heal instead of hurt.

She felt comfortable approaching me because a few weeks earlier I facilitated our Sunday School discussion on parenting adult children. The first week, our class hosted a panel of younger adults spanning ages from twenty-four to thirty-nine. We encouraged them to speak freely so we could better understand the generation we are parenting. They answered a plethora of dicey questions ranging from “Why do so many young people who were raised in the Church, turn away from the Lord?” to “As parents, we have blind spots, so discuss your best advice that we need to know.” (Their answers were so good! Treat them like adults because they are adults. Less lecture, listen more. Allow mistakes without micromanaging, and more valuable insights.)

The following week we continued the discussion among our peers and I started with C.S. Lewis’s reminder. “Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another, ‘What! You too? I thought I was the only one.’” That is the reassurance we often need in parenting. We are not alone in this journey, yet our parenting stories are so personal. When our hearts splay open as our adult children make lifelong choices that we don’t have the freedom to share, we carry the burden in isolation. It’s understandable to feel a deep ache, but this is when we need each other most; we need mothering mentors to normalize this discussion.

As mommas, we spend over eighteen years comforting our kids and carrying their burdens, nurturing and negotiating their future, naming their pain alongside years of loving, and listening to and learning their hopes and dreams. We lean in and become professors of their personalities, and when we finally launch them to be their very best selves, we pray their biblical foundation propels them to the goodness and glory of the Lord. Yet for many in our Sunday school class, and I’m guessing for many of you too, we’re met with their faith resistance.

There’s a new tension in our hearts. We believe we know what’s best for them, right? (And oftentimes we do!) But while they’ll always be our babies, they’ve left our parental guardianship and are now accountable to the Lord. It’s time to listen more and lean into who they’ve become. It’s an ongoing season of releasing control and managing expectations. It’s a season of surrounding our adult kids in prayer and turning any worries, wonderings, and ‘what ifs’ about their future, their safety, and their choices to the One who knows and loves them best.

Using Colossians 1:9-12 as a model, Paul’s prayer for the church of Colossae is my heartbeat for our five adult kids. I personalize it with their name and pray specifics from this passage to their lives:

“And so, from the day we heard, have not ceased to pray for you, asking that you may be filled with the knowledge of his will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, so as to walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him: bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God; being strengthened with all power, according to his glorious might, for all endurance and patience with joy; giving thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of the saints in light.”

Mommas, take a deep cleansing breath with me. Let’s unclench our fists, raise our open hands, and release our adult children to Him — our Abba Father, Healer, Rescuer, the One who takes this often topsy-turvy world and makes sense of it. Take Heart. He can and will do it!!

My prayer is that all of us will be able to proclaim, “I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth” (3 John 1:4).

What a day of rejoicing that will be.

Our children, their spouses, and our grandbaby are my greatest delight, yet I know the challenges many are facing. I’d be honored to carry this discussion/prayer into the comments.

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

You Don’t Have to Love This in Order for It to Be Beautiful

September 6, 2023 by Becky Keife

Cacti are not my favorite plants. I also don’t particularly like the fact that cacti is the plural of cactus. I wanted to say cactuses. But that’s neither here nor there. Though I was born in Arizona and therefore must have a smidge of desert in my blood, I find cacti more obtrusive than inviting, more awkward than beautiful. I don’t like it when they grow monstrously large and take over an entire yard. And more than once I’ve had to remove painful spines from a child’s hand. I love me some plants and I’m plenty outdoorsy, but a cactus? Not the kind of plant I would ever choose.

Yesterday on my morning walk I passed by a nondescript house with lackluster landscaping, which I have passed by probably one hundred times before. But this time, something caught the corner of my eye. There, protruding out of a bulky cactus was the most delicate white flower. I had to stop and strain my neck to peer around the backside of the formidable plant and fully take in the impressive blossom. Creamy white petals splayed open creating a deep center boasting of intricate light-yellow filaments.

This flower was the only one on a whole cluster of dull cacti. I had never seen anything like it. The protruding bloom wasn’t just an unexpected visual feast for me, it was also a beacon of delight for a handful of bees. The buzzing creatures happily hovered over anthers heavy with yellow pollen, zipping in and out of the cavernous center.

In that moment I was reminded again that beauty can, in fact, be found anywhere – even in a cactus.

As I continued on my walk, I kept thinking about the ugly cacti (ugly in my humble opinion; you’re welcome to disagree) and its one beautiful blossom. And it reminded me of the fact that so often in life, goodness sprouts up from things we would never choose.

