What’s Really Keeping You Stuck and Blocking Your Blessing

What’s Really Keeping You Stuck and Blocking Your Blessing

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The best part of all the rain we’ve been getting recently is that my garden is thriving during these summer months. I can’t keep up with all the hydrangea blooms in my backyard. Last week, I cut two beautiful stems from my garden to enjoy in my living room. They were full, vibrant, and a beautiful shade of purplish pink — just like the hydrangeas I’d cut weeks before and placed around my house in vases.

But these blooms wilted within two days. I was shocked, and I couldn’t figure out the reason. I did the same thing with these blooms as I have always done. I emptied the water, thinking maybe a fresh fill would help. But as I emptied the vase, I noticed something white wedged at the bottom.

The vase had a narrow neck, so I couldn’t see it clearly. But when I reached inside, I felt it. It was a paper towel. I quickly remembered how I stuffed paper towels deep down in this vase when I had used it to hold some fake flowers last year.

And in that moment, it hit me… that old paper towel had been soaking up the water. I couldn’t see it, but it was there competing for the water meant for my hydrangea blooms.

My poor flowers never had a chance. It wasn’t their fault. They were dying because something hidden was stealing what was meant to nourish them.

And I wondered: How many of us are walking through life like that?

Doing everything “right.”

Reading our Bibles. Going to church. Praying. Showing up.

But we still feel wilted and drained, as if our soul is stuck in a state of survival.

When we feel like nothing is working, we strive to do more. We search for an answer on Google or explore another version of spirituality just to feel alive.

But what if the thing we actually need to do is to look inside the vase — find the root cause within ourselves? What if it wasn’t about doing more or adding something, but removing what has been blocking our growth?

The childhood wound you never processed.
The hidden addiction that has you bound.
The unforgiveness that follows you around like a shadow.
The shame that causes you to shrink and silence yourself in rooms.
The idols that you hold so close.

We try to suppress or ignore them, we try to fake it for a while to survive — but those things are stuck to the walls of our souls. These blockades don’t go away just because we can’t see them. Sometimes it’s in the most beautiful and flourishing seasons of life that you’re reminded of those paper towels deep within that are keeping you stuck.

I believe God allows these moments of awareness that something is blocking our nourishment so we can begin to walk in wholeness.

We can’t heal what we refuse to see.

The woman at the well had a lot of hidden pain and trauma stuffed down deep in her soul — until Jesus met her on a hot afternoon. He offered her Living Water that would give her the life she had been searching for.

The woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water, so that I will not be thirsty or have to come here to draw water.”

Jesus said to her, “Go, call your husband, and come here.” The woman answered him, “I have no husband.” Jesus said to her, “You are right in saying, ‘I have no husband’; for you have had five husbands, and the one you now have is not your husband. What you have said is true.”
John 4:15-18 ESV

Before she could receive the Living Water, He asked her to first dig deep into her own story.

The hidden and painful parts of our lives that we don’t want to share — Jesus sees them. Just like He did for the Samaritan woman, Jesus invites us to look within, to clear out the things that have been draining the life out of us so He can pour good things into us, fill us to overflowing so we can thrive again.

Growth and abundant life are ours when we trade our trauma for His Truth. Make room for His Word to go deep and bear fruit.

The reason you keep repeating history and making the same bad choices isn’t because you lack wisdom but because of the old patterns of thinking that you haven’t surrendered to God. Jesus wants to help you rid yourselves of those old paper towels.

Will you do the deep inner work of looking within and removing the things that the Holy Spirit reveals?

“Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.”
Psalm 139:23-24 NIV


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

Planted in a Hard Season? Here’s the Hope You Need Today

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Jack had his beanstalk. But here in the Midwest? We had the 57th Street Corn.

It sprouted, of all places, through a crack in the concrete at a busy intersection on 57th Street in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. Everyone was talking about the 57th Street Corn. People took selfies with it. Someone made a Twitter account for it. Local news crews even showed up with cameras.

I know what you’re thinking: “You must have a lot of slow news days in the Midwest.” Maybe so. But I couldn’t get enough of it. Honestly, people all over our part of the world fell in love with that lone corn stalk. (Or, as some called it, “corn on the curb.”) Walkers and joggers even stopped to water it during their daily exercise routes. Against all odds, it actually grew an ear of corn.

Here’s why I think we were all so captivated by the 57th Street Corn:

All summer long, that scrappy stalk became more than a roadside oddity. It became a symbol of resilience and hope. This little miracle of a plant showed us all what it means to bloom where you’re planted — despite the conditions and despite the hardships of life.

I need that reminder. Maybe you do, too. Because sometimes we find ourselves planted in circumstances we didn’t choose — seasons of loss, disappointment, dryness, or storm. And it’s easy to believe that nothing good can grow from there.

If I were the 57th Street Corn, I would’ve asked questions like:

Why have I been planted in such a hard place when everyone else got planted in a lush field?

Why am I growing so slowly?                                                                                   

Will I ever see a harvest?

I would have thought, “This growth is taking forever!”  

Scripture offers hope to those of us who are planted in a hard place. The Bible is filled with people who were planted in difficulty and still grew in faith. Paul, for example, endured beatings, shipwrecks, imprisonment, hunger, and sleepless nights (2 Corinthians 11:22–27). Yet he didn’t give up. In fact, he wrote much of the New Testament from some very hard places.

Paul would even write these astonishing words from prison:

“I have learned how to be content with whatever I have… For I can do everything through Christ, who gives me strength.”
Philippians 4:11–13 NIV

Even more, Jesus understands what it’s like to grow in adversity, to grow out of a hard and dry place. Before Jesus was born, the prophet Isaiah wrote of the Savior:

“He grew up before him like a tender shoot, and like a root out of dry ground.”
Isaiah 53:2 NIV

Yes, Jesus gets it.

Friend, you’re not alone in the hard places you’ve been planted. God is with you. And He’s not just helping you survive — He’s helping you grow strong, deep, and resilient.

So look upon your field. Even now, He’s growing good things in you.

And maybe, just maybe, you’re like the 57th Street Corn.

You didn’t choose the sidewalk. You didn’t ask for the concrete. But there you are … stretching toward the sun anyway, defying the odds and reminding the world that with God, growth is possible anywhere.

You’re not stuck. You’re planted.

And something beautiful is going to bloom.

If you’ve been planted in a hard place and feel like growth is slow, we think you’d like Jennifer’s book, Growing Slow.

