For the One Distracted, Upset, and Ready to Be Honest

For the One Distracted, Upset, and Ready to Be Honest

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Sixty-three women gathered in a mountain lodge as sweat trickled down their temples and battery-powered lanterns flickered in the corners. The power was out. No AC. No lights. No mic. And did I mention I was the weekend speaker?

The worship team sang a cappella. Women lifted their hands in praise while others used their retreat program to fan flushed faces. The atmosphere felt heavy—yet in the middle of it, I whispered, Jesus, make me tender. Let them encounter Your presence.

I stood up that Friday night without a mic and barely enough light to see my notes. A high-pitched alarm screeched incessantly. A noisy tractor drove by. The distractions and irritations were almost comical. I stood before the visibly wilted and weary group, bowed my head and belted out a prayer that I can only describe as from the Holy Spirit – because the atmosphere changed.

Where there was once grumbling and commotion, God now had our attention.

The theme of the retreat was Stay. It was all about practicing God’s presence. I opened with a message on what it means to Stay Tender to God’s Voice – and all the things that keep us hardened to His presence.

We talked about Martha. The one who was worried and upset. The one distracted by her many tasks. The one who came to Jesus and asked, “Lord, don’t you care…?”

Oh, how like Martha we can be. (Hi, I’m raising my hand.)

I’m like Martha when I’m worried about what to make for dinner while playing Uber driver for my teenagers (and how in the world do I get rid of that smell in their soccer bags?). I’m like Martha when the needs around me are overwhelming — but someone’s gotta take care of it and I feel like I’m the only one. I’m like Martha when God invites me to speak at a retreat, but it’s dark and I’m sticky with sweat and straining my voice to project and worried the right words won’t land.

Martha often gets a bad rap because being worried and upset isn’t a good look on anyone, and we quickly focus on the sister sitting at Jesus’s feet who chose what’s better.

There’s no doubt in my mind that I want to be like Mary, soaking up every word from my Savior. But I think we often skip past the very good thing Martha did in the midst of her meltdown:

Martha was distracted by her many tasks, and she came up and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to serve alone? So tell her to give me a hand.”
Luke 10:40 CSB

In her frenzy and frustration, Martha turned to her friend, Jesus, and told Him exactly what she was feeling and how she saw the situation.

Martha told the truth. And that truth-telling primed her heart to receive His truth.

“Martha, Martha,” Jesus said, “you are worried and upset about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has made the right choice, and it will not be taken away from her.” (41-42)

Sometimes we can’t see God’s care because we’re too focused on what we’re carrying.

Sometimes we have to first recognize and confess what’s in our hearts before we’re ready to sit at Jesus’s feet.

Jesus didn’t scold Martha’s honesty; He saw her, affirmed her, and then redirected her.

What are you worried and upset about today? Be honest with Jesus.

Honesty with God is the pathway to intimacy with God.

Honesty primes the heart for receptivity.

We have to be receptive – tender – to God’s voice to be transformed by God’s presence.

In order to truly engage with Jesus, Martha had to tell the truth about the distractions that were keeping her heart tough. Friends, we have to do the same.

Come to Jesus as you are. Come frazzled, distracted, or weighed down. Don’t hold back what’s really in your heart. Don’t wait for the noise to die down or for life to feel manageable. Bring your worries. Bring your overwhelm.

Tell Jesus the truth — because only then can He meet you with His.

The lights eventually came back on, and the room erupted in cheers. But the real breakthrough had already happened: God’s presence had pierced the dark, tenderizing our hearts and drawing us closer to Him.

Becky’s new book, A Verse a Day for the Anxious Soul, is a gentle guide into the presence of Jesus — especially when your heart feels heavy or tangled. Order your copy today.

 

God Turns Wasteland into Holy Ground

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Sometimes life feels like a wasteland. Maybe you’re holding onto pain from a relationship that didn’t turn out as you hoped. Or perhaps you’re burdened by the death of a dream or discouraged by unanswered prayers. Maybe the daily routine of groceries, bills, and doctor’s appointments makes you wonder if God even notices you anymore.

I know that feeling. And I think Moses did, too.

When we meet Moses in Exodus 3, he isn’t in a temple, nor is he deep in prayer. He’s not expecting a spiritual encounter. He’s just at work — tending sheep on Mount Horeb, a place whose very name means “wasteland.” (If there’s a less likely place to encounter God, I don’t know it.)

Moses had been through a lot. Rescued as a baby from Pharaoh’s cruel decree, raised in the palace but deeply aware of his Hebrew identity, he carried a complicated past. One rash act — killing an Egyptian overseer — caused him to run for his life. In Midian, far from the drama of his youth, he settled into a life of anonymity. He married, became a father, and tried to build a quiet life.

The Moses who once held the future of a people in his hands now lived in obscurity, walking the same desolate hills day after day. I imagine he was tired. Maybe a bit cynical. Maybe convinced that his life’s most meaningful chapters were behind him.

But then: a bush ablaze — full of flames but not consumed.

Moses wasn’t looking for God. But God was looking for Moses.

Curiosity tugged Moses forward. He moved closer, maybe squinting at the strange sight. And it’s only once Moses draws near that God speaks his name: “Moses, Moses.”

God tells him, “Take off your sandals, for the place where you are standing is holy ground.”

Holy ground? Here? In the wasteland?

Yes.

We have a God who turns wastelands into holy places, who transforms the everyday into sacred, and who takes a shepherd in hiding and names him a deliverer.

Moses didn’t see himself as qualified. He rattled off excuses: I’m not a good speaker. People won’t trust me. I’m just a nobody. And maybe you’ve whispered the same excuses: I’m too old. I’m too tired. I’m too young. I’m not spiritual enough. I’ve messed up too much.

But for every excuse Moses offered, God had an answer: “I will be with you.”

Maybe you feel like you’re wandering in a wasteland right now. Like you’re weighed down with disappointment or regret. Maybe you feel that your life is unremarkable… and, if you’re being honest, forgettable.

But God sees you. God calls your name. You may not get a burning bush, but God is still in this business of pursuing us, of interrupting us. God is still stirring our curiosity and surprising us with grace. We just have to pay attention.

What if your weekday morning is precisely where God wants to meet you? What if the load of laundry, the school pickup line, or the work meeting is not wasted space but sacred ground?

The mystery of God is that we don’t always find certainty, but we do find presence. And in that presence, wastelands change.

The very place where Moses hid became the starting point for his calling. His ordinary day turned into a holy encounter that transformed everything.

What might happen if you stayed curious, too? If you moved toward and opened yourself to the possibility that God is nearer than you imagined?

Take off your shoes. Right here, right now, you’re on holy ground.

 

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

A Prayer for the Wilderness

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Several years ago, I sat on a cliff and stared out at the vast emptiness, the endless sand, brown and beige extending as far as my eye could see. I was somewhere in the middle of the wilderness — literally. Two weeks in Israel brought the Bible to life in ways that are hard to capture in words, as if all that was black and white and so beautifully true remained true — but turned technicolor.

Suddenly, I could smell a chorus of spices singing, rich and vibrant, in the Jerusalem market as I made my way toward the temple.

The briny air filled my lungs as I rode across the Sea of Galilee, deep blue waves lapping against the wooden boat.

Bright, beautiful flowers took my breath away in Gethsemane — an unexpected visual of life from death.

Large fish swam around my legs as I walked into the Jordan River.