I would never have chosen Generalized Anxiety Disorder, but this mental illness has allowed God’s comfort and compassion — and in turn my empathy for others — to bloom in the most life-giving ways.

I would never have chosen for my son to have a visual processing disorder which, several years ago, led us to an educational crossroads where we made the decision to hold him back in school. But that hard circumstance led to God’s protection and provision in so many beautiful ways.

I would never have chosen to be long-term renters instead of homeowners. But despite the fact that our name is not on the house title, we’ve made our current address home for almost a decade. We’ve experienced the wild beauty of opening these rented doors, adding chairs to our table and pillows to the floor, and sharing with others the gift God has entrusted to our care.

Gorgeous flowers that could only bloom from cacti – blessings reaped from un-favorite things we didn’t know we needed.

Think back on your own life and the circumstances you would never choose . . . can you see the beauty? Can you see the goodness that came from that job you didn’t get or that relationship that started out on a rocky foot? Can you see the blessing that sprouted from that difficult diagnosis, cross-country move, or brutal season in parenting?

We serve a God who is in the lifelong business of turning ashes into beauty, weakness into strength, and death into life!

Indeed, “We know that all things work together for the good of those who love God, who are called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28 CSB).

While Scripture is irrevocably true, we can still admit that recognizing the beauty of God’s goodness, kindness, compassion, provision, or grace in our lives does not erase the proverbial cactus spines. Life is still prickly and hard and there will surely be parts we would never choose and would rather avoid.

And guess what? That’s okay.

Cacti are still not my favorite plant, but I can appreciate their potential to produce something beautiful.

May we hold open hands and open hearts to the same potential in all our ugly, uncomfortable, or unfavorite life circumstances today. Beauty may be just around the corner in the place you’d least expect.

For more encouragement on how to see the daily beauty of God’s fingerprints in the midst of life’s prickly and painful moments, follow Becky on Instagram!

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

Walking with the Women of the Bible

September 5, 2023 by (in)courage

Cain said to his brother Abel, “Let us go out to the field.” And when they were in the field, Cain rose up against his brother Abel and killed him. Then the Lord said to Cain, “Where is your brother Abel?” He said, “I do not know; am I my brother’s keeper?” And the Lord said, “What have you done? Listen, your brother’s blood is crying out to me from the ground! And now you are cursed from the ground, which has opened its mouth to receive your brother’s blood from your hand. When you till the ground, it will no longer yield to you its strength; you will be a fugitive and a wanderer on the earth.” Cain said to the Lord, “My punishment is greater than I can bear! Today You have driven me away from the soil, and I shall be hidden from Your face; I shall be a fugitive and a wanderer on the earth, and anyone who meets me may kill me.” Then the Lord said to him. “Not so! Whoever kills Cain will suffer a sevenfold vengeance.” And the Lord put a mark on Cain, so that no one who came upon him would kill him. Then Cain went away from the presence of the Lord and settled in the land of Nod, east of Eden …

Adam knew his wife again, and she bore a son and named him Seth, for she said, “God has appointed for me another child instead of Abel, because Cain killed him.” To Seth also a son was born, and he named him Enosh. At that time people began to invoke the name of the Lord.
Genesis 4:8-16, 25-26 NRSVA

Eve’s life had been quiet for so long.

Once, a lifetime ago, it had not been so. When her boys, Cain and Abel, were small, her days were filled with the sounds of childhood.

Shouts of laughter. The stampede of bare feet as they chased each other in their play. The low whispers drifted to her through the darkness as the brothers planned the next day’s adventures from their sleeping mats.

But as they grew into young men, their relationship began to change.

Laughter gave way to harsh words and tears. Instead of moving toward each other in friendship, her sons pulled away from each other, each wary of bridging the distance between them. At night, an angry silence fell over the tent as they turned their backs to each other from their sleeping mats.

Eve knew things were bad between her sons, but how could she have ever imagined the horror that was to come?

Abel’s blood soaking into the cursed earth, his young life cut short by his own brother’s hand.

Cain lost, too, driven away from home and family by his crime.

In one breathtaking stroke, Eve was forced to bury one son and watch the other walk out of her life forever.

Somehow, she opened her eyes that next morning. Somehow, she took her next breath. Somehow, she kept putting one foot in front of the other.

And the quiet descended, carried on the back of grief. In the silence of loss, life slipped by, day by day, month by month, year after year.

The loss of Cain and Abel was an ocean of pain that seemed to stretch endlessly between Eve and her husband Adam-too vast to chart, too precarious to cross. Until, somehow, a lifetime later, Adam and Eve drifted nearer each other, close enough to reach for the comfort of each other’s arms across the years of loss. It was the beginning of healing, the first stirring of resurrection. The advent of new life.