 

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

Transitions, Disappointment, and the Faithfulness of God

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Disappointment is rarely convenient. It doesn’t ask our permission before it moves in, packs a punch, and stays longer than we’d like.

I recently walked through a painful transition that reminded me just how vulnerable disappointment can make us feel. After living in the same home for nearly a decade, rising costs forced me to move. For over a year, I searched for a solution. I tried everything I could think of — and everything friends suggested — but nothing opened up.

I’m a planner by nature, someone who thrives on consistency and struggles with change. So, to live in such uncertainty for so long was more than uncomfortable. It was exhausting. When moving day came and I still had nowhere to go, I felt scared and utterly alone. I had quietly hoped a few friends, who had extra space, might invite me in. They didn’t. Though they prayed for me — and I was grateful for that — the kind of help I’d imagined never came.

My heart sank under the weight of unmet expectations.

The thing about unmet expectations is that they don’t always come from a place of entitlement. I wasn’t demanding or even asking — I just assumed. I truly thought these friends would be the ones to step in. But they didn’t.

But God.

In His kindness, He made a way — just not through the people I expected. A dear friend, one I hadn’t anticipated, provided a place for me to live. Her sacrificial giving stunned me. It was a blessing I could never repay.

Her generosity reminded me of one of my favorite portions of Scripture: Acts 2:42–47. These verses offer a glimpse into the life of the early Church — a community of believers marked by unity, worship, and radical generosity. “And all the believers met together in one place and shared everything they had,” verses 44–45 (NLT) tell us. “They sold their property and possessions and shared the money with those in need.”

This wasn’t about obligation or guilt. It was about a posture of open hands and willing hearts. The early believers recognized that everything they had belonged to God. They lived not for themselves, but for each other, because of Christ.

That’s what my friend did. She didn’t help because she had to; she helped because she wanted to. She lived out the spirit of Acts 2, and in doing so, she became the answer to my prayer.

I’ve learned to live in the middle of what author and podcaster Abi Stumvoll calls “truths in tension.” Two things can be true at the same time: I can be disappointed and deeply grateful. I can mourn what didn’t happen while praising God for what did. I can acknowledge that some people didn’t show up in the way I’d hoped and still see God’s faithfulness in the friend who did.

And honestly? That’s the invitation of faith. To hold the hard and the holy at the same time. To say, “This hurts,” and still whisper, “God is good.”

Unmet expectations often reveal where we’ve placed our trust. I expected provision to come in a certain way, from certain people. But God reminded me that His ways are higher than mine, and often more surprising. He used someone unexpected to meet my needs and to gently show me that I am seen, held, and cared for.

This experience didn’t just shift my circumstances — it shifted my heart. It taught me to stop clinging so tightly to how I think things should go and instead rest in God’s sovereignty and timing. His provision might not look the way I imagined, but it is always enough.

The Lord and I are still processing my disappointment. Healing doesn’t always come quickly, and that’s okay. But through it all, I’m learning to trust Him more — to lean into His love, to receive His grace, and to believe that He truly is a good Father.

Have you ever been surprised by God’s provision in a moment of great disappointment? I’d love to hear your story.

 

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

Always Pray, Never Give Up

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“One day Jesus told his disciples a story to show that they should always pray and never give up.”
Luke 18:1 NLT

This is the introduction to the Parable of the Persistent Widow (Luke 18:1–8), where Jesus paints a picture of persistent, faith-filled prayer. The point of the story is that if even an unjust judge eventually responds to persistent requests, how much more will our loving, just Father respond to those who keep coming to Him in prayer without losing heart.

Jesus shared this story to encourage us to see prayer not as a last resort, but as a way of life — a rhythm of returning to God again and again. It reminds us that our persistent prayers matter, not because we wear God down, but because we grow closer to His heart. Every time we choose to pray, we are leaning into His goodness and learning to trust Him more deeply, one conversation at a time.

Summer is here, with its long, bright days and gentle breezes — and it reminds us that every season holds its own invitations from God. One of those invitations is to draw near to Him in prayer. Jesus told His disciples to always pray and never give up, because He knows how easily we grow weary in waiting.

Maybe you’ve been praying the same prayer for years. Maybe you’re waiting for an answer you can’t quite see yet. Wherever you find yourself today, God hears every whispered request, every tearful plea, every silent sigh of your heart.

He never grows tired of hearing from you.

And here’s the beautiful truth about prayer: we don’t have to strive or craft perfect words — we simply come as we are. Trusting in His perfect timing, knowing that our prayers never go unnoticed by our faithful Father. Even when His answer looks different than we expected, His timing is never too early and never too late.

So today, as you savor summer’s light, would you take a moment to draw close to God in prayer? Bring Him your hopes, your fears, your longings. Keep praying, friend, and don’t give up. Let’s make this a sacred space where we can encourage one another in prayer.

Your turn: Leave your prayer request in the comments. And before you go, would you also take a moment to pray for the woman who commented before you?

Let’s come alongside one another and trust that God is moving powerfully — even in the waiting.

A Heart Lift for Your Summer Weekend

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“Let the whole earth shout triumphantly to the Lord!
Serve the Lord with gladness;
come before him with joyful songs.
Acknowledge that the Lord is God.
He made us, and we are his —
his people, the sheep of his pasture.
Enter his gates with thanksgiving
and his courts with praise.
Give thanks to him and bless his name.
For the Lord is good, and his faithful love endures forever;
his faithfulness, through all generations.”
Psalm 100 CSB

When stress and anxiety weigh us down, it can feel impossible to “shout triumphantly” or “come before Him with joyful songs.” Joy doesn’t come easily when grief, loss, or exhaustion seem to be constant companions.

Yet Psalm 100 reminds us of a deeper truth:
We can embrace joy because of who God is — not because our circumstances feel light.

Verses 3 and 5 invite us to recognize that He is God — Creator, Shepherd, the One who loves us faithfully across all generations. That kind of certainty is an unshakable reason for praise.

When we lean into that reality, our hands and hearts can open to Him. Even on our hardest days, His goodness gives us reason to sing.

Let’s pray together:
God, help us remember all the ways You’ve walked with us. Thank You that You never change, even when everything around us feels uncertain. Fill us with Your joy and draw us into Your presence. Amen.

…

Summer (in) the Psalms
Summer days can look different for all of us — slow and restful, busy and loud, or simply a different version of our usual routines. Wherever you find yourself this summer, it takes intention to make time for Jesus in the middle of it all.

