A couple of months ago, I had one of those nights where I struggled to fall asleep. Instead of immediately entering a deep REM cycle per usual, I tossed and turned, thinking of all the things that I had yet to accomplish that week. There were those homework assignments. That crucial conversation with a friend. The wonderfully plentiful dorm events. The deep cleaning projects. The gifts to be purchased. The looming job interview. As I struggled for sleep, I knew I needed to surrender all of these things to the Lord in prayer. I asked God to carry the weight of my thoughts and bring me peace. Eventually, He answered this request and blessed me with rest. 

When I awoke to a bright new day, I instantly remembered all that I had carried the night before. My shoulders sank as the weight returned. But it was in that discomfort, before I opened my eyes, that I felt Jesus laying these words upon my heart: 

Cast your burdens on me. 

This message was immediately followed by a memory of me as a little girl waiting to be picked up from elementary school. I stood at my assigned spot—square 52—carrying a backpack that was much too large and heavy for my tired body. Suddenly, my dad appeared, flashing a smile and giving me a hug. He eagerly took my bright pink backpack and swung it over his shoulder as if it was his own. My entire frame relaxed as the burden that was part of me that day suddenly became small and light on his strong shoulder. My sweet Dad then grabbed my hand and led me through the noisy crowd of impatient kids all the way to the car, ready to make the drive home together.   

In that moment, I realized the Lord was using this memory to show me that my Heavenly Father is eager to continue carrying heavy things for me, just like my dad did with my backpack all those years ago. And, just like my earthly father, He does so eagerly and with joy, pleased that I know He is someone I can always turn to. He may not leave the backpack behind or silence the noise around me, but He will always be there to walk me through it so we can reach our destination together. 

What is weighing down your backpack today? Are you feeling weary and overwhelmed by the burdens of living in a broken world? If so, Jesus invites us to surrender our burdens to Him. He offers to help free us from carrying the weight alone. No matter how ugly, how heavy, or how messy our packs may be, His capable, strong arms can hold our burden much easier than we ever could. And as He takes it from us, He will reach down and grab our hand, walking with us all the way home. He has never failed to hold my burden, and He will not fail to hold yours either. He is much better at shouldering the weight than any of us could ever be. 

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I don’t always know or understand God’s perspective on situations I face in my life. Recently, God used a dream to help remind me of this truth. While my dreams typically seem like nonsense, this one felt different. So I grabbed my prayer journal and outlined what happened: 

I am in the middle of a divided road on a median, preparing to cross. I look and see a car so far in the distance that I'm not concerned. With confidence, I stepped off the curb to begin crossing. Immediately I could feel something was wrong. My legs felt heavy and slow. I am stumbling and seem to be making no progress. I am trying so hard. How am I not making any progress?  

Beyond my confusion, I began to panic as the once-distant car drew closer to me. Now the situation has changed entirely. I am no longer progressing with my original plan. And now I am stuck, unable to help myself.   

At the very last possible moment, I find myself lifted straight in the air as the car speeds by beneath me. Then I am gently lowered back to earth and am able to continue crossing. 

This dream felt like an invitation from God to notice my tendency to rush ahead and act quickly. Sometimes I’m so confident in my own plans and vision that I forget to consult with Him before moving forward.  

We humans aren’t famous for our patience. How many times in the Bible do we see that years—centuries, even—can pass before God fulfills some of His promises? Time and again we see Him acting at just the right time to meet a need. Never too early; never too late. His timing is always working for our good, even when we can’t see the whole story. 

In my dream, I thought it was a fine time to cross the road, yet I was prevented from doing it. Of course, I found myself frustrated by my inability to make progress. But what I couldn’t see in that moment was that God had His own reasons for preventing me from reaching my goal. He needed me to wait until His sovereign hand guided me safely to where I needed to be. I don’t know why He waited until the last possible moment to intervene. Sometimes He asks us to wait longer than makes sense to us. We may never learn the reason at all. But I know He can see more than I can and we can trust that His timing is perfect and good. 

I can think of jobs that I interviewed for that seemed perfect, and when I didn’t get offered the position, I was deeply disappointed. Or when my husband and I were hunting for a home and I fell in love with one six months too early for our finances. Now I know that there were better options for me a bit further down the road. The key then—and today—is to wait on God’s perfect timing.  

We have a wise God who is all-knowing and all-seeing and exists outside of our very limited perception of time. When we don’t get the results we’re expecting, remember to trust that God’s got this handled. He may not be saying no, He may simply be saying “not yet.” We just need to wait patiently and find security in His perfect timing, trusting that He’s actively working out a good plan for us. 

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“Dad?”  

The soft voice startled me out of a very focused work time.  

This better be good, I thought, as I remembered telling my children to leave Daddy alone for a while so I could get some work done.  

“What?” my voice replied, already angry.  

“There is something wrong with the toilet,” came the reply.  

There was indeed something wrong; the toilet was clogged. My son and oldest daughter had tried solving the problem the only way they could think of...to keep flushing. And flushing. And flushing.  

The bathroom was completely flooded. The water had seeped over the floorboards into the basement, flooding the room below. Water had gone into the vents and flooded the furnace. Water was everywhere.  

Sometimes I think we give the devil “credit” for everything bad that happens in life. I don’t know if the devil is out there flooding toilets, but what I do know is that in that moment, I had a choice on how to react. I could follow the promptings of The Holy Spirit toward peace, patience, and kindness, or I could give in to my rage and scream at my kids until I was red in the face.

I chose the wrong one. 

We’ve all chosen the wrong one at some time or another, but why? Why did I give in to the rage and attempt to satisfy my flesh craving to take my anger out on someone?  

I may not be able to speak for everyone all the time ever, but I know the reason many of us give in to our flesh is because we don’t take this seriously enough. We actively resist the bigger sins like infidelity and lying, but sometimes we miss the more subtle sins that aren’t loving or reflective of who God is.  