Now, the silent years of mourning have drawn to an end.

Eve groans in agony as a contraction washes over her. With the next wave of pain, she cries out, and a moment later another, fainter cry, takes the place of her own.

Through laughter and joyful tears, Eve reaches down to lift her newborn son to her chest with trembling hands. She holds him near, and whispers his name for the first time.

“Seth.”

The weary mother laughs in wonder as the baby boy’s face wrinkles in fury and his cry grows louder. Once again, the sounds of life have come to her tent, filling the emptiness.

Banishing the quiet of grief and loss.

Tears have given way to laughter, and the sound of bare feet running in play won’t be far behind. At night, a baby’s cry will once again pierce the stillness of her tent, accompanied by whispered prayers of gratitude.

For at last, new life has come.

Against all odds. Despite every mistake and in defiance of each regret…

Life wins.

And this is the love story of Scripture from beginning to end: a loving God gives life. The accuser attacks, bringing death. For a time, it seems all hope is gone.

But God always has the last word.

—

This is an excerpt from the new book, From Where I Stand: A 30-Day Journey with Women of the Bible, written by two of our favorite writers, Sherri Gragg and Shanna Noel. This book invites you to trace the footsteps of ordinary women who faced unique challenges, endured extraordinary circumstances, and encountered the living God.

They are the long-suffering, courageous, flawed, and faithful women of the Bible. In this 30-day guide featuring devotions, Scriptures, and reflection questions, you’ll experience what these women saw and how they felt, from the lushness of the Garden of Eden to the blistering sunshine illuminating Christ’s tomb. You’ll emerge with insights that can be gleaned from their failures, triumphs, patience, and perseverance. Most of all, you’ll learn about the character of God who gave them life, remembered them, and placed them with a purpose exactly where they were meant to be. Just as He has done for you.

We know you’ll simply love this book! Order your copy today . . . and leave a comment below for a chance to WIN one of 5 copies*!

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

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

You Don’t Have to Be a Perfect “Good Girl” to Be Loved

September 4, 2023 by Holley Gerth

I’m sitting in my counselor’s office. We’re talking about the pressure I feel to be “good,” my fear of disappointing people, the cloud of guilt that often hovers over my heart.

She asks me, “When is the first time you ever felt that way?” A scene from my childhood comes back to me. I’m a little girl of six or so, standing in my backyard by the swing set. The sky is blue above, the grass green beneath my bare feet. I have a sudden thought that I’m bad and God wants to punish me. (The grown-up version of this thought sounds more like, “Something is wrong with me” or “God must be mad at me.” (Sound familiar?)

I have no idea what provoked this thought. Perhaps I smacked my little brother or pulled the dog’s tail. Maybe I snuck the last cookie or didn’t eat my broccoli. Most likely, knowing now how I’m wired, I did nothing wrong at all.

When I think of this moment, it makes me ache. I was so small to believe such a big lie. Now I am so big to still sometimes believe it. My counselor asked me to see this scene from a different perspective, to invite Jesus into it. When I do so, everything changes. My heart hears Him say that I am loved, covered in grace, that He wants me to be free.

When the session was almost done, my counselor and I looked for new words to replace the old lie I’d believed. My thinking sounded like, “I’m bad and I have to force myself to be good.” The new sentence that comes to mind is, “I’m already loved, and I am a force for good.”

It’s a subtle shift but a powerful one. So many of us have been taught to be “good girls” who try hard to meet expectations, but I believe God wants so much more for us.

Queen Esther was raised to be a “good girl.” She has no voice or choice when she’s taken from her family to join the royal harem. Her role is to please a narcissistic king who cares only for himself. Yet when her people are in danger, God empowers her to act with great courage. She finds her voice. She makes her own choice.

When Jesus visits the home of Martha, she’s busy trying to make sure she does everything right and meets the cultural expectations for women. But, as Jesus gently points out, she’s missing what matters most. Yet later when her brother Lazarus dies, “When Martha got word that Jesus was coming, she went to meet him. But Mary stayed in the house” (John 11:20 NLT). The former “good girl” feels free to be in or out of the kitchen and she’s pursuing her good God.

The Proverbs 31 woman is also often talked about as the ultimate “good girl” but when you look closer at her life, she’s really a powerful woman. She has strengths like being creative, resourceful, and business-savvy. She is respected, wise, proactive, and independent. “She is clothed with strength and dignity, and she laughs without fear of the future” (Prov. 31:25 NLT).