And there’s no better place to camp out than in the Psalms.

The Psalms are a beautiful record of people honestly wrestling with God — praising Him, crying out to Him, and seeing His nearness in every season. They remind us that God meets us in our real-life struggles, transforming fear into trust and sorrow into praise.

If you’re looking for a simple and meaningful way to draw closer to God this summer, try reading one Psalm a day!

And if you’d like even more encouragement, check out the Summer (in) the Psalms YouTube playlist from the (in)courage archives — a heartfelt series of conversations with (in)courage writers about God’s Word.

Please note: the print journal mentioned in the videos is no longer available. All devotions are from the (in)courage Devotional Bible.

We’d love to know — what’s your favorite Psalm? Let us know in the comments!

 

Your Fourth Of July Reminder: You Are Free Indeed

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Fireworks light the sky. Flags wave. Grills sizzle and laughter fills the air. On this day, we celebrate the gift of living in a free country. And what a gift it is — to gather openly, speak boldly, worship freely.

But whether you’re surrounded by loved ones today or feeling the sting of loneliness… whether your heart swells with gratitude for our nation or aches under the weight of division, disappointment, or global unrest… there is a greater freedom we must not overlook.

True freedom doesn’t come from a government or a set of rights. True freedom comes from Christ.

We are free because Jesus took our sin, our shame, and our punishment. He bore the weight of death and broke its power forever. Because of His love, we are no longer captives to fear, condemnation, or hopelessness.

“Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.”
2 Corinthians 3:17 (CSB)

Today, let us celebrate with gratitude. But even more, let us stand firm in the unshakable truth:
We are free because we are His. Perfectly loved. Forever secure.

Soak in these words of truth:

“The Spirit of the Lord God is on me, because the Lord has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives and freedom to the prisoners .”
Isaiah 61:1

“For you were called to be free, brothers and sisters; only don’t use this freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but serve one another through love.”
Galatians 5:13

“If you continue in my word, you really are my disciples.You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”
John 8:31-32

“Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those in Christ Jesus, because the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has set you free from the law of sin and death.”
Romans 8:1-2

Because of Christ’s amazing love, we are free indeed.

Pray with us:

Lord, thank You for the gift of true freedom. On this day when we celebrate liberty as a nation, we look to You as the source of all true liberty. Thank You that because of Jesus, we are free from the power of sin, shame, and fear. Help us to walk as Your daughters — not burdened by the past, not shaken by the present, and never uncertain about the future.

Fill us with deep gratitude for what You have done, and help us to use our freedom to love and serve one another. Whether we are rejoicing with friends and family or feeling the ache of isolation, remind us that we are never alone. We are forever free, held in Your perfect love.
In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Empowered to Trust God

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“When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you,
and the rivers will not overwhelm you.
When you walk through the fire,
you will not be scorched,
and the flame will not burn you.”
Isaiah 43:2 CSB

My youngest daughter is fearless. Well, not technically, because thunderstorms still send her running to my bedroom at night. But when it comes to leaping from the couch to the ottoman or hanging off the outside edge of the stairs, she doesn’t give a second thought to caution or safety.

It’s the same at the swimming pool. This past summer she had nearly outgrown her life jacket. But as a mom who’s far from fearless, I insisted she wear it anyway. Even though the arm floaties were a smidge tight. Even though she vowed she was just fine without them!

I simply did not trust her swimming skills yet. I did, however, trust that life jacket. That didn’t mean I left her alone at the pool. I didn’t camp out in a lounge chair, eyes glued to a book or my phone. No, I stayed in the pool with her or nearby while watching closely. But in the split second between seeing her jumping off the side and seeing her head pop back above the surface of the water, I could breathe.

On the rare occasion I let her take off her life jacket, it was a different story. Not only did I have to be in the water, I had to be within an arm’s reach. And I absolutely did not breathe from the moment she became airborne until I had her back in my arms above water.

I don’t want to oversimplify matters of faith, but for me, trusting God is like putting everyone and everything I care about in a giant life jacket.

Right now, I have a sticky note on my planner with a list of names written on it. It’s my urgent prayer list: a friend with breast cancer, two friends going through divorce, a friend whose husband has cancer, a friend whose husband lost his job, a family friend recovering from pneumonia. I haven’t written my husband, daughters, or brother on the list, because they never leave my prayers, but at times their needs are no less urgent than these.

If I let myself, I could become completely consumed with fear over each one of those situations. The what-ifs and worst-case scenarios whirl around my brain like a tornado, leaving behind as much damage as an actual twister. Chest pain, shortness of breath, tense muscles, and a flood of tears show up any time my loved ones cross my mind. As I desperately rack my brain for tangible ways to help or clever solutions to suggest, my shoulders reach my ears and my eyes widen to the point of causing a headache. I become completely unhelpful and even discouraging to those I so deeply wish to help and encourage.

Thankfully, I’m not alone in my fear. Though God allows me to go there if I choose, He doesn’t leave me in that dark place. He whispers, “Come to me,” and offers to take my burden (Matt. 11:28–30). And He reminds me that, just as He vows to be with me when I go through deep waters and raging fires, He’s made the same promise to each one of those people on my Post-it prayer list.

God’s promises—to love us, to care for us, to be with us no matter what—don’t just mean I can trust Him with my own safety and wellbeing, with my own life and heart and soul. No, He’s promised each and every one of us—and each and every one of the people I love—the same things. And while those promises don’t necessarily mean we will experience physical healing or safety, they do mean I can trust Him with the hearts and souls of my loved ones as well as with my own.

And what a gift that is! What a relief! Because when we trust God with those we love, not only are we relieved of the anxiety that comes from worrying and attempting to control their lives, but we are actually able to love them better. When we trust God with our loved ones, we don’t have to keep them within arm’s reach or in a cage or a bubble. We are freed up to love them without pressure. That’s when they can see the love of God through us and be encouraged by our trust in Him.

DEAR GOD, thank You for always being faithful to Your promises. Forgive me for grasping at the illusion of control instead of leaning on You. Remind me of Your faithfulness, and help me trust You more—with my own life and with my loved ones. Amen.

Written by Mary Carver from Empowered: More of Him for All of You

Looking for a meaningful summer read? Empowered is an invitation to stop striving and start abiding. Through 60 daily readings, you’ll be reminded that your value doesn’t come from doing more or being better — but from being God’s beloved. If you’ve ever felt like you weren’t enough or tried to fix your life with a dose of self-help, this devotional offers a deeper, lasting truth.