In Paul’s letter to the Galatians, he says that the desires of our flesh are “crucified.” This is not gentle language. It’s brutal and harsh. That’s exactly what he intends. That we would take not just our sinful desires but our sinful thoughts, actions, and reactions and crucify them on the cross with Jesus. Instead of following our feelings, we would listen to prompting from the Holy Spirit. That brief moment when your mind warns you to stop before you react in a way you wish you hadn’t. That moment when wisdom tries to get your attention. That moment when you can choose to crucify the flesh and make a decision to give grace just like Jesus gave to us, even though, sometimes, it can be oh so hard to do.  

As Christians when we seek guidance from The Holy Spirit, it gives us the chance to slow down and ask God, “What do you want to say to me right now?” Give Him time and space to answer, because His ways always bring peace, joy, kindness, and forgiveness. Not just to others, but to us.  

I have grown a lot since that day when the toilet overflowed. I’ve asked forgiveness from my kids, and I told them it was wrong for me to react that way. Now when I find myself in a moment where I have two distinct choices—to respond by the flesh or respond in grace— I take a moment to pause and ask God, What do you want to say to me? Because I know His response is infinitely better than mine could ever be. 

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I am really good at worrying. 

I have one semester left of college, and I’m already thinking about what’s next. What am I going to do for a job? Where will I live? Will I have any friends after I graduate? Will I be able to provide for myself in this economy? 

In other words, I spend a lot of time looking ahead at the what-ifs rather than being present in the right now.  

But God is funny sometimes, and He recently used a pair of pink fuzzy slippers to remind me that I don’t have to figure out every step of my future. He showed me that when I trust Him with what’s ahead, I’m free to enjoy where my feet are today. 

This past year, I was a resident assistant (RA) in the dorms at my university. At the end of the year, there’s a tradition where the old RAs pass down a “legacy gift” to the incoming RAs. All year long while doing rounds, I would wear a pair of pink fuzzy slippers that became an iconic part of my aesthetics. I thought it would be funny to give the new RA a pair of her own pink fuzzy slippers so that she could continue the tradition when doing her own rounds next year.  

As I was thinking about how I could make these slippers meaningful to her, I kept hearing a voice in my head whispering, “Be where your feet are.” That kind of stopped me for a second. Was this voice an encouragement for her, or was it really meant for me? 

I started thinking about all the times this year when I worried about the future. The hours I sat up wondering what my future job would be. Worrying about projects that weren’t due for another week. Fearing that I would never get a boyfriend or get married or have kids.  

I realized I did not know how to be where my feet are. 

While the voice was clear in that moment, I kind of ignored it. In fact, it wasn’t until we got to Legacy Night when I had to tell this new RA why I was giving her a pair of pink fuzzy slippers that I really heard what God was trying to tell me.  

Be where your feet are.  

It didn’t feel like a lightning strike or anything like that, but I experienced a moment where I heard and accepted what the Holy Spirit had been putting on my heart all week.  

Be present. Enjoy what I’m giving you right now. Trust me with whatever happens next.  

Now, it’s only been a couple months since that pink fuzzy slipper moment, and I’m a slow learner. I can’t say that I’m great about letting my worries go (yet!). I still spiral almost daily into worrying about what my future will look like. However, when that happens, I remind myself that God’s got me. He’s there to take those worries away and give me peace that surpasses all understanding. I don’t have to know my five-year plan because God knows my whole life. He wants to walk alongside me through thick and thin. Through the stressful and the joyful. No matter what it is, I can be confident that He is there helping me through all of it. 

So if you’re a worrier like me, maybe slip into a pair of pink fuzzy slippers and let them remind you to be where your feet are. God isn’t asking you to map out every detail, He’s inviting you to trust Him with tomorrow so you can fully live in today. And as you take each step, fuzzy slippers or not, He’ll be right there taking every step with you. 

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Have you ever had a good coach in your life? A coach that not only knows the sport inside and out, but who also understands there is a lot more to the game than what we see on the field.  

I admit it, I am baseball Mom. My son is 15, and we are in the heart of travel baseball season. I never even liked the sport growing up, and now I watch it all the time and say phrases I never even knew existed. And yes, I am that Mom that cheers way too loud when my son has a great hit or strikes someone out with a nasty curve ball.  

My son has been on many teams over the years, but he is very excited about his current one, especially the coaches. Because these guys know what they are doing. Coaching is their full-time job. They not only run this team of 15 year olds, but they also coach at the collegiate level. They see the bigger picture; not just understanding what it takes to help athletes with their goals but also helping them move on to the next level. They know that baseball is unique in that it's based on failure. A really good batting average in the big leagues is .300, meaning that a person gets a hit only three times for every 10 times they step up to the plate! To be one of the best you have to learn how to be mentally tough and figure out how to deal with failure. That's why good coaching makes all of the difference. They aren’t just looking at how you swing a bat, run to a base, or throw a ball, but how you deal with the disappointment that’s often a part of it.  

Sometimes as parents we lose sight of the big picture and zero in on the details. We don’t understand why our kid is sitting on the bench or is lower in the batting order. We start to think, “What is the coach doing? Doesn’t he realize who my kid is?” But maybe that is exactly what the coach is really trying to figure out. How my son reacts in those moments can build character and emotional maturity. The coach is looking to see if, when my son sits on the bench, will he make it about himself and mope and complain? Or will he lift up his teammates, pick up balls hit over the fence, and be the best bench warmer there ever was? Will he want to give up when things don’t go his way, or will he hit the batting cages a little earlier and ask the coach how to improve? A good coach is looking for the player that has the mechanics and the mental fortitude to fall down and get back up again...not just for himself, but for the whole team.  

