The Path to Worry Free (Are You a Pathfinder?)

The Path to Worry Free (Are You a Pathfinder?)

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Recently, I was in the middle of mindlessly scrolling on TikTok, and in between the videos of summer fashion finds and a dog being rescued after seven months in a shelter (the algorithm knows my love of secondhand puppy-shopping videos), there was a video about space exploration. My interests are teasingly diverse…

You see, in 1997 there was a robot on Mars called Pathfinder.

Back in the 1990s, you couldn’t control a robot on Mars remotely from Earth, so they had to send one with general commands and then let the robot decide what to do next and trust the robot to do its own thing. The robot had to manage its own tasks, such as dropping off tools, taking pictures, gathering data, etc.

But this little robot wasn’t doing anything. It was just, well, kind of sitting there. It wasn’t accomplishing anything.

Why? Because its scheduling algorithms were overwhelmed. For those who don’t speak fluent computer, an algorithm is a set of instructions, such as a recipe. Sometimes computers have so many instructions that they get confused and can’t decide what to do first. It’s like a little kid having too many toys to play with and not enough time to play with them all.

In essence, this little computer was procrastinating.

It would start to make progress on a task, and then it would decide another task was actually more important. So, it would start on the next task, not finishing the first one.

This is a cycle that computer scientists call thrashing. Thrashing is the state of being where a computer uses 100% of its power to decide what task to do next, instead of using that power to actually work on a task.

It’s not that it’s not doing anything — it’s using its full strength but not accomplishing anything.

I’ve never identified so deeply with a robot in my life.

I am the reigning queen of starting on a project and then, seeing something else that is equally important (and, let’s face it, equally ignored), starting on that, until the next super-important-but-also-ignored task catches my eye.

And that is why I can drop into bed at 7:30 at night, exhausted, but also recognizing that nothing officially got checked off my list that day. (Just as I was writing that last sentence, I remembered that I needed to check in with a client, but am forcing myself to keep writing because… irony…)

I continue to have to train myself to stay on the project (or problem) in front of me, instead of borrowing stress from yesterday or tomorrow. There is enough to handle today.

I realize sometimes that I’m looking for a distraction. When a problem becomes challenging, it’s easy to want to move on to something that will be less difficult, less painful, less intense, less boring.

That hustle comes from the desire to get everything done because I don’t want to let anyone, especially God, down. But God’s Word reminds us that He’s not about the hustle. In fact, the ancient wisdom contained in Matthew 6:34 sounds like what a lot of therapists and productivity experts would say today: “Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”

When I start to get overwhelmed, I try to put a couple of practices into motion:

  1. A daily to-do list. Every day, I start a list of things that need to be done. I also underline the things that must be done today, such as car registration and emailing Becky. I then assign other items that are not a “today” item to other days of the week. Everything has to be done, but not everything has to be done right now.
  2. Assign the time. I’ve realized I can’t stop at a list. I actually need to put that list on my calendar so that I have assigned the time to work on my items. Otherwise, I make a list of twenty things when I only have time to do four and get worried that I’m not working on the right things. By writing them down and adding them to my calendar, I can ensure that important tasks get done, but allow my brain to stop cycling on those tasks.
  3. Create a routine. I have a list of morning routines and evening routines that I do every day. Because there is no decision-making (these five things get done every morning and these five things get done every evening), it takes a lot of the stress out of the decisions and I don’t procrastinate. It’s just what I do, and it makes my life go so much more smoothly.

So much of worry comes from either living in the past or living in the future. When we concentrate on the present, we’re able to better recognize all the ways God has equipped us for the moment and experience the abundance He has for us.

Need extra encouragement when it comes to getting your daily list done? Join Kathi and her team over in their Facebook group, the Clutter Free Academy.

 

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

He Is with You When You’re Face-Down on the Carpet

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It was May of 2016, somewhere around 10:30 p.m. It was another night in the brutal nightmare that had made up the last year-and-a-half, and it was during that time when I began to secretly self-medicate.

We’d spent the previous year seeking medical answers non-stop, during which time I’d also given birth to our third child. Only three months after my baby boy’s birth, my husband underwent corrective brain surgery, losing his job and our health insurance immediately after.

Though I’d graduated college and worked most of my adult life, we’d chosen to make sacrifices so I could remain home while our children were small. We had worked so hard trying to establish a good footing for our family . . .  but in a matter of weeks, everything had been reduced to a pile of rubble.

By this point, Chad had been officially diagnosed with ALS, and I was already so depleted from the grueling journey to the diagnosis that I began to spiral quickly. My life was falling apart. I felt obliterated, alone, and utterly hopeless. I was on the brink of complete despair.

On this particular May night, once everyone was in bed I laid down outside, sipping from the can in my hand. This had become my go-to posture. My place of escape was to look up at the stars and try to calm the fear tyrant inside me.

Chad was dying. I felt like I was too.

The presence of God felt completely withdrawn. Gone — just like the life we once had.

What had gone so wrong? What grave sin had I committed to cause this level of destruction?

As tears began seeping out the sides of my eyes, I tried to talk to God but couldn’t speak. All I could do was keep taking one deep, labored breath after the next. A stream of shandy-laced saliva converged with a stream of trauma-induced tears, forming a river of fluids that ran out the sides of my mouth, down my neck and shoulders, soaking the back of my shirt. Lord, how did I get here?

As I rolled my body upward in a grand attempt to stand, I realized the six-pack I’d purchased was now gone, right along with my balance. My fingers collided with the red brick that literally keeps my home together. I somehow managed to fumble my way through the French doors leading to the interior of my basement and ended up face-down on the carpet. Face-down, as the reality of what I was facing surged through my body.

I felt angry that I couldn’t take care of my growing children and dying husband while staying on top of the bills and the housework. I felt guilty that I couldn’t do it all. I felt shame thinking that I’d probably somehow caused it all — and to boot, now I was drunk! God, You’re definitely punishing me, I thought. Maybe if I’d had more faith, I reasoned. Maybe if I had attended more revivals, hosted more children’s ministry activities, or worn looser fitting clothing? Maybe then I would have earned a good, happy, and picturesque life.

I had tried to live up to the standards of being a “good and faithful” Christian, but my mistakes were many — too many, I feared.

At that moment all I could mutter was, “God, please send help. I can’t do this by myself for one more day.”

The next day it was around lunchtime when an unexpected text came through: “Hey Lori, I wanted to let you know I’ve had it on my heart to help you with the kids while you care for Chad.” I couldn’t believe my eyes. HELP was here. Help that would come almost daily for the next six months.

I was so broken in that season and continued breaking. But later I could see that it was in that moment of failing and falling face-down on the carpet that God met me. It was in that moment of breakdown that He lovingly came near and consoled me.