With Scripture, storytelling, and soul-stirring prompts, you’ll be equipped to live fully — mind, body, and spirit — in the freedom and wholeness found in Christ.

Find your copy at DaySpring or your favorite retailer.

When Your Spirit Is Overwhelmed

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I work my full-time job from a desk in the corner of my bedroom. Just to the right of my chair is the only full-length mirror in the house. It hangs on my scratched-up, builder-grade closet door and reflects me sitting at my desk. And usually, a kid who comes visiting.

There’s laundry piled high on one side of the chair. I don’t know if it’s dirty or clean— probably both. Until April, there was a Christmas tree peeking out in the corner. I’ve had the desk chair since college, and my chipped-paint desk was a garage sale find. Packages opened but not dealt with lie just out of my mirror view. Jeans wait in a bag to be returned. Summer activity brochures splay open on the carpet, my desk tasks spilling over onto the floor.

Outside the bedroom/office door, my kids bicker and protest bedtime, and more laundry waits. House projects compel, dishes fill the sink, and the empty fridge reminds me I need to get groceries, stat.

I only must turn around to see the ways I’m behind on life.

My to-do list always overruns the lines on a page, reminding me that it will never end. It’s not hard to get overwhelmed by it all. So many tasks. Some nonnegotiable, others that can (and will) wait. Yet amidst the to-do’s engulfing me, there’s a tiny nugget of peace when I remember the Hands that are truly holding all things together.

When I’m overcome by the tasks and ordinary stuff of my life, even then God is with me. It doesn’t require a crisis to be exhausted and in need of God’s peace. When we remember to lean into Him instead of fretting over what remains undone, it can seriously strengthen our hearts.

On the overwhelming and ordinary days, He knows our steps, and He walks them with us. The tasks may pile up, but they’ll never overtake the love, peace, and strength God has for us.

“When my spirit was overwhelmed within me,
Then You knew my path.“
Psalm 142:3 NKJV

This devotion is by Anna E. Rendell as published in 100 Days of Strength in Any Struggle.

Friend, what feels overwhelming in your life today? Ask God to show you the one next step He wants you to take. Ask Him to give you a picture of what the path ahead looks like. Ask Him to reassure your spirit of His steadfast presence. We’d love to hear in the comments what the Lord brings to your mind!

Surely, the Lord is near. His strength is yours. Rest in Him today.

Looking for a meaningful summer read? For more real stories and biblical encouragement for daily life, grab a copy of our (in)courage devotional journal, 100 Days of Strength in Any Struggle. We’ve prayed over every page and we know you’ll finish the journey changed by God’s strength.  

The Freedom Found on the Other Side of Envy

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I brought a rush of hot, summer air with me as I walked through my friend’s front door. I turned the corner down her hall, and there they were: my friend, just a handful of days postpartum, and her tiny child sleeping wrapped against her chest. Tears blurred my vision. I often cry when my friends have babies.

When she first told me she was pregnant, I had burst into tears.

“You,” I told her with utter sincerity, “are going to be a wonderful mother.”

It was true — motherhood was embedded in her DNA. But I wasn’t sure if it was embedded in mine.

Now, my friend stood up from her chair, a smile stretching across her cheeks, and placed the baby in my arms. I sat on her leather couch and stared at him, overwhelmed by his presence despite how little space he took up in my arms. He was light, precious. I couldn’t get over how tiny his nose was, or how I could feel his lips blowing the smallest stream of air each time he exhaled.

For the next hour, she recounted her birth story. She wasn’t tired like I expected. She was vibrant and energized, as if motherhood had given her distinct purpose and a reason for being on this earth. Her face was awash with color; she bounced around the room even though she had given birth just a few days earlier. She was a woman who had partaken in the miracle of childbirth, and the adrenaline was still coursing through her body.

I held her son in silence while she spoke, my heart racing as I listened. I grew increasingly overwhelmed as she talked — like the very air was closing in on me.

With each word she spoke, the lurching in my chest grew tighter and more pronounced. I didn’t know what to say. Even though neither of us had acknowledged it, I knew everything had suddenly changed. I didn’t know what she needed now that she had a baby. I didn’t know what our friendship would look like now that she was a mother. A chasm had formed between us that I didn’t know how to cross. My envy was thick, and the depth of my loneliness felt inescapable. My friend didn’t know it then, but I wanted everything she seemed to have: a husband, a house, and now, a baby.

I wanted to celebrate with her, but I also wanted to leave. I sat on my hands instead. Eventually, I collected my purse and told her I should go. Her eyes were still radiant. She was in her own beautiful world, and she couldn’t help but glow.

I hugged her, kissed the top of her child’s head, and assured her to call me if she needed anything. Then I climbed into my car and cried.

My envy, pain, and loneliness crowded out my capacity for celebration. I didn’t know how to hold my envy and her happiness together in my hands. I was watching the hopes and dreams I had for myself play out in someone else’s life, and I was terrified that was the way it would always be.

I put my car in drive and cried the entire way home.

I would’ve liked my envy and loneliness to be fixed with a marriage and children. I would’ve preferred God to hand me a husband the way someone hands me French fries at the drive-through window. For so long, I kept my eyes fixed on my friends’ lives. I felt like God was making all of their dreams come true and had somehow forgotten about me.

Instead of keeping my eyes on Jesus and on the adventures He might have in store for me, I focused on what I didn’t have.

The apostle Peter had a similar experience. In John 21, Peter and Jesus share a deeply personal moment that offers much healing and redemption. Near the end of the chapter, Jesus gives Peter a glimpse of how he’s going to die. Talk about intense. Peter doesn’t know how to handle what Jesus tells him, so he awkwardly looks over at John and asks, “Lord, what about him?” (v. 21).

I imagine Jesus keeping His eyes on Peter as He replies, “If I want him to remain alive until I return, what is that to you? You must follow me” (v. 22).

I do this a lot. I look out at the world, and I see my friends getting married and having babies, and I feel my heart shatter a little with fear and loneliness, and I ask Jesus, “What about her? Why is her life going the way she wants it to? Why are her dreams coming true?”

And I think Jesus keeps His tender eyes trained on me and says with kindness, “What is that to you? You must follow Me.”

You must follow Me.

Jesus hasn’t called me to follow my friends. He hasn’t even called me to necessarily follow my dreams. He’s called me to follow Him.

When we trust Jesus, we become free.

Free to live the lives and dream the dreams He has for us.
Free to celebrate what He has in store for our friends.
Free to rejoice instead of envy.