As I have been watching my son play baseball this year, God has really used it to speak to me. There is no better coach than the one who made me. Talk about someone who can see the whole picture. God has set the path for me. It could be all rainbows and sunshine all the time, but would that really help me grow?  We live in a fallen world and, like it or not, I am not perfect. Life is going to be full of failures and setbacks. I need to learn how to go to my “coach” to help me get back up again. To take trials and turn them into perseverance and maturity. God wants me to be “whole and complete and lacking nothing.” That means I am going to have to learn how to rely on His strength, understanding, and knowledge, and trust that God knows infinitely more than I do. After all, He made the playbook to begin with. He knows exactly how I need to learn and grow to become the person He created me to be. That’s a victory no matter how challenging the game might be.  

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It’s 8:25pm. My flight from Dallas to Grand Rapids just took off, and to my left I see the setting sun. The clear sky illuminated with yellows and pinks. It’s as if God took a paintbrush across the sky to create a masterpiece, and I have a front row seat. As the plane reaches its cruising altitude, the night sky begins brightening with the evening stars and city lights glowing below between the passing clouds. By the time we fly over Indianapolis, the sky has turned dark. Not just with the darkness of night, but with the threat of severe weather. Orange and yellow light appear as I watch a thunderstorm flashing in the distance. The pilot comes on and advises all of us to buckle our seat belts and to expect turbulence as we begin our descent into Grand Rapids. And, as I witness it all unfolding from seat 15A, I am struck by this simple thought: The Lord reigns above it all.  

Whether it’s the setting sun in Dallas, the stars over the plains, the storm in Indianapolis, or even my thoughts during the journey home, in a matter of three hours I watched everything go through a process of change—a reminder that the Lord is sovereign, and He has authority over every part of it. Nothing is hidden from Him. He knows all, sees all, and rules over all. Every detail is under His sovereign hand. The Bible tells us "For by Him all things were created... whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things were created through Him and for Him. And He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together" (Colossians 1:16-17). Whether beautiful or stormy, God holds all the pieces of the world together. 

How comforting is this truth? In a world that tells us we need to manage everything on our own, to be self-sufficient, and to be the authors of our own destinies, there is a God who truly can control all things. The Bible is full of examples of this. From human disobedience and rebellion to miracles and to the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, God was and is the author of it all. God is not distant or removed from the details of our lives. He is not surprised by the setting sun or the approaching storm. He’s not surprised by that diagnosis your mom is facing, the career path your kids chose, or the unexpected decision your spouse made. All of it, all the pieces of your story, are under God’s care. He’s the only one who can truly hold it all together, uniting every detail for good. Praise God for that!  

So, wherever you are on your journey—whether bright skies of joy or stormy waves of sorrow—the Lord remains the same and is ruler over everything. Be encouraged that there’s nowhere you can flee from His presence, no choice you’ve made that He doesn’t know about, and no circumstance that falls outside of His control. He is the great author of the world’s incredible story. Find peace in knowing that every step you take, every moment you experience, and every situation you face is aligned with His plan, directed by His wisdom, and shaped by His unending love. Just like what I witnessed out the window from seat 15A, He truly is creating a masterpiece, and your life is a beautiful brush stroke within it. 

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I remember the first time I prayed in front of a group of other people.  

At that point in my life, my relationship with Christ was relatively new. Only a year or two earlier I was openly resistant to religion. Now, here I was in a small group gathering with the leader asking us to take turns saying a prayer for someone out loud. 

I was terrified. 

It wasn’t that I had never prayed before. In fact, having grown up in a Christian family I had learned about prayer from an early age. Even in adulthood, long after stepping away from my childhood faith, I still found myself praying to someone…even if at the time I didn’t consider that someone Jesus.   

But pray out loud? Like in front of people? No thanks!  

Except in that moment, I was in a position where I knew I would look out of place if I didn’t pray when everyone else so easily did so. But what if I do it wrong? What if I can't find the right words? What if people think the way I pray to God is too casual or sounds silly? 

When my turn finally came, even though my mind was screaming in panic, I prayed anyway—heart pounding, hands sweating, every sentence tripping over a mess of “ums,” “ers,” and “uhs.”  

And when I was through, a silent thought crept in and whispered…who cares? 

Because I’m one hundred percent certain God doesn’t.  

Whether we're on our knees with eyes closed and hands folded, or standing at the sink doing dishes, what means most to God is that we are talking with Him in the first place. As a mom, when one of my teenagers wants to talk to me, I’m thrilled that they consider me a safe place to bring their joys and troubles to. And if they choose to do so when their friends are around, I’m truly touched that they're unashamed to let others see the closeness we share. 

The love for my kids is but a small reflection of God’s love for us, so I imagine our heavenly father is even more moved than I am when we choose to talk to Him in front of others. Not because we do so with proper eloquence or formality, but simply because He delights in seeing that we aren’t hiding our relationship with Him, even when our prayers feel clumsy or imperfect. 

Realizing that brings so much freedom! 

That first time praying openly was a few years ago now. I will admit, even today when I pray out loud I still get a little flutter of anxiety in my stomach. I’m pretty sure the “ums” and “ers” will always be part of the conversation. But you know what? I pray anyway. At work. At home. Even with a perfect stranger if the time is right. Because I know I’m approaching God with a sincere heart for His grace and mercy, not because I’m seeking admiration from others. And who knows, if someone else hears me praying in my imperfect way, it may just give them the courage to pray out loud too. And that’s a chance at discipleship I don’t want to miss. 

So, my fellow faithful fumblers, may you also find the confidence to pray just as you are, knowing God delights in every honest word. And when you notice fear trying to step in over what others might think, remember who you’re actually talking to and pray anyway! 

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Let me ask you something. What’s something good in your life that almost didn’t happen? Seriously, take a second and think about it. That job you almost didn’t apply for. That friendship or relationship you almost didn’t pursue. That move you almost didn’t make. That conversation you hesitated to have but were glad you did. Sometimes the best things in our lives are things we almost talked ourselves out of. 