As the days and weeks progressed, I began to see that not only was God providing help to me through this woman, but He was also comforting my children.

At the time, most people didn’t know that Chad’s mother was diagnosed with ALS only a few months after he was. This meant the grandmother our children deeply loved was now being simultaneously claimed by the same disease that was claiming their father.

But God knew ALL of this, and because He is El Shaddai (God ALL-Powerful), He’d already begun working behind the scenes by sending this woman and her husband to become surrogate grandparents during the very same time my children’s biological grandparents were being pulled away.

Friend, God is with us in the hard and He’s with us in the easy. He is with us in the ugly and He’s with us in the beautiful. He is with us in our good decisions and He’s with us in the bad ones. He is with us on the mountain and He’s with us in the valley. If you find yourself fallen, face-down on the carpet, He is right there with you too.  

In the moments when your t-shirt is stained with shandy-laced saliva and trauma-induced tears . . . and in the moments when you have carpet-burned cheeks and a prayer of desperation on your lips — yes, God is with you even then.

 

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

Here’s the Promise: Goodness Will Chase You Down

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Keep a straight face, I thought to myself.

Everything was already in place. The date was marked on a dozen calendars. The cards were signed, the gifts wrapped, the decorations purchased — everything was ready for her celebration.

Then, just a handful of days before the surprise, I listened as she spoke words of frustration and loneliness. I could see the weariness in her eyes, hear it in her strained voice, and I blinked back tears at her pain even as I bit my tongue.

The words threatened to burst bright like fireworks against the night, clamoring around inside, longing to be spoken and offered as a gift of hope.

“Oh friend, if you only knew,” I wanted to say. “Something so very good is just around the corner. It won’t be long until you see that the very thing you’re worried about has already been taken care of. The fear that’s rising will soon be stilled. You are dearly loved, valued, and seen. Hang on just a few more days, friend. Goodness is already on the way.”

Days later, the full room buzzed with excitement, smiles spread wide across faces, and then, for just a moment, everything stilled. All was quiet until suddenly one unanimous word broke the silence: “Surprise!!!”

There were hugs and squeals, party hats and pictures, and once again I found myself blinking back tears at the look in her eyes. This time, though, they threatened to spill with joy.

As the days have gone by, I’ve found myself returning to one thought that played on a loop between the conversation and the celebration:

This must be the tiniest glimpse of how Jesus feels all the time.

He’s the Beginning and the End, the One who knows what’s on every single page of the story, and I can’t help but wonder if He occasionally claps His nail-scarred hands in joyful anticipation, smiling as He says, “Oh daughter, if you only knew.”

There are things I’ve longed for, and prayed for, for over a decade now. I can only imagine what it would be like to voice my frustration or heartache and hear, “Just hold on three more days.” Truthfully, I’d love a countdown clock, a heavenly calendar declaring when the seemingly impossible will come to be and the waiting will turn to celebrating.

For now, I’m learning to rest in knowing that He knows what I don’t. I’m learning to trust that goodness is always here and also always on the way. I’m learning to believe that it won’t be long before I see that I’ve been seen all along, and the very things I’m burdened by today were taken care of long ago. For now, I’m remembering a tiny glimpse and an old promise.

Psalm 23:6 says that goodness and mercy will follow us every single day. The Hebrew word used for follow, radaph, means to pursue or to chase. Far from a casual stroll, this is an all-out sprint, a guarantee that every day, on every single page of the story, goodness is pounding the pavement, coming for us over and over again. We may not see it yet. It might look like fear is following behind, it might feel like worry is weighing down, or seem like pain or sadness will get the last word . . . but the countdown is on. The party hats have been purchased. The celebration is certain.

We may not know the timeline, but we do know that the One who holds time is faithful to keep His Word.

As Joshua 23:14 says, “Know this with all your heart, with everything in you, that not one detail has failed of all the good things God, your God, promised you. It has all happened. Nothing’s left undone — not so much as a word.”

Jesus hears every cry and sees every tear. He doesn’t miss a thing, listening to our frustrations and worries with patience and kindness. He welcomes every word, day after day and year after year. He knows exactly how long it’s been, how weary we are, and He draws nearer still. But perhaps if we look closely, we’ll see a small smile tugging at His lips or a twinkle in His eye as He wipes the tears from our own. Maybe, when all is quiet, we’ll hear a gentle but joyful whispered promise:

Daughter, something so very good is just around the corner. It won’t be long until you see that the very thing you’re worried about has already been taken care of. The fear that’s rising will soon be stilled. You are dearly loved, valued, and seen. Hang on just a little bit longer. Goodness is already on the way.

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Today we’re thrilled to welcome new voices to the (in)courage podcast! We thank Rachel Marie Kang for sharing her gifts with us these past few months, and we welcome Anna E. Rendell as the new narrator. Take a listen at the player below, or wherever you stream pods.

6 Words That Change Everything

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The angel of the Lord came, and he sat under the oak that was in Ophrah, which belonged to Joash, the Abiezrite. His son Gideon was threshing wheat in the winepress in order to hide it from the Midianites. Then the angel of the Lord appeared to him and said, “The Lord is with you, valiant warrior.”

Gideon said to him, “Please, my lord, if the Lord is with us, why has all this happened? And where are all his wonders that our ancestors told us about? They said, ‘Hasn’t the Lord brought us out of Egypt?’ But now the Lord has abandoned us and handed us over to Midian.”

The Lord turned to him and said, “Go in the strength you have and deliver Israel from the grasp of Midian. I am sending you!”

He said to him, “Please, Lord, how can I deliver Israel? Look, my family is the weakest in Manasseh, and I am the youngest in my father’s family.”

“But I will be with you,” the Lord said to him. “You will strike Midian down as if it were one man.”
Judges 6:11-16

Don’t you just love how God’s answer to Gideon’s doubts and insecurity is His presence?

God doesn’t refute Gideon’s claims that he is too weak, too young, too poor, essentially, too much of a nobody to be called by God and do brave things for Him. God knows exactly who Gideon is and exactly what his background, struggles, and qualifications (or lack thereof) are. But still, God calls him a “valiant warrior.” Why? Because of what comes before that: “The Lord is with you.”

God’s presence is mightier than any disadvantage or setback. 

Whenever we face something that’s too much for us, God answers, “But I will be with you.”

And those six words change everything.

 

Let the Peoples Praise God

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May God be gracious to us and bless us;
may he make his face shine upon us Selah
so that your way may be known on Earth,
your salvation among all nations.

Let the peoples praise you, God;
let all the peoples praise you.
Let the nations rejoice and shout for joy,
for you judge the people with fairness
and lead the nations on Earth. Selah
Let the peoples praise you, God,
let all the peoples praise you.