Even if it still hurts a little (which, in all honesty, it does), I can keep my eyes on Jesus through the pain. I can celebrate and rejoice with my friends over what God is doing in their lives, because I can choose to trust Him instead of envying others. Trust is more powerful and brave than envy anyway.

Envy is self-centered. Trust is generous.
Envy is fearful. Trust is courageous.
Envy sees only the negative. Trust chooses, over and over, to see the good.

I can cross our new life-stage divide with arms wide open, ready to celebrate all God has for my friend, and trusting Jesus has adventures in store for me.

And if, in the midst of my celebration and trust, the envy and pain and loneliness still sneak in, I’ll bring every ache into the light of Jesus. Because no matter what happens in the lives of the people around me, I’m choosing to follow Him.

Written by Aliza Latta, adapted from (in)courage’s inspiring book, Come Sit with Me.

Looking for a meaningful summer read? Come Sit with Me is like sitting down with 26 trusted friends, each bringing their own raw story of hope and healing amid relational challenges. Discover how God can bring joy and healing through your disagreements, differences, and discomfort in ways you might never expect.

 

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

Seeking God’s Kingdom Like a Child

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Every July when I was a child, my family spent one week at a multi-generational summer camp. We stayed in a semi-rustic lake cottage on the Canadian border where we enjoyed swimming, fishing, boating, biking, campfires, and corny talent shows. Each day offered a range of activities for adults and separate activities for kids, all of whom were placed in camp groups according to age. As a child, I always said this was my happy place. Years later, my own children said the same.

Inevitably, the week would include some sort of treasure hunt. Running in flip-flops all over the lake shore, up root-laden paths, through grassy paddocks, and even sneaking into the grown-ups’ dining room — this was the stuff of childhood dreams.

I still remember the year my team found the treasure. Out of breath, we stood before a gnarled oak tree, shading a hammock near the end of the Old Lake Trail. A hollow in that ancient tree held the prize — an enormous bag of foil-wrapped candies in a myriad of colors. I don’t remember who had the honor of removing the prize, but we all shared in the delight.

I often think of the joy involved in that wild race to discover the treasure and wonder if that is how God wants us to seek Him — with childlike joy and wild abandon, discovering Him with breathless delight.

Jeremiah 29:13 (NIV) promises, “You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.” It sounds a bit like a challenge, perhaps even an invitation to adventure, but if we don’t accept the challenge, we miss out on the prize.

As adults, we often lose that sense of wonder which seems to come more easily in childhood. We forget the joy of seeking, and we sometimes misplace that quick willingness to accept a challenge. We would rather have quick solutions that fit our hurried lifestyle.

But children have a carefree, exuberant way of pursuing a prize. What if we were more like children as we pursue God? What if we sought Him, our prize, with a lightness of being — not questioning or striving but enjoying each moment of the hunt. What would we find at the end of the trail?

Jesus tells us, “The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field. When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy went and sold all he had and bought that field” (Matthew 13:44 NIV). Do we have that kind of joy as we seek the Lord and His kingdom?

I honestly believe God enjoys hiding treasures for us, His children — and He wants us to enjoy the pursuit as well. He doesn’t want us to be burdened by the weight of this world, but to fix our eyes on the Kingdom that is already within reach, a treasure waiting to be found.

It’s no coincidence that Jesus mentions the receptivity of children twice in the gospel of Matthew:

Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.
Matthew 18:3

Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.
Matthew 19:14

If we are to truly encounter His kingdom here on earth, we must set our grown-up busyness aside and welcome the wonder that surrounds us each day — chasing after treasure with joy and expectation in our hearts. In that place of simple childlikeness, I believe He satisfies our hidden longings, opening the eyes of our hearts to see Him as He really is. 

How will you embrace childlikeness as you pursue God’s kingdom today? Maybe it looks like taking time to walk in the park or play with your dog. Perhaps you have a desire to draw, or paint, or sing. Is there a game you haven’t played in years? Or a beloved book you haven’t read since childhood? The possibilities are endless. Invite Him to join you in whatever you choose and ask Him for a fresh perspective on His kingdom, and your place in it, as you seek the hidden treasure of His immeasurable love.

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

This Is the Joy Your Soul’s Been Craving

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“You will show me the way of life,
granting me the joy of your presence
and the pleasures of living with you forever.”
Psalm 16:11 NLT

The start of summer has a way of stirring something in us. Longer days, warm light, the scent of sunscreen and freshly cut grass — it all whispers of possibility. Of slowing down. Of something new.

And yet, joy doesn’t always arrive with the season. The calendar may say summer, but our souls might still feel stuck in winter. Disappointment lingers. Pressures press in. The noise of life doesn’t take a vacation.

So how do we receive the joy God promises when our circumstances don’t instantly shift?

Psalm 16:11 reminds us that joy isn’t found in everything going right — it’s found in God’s presence. He shows us the way of life when we walk with Him, not just in our big decisions but in our daily thoughts, words, and ways.

When we pause to acknowledge Jesus in the everyday — giving thanks while folding laundry, choosing kindness in a tense moment, inviting Him into our worries — we make space to experience His joy. Not surface-level happiness, but soul-deep gladness that grows as we trust Him.

So as summer begins, may we not just chase relaxation or fun or escape. Let’s seek the One who offers lasting joy. He is near. He is faithful. And even in hard seasons, His presence is our peace.

This Is Why I Share My Story

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Trigger warning: This is a personal story that contains eating disorder content.

I can’t remember my life before my eating disorder — before the starving, obsessive weigh-ins, shameful self-talk, and over-exercising. But that’s because what happened in those fourteen years prior shaped my self-image entirely. My eating disorder didn’t appear overnight; it was a slow descent into darkness. Before it all started, there were years of hiding shameful secrets and self-harm — and, before that, years of abuse. 

Sometimes we create our stories, but sometimes they create us. They shape us and the enemy taunts us with lies to believe about ourselves. I didn’t understand this when I detested my reflection, when all I could see were flaws. Deep inside, I believed that if I could disappear, life would improve. The more I embraced this lie, the less I ate and the thinner I became. But nothing changed. The emptiness inside only grew while my self-esteem lessened. 

My body and quest for perfection became my idol. Calories, food, exercise — every aspect became an obsession. As a young adult, my condition worsened until I finally reached out for help. I feared gaining weight. I feared living without the control I thought I’d gained through my eating disorder. And I feared admitting any of this. Still, tired and weary, I reached out to a Christian counselor who helped me in the healing process of renewing my mind. 