I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately, because I’ll be honest with you, here's a "fun fact" about me: I almost didn’t apply for this job with WCSG! Yep, I almost talked myself out of it. I started thinking small, downplaying myself, and questioning whether I’d be a good fit. You ever do that? You forget what you’re capable of. You forget what you bring to the table. You forget how prepared you actually are. You forget what God has placed in front of you. 

I remember thinking maybe they’re looking for something or somebody else. Maybe I’m "reaching" a little with this one. Maybe this isn't the opportunity for me. And if I’m being honest, that wasn’t wisdom talking. It was fear. It was doubt. And sometimes we dress that up and call it “being realistic.” But really, it’s insecurity. If you’ve ever dealt with insecurity, you know it can be very convincing. 

Eventually, I shook off the fear and doubt. I decided to stop overthinking and take the leap of faith. So, I applied anyway. I prayed anyway. I trusted God anyway. And now? I’m living something that could have easily been one of those “would've, could've, should've” stories. And I think sometimes we miss out on what God has for us because we hesitate, overthink, and talk ourselves out of things before we even give God a chance to show us what He can do. 

That thought stays with me sometimes. What if I had talked myself out of this opportunity? How many opportunities do we miss and how many doors do we walk away from because fear gets louder than faith? The older I get, the more I realize that some of the biggest moments in life are sitting on the other side of one courageous decision. 

And no, every step of faith doesn’t guarantee instant success or a perfect outcome. But I do believe God honors obedience. I believe He can do incredible things with a willing heart that’s courageous enough to move forward, even while afraid. As the old saying goes, “you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.” 

So, if there’s something you’ve been feeling you're supposed to do but fear keeps talking you out of it, let this be your encouragement today: go for it! Apply for it. Start it. Make the call. Take the meeting. Step out on faith. Because you don’t want to spend your life wondering what could have happened if you had just tried. Don’t let fear keep you from the very thing faith is trying to lead you toward. What God has for you might be waiting on the other side of one decision. One “yes.” One moment of courage.

And personally? I don’t want to live with a bunch of “what if” stories. I want to see what happens when I trust God enough to move. 

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I was 17 years old, sweating through a Mighty Mouse T-shirt in a packed gymnasium outside Washington D.C. when I felt the Holy Spirit change my life. 

It was one of those hot, humid August afternoons on the East Coast where the air feels thick. I was at a yearly youth conference where thousands of teens gathered to hear the Word (and let’s be honest, to have some fun!). I remember the speaker talking about how the Holy Spirit gives ordinary people the courage to make a difference and boldly share the Good News of Jesus. 

Then came the invitation to respond. 

Almost in a dream, I remember walking down to pray and feeling a spiritual change in the deepest part of my soul. All the knowledge about faith learned in my home church dropped from my head into my heart. I still remember the cool breeze of the Holy Spirit entering my life. 

But what I remember most about that moment was the walk back to my small group of friends and thinking, “What's next?” 

I imagine the disciples asked the same question. After his resurrection, Jesus had been with them for 40 days until he ascended to heaven. Before leaving, Jesus told them to wait. So they waited. In fact, for 10 days they waited. I imagine they experienced moments of silence, nervous conversations, and maybe even fear about what the future might hold.  

But then Acts 2 tells us about Pentecost…when a mighty wind suddenly rushed through the house. Tongues of fire appeared over the disciples’ heads. The Holy Spirit filled them. And Peter, the same Peter who once denied even knowing Jesus, stood and began to preach. Not just to the public, but in front of the religious leaders who ordered them to stop doing so. 

Because of the Holy Spirit, fearful followers became courageous witnesses. While the disciples didn’t receive clear direction about what to do, what they did receive was the courage to take the next faithful step.  

And maybe that’s what many of us need, too.  

Sometimes we think following Jesus means having every answer before we act. But often, the Holy Spirit simply nudges us to move forward into what He has set before us. 

Looking back now, maybe that old Mighty Mouse T-shirt was more fitting than I realized (in fact, I still have one that I wear every once in awhile!). Mighty Mouse was a tiny character who showed up with unexpected strength. We, too, are pretty small on our own. But when the Holy Spirit abides in us, we receive a new spiritual strength—though we’re not always aware of it. I’m guessing the disciples probably didn’t feel powerful after that initial encounter with the Holy Spirit. I know on that hot August afternoon I didn’t really feel any mightier than I did the day before.  

To be honest, most days I still don’t. Maybe you can relate. 

But Pentecost reminds us that the Holy Spirit didn’t come simply to create a powerful moment. The Holy Spirit came to help ordinary people live differently.  

I’m now in my 50s, and I still don’t have every answer to “What’s next?” My wife Dawnette reminds me to open my hands and to have an adventure with the Holy Spirit. I’ve come to realize that life with God is much different—much greater— than what I had imagined. I’m still learning the journey is usually bigger, deeper, and more meaningful than anything I could have ever planned for myself.

But the question, What's next? I now view that with joyful anticipation.  

The words of Peter and John in Acts 4 are powerful to me. Not because I have every answer, I still have plenty of questions. Not because I’m courageous, I still have fear. But because the Holy Spirit continues to lead one faithful step at a time.  

So, what’s next for you?  

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You know what I (re)-learned about prayer recently? God isn’t reliant on my prayers. He doesn’t “need” them. And that’s a relief.  

Let me be clear—prayer is important. Really important. Jesus us tells us to pray. He gives us examples of how to pray. HE (the Son of God) spent tons of time in prayer. We need to be praying. God wants us to pray, and I believe there is power in prayer. 

Recently, I found myself wondering why I was experiencing so much stress over several situations some loved ones were going through. This stress went beyond empathy or concern. I’m talking losing sleep, trouble concentrating, and a gnawing worry in the pit of my stomach that wouldn’t go away. I had been constantly praying for these people and situations; praying that God would move in mighty ways, praying in faith for healing, praying for miracles. I was praying so much, so why was I still so stressed? 