The earth has produced its harvest;
God, our God, blesses us.
God will bless us,
and all the ends of the earth will fear him.
Psalm 67

In Exodus 33, Moses asks to see God’s glory. God makes provisions for Moses to enter into His presence but tells him, “You cannot see my face, for humans cannot see me and live.” In light of that verse, the blessing at the beginning of Psalm 67 is that we not only get to be in the presence of God but we also have the privilege of having His face turned toward us. God doesn’t turn His back on us when things are not right in the world.

Instead, He bends low and enters into the mess with us, and He is gracious.

The word Selah comes after that sentence to indicate a pause. Selah is an invitation to take a breath and soak in what was just read.

Today, let’s look to God who guides us in the unknown. Let’s praise God who leads us.

Pause and rest in that truth.

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On Saturdays this summer, we’re sharing our favorite Psalms + select devotions from the (in)courage Devotional Bible. We’re loving our summer Saturdays (in) the Psalms with you!

 

Today, listen to a special bonus episode of the (in)courage podcast as Jami Nato and Becky Keife talk about Jami’s new book, This Must Be the Place! Pick up your copy — and leave a comment on the excerpt post from yesterday to enter to WIN one of five copies!

Your Story Is Enough

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Stories matter. I read research that said certain parts of your brain light up when someone starts telling a story. It’s why we love books and movies and the arts. We read the same stories over and over in the Bible and dissect them meticulously saying, “What was God doing here?”  

That’s one reason I started writing (although you don’t have to be a writer to share your story). Blogspot, Instagram, Facebook, any form of social media — they were all free, and no one cared if I used capital letters at the beginning of my sentences (newsflash, I didn’t), or if I was using proper grammar, or if I said things a little off-color. I just told the truth about my life without sugarcoating the tough spots. And others found themselves there too.

When I started writing my first book, I had a publisher pursue me. That may be rare, but in the end, even after garnering me a writing coach at a good cost, they rejected my proposal. I hear that memoirs are hard to sell in any genre, but especially in the faith space. We have this thing where everything must be useful and prove its worth. Of course, that’s not the faith we profess verbally (not by works but by faith!). But it’s how we function.

All those true and chaotic stories of my life, the testimonies of my foolishness and success, just weren’t deemed enough. “Half of us really liked it, and half of us didn’t get the point.” When the publisher gave that feedback, I honestly felt relieved. I was scared to put a book out there because I knew what it would mean: when you tell the truth about your life, not everyone makes it out unscathed. People get hurt, and so do you. So I quit the book. Here I was, with a story to tell, but no market to tell it in. 

But the book wouldn’t quit me. 

I started wondering, Why do we forget to ask the same question of ourselves that we ask of Bible characters: “What was God doing there?”  

What was God doing in my stories? I was honest in that book. I was vulnerable about infidelity, miscarriage, and our differently-abled child. I told the truth about motherhood and how in it, a part of you dies. I told how I taught a blind man to drive a John Deere Buggy, and how I sold my neighbors’ own rocks back to them in a bit of shady entrepreneurship at age eight. How I rose to the top of my network marketing company, and I liked being successful. (Many of you will stop reading here. But wait, would you like to look at this amazing business opportunity before you go?! Just kidding.) I discussed not fitting into evangelical spaces because I like to work, and I am more than a wife and a mother. (Gasp!) 

It takes a bit of looking back to look forward, and in doing so, we’ll find a lot of buried treasure. If we keep looking at the moments in our lives that really shaped us and get curious about how and why they did that, we’ll start making connections. I really liked that idea, and still do. Publishers liked it too, and we got a deal.

There’s a marketing saying, “The riches are in the niches.” But it’s not just for marketing. You are a niche, so varied from the next person, so valuable just by being alive. God knew we’d need all types to help us see different facets of Himself. I love that because it lends itself to a unique purpose for each of us. And your purpose certainly won’t look like mine or anyone else’s. It just can’t. That’s really good news in a world that says everyone needs to act and look like whatever the railing trend is at the time. (I can’t get behind JUICY bedazzled on the rear of my pink velour sweatsuit for another round. I draw the line somewhere!)

My wish for you is that you would take up more space in storytelling, in bearing witness to your layered and complicated life. And letting others bear witness. Write it down. Tell the vulnerable truth. Say it with your own mouth, with your own pen. That’s what happened as I wrote This Must Be the Place — seeing how the stories of my life have led me to exactly where I am and what I do today. When you ask yourself past-probing questions, you’ll discover the clues God has left along the way. I guarantee you’ll start connecting dots and stop seeing “coincidences” but unique empathies, talents, and callings. Looking back makes you look forward. You won’t be able to help yourself. And when you start feeling on purpose, you have a giant permission slip to live uniquely as you without comparing yourself to others’ lives that aren’t meant to be yours.

Take up space with your story. The world is ready to bear witness to your rich life. And while we’re not after usefulness, your story may be a breadcrumb on the trail of someone else’s life. 

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Through stories like a quirky childhood selling rocks and a season of brokenness in her marriage, Jami’s new book, This Must Be the Place: Following the Breadcrumbs of Your Past to Discover Your Purpose Today, uses the breadcrumbs from her life to give women permission to discover the purpose God has for them. With sincere encouragement and boundless humor, Jami brings a new perspective to living intentionally, chasing dreams, and finding satisfaction in using your gifts and passions.

Pick up your copy of This Must Be the Place, and leave a comment below to enter to WIN one of five copies*!

Then tune in TOMORROW (6/10/23) to a bonus episode of the (in)courage podcast as Jami talks with Becky Keife about This Must Be the Place!

 

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

 

*The giveaway is open to U.S. addresses only and closes on 6/12/23 at 11:59 pm central.

Lay Down Weapons, Pick up Creativity

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What is your weapon of choice? Mine is holding a grudge. Well, it used to be.

When I felt a sense of injustice or felt wronged by someone, I whipped my bitterness and resentment into an anger-fueled grudge. I employed my grudge like a weapon of war, designed to destroy my offender and protect me. I got really comfortable with my weapon. I could aim a grudge toward someone for years! Like a skilled marksman with focused concentration, I fixed my grudge on the target. I would think, ‘This is payback for what they did’ or ‘I’ll make sure this never happens again!’

However, weaponizing my feelings of bitterness, anger, and resentment became an attack on myself. As I harbored grudges, my focus became fixated on the past, reliving the hurtful events over and over again. This mental and emotional burden restricted my ability to think clearly. Grudges kept me trapped in a cycle of negativity, draining my joy and hindering my ability to embrace the abundant life Christ has promised. My capacity to create and receive abundance was smothered by the weight of my weapon. Essentially, holding onto grudges hindered my spiritual growth and stifled my creativity.