I stood in the Elah Valley, where David killed Goliath, and bent to pick up a smooth stone from the stream.

It was incredible in one thousand ways I could talk about for the rest of my days, but lately, one moment in particular keeps coming to mind.

No matter which direction I turned, the wilderness stretched on and on and on. I sat down on the rocky cliff overlooking the desert, stared at the mountains and valleys of sand, and searched for signs of life. I strained my eyes until tears filled them, a silent prayer echoing inside, a quiet wondering of just how long I’ll be wandering through my own wilderness.

Nearly a decade before, I wrote the words of Isaiah 43:18-19 on a little green sticky note. And now, nearly a decade after the wind whipped my hair around and dried my tear-filled eyes, the somewhat faded slip of paper sits framed on my bookshelf, a visual of a promise that greets me every day:

“Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.”
Isaiah 43:18-19 NIV

Many years have passed, and in many ways, I’m still there, still somewhere in the middle of the wilderness. My hair is tangled from the wind, my cheeks tear-stained, and my hope bruised. I’m still searching for beauty in the barren places, still praying for a miracle. What I know now that I didn’t know then, though, is that this wilderness will stretch on beyond what I think I can take… but when it does, when I can’t take another step, God’s with-ness will carry me through.

It may sound like a cliche or a nice turn of phrase, but if you’re in a wasteland, that reality becomes the running river. If you’re in a storm, it’s the lifeboat. It’s not that the waves cease or you suddenly find yourself on the other side of the dry and desolate desert, but that in your grief and your exhaustion, in your worry and your fear, in your pain and your loneliness, you aren’t alone.

Your throat may be parched, your feet blistered, your body weary, and your heart aching, but you will be carried through to the new.

Somehow, someway, some day you’ll look back and see the way that was made and the Friend that refused to leave your side, come hell or high water or desert storm.

Truthfully, there are parts of my life where it seems like the wilderness is going to get the last word. I don’t understand God’s timing, but discovering that He is here in this place, too? Emmanuel, God with us, even in the wilderness? It is itself a miracle.

And so I’m learning to pray for what seems impossible… and to say at the very same time that I want God more than the answered prayer, that I want the Giver more than the gift, the Way Maker more than the way made.

For now, for as long as I’m wandering and waiting and watching, it sounds like this prayer on repeat. Sometimes I wrestle with the words, sometimes they’re just a whisper, and sometimes I weep through the lines, but always, thank God for God, He meets me here.

A prayer for the wilderness:
God, give us eyes to see and hearts that believe You never lead us into the desert to desert us. Remind us, here in the valley, in the wild, in the wilderness that stretches on, that You’re a God who comes close, stays beside, and walks with. Help us want the Miracle Worker more than the miracle itself, and also, Lord, please, would You please make a way? We know You can; we ask that You will. You’re the God of Through, the God of with-ness, and the God who sustains, and so we’ll say You’re good no matter where You lead — desert sand or Promised Land. One day, one step, one breath at a time, grant us strength for today and hope for tomorrow. We will dare to believe it: The story might include time in the wilderness, but that’s never where the story ends. You will be faithful to be faithful. You’re going to bring us all the way Home. Amen.

If you’re navigating the wilderness and could use a little extra encouragement, I’ve put together a collection of nine art prints  that are completely free to download. Enter your email at this link and they’ll be on the way to you within minutes!

 

Listen to Kaitlyn’s devotion below or on the (in)courage podcast. 

The God Who Sees You

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I sat across from the optician who was showcasing the frames that the local food bank program could offer at no charge. This isn’t how it was supposed to be, I told myself. 

I was carrying deep sorrow over facing this difficult season — alone as a newly single mother to an infant, with no family to lean on and without sufficient financial resources to secure my essential needs. I was dealing with the repercussions of another person’s decision that had blindsided me. My reality spun with broken dreams and a million questions.

I selected a frame and received a complimentary eye exam while trying to keep my 8-month-old daughter entertained. I could at least try to prevent my baby from getting restless – but containing my own restlessness was a challenge. 

The optician must have noticed the deep sadness and anguish in my eyes while examining them. Just as she finished the exam and instructed me to return in an hour, she paused and looked into my eyes – almost as if she was looking into my soul. Then she gently placed her hand on my wrist and reassured me that everything would be okay, offering comfort to my weary soul.

As promised, my glasses were ready within an hour. I collected my new glasses, which brought visual clarity to things I had previously missed. Once we finished the appointment, the optician handed me some paperwork, accompanied by a card. She recommended that I check the card at home, and then quickly showed me the door. 

Unable to resist my curiosity, I opened the card shortly after arriving at my bus stop. The card read, “Everything will be okay, Happy Holidays.” Inside was a grocery store gift card that would help me cover some essentials for my little girl and me. 

God had seen me and provided for me. 

In Genesis, Hagar is introduced as Sarai’s maidservant, whom Sarai gave to Abraham to conceive a child. This was Sarai’s desperate attempt to control and speed up God’s promise that she would have a child in her old age – and it was not happening quickly enough. Sarai’s plan “worked” and Hagar became pregnant with Ishmael. However, this decision ultimately led to conflict when the Lord fulfilled His promise to Sarai when she became pregnant with Isaac. After Isaac’s birth, Sarai had Abraham send Hagar and Ishmael away.

Alone in the wilderness, Hagar felt overwhelmed by despair and the fear of death for herself and her young son. She was caught in a situation she had no control over, bearing the weight of someone else’s decision. Yet, in her deepest distress, the Lord listened to her cries, came to her in her moment of need, and showed her a well of water that sustained them both.

“God heard the boy crying, and the angel of God called to Hagar from heaven and said to her, ‘What’s wrong, Hagar? Don’t be afraid, for God has heard the boy crying from the place where he is. Get up, help the boy up, and grasp his hand, for I will make him a great nation.’ Then God opened her eyes, and she saw a well. So she went and filled the waterskin and gave the boy a drink.”
Genesis 21:17-19 CSB

God powerfully showed His steadfast care and compassion for Hagar and Ishmael, not only by responding to their moment of despair and meeting their immediate needs, but also by promising a hope and a future for Ishmael.

Oh, friend, I really appreciate this reminder. I wonder if sometimes life’s challenges feel overwhelming because the weight of our current struggles makes us lose sight of the hope and promise Jesus has given us for the future. Just as my glasses helped me see clearly what I had missed, and just as God opened Hagar’s eyes to see the well, my prayer is that He will also open our eyes to recognize our salvation through His Son, Jesus.

In your times of desperation, tears, unmet expectations, and failures, He sees you too. He notices everything. The Psalmist expressed this beautifully in Psalm 56:8 NLT: “You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book.”

Our unchanging and faithful God has always been there for you and always will be. Just as He provided for me as a single mother and saw my needs when I felt all alone, He also saw Hagar and cared for her in the middle of the suffering she didn’t cause herself. 

Friend, Jesus also sees you, and even if your faith feels insufficient today, I stand in faith with you. Declaring that your salvation has come and that there is hope and a future ahead for you, too. 

May He open the eyes of our hearts to see Him today.

 

Listen to daily devotions on the (in)courage podcast! Or click below. 

 

You’re Meant to Be Part of the Family

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Content Warning: This article includes discussion of suicidal thoughts. While the story is shared with honesty and hope, it may be difficult for some readers. If you are struggling, please know you are not alone — support is available. In the U.S. and Canada, you can dial or text 988 for immediate help. (Names and details have been modified for privacy.)