I was mentioning this to my counselor, and she very kindly pointed out that it can be hard to exist in situations where you know everything is out of your control and there really isn’t anything you can do to fix the situation. Well, as she said this, the Holy Spirit flipped on the lightbulb in my brain.

I had been praying, but I realized that I was trying to control it. I was praying with the posture that if I DIDN’T pray, God wouldn’t move. Somehow, I had used something intended to take our eyes OFF ourselves and turned it into something which was just about me feeling like I was still in control in some small way. If I pray, then that person will experience healing. If I don’t, healing might not happen. If I text a friend to remind them I'm praying, then they will feel the Lord's presence. If I don't, they might emotionally spiral.  

Now, I don’t think we will ever really understand how prayer works until Christ returns. I know prayer is powerful, and I know that it DOES change things...but I also know that when I looked at how I had been praying, I was turning prayer into something that I had power over. As if the God of the universe who created all things and holds all things together would somehow feel He had “permission” to act once I had prayed enough times and in the right way.  

I repented for my mistake, acknowledging the privilege it is to ask the Lord to move while also finding peace in knowing He orchestrates every situation with perfect wisdom. Once I did this, that pit of worry in my stomach went away. What a reminder that I need to continue to submit myself to Him and His Word. What a relief that we serve a God who holds all things together so we don’t have to.

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I relish planning. Where my classmates scoffed at the idea of even using a planner, I was the nerdy middle schooler who couldn’t wait to purchase her own so I could control what it looked like. In college I used a planner and multiple to-do lists designated by category. Each individual class and my job as a resident advisor had their own lists.  

Not much has changed now that I’m an adult. Every year on January first I take out a fresh wall calendar and write in birthdays, anniversaries, and those pesky dentist appointments scheduled six months in advance. And these days with three active teens, we also employ multiple Google calendars to keep everyone on track. 

So, when I started my own business (God’s idea, by the way!), naturally I enrolled in a six-week class to learn how to become a successful entrepreneur. We were encouraged to envision what we wanted our businesses to look like in five or ten years and then create goals that would work toward that vision. In theory, this should work wonders. You keep your eyes on the prize and take active steps to make your dream a reality. 

So, I got to work. My business began as an Etsy shop with art downloads, eventually moving into art markets where I could meet new customers in-person. I built a company, created social media accounts with regular content, and built email marketing campaigns. I invested in art supplies, packaging materials, merchandise displays, a credit card reader… the expenses added up quickly! And I took a financial risk to advertise, expecting orders to result. 

I wish I could say that my business outgrew my basement, leading to a team of staff, a cute Hallmark-movie storefront, cards in Target, and having Oprah add them to her favorite things. But the reality is, the fruits of my efforts buried me in inventory that far exceeded the sales I anticipated.  

I limped along for another year or so before finally admitting that I couldn’t keep putting our personal savings and my energy into a business that wasn’t sustaining itself. For someone who prides herself on being a careful planner, this was devastating. How could I do everything “right” and still end up failing? And why did God even have me start this business if it wasn’t going to succeed? 

To be honest, a year after closing the business, I am still struggling with this. You might even say I am a little bit grumpy with God! How could my hard work and obedience not be rewarded with success?  

If I swallow my pride, I can admit there was a lot of good in that season of my life. Working for myself offered flexibility that benefitted my young family. My job skills were greatly expanded, which no doubt helped me land my current role as graphic designer for WCSG. And I experienced the joy of community in my classes and in my mentor relationships.   

And while it might not be on store shelves as I had hoped, I imagine that my Scripture art on thousands of greeting cards is still impacting people to this day. God’s word is powerful, and it was my honor to share it through stationery. All my excess unsold inventory was donated to churches, prison ministries, and hospice organizations. Those cards are likely still doing more good than I can imagine.    

At the end of the day, I circle back to who I know God to be. He is good. He is loving. He is all-knowing. I trust Him fully with my life and that makes obeying Him the right choice, even when the results may not be what I hoped for. He may still have plans to use this failed business in a way I cannot yet see. I am choosing to trust in His goodness and His timing in all things—even when the outcome isn’t what I planned.  

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I recently had a coworker ask me, “How would you rate your weekend on a scale of dead flower to beautiful rose bush?” I laughed, not quite knowing how to respond. But after thinking for a moment, the best answer I could give her was “wildflower.”  

Wildflowers are beautiful, vibrant, and often full of color. I felt like that accurately described my weekend, but it also represents this season of life that I’m in. I have days that are full of beautiful and fun moments with family and friends, and I feel more brightness with the change of seasons (Goodbye seasonal depression! Hello sunshine!). And yet, this season has been, well, wild. It’s been full of unexpected challenges, a filled schedule, and exhausting labor, which oftentimes, has felt in vain...like I’m putting in all this effort and yet I haven’t met the outcome I’ve been working so hard to get to. Maybe you can relate to this tension.  

I’ve been finding some comfort in Matthew 6. Jesus says, “See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin…will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith.”  

I find that comforting and convicting.  

The flowers of the field do not labor. They are not striving to become more beautiful. No one tends them or waters them, and yet they grow and bloom freely in gardens, among rocks, and through fractures in the pavement beneath our feet.  

I am just like the wildflowers, and so are you. 

I am growing in the middle of unexpected challenges, full schedules, and a season that has demanded much of me. My faith is being refined as I hit the “rocks” and “fractures” of this life and—still—I can be confident that the Lord cares for me. Each day, He clothes me with exactly what I need to face whatever comes, no matter how wild or uncertain it may feel.  

This verse reveals how little trust I sometimes have in the Lord’s provision for my life. When Jesus questions His disciples and the surrounding crowd with, “Will He not much more clothe you—you of little faith?” it feels like Jesus is speaking right to me saying, Megan, do you not trust me? Do you not have faith that I will provide, that I will care for you?  