Negative emotions –  anger, resentment, bitterness – consumed my mental and emotional energy, leaving no room for creative thinking, reimagining, and problem-solving. Psychology research backs up what I experienced. When our mind is preoccupied with negative thoughts and emotions, there is no room for generating new ideas. Concentrating on keeping my target in the crosshairs colored my perception and limited my ability to see other perspectives and possibilities. Nursing negative feelings fosters a defensive, judgmental mindset which staves off resilience and a willingness to learn from trials. Holding onto grudges can also contribute to mental rigidity, where we become stuck in our own perspectives and beliefs.

Hiding behind my weapon became unbearable when I realized that I was not keeping myself safe – I was actually keeping myself stuck. I hate feeling stuck!

The apostle Paul, in his letter to the Ephesians, urges us to release negative emotions and destructive behaviors from our lives. He encourages us to “get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice” (Ephesians 4:31). These words resonated with me, reminding me that holding onto grudges, using them as weapons against others, hindered my own liberty and suppressed my ability to be creative.

However, as a follower of Christ, I had access to a better way. I had a choice. I chose to lay down my weapon. I chose to surrender – to let go of grudges. And when I made the conscious effort to release it, I created space in my heart and mind for something beautiful to flourish — creativity. Now, when I feel myself fashioning negative emotions into a weapon, I recall Isaiah’s prophecy:

“They will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks.”
Isaiah 2:4

The imagery of beating swords into plowshares and spears into pruning hooks symbolizes a transformation of weapons of war into tools of agriculture, growth, and flourishing. This metaphor suggests that resources and skills once devoted to war and destruction will instead be used for peaceful and productive purposes. The act of turning weapons of war into tools for farming also implies a shift from violence and aggression to peaceful coexistence and cooperation.

So for me, instead of fashioning a weapon of defense, I choose to make a conscious effort to cultivate seeds of creativity.

As we relinquish grudges and embrace creativity, we align ourselves with God’s heart. We reflect His creative character. By sowing seeds of creativity, we become vessels of God’s grace, demonstrating His transformative power to a perpetually hungry world. In this process, not only do we experience personal growth, but we also contribute to creating healed and restored relationships and communities. When we release grudges, we make room for God’s transformative work within us, allowing His love and grace to flow through every aspect of our lives, including how and what we create.

When we let go of grudges, our hearts and minds are renewed. We experience the freedom to dream, explore, and create. Walls that hinder the outpouring of our talents, gifts, and abilities collapse. Laying down our weapons unlocks our creative potential, enabling us to express ourselves authentically, and positively impact the world around us.

Today, let us examine our hearts and identify any weapons we may be holding onto. Let us bring them before the Lord, seeking His guidance and strength to release them. As we choose to let go, let us invite the Holy Spirit to ignite our creativity, infusing every area of our lives with renewed inspiration, innovative thinking, and a passion to make a positive difference.

Holy Spirit, I come before You today, acknowledging the burden of grudges I have been carrying. I confess that holding onto these negative emotions has hindered my creativity and prevented me from fully experiencing Your love and grace. I surrender my weapons to You and ask for Your strength and guidance to release them. Awaken my creativity, Lord, and help me use it to bring glory to Your name. Amen.

 

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

When We Want a New Kitchen

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I’ll never forget the angst our youngest daughter carried many years ago when she overheard a puzzling conversation. My friend mentioned how much she loved gathering at our home, but she hoped we could replace our tacky floors soon. Yes, let’s all take a deep breath on my behalf because she actually verbalized the word “tacky” to me, the owner of those most impressive floors. While expressed in a larger discussion about our ripped linoleum flooring in an older kitchen, our daughter couldn’t shake what she heard, and quite frankly, neither could I. Her perspective changed in an instant and it impacted me too.

Let me backtrack a bit. For decades, the push and pull of our finances have rubbed against the vision I desire for our physical home. It doesn’t feel so long ago that our personal life felt hard, suffocating even when it came to money. A time when we went over a year without a paycheck and our five children looked to us for reassurance. Through all the challenges, Romans 15:13 reflected my desire:

“Now may the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you believe so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.”

I wanted them to see a mom whose simple faith embraced the life-giving fullness that God offers no matter the hard seasons. With both our home and our hospitality, I chose to love the home He gave us while taking great joy in using secondhand treasures to create a haven of welcome and peace.

With the kitchen as the heartbeat of our home, I engage the senses. Sweet aromas, flickering candlelight, and cut flowers (or dandelion weeds picked by our daughter) are all a precursor to the cornerstone of life found around the table. A place where people are drawn to linger and laugh, to share stories filled with hilarity and heartbreak. There’s really nothing like table fellowship in the Schmidt home  . . . until that brief comment stirred something unexpected.

Our daughter never cared about the state of our unfinished kitchen before, and yet her once contented soul started hounding me about something which we had no financial resources to fix. “Mom, when are we replacing our floors? You heard her. They’re tacky. You know they are.”

In an unexpected instance, the enemy of our souls (disguised as comparison) snuck up to steal our joy.

John 10:10 says it clearly, “A thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I have come so that they may have life and have it in abundance.”

I reminisce on that past exchange because I’ve allowed the thief in once again. Discontent burrowing, I’m frustrated that years later I still have dingy kitchen cabinets and our refrigerator shelves are literally duct-taped together. All work on my nonprofit hospitality house has stopped and I’ve laid awake at night pondering the many things that would be easier with money. I am a champion and cheerleader for all things home, and yet I allowed the thief to steal sleepless moments while I wished and wanted what others had, wondering why it couldn’t be me.

I don’t know your current life circumstances, but we can be honest and admit that life is easier with money. That’s a reality, yet our financial circumstances, our jobs, and our homes do not dictate our peace. The world can neither give us peace nor take it away. It’s hard. I get it, but we fight to realign our perspective because contentment found in God alone brings absolute peace.

Paul affirms in Philippians 4:12, “For I have learned to be content, whatever the circumstances may be. I know now how to live when things are difficult and I know how to live when things are prosperous.”

One way I fight to realign my perspective with God’s is through journaling. Then revisiting that record of hope provides a swift kick to my off-kilter perspective. When I felt bent out of shape about my kitchen floors, I went back to the words that marked my remembrance of God’s goodness:

Those tacky floors welcomed guests from cities and countries around the world. Those tacky floors invited children to wrestle and giggle and build forts on top of them. Those tacky floors were where thousands of feet walked during hundreds of gatherings. Those tacky floors celebrated new life and supported the hearts of mourners. Those tacky floors witnessed so much grace in actions, all while refusing to disclose the secrets they heard. Those tacky floors told stories of a life well spent.

That’s contentment. Won’t you join me with a perspective shift of your own?

This morning my husband informed me that while I took my shower, water started leaking through the chandelier fixture below. I had to chuckle and choose gratitude. I’m thankful for running water because so many in the world don’t have it.

Now it’s your turn.

What are you struggling to be content with today?
How can you reframe the way you see your lack?