It was Sam’s first Sunday at our church. 

She came up to me after I had finished preaching, introduced herself, and asked if we could talk after service. She said it was about something sensitive. Her eyes were wide and frantic, and I could sense how immediately she needed to speak.

As we sat down to chat, the first words out of her mouth were, “I’m planning on ending my life today.” She was jittery and fidgeting with her hands. I took a breath, my heart pounding in my chest. 

“Coming here was my last shot,” she continued. “I saw the church and walked in. This is it. I needed to see if God cares about me anymore. But I think I might be done after this.”

Honestly, I didn’t know how to respond. I gently asked if I could go get my husband, explaining how he’s currently getting his doctorate to be a psychologist and that he might have some wisdom to offer. 

“Oh yes,” she responded. “I’ll take any help I can get.”

About 45 seconds later, my husband joined me at the table; the three of us huddled together on the far side of the room. Sam started telling us how desperate she felt. She woke up depressed. She went to bed depressed. She felt like she had nothing and no one. She had followed God for years, but she didn’t know if she was doing it right. Nothing in her life was changing.

For most of the conversation, we simply listened. Every so often, we’d ask a question. Sometimes we’d offer a comment, but for the most part, we just let Sam share. The overwhelming theme of her story was how crushingly alone she felt. 

While my husband, David, wrote down resources for her – hotlines to call, and people to talk to – I told Sam, “I’d love to see you back at church service next week. I’d love for you to be part of our church.”

Her eyes widened. “Really?”

“Absolutely, Sam. The Bible talks about how when you follow God, you’re in the family of God. That means you get to be part of our church family! That means we’re family!” 

All of her mannerisms suddenly changed. Her fidgeting relaxed. Her frantic eyes were suddenly calm. She actually looked giddy and clapped her hands together, reminding me of a child on their birthday when a cake is presented before them. 

“I’m in the family?” She repeated back to me.

I reached out to squeeze her hand, and her fingers clutched mine as desperately and as tightly as she could.

“You sure are, Sam,” I said. “You’re in the family of God. That means every single Sunday, you get to come to a church service, and you get to have all of these people as your friends. You aren’t alone anymore. You have God, and you also have us.”

Psalm 68:6 declares a promise, “God places the lonely in families; he sets the prisoners free and gives them joy.” (NLT)

All of a sudden, joy was written all over Sam’s face. Her struggles had not disappeared, but I saw before my own eyes how joy was suddenly part of her testimony. The family of God is incredibly important – because God places the lonely in families.

Maybe you are the “lonely” described in Psalm 68. Maybe you resonate with Sam, and you long to belong. I want you to know something: you are a part of the family of God. I urge you to get connected to a local church and actively participate in the body of Christ. God is ready to place you into a family.

Or maybe you are not the lonely one, but instead, someone who has been a part of the family of God for as long as you can remember. Maybe you go to church services weekly, volunteer, and help in whatever ways you can. What Sam helped me realize is that when you’ve been part of the family of God for a long time, you can take it for granted. You can focus on the work it requires and, honestly, how hard it can sometimes be. But being part of a church isn’t simply about the work – it’s about the people.

Being part of the family of God is what we were made for. You get to help the “lonely” belong. You get to welcome them into the family.

Two weeks later, Sam wanted to talk after church again. I gave her an enormous hug, and was greeted with an even more enormous grin stretching across her beautiful face.

“I wanted to thank you and David,” she told me. “Two weeks ago, my life was saved. Life isn’t perfect, but it’s so much better because I know I’m not alone anymore.”  

Stepping foot in church that day was literally a death-to-life experience for Sam. And perhaps that’s part of why our resurrecting God designed church the way He did…

To remind each other that God’s family is so much better because we’re each a part of it.

 

Listen to Aliza’s devotion here or on the (in)courage podcast.

Mercies That Meet You Every Minute

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“The faithful love of the Lord never ends! His mercies never cease. Great is his faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh each morning.”
Lamentations 3:22–23 NLT

I’m in my car and turning onto the interstate that takes me over the lake. I like the way the water sparkles — like a mirror, always reflecting the light of the good sun.

As the water sparkles, I think about something that younger me never realized. Right here in my car, with nothing mystical or magnificent happening, I feel God and His presence. I think of the passage of Scripture that carried me through my weary, teenage years: the steadfast love of God never stops, and His mercies are new every morning.

Long gone are my adolescent years when I’d cry myself to sleep, unsure of God’s mercy and overwhelmed with the weight of life. Desperate to believe that God’s mercy was really for me, I’d cry my heart out just before sleep so many nights, only to wake up puffy-eyed and hoping the newness that I felt from waking to a new day was God’s way of waking me to new mercies.

Looking back, I now see that God’s mercy didn’t just come to me every morning; it also carried me through every night and every minute of every day. And if I held on to Him then, I can hold on to Him this minute, never needing to hold out for the morning to wash me anew. I can recall His mercies to my mind now, right here in this car driving over the lake that sparkles with the light of the good sun.

Wherever you are today, God’s mercies are available to you. Whether you’re raging over the injustices in your life or in the world, or you’re weary from the everyday mundane. Whether you cry yourself to sleep at night or bemoan when morning comes, you can count on God’s new mercies to meet you.

His mercies are new every minute, every millisecond, stretching wide and reaching deep to cover us for any reason . . . at any time, in any place. You can step into each new day knowing God’s love meets you and carries you.

by Rachel Marie Kang, as published in 100 Days of Strength in Any Struggle

100 Days of Strength in Any Struggle will take you on a journey of learning to see God clearer and to know Him deeper in the middle of your struggles. As you experience pain, move through daily challenges, or get bogged down by anxieties big or small, you’ll learn to find Him right in the middle of it, ready to strengthen you and give you rest. 

Our Worship Will Endure Forever and Ever

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One morning as I took a little scroll on social media, I came across a video of two elderly women singing praise to Jesus. Apparently, they are life-long friends, with one of them battling dementia at ninety-eight years old. Still, this beautiful woman sat in her wheelchair and enthusiastically kept the melody, recalling every word to the song.

This video brought tears to my eyes as I remembered my own grandma who suffered from Alzheimer’s disease. This cruel illness stole both her immediate short-term memory and long-term memory. There came a point when she no longer recognized faces or knew her family, and near the end she couldn’t even speak. However, not long before she passed into glory, she miraculously recalled the lyrics to a couple of precious and child-like worship songs.

It was Christmas Day, and our family gathered to celebrate Jesus’ birth as we always do. My grandparents, parents, aunts, uncles, siblings, and lots of cousins filled the rooms with conversations and laughter. As I entered the house, I went straight to the dining room table where Grandma was seated. Leaning in close, I gave Grandma a hug and a kiss. Then I plopped down in the chair beside her. Hoping for a spark of recognition, I tried engaging her, but she sat silently in her wheelchair. Nothing I said seemed to register . . . until I began softly singing, “Jesus Loves Me” and “Away in a Manger.” She perked up as I sang over and over, faintly smiling and even trying to sing along.

Worship brought a sparkle back into her distant eyes — and for those few moments of her awareness, I am grateful.

That faith-filled woman taught me to sing those two songs when I was a child. I sang them with my sons when they were young, and once again with Grandma when she was old. Grandma was the one who led me to Jesus. She and Grandpa would take me and my two cousins on trips to their cabin in the mountains. During these trips, they would tuck us into bed each night, telling us Bible stories and leading us in prayer.