So where does this leave me? How do I learn to trust God when I’m so often distracted by the wild world around me? At the end of Matthew 6, Jesus gives me an answer: “But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”  

So no matter what I face today or tomorrow, I am clinging to this truth. Whether life is beautiful and bright, or challenging and wild, I need to fix my eyes on Him. To abide in his presence through prayer. To be nurtured through his Word by reading Scripture. To be seeking a relationship with Him. To trust that He is tending, watering, and sustaining me just as He does for the wildflowers, clothing me with exactly what I need in this season.

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I stepped outside this past week to birds singing in the trees, a little warmth, and the April showers of rain. I see the early season white and yellow daffodils blooming. Just beyond the flowers I see my small backyard garden has survived another winter (but barely, laugh with me here!).

This is the time of year when I start feeling the itch to begin preparing the garden and start planting seeds. Tomatoes, peppers, zucchini...always zucchini. Last year I had a few brussel sprouts. This year, like every year, I’ve convinced myself that I’ll grow a 100-pound pumpkin. So far, my record is about 62 pounds.  

Then, just like every year, I realize I need to tell myself to slow down. If I plant now, the garden won’t grow. I’ve learned that timing matters just as much as the plants and the seeds do.  

Not everything that can be done now should be done now.  

I wonder if that’s sometimes where many of us find ourselves? Not just in our backyard gardens but in our lives. Are some of us anxious about work? Maybe it’s the day-to-day job we currently have, or maybe it’s about the job we don’t have yet. At home, are we having the same conversations with our children or spouses and not seeing the results we hoped for?  

The disciples learned something about this. Following the resurrection in Acts 1:3, Jesus appeared to them and many others for 40 days. Forty days of walking, talking, eating, and learning. Forty days of preparation before the next step could begin. Then, just before He ascends to Heaven, Jesus commands the disciples in Verse 4, “Do not leave Jerusalem, but wait for the gift my Father promised…” Forty days getting ready for the gift the Father promised, yet when they think the time has finally come, He tells them to wait.  

To me, this is similar to my backyard garden. I can’t wait to plant the seeds. But, if I move too early, nothing will grow. I need to be patient for the correct timing.  

This kind of waiting is hard. We often know what to do and the action steps needed to move forward, yet we can’t control when it happens. I see this in my own life. There are moments when the desire is right, but the timing is not. Often, I act and do something too soon. My recent book launch for In Their Steps has been filled with anxious expectations. Does this cover design or this cover image look better? Do I contact this person or send this social media post? Instead of being patient and waiting for God’s plan to develop, I move too fast and try to rush God’s timing. At work I stress over project delays rather than trust things to unfold at the time they are meant to. When my adult children are overwhelmed and struggling, I need to wait for God to help me know the best time to step in with a listening ear or a word of advice.  

What “backyard gardens” are you wanting to plant right now? Are there areas where you want to move forward but God isn’t responding? I’ve heard it said that “The same God who calls us to go is the same God who sometimes tells us to wait.” And perhaps with your garden, that’s exactly what He’s telling you to do. Not because He doesn’t hear the calls of your heart, but because He knows the perfect timing that will lead to growth. Trust that even in the waiting, God is at work, preparing the soil so your garden will flourish. 

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I love living in Michigan, and like most Michiganders, I’ve found a way to enjoy or make peace with every season. I do realize that our favorite pastime might be complaining about the weather, but still, most of us have a deep connection with the changing of the seasons. 

Michigan summer is, of course, what we’re all waiting for—a virtual paradise. Perfect temperatures in the mid-70s and 80s, sandy beaches, and fresh water. Walking in parks, endless hours outside, and the most important thing of all, SUNSHINE! 

The hardest part of the year for me, and I imagine maybe you, too, is March and April. We call it spring, but I think in Michigan it might need its own season: The Doldrums. The Gray Blahs. There’s no snow (usually), but nothing shows signs of life. We know the sun is out there somewhere, but  it’s usually hidden behind clouds so thick we’re not really sure it actually exists anymore.   

Even though I’ve lived most of my life here—almost 50 years of sparkling, beautiful summers—I sometimes start to wonder if the warm weather will ever come back. My mind tells me, “Look how dead everything is. It’s brown and gray, and so cold! Summer just might not happen this year.” It’s funny how easily I can begin to doubt the promise of summer's arrival based on what I see rather than what I know is true.  

The trees are bare. The grass has patches of brown. Everything is covered in dead leaves. Out of all the seasons, this can be the hardest time of year to find joy. We might have a day or two of relief with sunshine and warm weather, but the next day we’re tossed back into the cold. It rains a lot. Sports get canceled. Cute spring dresses go back in the closet.  Easter egg hunts move indoors. We long for warmth, being in nature, and seeing our neighbors outside again, but it seems like it is never going to happen. Will life really return to that joyful season? 

Just when I think I can’t take it anymore,  new life begins to appear. The first little green shoot of the crocus fights its way out of the soil, pushing past layers of dead leaves. The trees begin to bud and their color returns. The grass fills in and becomes a thick green carpet.  

Spring is real. And summer is coming!  

Sometimes our lives can feel the same way. That season of waiting. Times when things feel gray and lifeless and it’s hard to find joy.  When doubts begin to creep in because what we’re experiencing in our lives doesn’t always reflect what we know is true. Maybe you have been praying for direction on a new job and haven’t heard a clear answer yet. Or maybe you are buying a house for the first time and the offers keep falling through. Perhaps you have aging parents and fear you are falling short in how you are caring for them. We know God is there and has an answer, but we just can’t see it yet. Being patient in the waiting can be so hard. But these are the times in life that we need to remember who God is even more.   