 

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

Create Summer Memories That Will Last a Lifetime

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Christmas morning 2002. The Christmas story has been read from the Bible. Breakfast has been eaten. Presents have been opened. Four little pajama-clad children are handed an envelope that sends them on a scavenger hunt and ends with an invitation to the inaugural summer of Kamp Kannecomova.

Kamp Kannecomova was the brainchild of my grandparents, Mimi and Pop, to spend an extra week of fun each year with their four grandchildren. At the time we ranged in age from 5-9 years old, and we showed up at their house with our bags packed, full of excitement. “Welcome to Kamp Kannecomova!” they sang in excitement when we walked in the door. And just like that, we were off!  

Mimi and Pop had thought of everything – each camper was given a custom shirt for each day of camp. They had our names embroidered on them and featured a little emblem that represented what we would be doing that day. For us, this was the coolest thing ever, and for them, this was a way they could keep track of four crazy kids in case we wandered away from the group. 

We had mail time every morning with breakfast, where somehow, letters from our parents, full of encouragement and I love yous, magically appeared. Then our snack bags were handed out for the day, and we got our start! 

Mimi and Pop have always been the strongest pillars of faith and an example to our entire family, so it only made sense that they prioritized our faith at camp as well. We had Bible time each day where we listened to a short devotion and prayed together. We even had a camp memory verse that we all learned together, as well as a cute little camp song. 

Each day was full of pre-planned activities, and we were tasked with documenting our time well. We all received disposable cameras and a little scrapbook to keep our memories in. We spent countless hours at the dining room table with glitter glue and markers and tape making our scrapbooks something to behold. Which of course meant that Pop spent countless hours at the Walgreens photo counter getting numerous cameras developed and purchasing even more because we went through them like candy.

That first summer, we went to a Native American History Museum, to the Pink Palace and the Children’s Museum in Memphis, and even to watch a Red Birds game! Nothing that we did was crazy or expensive – we stayed within an hour’s radius of my grandparent’s house and had the week of our lives. 

At the end of the week, our parents were formally invited to the Kamp Kannecomova closing ceremony. During the ceremony, we recited the week’s memory verse, gave a rousing rendition of the camp theme song, shared our scrapbooks page by page, and even put on a little talent show! The audience was riveted. And then it was time to pack up and head back home so Mimi and Pop could sleep for the next week and a half.  

As we grew up, finding a week available in the summer became more and more difficult. Kamp turned into a quick weekend instead of a full week, and when we got to junior high and high school, it slowly stopped altogether. But what didn’t stop was the reminiscing. Every single time we are together, we regale the group with the hilarity of that time my cousin and I got stuck on a roller coaster at an amusement park or the time we got my photos developed and discovered a random stranger had taken some selfies on my camera at the Children’s Museum (don’t worry, I put them in my scrapbook for the memories).  

The eldest camper is almost thirty, we are all married, and there is even a baby on the way this year. We’re trying to talk Mimi and Pop into a Kamp Kannecomova weekend reunion so we can relive the magic of that first summer.

Creating a legacy of faith for your family that can be passed down is as easy as starting your own “summer camp”. Don’t wait for the perfect time — start today, imperfectly, and remember the reason that you’re doing it.

Here are three tips to help you kick off your own legacy summer camp:

1. Don’t overcomplicate things. 

One of our favorite days in the first year of camp was when my grandparents took us to the recycling plant to donate the aluminum cans that they’d collected for the past year. We put bags and bags of cans in the back of Pop’s truck, watched them get crushed in the giant machines, and then split the money from recycling them and go on a Dollar Tree shopping spree. We couldn’t have received more than $8 each, and it was just the coolest thing ever. I still remember what I bought with my money – it was a set of fake piercings so I could pretend I had a nose and eyebrow ring. Sorry, Mimi and Pop. 

Our scrapbooking supplies were just sketchbooks from the craft store, sticker sheets, and markers. We used our disposable cameras to document the days, and that was it. There wasn’t anything fancy about it, but we will cherish those books forever.

2. Focus on the lessons you want to pass down. 

Each year our camp was centered around a theme that bled into everything we did – the activities, the Bible study and memory verse, and the education. In our second year, along with our daily Bible time, we had etiquette lessons. You might be thinking that wrangling four elementary-aged kids, three of them boys, to teach them about etiquette is a daunting feat, and you’d be right. But you better believe that today as adults, we all remember how to set a table and what side of the street the boys are supposed to walk on, because of those lessons.

One summer, we all got matching aprons with our names on them, and the focus for the week was teaching us skills in the kitchen. It culminated in baking a cake together called a “Scripture Cake”. I’m not sure where Pop found that recipe, but it was perhaps the worst thing any of us had ever eaten. We sure got some laughs from it, though! 

3. Keep faith at the center. 

No matter how many fun activities we had planned throughout the day, Bible time was always first on the agenda. And there was no question that you would find us in a church on Sunday morning. One year, the six of us walked into a little country church, and the attendance doubled to 12 people! We once attended church in what used to be a dinner theater in Branson, and there were sinks at the end of each row. To our horror, Mimi and Pop even sometimes encouraged their little, introverted grandchildren to attend Sunday school with a classroom full of strangers, but we are all better for it! They showed us over and over where God was, and still is, on their list of priorities, and He always came out at the top. 

The years go by, and we’re all grown up, but we will never stop remembering our sweet summers at Kamp Kannecomova. Whether you’re inspired to start your own “summer camp”, or these stories gave you ideas for a different type of activity, don’t let another summer go by without instilling the legacy of faith and family in your children and grandchildren. They will always remember the sweet times and cherish the lessons you pass on to them. 

This article is by Jordan Sears and is featured in Everyday Faith Magazine.

The brand new SUMMER issue of DaySpring’s Everyday Faith Magazine just hit newsstands!

From cover to cover, you will find stories and articles like the one above that will inspire hope, prompt reflection, and encourage you for the upcoming months. There are beautiful tear-out prayers to share cards, scannable QR codes for bonus goodies, and exclusive Summer Planning Calendars tucked inside!

Everyday Faith magazine will help you know and share God’s love in fresh, true, and inspiring ways. Pick up your copy wherever magazines are sold and at DaySpring.com. This article is just one of many featured in Everyday Faith magazine, which, by the way, is perfect for reading on your lunch break, taking on vacation, or gifting to a friend.

And to help you do just that, we’re giving away FIVE sets of magazines — one for each winner and one for them to give to a friend! Leave a comment telling us to whom you’d gift a copy, or about your own Kamp Kannecomova-style memory, and we’ll draw five winners.

 

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

 

The giveaway is open to US addresses only and will close on 6/9/23 at 11:59 pm central. 