One weekend around Christmastime, my cousins and I stayed over at their house for a visit. In preparation for the holiday, we made snowball cookies. While the cookies were baking, Grandma invited me to join her in the guest room that was located just off the kitchen. She asked me if I’d like to accept Jesus into my heart, and I eagerly said yes. So, side by side, we sat on the edge of the bed, our hands clasped and heads bowed, while Grandma led me in the prayer that changed my life and my eternity.

Thanks to Grandma, I have a joyous song in my heart to this day, just like she always had. Now, I worship in the kitchen, in the car, and on walks outside. Singing helps to reset my heart and mind on things above (Colossians 3:1-2). Worship ushers us into the presence of God, and I truly believe it is a powerful weapon against the enemy — a sure-fire way of pushing back even the darkest day.

Our desire to worship is innate; God created us to worship. Worship has been occurring in heaven since before creation, and will continue beyond time as we know it. For a child of God, worship is uncontainable — it wells up from deep within our souls and our spirits can’t help but cry out in grateful adoration.

Someday, our memories may fade, but our worship will never fall away. It begins here on earth and will continue as we transition to our heavenly home, where we will join in the angels’ infinite chorus.

My grandma is already in heaven singing to her heart’s content (maybe even doing a cartwheel). Someday I’ll join Grandma and sing praises before God’s throne, too. Once again, we’ll be together singing to Jesus. Scripture tells us that faith, hope, and love will remain (1 Corinthians 13:13), but it also reveals that worship endures forever and ever. 

Day and night they never stop saying: ‘Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty,’ who was, and is, and is to come.
Revelation 4:8

Sisters, turn on some worship music today and sing along to your heart’s content. Your perspective on things will surely shift as you join the chorus of heaven!

The Energy You Can Bring into Every Room

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A burst of unexpected laughter came from the bedroom where Dad was propped up on his hospice bed, while he watched Wheel of Fortune with my sister Juliann.

Dad was a huge fan of Wheel of Fortune, which he called the Old People Show due to his belief that the elderly were particularly fond of it.

On this particular evening, Pat Sajak announced the puzzle category: Living Things.

A few correctly-guessed letters were revealed. And now it was anyone’s guess on how to solve the puzzle:

C _ C _ _ S    _ L _ W_ _ S.

The contestants were stumped. But Dad, at age 84 with his cognitive acuity diminished, calmly announced to the TV:

“CACTUS FLOWERS”

This caused my sister to howl with laughter, which I could hear from the kitchen. When she told me what happened, I laughed so hard I cried a little.

I know this is potentially a “you had to be there” moment to understand why this was so funny to us, particularly since we were anticipating the end of Dad’s earthly life. But in those weeks, as Dad’s condition weakened, ridiculous things like “cactus flowers” had a mysterious way of pushing back the clouds of chaos and confusion.

There were dozens of moments like that in Dad’s final weeks on earth, moments that helped us remember that we were not alone in our stories or our grief.

It happened when we opened up old photo albums to find our shared stories in grainy photographs.

It happened when we played some of Dad’s favorite songs like “Peaceful, Easy Feeling” or “You Were Always on My Mind,” and he would strum his trusty air guitar.

It happened when we whispered reassurances to one another about the realness of heaven and the hope of our faith, a faith passed down to us from our parents.

When Dad was placed on hospice months earlier, we four siblings spaced out our visits so we could cover as many days and nights as possible. But as Dad’s health continued declining, we found ourselves overlapping our visits on purpose.

A few days after the cactus flowers incident, Juliann told me, “I can do this so much better when we are here together.”

I responded, simply, “Me, too.”

One day, I learned a new word that helped me see why that was true.

It happened while I was listening to an audiobook, The Lord is My Courage, on the way to my parents’ house. The book had become my faithful companion on those trips. I loved listening to the book on audio for two reasons. 1) I could feel the energy in the author’s voice. And 2) The author, K.J. Ramsey, is my friend. It brought me comfort to have K.J. as a “passenger” in my car during the hardest season of my life.

That day, K.J. uttered a word that illuminated something for me. The word: “co-regulation.” I had heard the term before but hadn’t paid much attention. But now, it was a word that asked for examination.

K.J. helped me understand that co-regulation happens when two autonomic nervous systems slide up next to each other. Co-regulation is how we offer comfort with a warm, responsive presence.

After hearing K.J. talk about co-regulation, I immediately sent her a message on Voxer, telling her what my sister and I had talked about – how we felt better when we were together.

“Is this a kind of sisterly co-regulation?” I asked.

She responded, “That 100 percent is sisterly co-regulation!”

For the next several days, I paid attention to the palpable difference when I was in the presence of a co-regulator. Our family even joked about getting T-shirts with the word “Co-Regulator” on the front.

I’m not exaggerating when I say that this revelation was life-changing for me, because it taught me that this – this! – is the energy I can bring into a room, any room, for the rest of my life.

I could come into a room not as a fixer, advice-giver, critic, or anything other than a person who offers safe harbor to another soul.

This is the way of Christ, who divinely embodies co-regulation. He is the warm and responsive presence who companions us in our storms. He is the Comforter who brings calm to our chaos.

Jesus also calls us to co-regulate with one another. Paul writes that we are to “bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ” (Galatians 6:2, ESV). The word burden refers to a load that a person couldn’t carry alone. Co-regulating not only lightens the load for others, it also serves to “fulfill the law of Christ.”

We co-regulate by praying, showing up with food, and being comfortable with someone else’s need for silence. We co-regulate through a listening ear, a meaningful conversation, a hearty laugh, or an inside joke about Wheel of Fortune.

Dad has now promoted to glory. I wonder often how Jesus was a co-regulating influence for Dad as he moved from this life to the next. I also have become more aware of the co-regulating influences in my life, and how I want to be the kind of person who offers that gift to others.

We don’t have to complicate it. Sometimes co-regulation takes the form of a text message, like the one I sent to my sister on an especially hard day. The text held two simple words that I knew would make her smile:

“Cactus flowers.”

 

Written in honor of one of the kindest co-regulators I’ve ever known, my dad, John Philip Dukes, October 25, 1937—September 4, 2022. 

By Jennifer Dukes Lee from the (in)courage archives.

 

Three Healing Choices After You Make a Mistake

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On the first day I had my driver’s license, I hopped in my new-to-me 1978 Chrysler Cordoba with the grand mission of driving to my godmother’s house to drop off a letter. It was a made-up errand so I could show off my newly minted driver’s license and car.

Nervous energy pulsed like rocket fuel through my 16-year-old, inexperienced veins. As I cruised down my street, the front end of my Cordoba extended out like a long, wide surfboard on the front of the car. If I ever wanted to do a picnic with ten of my friends sitting on the hood, there would be plenty of room.

As I followed the speed limit and obeyed the road signs, I congratulated myself on this maiden voyage, even though I hadn’t yet reached my destination. After only ten minutes of driving on my own, I envisioned the open roads and my independence. The world would be mine one mile at a time.

Who knew my godparents’ mailbox would crush my dreams of conquering the world?

As I turned into my godparents’ driveway, my inexperienced brain didn’t calculate the significantly longer hood of my Cordoba car hood than the comparably stubby hood of my parents’ 1980s GMC conversion van I’d learned how to drive in. Relatively speaking, only two friends could fit on the front of the van’s hood.