The initial transformation began when I started replacing the lies I believed about myself with God’s truth. My counselor suggested creating an index card binder. On one side, I wrote the lie I believed and on the other side I wrote a scripture of what God says about me. I’d draw an “X” over each lie, physically marking it out on the card and, figuratively, in my mind. For years, I carried these cards everywhere — they were constant reminders of the truth amidst my false beliefs.  

Gradually, over days and months, I spent less time consumed with the lies and more time embracing God’s truth. Then, one day I caught my reflection and actually spoke something kind to myself. This was just the beginning. I spent years in God’s Word and prayer, fighting my way through my quest for perfection and control.

Years later, I returned back to counseling, exhausted from carrying a heart full of stress and worry. Though I had been working to overcome my eating disorder, I didn’t realize my unhealed past was the root cause of my pain and struggle. I finally named my emotional wounds — the ones I carried for decades — and my relationship with God healed and deepened. I finally allowed myself to be fully seen by Him — no filters, no performance. I named my wounds, and God met me there with His grace-filled love. 

I share my story to say — not all eating disorders are just about food. Eating disorders are not just about size or weight — the root runs much deeper.

Perhaps you eat your feelings, beat them up at the gym, purge them in the bathroom, or numb them with substances. Whatever your struggle, there is hope. There is a God who draws you in with His love. 

Before counseling, and before I was grounded in God’s Word, I let my wounds speak and I believed the lies. I don’t know your story or the traumas you’ve endured, but I know this: God created us with mind, body, and soul. True healing — seeing ourselves as God does — requires the brave work of confronting pain and filling our mind, body, and soul with the truth from His Word.

When battling my eating disorder, I believed the lie that failure means not living up to impossible standards. But truth from God’s Word says, “My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever” (Psalm 73:26). 

When battling my eating disorder, I believed the lie that the body should take the beating and become our obsessive focus. But truth from God’s Word records Jesus saying, “Take, eat; this is My body which is broken for you” (1 Corinthians 11:24). Indeed, Jesus became broken for us; and He should become our primary focus. 

When battling my eating disorder, I believed the lie that I needed to constantly push myself — do more, try harder, be perfect. But truth from God’s Word says, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9).

Each of these verses became God’s life-giving bread that sustained my soul, leading me towards healing and surrender. Over the past thirty-eight years that I’ve spent working with women and young girls, I’ve met so many who share stories like my own — stories of longing to be set free from eating disorders and struggles with their body. This is why I share my story; because I wish someone had shared theirs with me. 

Sweet friend, you don’t have to face this alone. Seek help from a Christian counselor, a medical professional, a trusted friend, or a spiritual mentor. May God bring you hope and help as you navigate this journey. And may He walk with you through every step of your healing, giving you the strength you need each day.

At (in)courage, we believe in making space for all stories and experiences. With heartache, we recognize the reality of eating disorders. With hope, we share this story — proclaiming the help and healing that can be found in community and Christ. We are here for you, in prayer and in the comments below, should you wish to respond to this guest article.

What Helps You Feel Capable Instead of Crazy

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A couple of months ago, I had a doctor’s appointment that was in a word… disappointing. I scheduled the appointment because I wanted guidance on how to walk through this whole *waves hand in the air* perimenopause stage that has me feeling like a stranger in my own body. When I explained my symptoms to the doctor amidst tears, she acted like I was explaining that the sun comes up in the east and sets in the west. In other words, she looked mighty bored and disinterested.

And despite being armed with information about my supplements and eating habits and ready to talk about all the things that might help or hinder my frustrating symptoms, none of that entered our conversation. My doctor didn’t ask and didn’t seem to care.

But hey, she looked all of 15 years old, so how was she supposed to understand what being 50 feels like? (Said with no small amount of sarcasm.)

It’s super fun to vulnerably turn your heart inside out to someone — only to have that person not receive what you’re saying. (Said no one.)

After my appointment, I speed-walked back to my car. And when I pulled the car door shut, I cried yet again. This office came highly recommended, and it took five months to get an appointment. I had been so incredibly hopeful that I would leave with reassurance and practical care options. Instead, I left with frustration and a heaping dose of disappointment.

Now let’s contrast that to my most recent visit to the same office, but with a different doctor. While I was only scheduled for my yearly well check, the doctor asked if I had anything I’d like to discuss. I took the opportunity to relay a lot of the same info I had relayed to her colleague two months earlier. But unlike my last visit, this doctor listened intently and asked several follow-up questions, told me she understood what I was going through, and offered numerous options for what I could do next.

After this appointment, I practically skipped to my car, contemplating a few twirls in the parking lot à la Maria von Trapp in The Sound of Music. As I pulled my car door shut, I proceeded to message a girlfriend in my same life stage and relay my positive experience to her.

What a difference a kind, listening ear can make in helping one feel validated and capable rather than crazy.

While you may not be in my stage of life, you likely know what it is to be flattened by words that at best discourage you and at worst break your spirit.

Maybe you finally got the gumption to share with someone a dream you’re working towards, and in return, that person only lists all the reasons you’re foolish to entertain such a dream.

Maybe you posted an anecdote on Instagram about the difficulties of parenting, and the first person to comment tells you to get over it and quit complaining.

Maybe you believed a particular relationship was moving along just fine, but it turns out the other person wants to part ways.

There are a million ways you can turn your heart inside out, only to have the person on the receiving end dismiss you with a wave of a hand.

My experience, and I’m guessing yours too, confirms the truth Scripture proclaims: Words have the power to bring life and death. I’ve felt that sting of death from cutting or uncaring words, as well as the gift of spoken life.

Proverbs 16:24 (ESV) tells us:

“Kind words are like honey—
sweet to the soul and healthy for the body.”

While reading Holley Gerth’s devotional, 365 Truths for Every Woman’s Heart, I learned that from ancient times onward, honey has been regarded as a healing agent in wound care. Its antibacterial features and anti-inflammatory qualities can keep problems from getting worse. And there’s no denying that its soothing properties help a hot cup of tea soothe a sore throat.

While I can’t control how someone else talks to me, I can control my words and attitude while talking to others. Like honey, my words can heal. But I also want them to be relayed in a way reflected by Proverbs 15:4 (ESV):

“A gentle tongue is a tree of life,
but perverseness in it breaks the spirit.”

The way we talk to others is as important as what we say. Admittedly, I’ve experienced hard conversations where I’ve had to apologize not for what I said but for the way I said it.