3 Ways to Handle Conflict: Fight, Flight, or Figure It Out Together

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I’m sitting at a table with two dear friends, chips and salsa in front of us. We’re talking about one of our least favorite topics — conflict. We confess it makes all three of us uncomfortable. Yet, we say, it’s sometimes necessary.

When it comes to conflict, I lean hard into “flight” rather than “fight.” What this looks like is me quickly saying, “I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault.” The fight version of this would sound like, “You should be sorry, it’s all your fault.”

But usually, neither of these is true. If we think of responses to conflict on a continuum, it would look like this…

|———————————————————–|————————————————————|
It’s All Me (flight)           It’s Us (figure it out together)           It’s All You (fight)

The responses on either end look very different but come from the same place — fear. If I say that it’s all me then maybe it will diffuse your anger and I can control the outcome. If I say it’s all you then maybe I can avoid shame.

But the brave place, the one where I’m slowly learning to live, is in the middle. It’s difficult to get to, especially when conflict is happening, but it is possible.

Here’s what I’ve discovered helps…

1) Pause and recognize you’re feeling triggered. If you lean toward “flight” then you likely feel anxiety. If you lean toward “fight” you likely feel anger.
2) Calm your brain and body. This might mean taking a few deep breaths, saying a prayer, or taking a break from the conversation.
3) Recognize your tendency to say, “It’s all me” or “It’s all you.” Instead, pause and remind yourself and the other person, “We are in this together.”
4) Choose courage over fear. Instead of avoiding conflict or blaming the other person, be vulnerable by staying emotionally open and engaged.
5) Refocus on what you both want. For example, “What we both want is to solve this problem” or “What we both want is a peaceful relationship.” Then ask, “How can we figure this out together?”
6) Start with one small step. Conflict can feel overwhelming. Ask a question like, “What’s one small step we can take together to help with this?”
7) Remember you can only do your part. In the process of conflict, we’re only responsible for our own words and actions. Sometimes we’ll try to work through conflict with someone who is unwilling or unable to do so in a healthy way. It takes two to get to a place of reconciliation.

Note: I’m talking about the everyday conflicts of life and not those with abusive people or toxic behavior. If you’re experiencing anything harmful, please talk with a trusted professional like a counselor about your specific situation and do whatever it takes to get yourself to a place of emotional and physical safety.

Someone once told me, “Healthy conflict is part of how two people become one.” This sounded crazy when I heard it, but it started to make sense as I thought about it more. At the start of a conflict, there is “You” and “Me.” But when conflict is done well, in the end, there is an “Us.” It’s no longer about my way or your way, it’s about our way because we’ve figured it out together. Only then can we move toward needed change.

Proverbs 27:17 says, “Iron sharpens iron, and one person sharpens another.” When iron sharpens iron, sparks fly. It’s not a smooth process. There are rough edges in the beginning, resistance, and the requirement of close connection. Those two pieces of iron come together with the intention, not of harming each other, but making each other better. Healthy conflict does the same.

Conflict is inevitable; letting it be destructive is optional. May we have the wisdom to know the difference between fighting with each other and for each other. May we not choose flight or fight but instead figure out things together. May our love conquer our fear.

What have you learned about how to handle conflict in a healthy way?

Conflict can be especially hard if you’re an introvert. Holley’s new book, Introvert by Design: A Guided Journal for Living with New Confidence in Who You’re Created to Be, will help you or the introverts you love to learn how to thrive in every area of your life, including your relationships.

 

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

A Prayer of Trust

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Let love and faithfulness never leave you;
bind them around your neck,
write them on the tablet of your heart.
Then you will win favor and a good name
in the sight of God and man.
Trust in the Lord with all your heart
and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways submit to him,
and he will make your paths straight.
Do not be wise in your own eyes;
fear the Lord and shun evil.
This will bring health to your body
and nourishment to your bones.
 Proverbs 3:3-8

Even though we wish we could see all that is to come, let’s open our hands and trust God with the unknown. His goodness, love, and faithfulness continue to be true for us.

Lord, there is so much ahead of us that we can’t foresee, so much we wish we could control but can’t. We hold all the questions, desires, and longings out to You. We want to trust You, but we acknowledge that we need help with that sometimes. Help us. Thank You that we can be anchored in faith when we are tethered to You. In Jesus’ name we pray, amen. 

How can we pray for you?

On this first Sunday in June, let’s hold space for one another in prayer. Leave a prayer request in the comments and then pray for the person who commented before you.

 

He Fights for Us

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Lord, the king finds joy in your strength.
How greatly he rejoices in your victory!
You have given him his heart’s desire
and have not denied the request of his lips. Selah
For you meet him with rich blessings;
you place a crown of pure gold on his head.
He asked you for life, and you gave it to him—
length of days forever and ever.
His glory is great through your victory;
you confer majesty and splendor on him.
You give him blessings forever;
you cheer him with joy in your presence.
For the king relies on the Lord;
through the faithful love of the Most High
he is not shaken.

Your hand will capture all your enemies;
your right hand will seize those who hate you.
You will make them burn
like a fiery furnace when you appear;
the Lord will engulf them in his wrath,
and fire will devour them.
You will wipe their progeny from the earth
and their offspring from the human race.
Though they intend to harm you
and devise a wicked plan, they will not prevail.
Instead, you will put them to flight
when you ready your bowstrings to shoot at them.

Be exalted, Lord, in your strength;
we will sing and praise your might.
Psalm 21

In Psalm 20, David prays for deliverance in battle, and Psalm 21 offers the praise that accompanies victory. God is the One who helps us, who knows the desires of our hearts, and who empowers us with His strength when we go into battle. For every fight against injustice and racism, for every loss we grieve, for every hurt we are forced to be silent about, God sees each one.

He hears our prayers, and He fights for us.

How have you felt the Lord fight for you?

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On Saturdays this summer, we’re sharing our favorite Psalms + select devotions from the (in)courage Devotional Bible. We’re loving our summer Saturdays (in) the Psalms with you!

A Call for the Weary and Worried

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The weariness wove its tendrils through me, dragging me down without asking permission.  

It had been weeks of radiation, surgery, and chemo. My new ostomy bag gurgled and churned, interrupting the awkward silence, and there I lay on the PET scan table, valiantly losing a staring contest with the dirty white ceiling tiles above me — my hospital gown scratching as it tried to reveal more of me than was decent.  

Would the radiologist find constellations of tumors lighting up my lungs like the ones my mum and sister had battled? Had the family heat-seeking missile of death locked in on me? 

Let’s just say I wasn’t my happiest, skippiest self that day. I was weary, worried, and quite honestly, over it. 

Earlier, as I sipped my morning tea, I’d laughed as I read Isaiah 42:10: “Sing to God a new song, his praise from the ends of the earth!”

Yeah right, I thought. Like that’s going to happen today. 