Even now, I can still hear the Cordoba’s authentic metal fender smashing my godparents’ wooden mailbox pole next to their driveway. My nine-month pregnant godmother speed-waddled out her front door to make sure I was okay.

Then the neighbors came out. My godfather came home. My dad drove over. As they inspected the damage, I cried into my godmother’s shoulder.

Minutes before, I was so sure of myself.

Then I messed up.

I hurt things that weren’t mine.

I didn’t have the power to fix it.

Deep down, I never wanted to drive again.

Was this how Peter felt waking up the morning after telling the people around the fire that he didn’t know Jesus? Could he still hear the echo of the rooster in his ears? (Matthew 26:74-75).

Before He was arrested, Jesus told the disciples to meet Him in Galilee (Matthew 26:32.) Peter didn’t listen and followed the arresting mob to the high priest’s home (Luke 22:54). Even before that, Jesus told Peter to pray against temptation when they were in the garden of Gethsemane (Matthew 26:40). Instead, Peter took a nap.

While we could focus on Peter’s pride, disobedience, or betrayal, we can learn so much more from the three healing choices Peter made in the wake of his mistakes:

  1. He didn’t isolate.
  2. He didn’t run from God.
  3. He embraced Jesus’ forgiveness and grace.

How often do we withdraw from others when we make mistakes? Shame whispers for us to run and hide. This is where Satan pummels us with lies about how we’ll never be able to recover. All lies. Without trusted, godly voices to remind us of God’s love and forgiveness, we’ll sink into a pit of self-condemnation. But, here’s the truth we can celebrate:

“So now there is no condemnation for those who belong to Christ Jesus.”
Romans 8:1 NLT

We don’t know what Peter did immediately after denying Jesus, but we do read that he was present with the other disciples on the Sunday morning of Christ’s resurrection. Maybe he did go off for a few hours and beat himself up, but he didn’t allow shame to keep him away.

Second, Peter doesn’t run from God. When the risen Christ appears to Peter and a group of disciples as they are fishing, Peter jumps from his boat and swims to meet Jesus (John 21:7). Many of us run away from God, like Jonah, when we should be more like Peter and run toward God after making mistakes.

My hunch is that Peter’s reconnection with other believers spoke truth and love into his life, which made him ready to come face-to-face with Jesus.

Peter’s first two choices made the last step of embracing grace possible. If we never made mistakes, we’d never need grace.

Jesus walks Peter through the repentance and forgiveness process and restores Peter (John 21:15-17). Peter felt the sting of being asked three times if he loved Jesus, but Jesus’ instructions mirrored the number of times Peter had denied Him. In the end, Peter didn’t let his past mistakes stop him from receiving the forgiveness and restoration he needed.

As you reflect on the three steps Peter took after his colossal failure, which one tends to trip you up?

  • Do you isolate yourself from others after making a mistake?
  • Do you distract yourself to avoid God?
  • Are you so committed to beating yourself up that it’s hard to grab the grace God gives?

I remember my dad looking me in the eyes and saying, “Accidents happen, Barbara. Now, you’ll be more careful.” It was a mistake, but it was also the result of pride. Gratefully, I was given forgiveness and grace anyway.

This is what God does for us as well. Life happens. We’ll make mistakes. Praise God for grace.

 

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

When the DMV Actually Made My Day

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I had been dreading this visit for months. A trip to the DMV rarely stirs joy. Strife, anxiety, and frustration? Yes. Waiting, wondering, and wishing we could run that office better ourselves seems to be the name of the game.

I’d already had an unsuccessful appointment once before, so this time I came armed with every document imaginable. To sweeten the deal, I tucked a novel into my bag, convincing myself I would turn wasted hours into reading hours.

I walked in ready for a quiet retreat into my book, but what I stepped into was pure chaos. The waiting room was jam-packed, and a confusing line twisted through the foyer. After scanning the sign’s QR code to secure my place in line, I squeezed onto the hard hallway floor with about thirty other weary souls. Unlike the chatter of the main waiting room, this space was silent except for the occasional cough, a phone buzzing, or someone muttering a frustrated question.

Before long, more people streamed through the doors. The QR code quickly became everyone’s enemy, as most had no idea how to check in. Their stress was palpable, and I realized I could help. In that moment, I let go of my dream of uninterrupted reading time and recalled one of the most well-known stories Jesus told — the Parable of the Good Samaritan.

Jesus tells of a Jewish man who was attacked by robbers and left for dead along the road to Jericho. Several religious men passed by, yet only one person stopped to help — a Samaritan, the very enemy of the Jews, and the most unlikely of heroes. He bandaged the man’s wounds, provided for his care, and showed compassion when no one else would.

It’s a story many of us could retell in our sleep, but it is worth pausing to revisit (Luke 10:25–37). Jesus paints a clear picture of who our neighbors are and ends with a charge that is as relevant today as it was then: “Go and do likewise.”

When I was researching for my Bible study, Just Open the Door: A Study on Biblical Hospitality, that simple charge changed everything for me. While I desire for all of us to swing wide our doors, that kind of hospitality doesn’t always come easy. With a “hospitality on the go” mindset, it can occur in the most ordinary and inconvenient places, basically wherever our feet take us throughout the day.

My daily conviction now asks: Who is on my Jericho Road today?

It’s easy to make excuses about why we can’t invite people into our homes, and I’ve made plenty myself. But what about when the Lord brings people right to us — along our Jericho Road? In those moments, we have a choice. Will we cross to the other side of the street, avoid eye contact in the office hallway, or ignore the gentleman who needs help at the DMV? Or will we go to meet the one in need?

They say the third time’s the charm, and it took three nudges from the Holy Spirit before I finally got up off the floor, positioned myself by the QR code sign, and began helping people. It felt awkward at first, but it was far worse to watch one person after another stumble with no idea what to do. I’d been waiting long enough to step in and meet a need.

One by one, I showed people how to use their phones to scan the code. I discovered that some elderly guests had been waiting for over an hour without ever knowing they needed to be on the digital list. I walked them to the desk, explained their situation, and helped get them squared away.

At one point, a gentleman in the hall called out, “The DMV should pay you for becoming their official greeter. You know more than the people at the desk!” The whole hallway chuckled, and I replied, “Well, I think the DMV has turned me into the ‘Queen of Forced Bonding.’ Looks like we’re all going to get to know each other today.”

And we did.

That once-cold hallway slowly sparked to life. I asked one gentleman where he lived, which prompted another woman to share memories of her grandfather’s farm nearby. As I continued asking simple questions, stories revealed diverse backgrounds  — fascinating and heartbreaking.

What struck me most was how eager people were for connection. Soon, strangers were laughing, reminiscing, sharing pieces of their lives, and yes, even bonding over mutual grievances. In that cramped, uncomfortable hallway, I saw loneliness begin to break apart. Smiles replaced sighs. Stories replaced silence. And somewhere between scanning QR codes and swapping local tales, our weary group of strangers became a little community.

It wasn’t the day I had planned. I didn’t get to read a single page of my book. But it was exactly the day the Lord had planned. Interruptions became divine appointments.

Hospitality didn’t happen around my kitchen table that afternoon — it happened in a fluorescent-lit DMV hallway. And it reminded me that the heart of biblical hospitality is about being present, noticing the people God places in our path, and extending kindness right where we are.