During The Doldrums of spring I often remind myself that summer does, in fact, come. Soon I will be walking in the park on a beautiful summer day and I won’t even remember how cold it was a few short months ago. It is the same with God, His promises, and His character. These are the times that I need to draw even closer to Him. I need to lean into Him, remember His word, and trust that He will answer in His perfect timing and in the perfect way.  I can find strength in the waiting, because I know that God is still there. And He will bring summer back again, just like He has every year. 

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Remember the parable of the prodigal son? You know, the kid who basically snubs his family, grabs his inheritance, blows it, comes home thinking that he MIGHT get to be a slave in his father’s house…only to find his dad welcoming him back with open arms and a big party?

Do you also remember the older brother? The one who is mad, won’t join in the party, and wonders why HE doesn’t get rewarded for his good behavior?  

It’s easy to see how the prodigal son was enslaved by his foolish choices, but we sometimes miss the older brother facing a sin of his own. He was held captive by a “religious” heart of law keeping. The prodigal accepts the feast and enjoys the love and freedom his Father has given him, but the older brother doesn’t recognize that he had this love and freedom all along.   

My testimony is a lot like the brother in the prodigal story.  

Growing up in West Michigan to a mom and dad who both worked in ministry, I was surrounded by the Gospel from the time I came out of the womb. Early on in my youth it seemed logical that if Jesus is who He says He is, then He’s the only one who can save me if I do the right thing and follow the rules. So follow the rules I did. 

However, for many of us, college is a soft launch into the real world with a little more freedom, making more decisions, and finding your own way. My college experience was no different. I still loved Jesus and had some wonderful Christian friends, but I also started to get a taste of making MY own choices. Were all these “rules” of faith something I actually believed in? Eh, maybe some of them.  

Then, I woke up...or maybe I should say, the Lord woke me up. Right around the time I graduated college, former high school mentors of mine—a married couple who poured into me spiritually and relationally—lost their child at full-term. I was heartbroken. As I read their updates on social media, I watched as they shared verses from the psalms and how they were being encouraged and upheld by the body of Christ.   

Their trust in God through such tragedy made me realize they had something I didn’t. There was NO WAY I would be able to say those things if I went through that experience. I was supposed to be a Christian, but their reaction to this loss was so different than what mine would be. What was their faith based on that mine wasn’t? Thankfully in His grace, God would gently begin to show me. 

After moving back home and attending a local church, God began to help me see the foundation of true faith. I realized I wasn’t all that unlike the older brother in the prodigal son story. Like him, I was so busy being “religious” and checking what I thought were the right boxes that I was missing the freedom I already had through Jesus. 

It was then that I understood that God’s word was not about what we must do to earn a relationship with Him, but a story about how far Jesus would go to be in relationship with us. I realized that the Gospel isn’t about a to-do list. It isn’t about doing good things, so I get good things. In fact, believing we need to follow a set of religious “rules” can trap us just as much as the world’s temptations do. My rule-keeping and striving to accomplish things didn’t get me any closer to perfection. It didn't earn me more points with Jesus. And it certainly didn’t lead to freedom and salvation.   

So, when we find ourselves trying to earn God’s love through the things we do, may we remember that the pressure to perform can bind us just as tightly as the things that lead us astray. Everything we do—both good and bad—needs to be given to Jesus. Because whether you are the prodigal or the brother who stayed, the Father welcomes all His children home with open arms. 

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Every year, we host an Easter egg hunt at the house for the family. What started when the kids were just toddlers continues now into adulthood. In fact, there are now two Easter egg hunts, one for the kids and one for the “kids at heart.”  

Some years in West Michigan, the daffodils are blooming. Other years there is still ice and snow on the ground. Either way, the tradition is the same. Plastic eggs filled with jelly beans (my favorite!), chocolate kisses, pennies, maybe a dollar bill in some. The grand prize in our home is a special golden egg for the adult hunt, usually with a bit more than one dollar hidden inside. 

But a few years ago, I changed things up. 

I sent the adults into the backyard but kept the golden egg in my pocket. They spread out quickly, checking the fence line, under the bushes, in the nooks and crannies of the porch—focused and certain that the prize had to be hidden someplace tough. 

After a few minutes, I dropped the golden egg right in the middle of the yard in plain sight. No one saw it. 

After a few minutes, my seven-year old grandson Louis couldn’t hold in his excitement. “Guys, guys! The golden egg is right there!” he said pointing to the egg. The hunt now over, we all had a good laugh.   

I’ve been thinking about that moment as I celebrate Easter this year. The egg was not hard to find; it was in plain sight. Yet, everyone missed it because they were convinced they knew where it should be.  

In John 20, Mary Magdalene stands outside the empty tomb, grieving and crying. Jesus stands right next to her, and she does not recognize him. Mary isn’t distracted or too far away, she just did not expect to see him show up like that. 

I wonder how often we do the same thing with Jesus in our lives? How often, in the busyness and routine of our day-to-day do we miss Him? We look for Jesus in the big, life-changing moments. Meanwhile, His presence shows up in the quiet places—not hidden, just unexpected moments of grace and peace, often in plain sight.

This season is stretching me. I’m quickly wrapping up a school year while continuing to walk with my adult children through some really tough situations. I’m feeling the tears and the anxiety in my own life. These are the moments that bring me to my knees in prayer. Yet, Jesus is showing up in meaningful ways through other areas of my life. For example, soon I’ll be watching my students walk across the stage at graduation—some of whom almost dropped out. Through their journeys, I see God’s faithfulness in how they’ve overcome those earlier challenges.

I see Jesus through a recent interaction with my son. He sent me a panicked text in ALL CAPS about his schedule for next semester. But when we talked later, there was a calm steadiness in his voice as he made a decision and took his next steps—revealing evidence of God's continued formation in his life.

And I see Jesus on Wednesday mornings when I sit with a group of men who show up in unexpected ways to study Scripture and pray, reminding me that we can carry each other’s burdens and look to the Lord for hope.