Recognizing the damage our tone of voice and word choice can have doesn’t mean we say only what others want to hear. Sometimes, a needed (even if painful) word is necessary to give and receive. But if we want the words we speak to be soothing like honey while also gentle, we must train our hearts for it. We do that by regularly meeting with Jesus and investing in friendships that point to gospel truth.

So if you’ve ever left a conversation — or a doctor’s office — with tears in your eyes and hope deflated in your chest, please know that you’re not alone. I’ve been there too, wondering why it’s so hard to be heard, why vulnerability sometimes feels like a losing game.

But dearheart, don’t miss this: your words hold incredible power.

Even if you’ve been on the receiving end of apathy or judgment, you still get to be the kind of person who offers the opposite. The kind who listens closely. The kind who validates tender places. The kind who sprinkles her speech with honey — sweet, healing, and full of life. You may never know the full impact of your kindness, but someone else just might leave an encounter with you practically skipping to their car, heart buoyed, and hope restored.

 

Listen to Kristen’s devotion here or on your fave podcast app!

Even When You Don’t Know Why You’re Sad

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It was a simple text. “I’m headed to Costco later… need anything?”

Simple, thoughtful, kind. My friend knew my husband was out of town, it was end of the school year craziness, and I was working on final book edits. She was employing one of my favorite friendship strategies: offer to help while doing something you’re already doing!

What normally would have made me feel seen and loved instantly sent me into a tailspin I couldn’t pull out of.

My mind rushed through the list of all the things we needed from Costco. With three teenage boys who eat all the time, the fridge was empty again. Bread, apples, bananas, carrots, chicken, milk, eggs, frozen mango, lettuce, tortilla chips, cheese, and seventeen other things rattled in my brain. I couldn’t send her my entire $300 shopping list. I would just go to the store myself later. But I didn’t want to. I didn’t have time. Help was available now. But which things were most important? Why was this so hard to decide?

I tried to text back three times… and then the dam broke and I started to cry.

What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I get it together?

I retreated to the bathroom. Leaned against the wall. Sunk down to the floor. Held my knees. And sobbed.

Somehow a text about Costco unleashed a deep sadness I couldn’t hold in. I cried and cried until a mountain of soggy Kleenex formed around me. I didn’t know where the sadness was coming from or when the tears would run dry.

Thirty minutes later, I was back to unloading the dishwasher, answering emails, coordinating rides for my teens, checking on my elderly neighbor, and feeding my sourdough starter.

This is anxiety and depression.

It’s like one of those awful Viking ship carnival rides that swing from height to height, bringing you back to center for a moment barely long enough to catch your breath before pushing you way past your equilibrium again. I don’t like this ride.

I finally decided that bananas, blueberries, almond milk, and a rotisserie chicken would be extremely helpful. My husband Facetimed me, and we both laughed over my splotchy red face and the crocodile tears that fell as soon as I said hello. (Levity after 20 years of marriage is a gift.) I took a nap because that’s the only thing that made sense.

Later, my friend arrived with my mini Costco haul. I thanked her and we chatted about summer plans and her mom falling and how our kids are getting so big. As she moved to leave, lest her own groceries spoil, I blurted out, “Can you pray for me?” and then promptly started to cry — again.

My friend pulled me into a hug and asked what was wrong. All I could do was shrug as tears soaked her shoulder.

I babbled about how it could be the grief I was holding for dear ones walking through fiery trials or these dang perimenopausal hormones that can’t decide which way is up. I wondered aloud if I was in the thick of a spiritual attack or if it was the weight of uncertainty surrounding some big decisions. Maybe I ate too much gluten or spent too much time on social media or…

“I don’t know,” I said again and again.

My friend looked at me and said, “Maybe you don’t have to know.”

As someone who has struggled with diagnosed anxiety and depression for almost a decade (and likely all my life before I knew what to call it), it still frustrates me to no end that I can’t easily name or explain what I experience. I prefer to recognize, identify, and analyze my thoughts and feelings, along with their root cause, and then develop a five-step strategy to move through, learn from, and never return to their uncomfortable company again. Please and thank you.

But my friend’s gentle words reminded me of what I’ve learned through years of mental health struggle: Jesus doesn’t need me to understand or explain it in order to meet me in it.

The God of all comfort, the God of all hope, the God who works all things for my good, the One who never leaves me or forsakes me, the Shepherd who calls me by name and carries me close to His heart is with me on the bathroom floor. His presence envelops me as I take the nap my body needs, and as I push through to meet the deadline that must be met. His goodness follows me and His mercy runs ahead of me. I don’t have to perfectly articulate why I need Him — it’s enough to simply cry out that I do.

God is already here.

My heart knows what David penned:

Where can I go from your Spirit?
    Where can I flee from your presence?
 If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
    if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
    if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me,
    your right hand will hold me fast.
If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me
    and the light become night around me,”
even the darkness will not be dark to you;
    the night will shine like the day,
    for darkness is as light to you.
Psalm 139:7-12 NIV

I don’t need to justify my grieving heart and jittery body and distracted mind for the ache to be real. The darkness becomes light when I stop shaming myself for the sadness I can’t explain. God’s hand holds me when I call out to Him, then send a deeply honest text to a few trusted friends. I feel His love when others meet me in my mess and love me still — splotchy face and all.

Anxiety and depression can feel like a darkness that will never lift. But they do. They have. Today I am okay.

But even when the darkness feels thick, even when I want to hide, God’s love finds me.

He finds you too.

He never left you.

Becky’s upcoming book, A Verse a Day for the Anxious Soul, is a gentle guide to experiencing God’s peace when anxiety weighs heavy. Preorder your copy now.

 

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

And consider sharing this article or episode with a friend. 

We Sit in the Shade of Trees We Did Not Plant

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There’s nothing quite like the combination of surprise and nostalgia tucked inside the portion of Facebook called “memories”. Every time I remember to check the daily collection of “on this day” posts, it’s like opening a time capsule of old photos, status updates I’ve long forgotten, and captions dating back to those awkward middle school days.

Last month, with a single click, I was transported to my college graduation. “10 Years Ago Today,” Facebook declared. “How in the actual world can that be possible?” I said to my computer screen. And yet the pixels told the truth and the calendar confirmed it: A decade has passed since I donned a cap and gown, slipped into red high heels, walked across the stage (while fervently praying I wouldn’t trip) and received a piece of paper to mark the conclusion of four incredible, difficult, beautiful, and life-changing years.