The Good Samaritan didn’t plan to encounter a wounded man. But he did. And he stopped. And he made room for a stranger. In the same way, we are called to open our eyes to the “Jericho Roads” we walk every day — whether that’s the DMV, the grocery store, or even the school pickup line.

So the next time you feel the nudge of the Spirit — whether it’s to speak up, lend a hand, or simply listen — don’t brush it aside. Those nudges may be the very opportunities God is giving us to “go and do likewise.”

Who is on your Jericho Road today?

 

Your Cheering Section + a Recipe for Tailgating

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With God on our side like this, how can we lose?
Romans 8:31 MSG

With football season here, many of us are cheering on our favorite teams. If you have kids who play sports, you know how much you love cheering for them! Parents cheer faithfully for their children, in everything from football games to school projects to church events. “You can do it!” and “Keep going!” we say.

Parents are the most loyal fans. God, our heavenly Father, is like that — He’s our biggest fan. He cheers us on every day as we journey through life. He cheers us on as we’re winning and cheers us on when we stumble and make mistakes. God never stops cheering for us; He is always for us, supporting us and loving us.

Psalm 56:9 (TLB) says, “This one thing I know: God is for me!” He watches over us and gives us the strength we need each day: “The eyes of the Lord search the whole earth in order to strengthen those whose hearts are fully committed to Him” (2 Chronicles 16:9 NLT).

We have others cheering us on from heaven too: the great cloud of witnesses that Hebrews 12:1 (NIV) tells us about: “Since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.” This great cloud of witnesses can also be described as “those who have gone before,” all the people of faith who are in heaven now, like those in our families who have gone on to heaven — parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles . . . those who have left us a legacy of faith. And our heroes of the faith that we read about in the Bible — Noah, Abraham, Sarah, Moses, and others—they’re an inspiration to us, having persevered their whole lives as they lived in faith (see Hebrews 11). These saints in heaven are all cheering us on.

So if you ever feel as if you’re alone in this race, or if the struggles you’re facing are too much, find comfort in the fact that while God will never leave your side, you also have a cloud of witnesses who overcame many obstacles of their own, and they are cheering your name.

Side note: On game day, if you’re watching a game from home or tailgating, you could make this Loaded Baked-Potato Dip to snack on. It’s loaded with lots of good things: sour cream, cheddar cheese, bacon, and more. Serve the dip with wavy potato chips, waffle fries, or pretzels.

Loaded Baked-Potato Dip

PREP: 10 MIN. | COOK: 0 MIN. | TOTAL TIME: 10 MIN. | SERVINGS: 8

Ingredients:

  • 2 cups (16 ounces) sour cream or light sour cream
  • 1 (1-ounce) package ranch dressing and seasoning mix
  • 2 cups (8 ounces) shredded sharp cheddar cheese, divided
  • 1/3 cup green onions, thinly sliced
  • 1/2 cup real bacon pieces or bits (from a 2.5-ounce package)
  • Optional: salt and pepper to taste and/or a dash of hot sauce
  • For garnish: remaining 1/4 cup cheddar cheese, 1/2 to 1 tablespoon each green onion slices and real bacon pieces or bits

Instructions:

  1. In a large bowl, mix the sour cream and ranch dressing mix, blending well.
  2. Stir in 1 3/4 cups of the shredded cheddar cheese, the sliced green onions, and the bacon pieces or bits. If desired, add some salt and pepper to taste, or a dash of hot sauce.
  3. Spoon dip into a serving bowl, then cover and refrigerate for an hour before serving (can also be refrigerated overnight).
  4. Before serving, garnish with remaining 1/4 cup cheddar cheese and 1/2 to 1 tablespoon each green onion slices and real bacon pieces or bits.

This beautiful new devotional cookbook, Simple Recipes for Busy Seasons, may just be our favorite new release of the year from DaySpring!

As we cycle through the seasons of our lives — enduring changes in the weather, our life stage, our activity level, and more — delicious meals can help anchor us to the present moment. This cookbook is filled with encouraging devotions that offer God’s peace and strength in the midst of chaos as well as recipes organized by season, so that even the busiest days can be filled with spiritual inspiration and enjoyable food. It includes Scriptures, quotes, and prayers alongside simple ingredients to make any crazy day into one that satisfies hunger and warms the soul.

Simple Recipes for Busy Seasons is designed for hectic moments, offering heartfelt devotions that encourage you to breathe, pause, and find peace in God’s presence, alongside quick, wholesome recipes that bring your family together without adding to your stress.

We LOVE this devotional cookbook so much, and can’t wait for it to be in your hands and kitchens! Leave a comment below and you’ll be entered to WIN* a copy – we’ll choose five winners at random.

 

*Giveaway open to US addresses only, and closes on 9/18/2025 at 11:59 pm Central.

Giving Grief Its Place — But Not the Whole Room

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This season has been one of limited bandwidth and emotional overwhelm. My fiancé and I have navigated getting engaged, planning a wedding, losing my brother to addiction, looking for new jobs, and slowly moving into the apartment that we’ll share soon. If that sounds like too much, that’s because it is. Each day feels like a minefield, and we may or may not make it across in one piece.

There are occasional miracles of laughter and hope, but there are also a whole lot of nights of fitful sleep and second-guessing the quietness that comes after a crisis.

Grief and financial stress and exhaustion are not great for morale.

As someone who is typically joyful and marked by a lightness I carry with me, I’ve been surprised to look in the mirror and often wonder who I’ve become. I have had to grieve the way this season is aging me. I don’t bounce back as quickly. I don’t let things roll off my back as easily. I don’t rush to fill up my schedule with coffee and lunch dates with friends. I feel myself sitting down more than I’m standing. I feel less shiny and fun and carefree. I dream about funerals and loss and sinking ships.

I know that these weights aren’t going to pull me down forever, but I certainly feel the ways they are dragging me under today.

I’ve been sad and angry and impatient and insecure in ways I’ve never known before. And if I’m honest? Sometimes, I don’t care what it’s doing to the people around me. I know there’s plenty of grace to go around in a time like this, but that doesn’t mean I can let my emotions have free reign in destructive ways.

To be clear, I believe there’s a place for the big emotions living in my head and heart these days. I believe that there’s nothing wrong with pulling a sweatshirt out of the dryer and feeling a knot in my throat. Plenty of times I have heard a song or been in the middle of a beautiful drive and suddenly missed my brother so sharply I could hardly breathe.

We are made to feel a full spectrum of emotions, and having feelings isn’t a bad thing!

In fact, it is good and healthy to be extra tender in hard seasons. While it may feel more like a curse than a gift, every time we cry or process negative emotions with someone, it’s actually helping us heal. We have to make our way through our hard feelings. Bottling them up or ignoring them can create more problems later. That said, letting them spill over in a reckless way can be an issue.

Here’s what I mean: Years ago, a friend shared some wise words that keep coming to mind lately. She said,  “I’ve been thinking about what it’s like to be on the receiving end of me.”

Her words were genuine and thoughtful, and they hit me right in the chest. Because while I can be a fun and enjoyable person, I have a whole lot of shortcomings. I can be selfish and unkind and impatient. And when that part of me comes out of my mouth or takes over my attitude? I’m not a joy to receive.