We try to be “good girls” because we’re afraid. We fear being bad. We fear being rejected. We fear making someone (including God) upset. What helps? “There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love” (1 John 4:18 NIV).

We think we need to be perfect to stop being afraid; what we really need is God’s perfect, healing love.

When I got home from my counseling appointment, I wrote this…

Then one day she decided
to stop being a “good girl,”
and became an unstoppable
woman who’s a force for good.

I posted those words on Instagram and so many of you responded. That’s when I knew I wasn’t alone in my struggle. Maybe you’ve tried to be a good girl like me, and you’re ready for something new. If so, Jesus wants to set your heart free from every lie that has held you back too.

Let’s believe we’re already loved.

Let’s stop trying to be “good girls.”

Let’s be unstoppable forces for good.

Are you with me?

If you want more truth and encouragement to set your heart free from fear and lies, then Holley’s new devotional book, What Your Mind Needs for Anxious Moments will help! Get a free excerpt on Holley’s site.

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

It’s Always a Great Day to Pray!

September 3, 2023 by (in)courage

“Pray in the Spirit at all times and on every occasion. Stay alert and be persistent in your prayers for all believers everywhere.”
Ephesians 6:18 NLT

It’s always a great day to pray!

Paul’s words to the Ephesians remind us not to become complacent in our prayers — but to pray at all times and on every occasion. That means there is never a time we don’t need to pray. God desires for us to continually turn our thoughts to Him (Isaiah 26:3) and rely on His strength (Ephesians 6:10)– instead of trusting in our own worrying or controlling or striving.

Let’s be persistent in prayer today — for ourselves and for one another!

Leave your prayer request in the comments and then pray for the person who commented before you.

We are sisters around the world, connected in Christ, empowered by the Holy Spirit! Thank You, Lord!

What If Being Influential Is Simpler Than You Might Think?

September 2, 2023 by (in)courage

“Now that same day two of them were on their way to a village called Emmaus, which was about seven miles from Jerusalem. Together they were discussing everything that had taken place. And while they were discussing and arguing, Jesus himself came near and began to walk along with them.”
Luke 24:13–15 CBS

I sat across the table from her at a local Chinese restaurant, strangers eager to get to know each other. I was the new associate pastor on staff, and though it wasn’t part of my job description to meet with the young adults in our congregation, she seemed hungry for connection and care.

Over shared plates of noodles and savory meats, I asked about her life and what it was like growing up at the church. She opened up about her family, how she had been raised by a single parent, and the hurts—even traumas—she had received from pastors and fellow youth group students in the past. She didn’t know how to feel about church, but she was curious and perhaps even a tinge hopeful that things could be different with the younger pastors who had come on board recently.

I met with her and many others over the first year of my time on staff, trying to get a pulse for what God was doing, what the ministry and the congregation needed, and how I was to invest in the people who were hungry and ready to be discipled.

I was new to ministry and had seen leaders of the church I grew up in only use programs and curricula they found in mainstream ministries to “do” discipleship. But those didn’t fit the culture of our city and the people who were in our community, so I did what I knew how to do: feed people and create a safe place for them to be.

Once my husband and I were ready to buy a home, we discussed what we wanted most out of it, and we both agreed that the most important thing would be an open space where people could gather comfortably. We imagined hosting small groups and movie nights, Friendsgivings and Christmas parties, and when we did find the right house, that’s exactly what we got to do. But more than those big get-togethers, I realize now that discipleship happened most at our dinner table.

Food was always a sure way to ease into conversations where I could share what I saw God doing in someone’s life, guide them when they needed it, and be there for them when they ached for a place to belong. I walked with them through family issues, church frustrations, and relationship sorrows and joys. I didn’t follow a program or even read books together with them, but it was at the dinner table that our eyes were opened to see God.

The story in Luke 24:13–15 about the two disciples walking to Emmaus is such a clear picture of what discipleship looks like. Discipleship is coming alongside one another, sharing life and its struggles, and pointing one another to Jesus—our Hope, our Answer, and our God. He showed us the way on the road to Emmaus, and we can follow in His footsteps.

by Grace P. Cho, as published in Courageous Influence: Embrace the Way God Made You for Impact

This devotion is from our Bible Study Courageous Influence: Embrace the Way God Made You for Impact, written by Grace P. Cho and featuring stories from our (in)courage contributors. The world tells you that your influence only reaches as far as your social media followers. But the Bible shows you how God can use you right where you are to be an influence for the kingdom. Turn the idea of influence on its head and become the courageous woman of influence God calls us to be — get a free week and learn more from the Courageous Influence Bible Study!