Have you ever laughed at Scripture? Not because it’s funny but because the chances of you putting it into action are as likely as a teenage boy spontaneously showering. 

Isaiah 42:10 is a call to sing a new song; to raise our voices, rejoice, sing for joy, shout from the mountain tops, and proclaim His praise from this little green spinning planet. But when life’s gone belly up and we’re struggling to get through the day, it’s not quite so simple or easy. 

Many of us find ourselves feeling more weary and worried than overflowing with worship and wonder. Financial worries, grief, loss, parenting struggles, or a fragile marriage, among many other unnamed cares, can weigh us down and leave us crippled. 

It’s tempting to think Isaiah 42:10 is a text for when life is all rainbows and butterflies, not stress and struggle. But it’s exactly moments like this — when life is hard, we’re tired and want things to change — that this text is for. It’s a rally cry for times of darkness, suffering, weariness, waiting, apathy, and doubt. 

It’s a call that doesn’t stop because it’s been a tough year and we can’t think of anything to give thanks and praise for. It’s a call that doesn’t stop because we’ve been diagnosed, lost a loved one, or discovered our teen is cutting. 

No matter how weary or worried you are, I want to encourage you to read Isaiah 42:1-17 where we find this call from the Lord spoken through the prophet to the people of Israel. 

Because here’s the thing… 

When Isaiah spoke these words to the people of Israel, they hadn’t just won a big victory. They hadn’t seen a huge God-miracle play out before them or enjoyed years of plenty and security. Nope, quite the opposite. They were a broken and enslaved people. The golden age of Hezekiah, with its economic and religious stability, was over. Israel was again in captivity to the Babylonians and the people were bone-weary, worn out, and worried beyond belief. 

Sound familiar? 

Yet in the middle of these tough times, God calls them to sing a new song — to burst forth in joy, hope, and peace in the darkness. 

Notice, He doesn’t say, “When life’s good again you’ll be able to sing a new song to me.” Instead, He calls them (and us) to sing a new song right where we are, right now. 

Even in a hospital gown on the PET scan table. 

So that’s what I did. Kind of.  

I quietly hummed “It’s your breath in my lungs and I pour out my praise to you only.” And as I did, my hum became a mumble which rose to a soft song of praise that echoed out from the depths of the scanner.  

To worship through my weariness and worry was an act of defiance against my cancer, and the worry-filled exhaustion seeping through my core. 

It said, “God, You are good, even when life isn’t. I trust You even when I can’t see what’s ahead, and You love me despite my feeling alone.” 

I want to encourage you today, no matter what you’re facing or how tired and anxious you are, that the call Isaiah gave the Israelites is ours today. As we sing a new song, we exchange our weariness and worry  for wonder and worship. We find God in our darkest places. 

Will you sing a new song with me today?

I’ll be the one with the bags under her eyes, belting “It’s Your breath in my lungs,” slightly off-key.

 

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

Let Love Be the Through Line

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In the corner of my hairline, right at my part, little white hairs sprout like dandelion weeds after a rainstorm. They’re a reminder that I’m not as young as I used to be and how the last few years have taken a toll on my body. I let them be for now, mostly because I have no desire or energy to do otherwise and perhaps because I’m curious about the process of aging – particularly of being middle-aged.

I am now the age of many of the deacons and deaconesses of the church I grew up in. They were my friends’ parents, the leaders in the church, the faithful ones who showed up and served the children’s and youth ministry in any way they could. From my teenage and early 20s vantage point, they seemed old and wise, as if they instinctively knew how to do it all – how to be an adult, how to make the best decisions, how to lead well, how to raise kids. I knew they weren’t perfect, but they at least seemed confident in how they carried themselves.

But from where I sit today, I wonder if they were neither old nor confident. Maybe they were just trying to make it through another day of navigating English as a second language. As immigrants, they had left whole lives, families, and communities to start fresh in a new country, and perhaps they were simply figuring their lives out one crisis at a time. Maybe what I perceived as “old” was simply exhaustion on their faces or the symptoms of trauma in their bodies. And maybe what I saw as “confidence” was a facade to cover their doubts and shame and insecurities, so as not to crumble in public or in front of their children. They were neither young nor old; they were just middle-aged and trying their best.

Despite their imperfections and mistakes and even the trauma they passed on, one line of hope I can pull out and read clearly is how they really tried to love well. It was often through food – in the assortment of banchan (Korean side dishes) in the fridge or the consistently delicious bowl of soup and rice after church service every Sunday. It was asking us if we’d eaten anytime they saw us and offering us whatever piece of candy or cracker they found in their purse. It was driving us to all the places we needed to be and had to go to play sports or hang out with friends. It was even nagging us to put on a jacket when the weather was chilly or yelling at us to be careful or bringing an extra pair of just about anything we might need, just in case.

Their love was wonky at times, but it was also fierce, and I feel that fierceness in me now too. I also feel the exhaustion and anxiety of trying to manage my own life while raising little humans. I experience, in a small way, the disconnect of language between one generation and another in the meaning and choice of words, though I have the ease and comfort of having the same mother tongue as my children. I also carry bandaids and cough drops and baby wipes in my bag and car for all the just-in-cases. And with the privilege of not having to survive every day, I have the freedom to be both grown-up and childlike. I get to hold the wonder, the gravity, and the responsibility of forming and creating a world for the next generation in a way the generation before me may not have had the bandwidth to do.

But in everything I do, I must remember that love must be the through line. And it needs to be the kind of love that’s real, transformative, the kind that lasts. As 1 Corinthians 13 reminds us, anything we do and anything we are amounts to nothing if we don’t have love. We see that theme woven back and forth throughout the whole Bible and especially in the life of Jesus. Jesus was love made flesh, love embodied. As I think about how to live this middle-aged life stage well, how to create a world for the next generation that would generate flourishing, I remember how Jesus lived out 1 Corinthians 13:4-7 –

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”

I want to be like Him. I feel the weighty importance of loving like Jesus, particularly now, when I’m needing to care for generations on either side of me, when I’m mentoring our church youth kids and the young adults in my life, when I’m seeing time pass too quickly and recognizing how precious every moment is with my family and friends.

One day, this life stage will pass, so for the time being, while I’m still here, I’m trying my best to let love be the throughline.

 

Listen to today’s article below or on your favorite podcast player!

The Unexpected Gift of Finding Common Ground

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I had a wonderful time with one of my best pals the other night. I never imagined saying that about someone more than forty years older than me who was born in another country. I never imagined I would love someone so much with whom I had so little in common. She has never been a mother or sister, and I’ve never been an artist or engineer. She’s never written a book and I’ve never traveled the world. I don’t know what it’s like to lose my husband or live through WWII, and she doesn’t know what it’s like to live with clinical anxiety.

But for all our differences, there is always common ground to be found.