After my brother died this spring, at first I excused my poor behavior or attitude on the basis of grief. And maybe it was fair here and there to do so. But lately, I find myself leaning into that excuse a bit too much. I get short with my fiancé. I get impatient with strangers who cut me off in traffic or don’t move fast enough. I can feel my inner Karen come out over really small things at the store.

When I slow down at the end of a long day and unwind into the familiar rhythms of bedtime, I replay my day — and lately I’ve been met with conviction over the times I was not “slow to anger” like Scripture encourages in James 1:19: “Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to anger.”

In fact, I’ve allowed my grief to make excuses for why this passage of Scripture doesn’t apply to me. Can I be that honest?

I don’t think we set out to fall into a pattern of sin or spiritually stunting behaviors. I don’t believe we wake up one day and say, “I think I’ll be a bad friend” or “I think I’ll pick a fight with someone I love for no reason except for the fact that my anger needs some place to go.” But in vulnerable seasons, it’s all too easy to let those feelings spill into more space than they should.

It’s not always cut and dry, and I still mistake the anger of grief for the anger of a moment, but I remind myself that I can hand all of it to God.

I can come to Him and ask, “What’s it like to be on the receiving end of me?” and trust that in love, He will convict my heart. Not condemn it or fill it with shame, because that’s not part of our identity as followers of Jesus. But in love, God will bring conviction that says, “Whoa, there. Let’s be careful on this part of the path.”

And even in grief, His guidance will keep moving me forward.

 

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

What Happened to My Life, God? 

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“Can all your worries add a single moment to your life?”
Matthew 6:27 NLT

Everything seemed so bright. We had a wonderful life, complete with happy kids, good salaries, and a hopeful future. But with one crisis after another, that life faded away, leaving behind a pile of debt, unemployment, arguments, and so much anxiety.

What happened to my life, God? Did we do something wrong? Tell me what kind of magic-button prayer will get us out of this mess!

I cried every day. I begged God to rescue us from the land of uncertainty and give us back our old life.

I coped with the only strategy I knew: worrying.

I thought I could protect myself from more pain if I imagined all the worst-case scenarios in advance: What if we can’t pay this month’s bills or the medical test? What if we need a new transmission? What if our life never gets better? However, obsessing over my “what if” worries didn’t make me feel better. Instead, I felt worse!

Maybe you’re like me, faced with an uncertain season of life and stuck in the middle of hardship or heartache. Jesus understands. Jesus knew one day His closest friends would be fearful of the future and worries would overwhelm their hearts and minds. So, before His death, He made this promise: I am leaving you with a gift — peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give is a gift the world cannot give. So don’t be troubled or afraid (John 14:27 NLT).

The peace Jesus gives provides supernatural calm in the midst of chaos and hardship. It’s the kind of peace we absolutely need when we’re not sure what will happen next.

It took a few years of stressed-out days and sleepless nights for me to learn to surrender my worrying ways in favor of Jesus’s peace. Though our difficult season continued, God was faithful to remind me of His promised peace.

We can rest assured that God’s promise doesn’t have an expiration date. It never runs empty. And when our “what if” worries try to steal our calm, we are only a prayer away from unshakable faith and receiving shalom from the Prince of Peace.

by Barb Roose, as published in 100 Days of Strength in Any Struggle

100 Days of Strength in Any Struggle, will take you on a journey of learning to see God clearer and to know Him deeper in the middle of your struggles. As you experience pain, move through daily challenges, or get bogged down by anxieties big or small, you’ll learn to find Him right in the middle of it, ready to strengthen you and give you rest. 

Enjoy 100 devotions divided up into 10 key themes — all designed to give you the spiritual strength you need for any struggle you face. The devotions are paired with Scripture and journaling space so you can process with God and have a written record of how He strengthens you!

Order your copy today!

When Your Work Goes Unnoticed

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Some evenings when my husband gets home from work, I say a quick “Hi!” and then escape up to my room for a few minutes of quiet. With four children, even good days feel like long days, and usually by 6:00 p.m. I’m craving a break from hearing “Baby Shark” on Alexa, my kids asking me a thousand questions, or handing out the five-hundredth snack of the hour.

Other days, my husband walks in the door and I start listing off every single thing I did that day, sometimes coupled with why other things didn’t get done.

  • We went to the park.
  • I didn’t get a chance to do the dishes.
  • I got those forms filled out for preschool.
  • I didn’t get the laundry folded.
  • The boys already had a bath because they played in the mud . . . again.

My husband regularly asks me how my day went, but he doesn’t ask for a report on my to-do list. Yet, I still feel the need to share it. I have this innate desire to spill out every little detail of how my day went.

Why do I do this? 

However, lately I’ve realized I do this because I just want someone to notice.

Whether you’re a stay-at-home mom or a woman working in a corner office, much of what you do goes unnoticed, doesn’t it? Even if your job requires you to be on stage and ends with literal applause, people still don’t see behind the curtain. They don’t see the hours of preparation or the tears you’ve cried or the late nights spent in meetings.

It’s not like I want a big trophy or a ceremony in my honor. But, at times, I do so desperately want to feel seen. What I do on a daily basis can feel lonely and isolating and, if I’m not careful, my desire to be seen and noticed can lead to unhealthy habits — like overworking, social media addiction, or people-pleasing.

The need to be noticed isn’t all bad. We’re not meant to live in isolation — we were created to live in community and to share our lives with others. But, the truth is, it is easy to forget that what we do at home or during our workdays or even while we’re on summer vacation does, in fact, get noticed.

Hebrews 6:10 ESV says, “For God is not unjust so as to overlook your work and the love that you have shown for his name in serving the saints, as you still do.”

The writer of Hebrews calls his readers to move from an infant faith to maturity, reminding them that God sees the work they do, and that it’s evidence of the faith they have. He reminds them to keep going and, later on, calls them to remember the hope they have in what is to come and how, through faithfulness and patience, they’ll inherit what God has promised.

In the meantime, we, too, are to faithfully live and work just like the original readers of Hebrews, loving God and loving others in ways both large and small — even when no one sees.

Friends, God sees our faithfulness. He knows the ways we serve our families through menial work, how we honor our co-workers at our day jobs, when we care for those who may not be able to express their appreciation, and our kindness shown to strangers.

God sees it all.

Fruthermore, the apostle Paul tells us that, because of the resurrection of Jesus, our “labor in the Lord is not in vain” (1 Corinthians 15:58). The ways in which we show love to others, contributing to human flourishing, and the faithful work we do for God and His kingdom will not be demolished. Instead, our labor will be a part of the new creation that has already started through Christ.

So keep going — even if no one notices, even if no one sees. Because all that you do really is seen by a God who loves you and who will one day bring your faithfulness to fruition.

10 Easy Things You Can Say to Encourage Someone Today

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We accidentally got to the library eight minutes early. On the surface, this doesn’t seem like a big deal. But with three spirited boys, eight extra minutes can feel like eight hours.

At the time, my sons were seven, six, and four — the perfect ages for high curiosity and low impulse control. As we entered the small outer foyer, I realized the main library wasn’t open yet, and low-grade panic set in. My kids were not cut from the “sit still and wait patiently” kind of cloth.

Thankfully, we had a bag full of books to return. Let’s draw this out as long as possible, I thought.

Each boy excitedly took turns feeding picture books into the automated return system. They oohed and aahed as the scanner scanned each barcode and the title appeared on the nearby screen (and shoved a brother to get a better look) as the conveyor belt carried each book to the appropriate bin. Dump. Again!