Time is a funny thing, both slow and stretching and shockingly quick. Blink and suddenly the present becomes past. Somehow, though, in the decade of days since commencement, two sentences from that day have stayed in my memory (no Facebook app needed).

I thought of one line recently as I sat in a classroom two buildings away from the stage I danced barefoot on in shows every spring and then carefully crossed in heels that one morning in May. Truth be told, I’ve thought of it hundreds of times, because the seasons keep shifting and the reminder remains.

On a May day ten years ago, our beloved college president offered this line as an encouragement and an invitation to go and do the same for the ones who come behind:

“We sit in the shade of trees we did not plant.”

In other words, because of the seeds sown generations ago, we’re able to find a little bit of respite from the heat. Because others came before us, watering and tending with care, we get to rest and enjoy beauty we can’t sign our names to. Our right-now lives are changed because someone somewhere at some point gave sacrificially and showed up faithfully.

Once upon a time, someone planted a seed, and now we sit in its shade.

There are dozens of women who have shaped me in some way, often through simply observing how they live their regular daily lives. Still there are generations more, like the early Christian women martyrs I learned about in that classroom last fall, whose legacy lives on like branches growing out and up and on and on. When I wrote about the women, I hoped to do so in a way that encouraged us to listen to their echo, to slow down long enough that we don’t miss the message they gave everything to declare and, to the death, refused to deny: the Kingdom will not be shaken.

But today, as I read those fall words that hold true and consider a decades-old line about seeds and shade, an unexpected connection comes to mind. In Mark 4, after telling the parable of the sower and the soils, Jesus said:

“How can I show you what the kingdom of God is like? What story can I use to explain it? The kingdom of God is like a mustard seed, the smallest seed you plant in the ground. But when planted, this seed grows and becomes the largest of all garden plants. It produces large branches, and the wild birds can make nests in its shade.”
Mark 4:30-32 NCV

In case we missed the surprising shift from big and grand to tiny ordinary things that really do change history, the one who is called both Gardener and King assures us it’s true:

“The kingdom of God is like someone who plants seed in the ground.”
Mark 4:26 NCV

Ten years ago, hours before crossing the stage, I emailed our college president to say thank you for those four full years. Within minutes, he replied with a prayer specific to what I shared, alongside a note of personal encouragement to me. The only other line I remember from graduation morning? It wasn’t declared in an auditorium. Instead, tucked quietly inside an email, he wrote “You are wired for glory” before commissioning me into the next chapter.

Somehow, he made time during commencement weekend to plant a seed of truth and encouragement. It wasn’t for show or to be known – he simply saw and stopped, and then spoke words I’ll never forget and want to pass along to you today.

Each of us is wired for glory. Each of us is invited and commissioned to plant seeds of kindness, love, encouragement, and truth. We may not get to see the branches that eventually stretch to offer shade, but what would happen if we chose to trust the timeline to the Gardener?

What if we dared to push back against the widely seen, the popular, and the pixelated, by choosing the smaller things?

Few of us will sit in the shade of trees we ourselves planted, but every single day we walk a path and rest in the shade that was made for us long ago by names we’ll likely never know.

May we go and do the same.

You are wired for glory, friend. Let’s plant some seeds.

 

Listen to Kaitlyn’s devotion here or wherever you stream the (in)courage podcast.

Hold Tight to His Heart + A Summertime Recipe

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“How happy is the one who does not
walk in the advice of the wicked
or stand in the pathway with sinners
or sit in the company of mockers!
Instead, his delight is in the Lord’s instruction,
and he meditates on it day and night.
He is like a tree planted beside flowing streams
that bears its fruit in its season,
and its leaf does not wither.
Whatever he does prospers.

The wicked are not like this;
instead, they are like chaff that the wind blows away.
Therefore the wicked will not stand up in the judgment,
nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous.

For the Lord watches over the way of the righteous,
but the way of the wicked leads to ruin.”
Psalm 1 CSB

When hard news comes, when difficulties happen, we can be tempted to think that if our life is a Farmer’s Market, the stalls will now be empty. There will be only fragile leaves chased away by the wind. All the glory and color will be gone.

But the reality is this: As long as we are joined to Jesus, there will be fruit in our lives — from the time we are sneaker-wearing teenagers to silver-haired senior citizens blowing out one hundred candles on the cake. In other words, there will always be miraculous things coming to and through us.

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

So let’s cling to God’s promises. Hold tight to His heart. Have strong roots that burrow deep into His affection for us. We will not falter. We will not fail. We will not lead a barren life at any age. Yes, we will be women of beauty, growth, and blessings as long as we live. Because we are trees planted by the river of God’s love, and it will never run dry.

This excerpt is by Holley Gerth, published in the (in)courage Devotional Bible. It has been edited from its original form.

And now a brand new recipe for you!

Thank you to our friend Nancy C. for putting together this delicious recipe that tastes like summer and uses fresh herbs and produce. Put those farmers’ market or backyard garden bell peppers, broccoli, cucumbers, and herbs to good use with this delicious dill dip! We hope you try this dip with friends all summer long. Scroll down for the recipe and to download a FREE printable recipe card!

Lemon-Dill Dip

Download the FREE recipe card here!

Prep Time: 15 minutes
Bake Time: none
Makes 4-6 servings

INGREDIENTS:

  • 1 cup sour cream
  • 3/4 cup mayonnaise
  • 1 tsp. fresh lemon juice
  • 1 tsp. lemon zest
  • 3 Tbsp. finely chopped fresh dill, plus a little more for garnish
  • 2 tsp. minced onion
  • 1 tsp. garlic powder
  • 1/2 tsp. salt
  • Dash of pepper

INSTRUCTIONS:

  1. In medium-sized bowl, mix together the sour cream, mayonnaise, and lemon juice.
  2. Next, add in the lemon zest, fresh dill, minced onion, garlic powder, salt, and pepper.
  3. Cover and refrigerate for 1 to 2 hours before serving.
  4. When ready to serve, garnish the top of the dip with a sprinkle of chopped fresh dill, if desired.
  5. Serve dip with raw veggies, crackers, pretzels, and/or chips.

Note: A variety of crackers and fresh, raw veggies go well with this dip, like baby carrots, cucumbers, bell peppers, and broccoli.

Find these beautiful serving dishes and tea towel set in the Mary & Martha home collection at DaySpring. And tell us – what’s your favorite recipe for using a Farmers Market bounty?