We both have an affinity for houseplants, reading, and a good cup of coffee. We both adore mountains and trees and changing leaves. We both believe life is better with pie and gratitude. And every time we’re together, I learn something new about my beautifully aged friend that makes me love her even more.

As we sat together near first base, watching my two older sons play baseball as the late afternoon sky turned to golden dusk and the nearby foothills, palm trees, and pines popped like charcoal silhouettes against the sky, I learned that once Christel sliced her leg open while skiing. When she got to urgent care, the doctor told her the numbing shots might hurt as bad as the actual stitches. So she said, “Well then, just sew me up! But make sure you do it tight because I’ve got a downhill ski race in three days.”

She threw her head back and laughed. It was almost as if her decades of lines and wrinkles faded into the shadows of wild memories. Though her eighty-something-year-old body can longer shred the slopes, run a 10K, soar upside down in a prop plane, or whitewater raft (yes, she did all those things!), her adventurous spark and joy for life is still alive and well.

And I almost missed the gift of her story and pleasure.

Earlier in the day, Christel came to mind. She often does. Several times a week I stop by with a cup of coffee (with cream and sugar, just how she likes it, and only half full because she and her husband always shared just one cup). How sweet is that? Or she comes over for dinner, or I drop off a plate of tacos or a bowl of chili if we’re running back and forth between kids’ sports. We’ve grown into a sweet rhythm of sharing life. My boys take her trashcans in and out every week. She pops onto our porch with a box of See’s candy or pie from Marie Calendar’s. Bless her.

Over the years God has taught me to pay attention to His Spirit and to whom He wants to love through my presence. This has especially been true with Christel. There was the time He used my dusty skills in medical billing to alleviate a source of her stress. Or the time He showed me how a chocolate cake can be a step of obedience. I’ve learned to delight in responding to the Spirit’s guidance, even if it costs me temporary awkwardness or inconvenience.

But when I felt the nudge to invite Christel to the baseball game, I hesitated. The thought crossed my mind that it would be easier to go to the game alone. Alone I could listen to a podcast or sneak in a chapter of Jami Nato’s book between innings. Alone I wouldn’t have to worry if she was hot or cold or needed a play-by-play explanation. But alone also isn’t as rich as together. Alone doesn’t make room for someone else to belong. If I had chosen alone, Christel would have spent another evening alone too.

I pulled out my phone and scooted closer to my dear friend. She doesn’t understand selfies, but I told her I like capturing memories, so she obliged and gave me a little wave to boot.

I showed her the photo and she asked, “How can I get a print of this?”

“I’ll get one made for you.”

She smiled wide and said she will send it to her family in Germany.

I think God was smiling too. He delights when His kids take care of one another. He is thrilled when we soak in His love for us so much that we can’t help but let it pour out to others.

Hebrews 13:16 says, “Don’t neglect to do what is good and to share, for God is pleased with such sacrifices.”

Philippians 2:4 reminds us, “Don’t look out only for your own interests, but take an interest in others, too.”

And of course, Jesus commands, “Love each other. Just as I have loved you, you should love each other” (John 13:34).

Who in your life can you love and look out for this week? Who might be waiting for an invitation to belong? I guarantee they won’t be the only ones marked by the gift of together.

For more encouragement in loving people right where you are with exactly what you have, grab a copy of Becky’s book, The Simple Difference: How Every Small Kindness Makes a Big Impact.

 

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

The Father of Mercy (and Announcing Our Summer Online Bible Study!)

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“But you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’ The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God.”
Romans 8:15–16

When I was a child, I didn’t see my father express a lot of emotion unless he was angry. He would praise me on the soccer field or if I got good grades, but he didn’t always tell me he loved me or shower me with affection. I still remember the day my dad drove me to college for my freshman year. I was filled with excitement and nervousness as I anticipated moving away from home.

As we were driving, I looked over at my dad and saw tears streaming down his face. I was stunned because I had only seen my dad cry maybe once or twice in my eighteen years of life. Although he was very supportive of my attending college, he was overcome with emotion that day at the thought that I was moving away. I realized at that moment the depth of my dad’s love for me. His tears expressed far more than words ever could and gave me a deeper love and gratitude for my daddy.

Whether or not we have a good relationship with our earthly father, we are invited to connect with God as the Father of mercy.

God shows Himself to be a compassionate Father over and over again. He doesn’t always give us what we want or wish for, but He offers us His very presence, which is a gift of mercy.

Ephesians 2:4-5 says, “But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace, you have been saved…”

Dear Lord, I am grateful for Your grace, patience, steadfast love, and faithfulness. No matter what my relationship looks like with my earthly father, thank You for being a perfect example to me of a father’s love. Help me to be like You and to show compassion and mercy to others around me. Amen.

Story by Dorina Lazo Gilmore-Young as published in Create in Me a Heart of Mercy

Create in Me a Heart of Mercy is now available, and we are SO excited to be kicking off our Summer Online Bible Study! We can’t wait to spend six weeks going through the Create in Me a Heart of Mercy Bible study, written by Dorina Lazo Gilmore-Young and featuring stories from several of our (in)courage contributors. Here’s what you need to know:

Join the Heart of Mercy Online Bible Study!

1. You’ll need a copy of the Create in Me a Heart of Mercy Bible study to fully participate in the study. We will provide the reading guidelines, discussion questions, and teaching videos along the way!

2. Officially sign up for the study (it’s free to join!). Click here and register. When you do, we’ll send you the first week from Create in Me a Heart of Mercy AND a printable page of Scripture Memory Bookmarks for FREE!

3. The study runs from June 19th to July 24th.  Every Monday you can start that week’s lessons and tune in for “Moments of Mercy with Dorina” — an inspiring teaching video that will encourage you along the way! On Mondays, we’ll send you an email with the memory verse, a link to the video on YouTube, lock screens, reflection questions, and more. You’re invited to join the conversations on our social posts each Monday and Thursday as well.

This really couldn’t be easier!

Invite a few friends to join you! Send them to this page so they can sign up! If you’re looking to connect with other women in real life, this is a great way to do so. Just work through each week of the Bible study, gather (in person or online) to watch that week’s video, enjoy your own discussion, and close in prayer. We even have a Leaders Guide ready for you!

That’s it! Super fun and low-stress, right? That’s how we like to do things in the sweet summertime.

Don’t have your copy of the study yet or want to give a copy to a friend? Cue a GIVEAWAY*! 

Tell us in the comments if you’ve got your book already or to whom you’d like to gift a copy, and we’ll pick FIVE of you to WIN a free copy of the Bible study! Then mark your calendars for June 19th when we kick off the Create in Me a Heart of Mercy Online Bible Study!

Join the online study and let’s seek hearts of mercy — together.

 

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

 

*The giveaway is open to U.S. addresses only and closes on June 7th at 11:59 pm central.