When our book bag was empty, the boys slurped water from the drinking fountain, hid under the massive stairwell. My question asker asked a gazillion questions about what would happen if the concrete cracked and fell on top of them and would they for sure be crushed and die? There was a trip to the bathroom and a thorough investigation of a row of cupboards that foolishly were void of padlocks. (Yes, all in less than eight minutes.)

As the moments inched on, more library patrons joined my energetic crew in the waiting vestibule. Staring eyes weren’t in short supply.

“Be aware of others. Stay near me. Quiet voices, please,” I reminded them often.

My boys weren’t being bad — just inquisitive, antsy, talkative, active kids. And after eight minutes, their mama was exhausted. When the clock struck ten and the bell tower began to chime, the large sliding glass doors finally opened. The small crowd began filing into the sanctuary of books. Jude jumped and Elias squealed and Noah started to sprint as I reminded them again to please walk and use inside voices.

An older woman who had been waiting nearby caught my eye. “It’s going to be a long summer,” she said.

“Yeah, it is,” I replied with a weak smile and sigh.

Then her eyes brightened, and her smile warmed. “But you’re doing a great job. Thank you for being here.”

I had braced myself for a stranger’s rebuke — parenting in public can be so hard. In the little years, it made me sweat with anxiety. But instead of judgment, I was met with the kindness of simple encouragement. All I could do was whisper, Thank you. She gave me a knowing nod and entered the library as I followed my sons — my back a bit straighter, my steps a bit lighter.

A small, unexpected thank-you from a stranger. A word to make someone feel seen. Is there an easier gift of kindness to give?

So I pass on these sweet words to you: Thank you.

Thank you for changing diapers and reading stories. Thank you for going to work and still making dinner when you’re dog-tired. Thank you for cheering at swim lessons and folding laundry and answering the billionth question to quench a little person’s curiosity. Thank you for helping your neighbor and listening to your coworker. Thanks for getting to church early to set up or staying late to tear down. Thanks for mentoring that teenager. Thanks for doing your ordinary job with a smile. Thanks for putting one foot in front of the other.

Thank you for being you. No one else could fill your shoes.

A small word of encouragement can make a significant difference. Green is a great color on you. You love well. I’m impressed by how you handled that. There are limitless possibilities for how we can build up others.

Proverbs 16:24 explains the significance of our words: “Kind words are like honey — sweet to the soul and healthy for the body” (NLT).

I can’t count the times that my soul has been revived by the sweetness of someone’s words. Kind words have saved me from teetering over the edge of spiritual doubt and physical exhaustion. A timely word of encouragement has reeled me in from emotional overwhelm and mental fatigue. When I’ve spiraled into the black pit of anxiety and depression, words that remind me that I am loved as I am have made all the difference.

In honor of National Day of Encouragement, consider how you can lavish the simple kindness of encouragement on those around you.

Here are ten easy things you can say to encourage someone today:

  1. I see you.
  2. I’m proud of you.
  3. God made you beautiful.
  4. You’re amazing at what you do.
  5. I’m glad you’re here.
  6. You inspire me.
  7. I appreciate your hard work.
  8. God delights in you.
  9. You make my day brighter.
  10. I’m grateful you’re in my life.

Look for that frazzled mom in the grocery store or that shy coworker in the corner cubicle. Think of your shy neighbor or the school secretary, the crossing guard or the barista you pass every day. Stop and say, “Thank you for being here. You’re doing a great job. Your life makes mine better.”

The power of words is available, accessible, and wieldable for everyone. No one is disqualified from being an encourager.

Whether you’re a college student or a retired teacher. Whether you’ve got lots of littles hanging all over you or lots of deadlines hanging over your head. If you’re chronically ill, underemployed, or climbing the corporate ladder. If you’re happily married or happily single or going through a life-breaking divorce.

No matter who you are, where you live, or what your circumstances are in this very moment, YOU can make a difference in someone’s life, one simple, encouraging word at a time.

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

When has someone’s kind words lifted you up — and how might you pass that same gift along today?

 

The Thing You Need to Know About Mercy

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“But you are God’s chosen treasure—priests who are kings, a spiritual “nation” set apart as God’s devoted ones. He called you out of darkness to experience his marvelous light, and now he claims you as his very own. He did this so that you would broadcast his glorious wonders throughout the world. For at one time you were not God’s people, but now you are. At one time you knew nothing of God’s mercy, because you hadn’t received it yet, but now you are drenched with it!”
1 Peter 2:9-10 TPT

When I was in junior high and high school, my PE coaches would often assign captains to pick teams when we were playing games like dodgeball and soccer. I discovered it was a privilege and a curse to be the team captain because the captain was forced to make the hard choices.

Everyone in the class would line up nervously. The first captain would pick a player. Then the second captain would pick a player. Then back to the first captain. Choosing teammates required some strategy. A captain might pick the most athletic girls first if she really wanted to win the game. She might also consider choosing her friends first so she could hang out with them on the field.

I’ve always had a soft heart, so I would intentionally choose the kids I knew were going to get picked last. I hated the idea that someone would have to wait to be chosen until the very end. My heart was to show them grace and mercy, not just to build a team in the expected way.

Someone who is described as “chosen” is said to be the object of divine favor or is given a special privilege. Throughout the pages of Scripture, the word chosen is used to mean elect, examined, preferred, and selected.

In the first two chapters of Genesis, we see God choose Adam and Eve as His special creation. Everything else God speaks into existence, but God chooses to bend low and form Adam from the dust of the earth. God also knew it was not good for Adam to be alone, so the Master Sculptor chooses to fashion Eve from one of Adam’s ribs. Both man and woman are created in the image and likeness of God according to Genesis 1:26.

Adam and Eve — and all of us — are chosen to be distinct spiritual and physical beings who reflect God’s glory to the world. We have been given the privilege and task of stewarding creation well.

The opening passage from 1 Peter highlights our call as believers and recipients of God’s mercy to “broadcast his glorious wonders throughout the world.” There are many ways we can point others to His glory. Maybe it’s telling a friend or someone we meet on an airplane about how God has transformed our lives. Maybe it’s writing about God’s glory in a book or posting photos on Instagram that show His glory. Maybe it’s singing a song or composing a poem or painting a picture.

Friend, you are chosen. You are chosen to live in this era, this generation, this year with its many challenges and privileges. The story you are living today, the message you carry in your heart, the people you are leading and feeding — all of these present an opportunity to give God glory. Don’t miss it!

Dear Lord, thank You for drenching me in Your love and mercy today. I am humbled that You chose me to be Your witness in the world. Give me the creativity and courage to share the story of Your glory with others in my spheres of influence. Amen.

Written by Dorina Lazo Gilmore-Young

In our divisive and unforgiving world, we need mercy more than ever. When we extend grace toward one another despite faults, mistakes, and differences of opinion, we model the kind of long-suffering patience and love that God shows toward us. But how do you cultivate a merciful heart in the midst of a culture where everyone seems quick to judge and slow to forgive? Where do you begin?

The Create in Me a Heart of Mercy (in)courage Bible study, written by Dorina Lazo Gilmore-Young and featuring stories from your favorite (in)courage writers, will guide you in exploring the depths of God’s mercy for you.

The mercy God has shown us through Jesus is meant to flow through us to the rest of the world as a powerful witness to God’s love and forgiveness. Let God create in you a heart of mercy!