So, this week look closer for the “egg” sitting right in front of you. Chances are, it’s not hidden in some faraway place but right there in plain sight. Because Jesus often shows up where we least think to look. We simply need to slow down, be open, and see how Jesus shows up again and again and again. 

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“Can we pray for you?” 

This is the question a group of women I didn’t know approached me with that day.  

It was August 13, 2021, and I had organized a rally in the community. This was out of character for me. Until then, I was simply a stay-at-home mom, content with a quiet life focused on raising my kids. Public advocacy was not something on my bucket list. Up until that point the only faith I held was that, if there was a God, he didn’t involve himself with us. It was up to humanity to make the world a better place, and the best way to do that was to simply be kind to one another and not impose our personal preferences on anyone else. 

But something about that time caused my worldview to shift. Things I once believed were right suddenly felt wrong. I found myself challenging my own convictions and beginning to agree with people I formerly opposed. I began to recognize a brokenness I’d never noticed before. And I felt compelled to gather the community together to show that many shared the same concerns I did.  

Yet, while the lens with which I began to view the world started to change, my view of God did not. So, when this group of women approached me to ask, “Can we pray for you?” I found myself immediately in a predicament. Do I tell them that even though we may agree on some things, that doesn’t mean I’m a holy roller like them? Do I tell them I don’t really believe prayer works? That we really can’t be sure God even exists?  

I didn’t end up saying any of those things (out loud anyway!) but instead chose the smoother path of saying, “Sure.” After all, these ladies kindly came to my rally, and I didn’t want to be rude. But I’d be lying if I said I accepted without a very discreet eye roll. 

The group of women then put their hands on me and began to pray out loud (oh no, laying of hands, even more awkward!). I don’t remember what they said, but what I do remember is this: I felt SOMETHING in that moment. I don’t know how to explain it…it was an actual physical feeling inside my body. After they walked away, I clearly remember thinking, “Wow, that was powerful.” This reaction caught me off guard. I didn’t expect to feel so moved.  

However, after that day I didn’t think more about it and life went on. But here’s the crazy thing: shortly after that time I began to find myself drawing closer to God. I didn’t have an overnight conversion, and I can’t pinpoint a specific moment when I finally said “yes” to Jesus. But what I do know is that today, I’m on fire for the Lord and am committed to keeping Christ at the center of everything I do.  

When I look back at that time, I can’t help but wonder, was it the Holy Spirit entering my life in that moment of prayer? I don’t know. Maybe I never will. But what I do know is that my perspective on God changed dramatically shortly after that encounter with those ladies. I wish I knew who they were so I could thank them, because their boldness in praying for me may very well have changed the trajectory of my faith. These perfect strangers will forever hold a place in my personal testimony. 

Have you ever asked someone, "Can I pray for you?" or has someone asked this question of you? Don’t underestimate the power of this simple request. Prayer can and does make a difference, even though you may never see it. You never know when God might work through you to touch a heart, change a life, or spark a faith that adds a new member to God’s Kingdom. Be brave enough to ask, and humble enough to receive, because sometimes that simple invitation to pray can truly have an impact on someone. One that lasts for eternity.  

It certainly did for me. And I will never forget it. 

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“I’m tired.” 

It’s a standard response to the friendly “How are you?” we hear from friends and acquaintances. As believers, we know we have work created just for us. Yet I don’t believe the same God who established the Sabbath intended for us to move through life in a constant state of exhaustion. 

There’s no end to the ways we can spend our time. Every person we love and every relationship we invest in requires something from us. Every community we’re part of—church, school, neighborhood, workplace—depends, at least in part, on our willingness to show up and serve. And that’s before we even consider the endless stream of entertainment available at our fingertips. 

I’ve found myself in seasons of burnout and resentment when I overcommit. I genuinely want to help, and if I’m honest, I often feel honored to be asked. Saying “yes” comes naturally. But every “yes” carries a hidden “no.” Have I said “no” to time with Jesus? Have I neglected my physical or mental health? Have my commitments crowded out any hope for true rest? 

I was well established in my career, marriage, and parenthood before I seriously considered observing Sabbath. But as my life has grown fuller, I’ve come to see how essential it is to intentionally set aside time for rest. 

God, in His wisdom, gave us the Sabbath not only as a gift of rest, but as an invitation to pause, to trust, and to be renewed in Him. While many Christians observe Sabbath on Sunday, it’s less about the specific day and more about the practice itself. What matters is setting aside intentional time each week that is truly restful (and no, tackling your to-do list doesn’t count!). 

What feels restful will look different for each person. Someone who works with their hands all week may not find yard work refreshing, while someone in a desk job might. For me, stepping away from the noise, especially the pull of constant entertainment or the internet, has become an important part of Sabbath rest. 

If this practice is new to you, start small and build toward a full 24 hours. Don’t get caught up in the rules you may have learned growing up. Instead, ask what rhythms bring joy, peace, and true renewal. When opportunities come your way, give yourself space before responding. A simple “Let me pray about it” or “I’ll get back to you” can help you choose wisely instead of reacting quickly. 

Protecting a rhythm of rest is vital for your physical and emotional well-being. But even more than that, Sabbath is an invitation to draw near to God. When we lay down our work, we remember that everything doesn’t depend on us. We make space to delight in His goodness, to notice His presence, and to receive what only He can give. And in that space, we don’t just recover; we are restored. 

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Right now, I am studying the book of Acts, where Paul walks the narrow road toward Christ, experiencing suffering, hardship, imprisonment, and persecution along the way. A Roman citizen and former persecutor himself, Paul’s miraculous conversion to Christianity brings trouble from both religious and governing authorities—so much so that he is taken to a secure place until he can stand trial for the accusations he faces from Jewish leaders. As Paul sits in wait, the Lord appears. It’s here, in this moment, that I find a great deal of encouragement for all of us.

In this time of waiting, the Lord stood near and spoke to Paul. What a powerful image. In the middle of noise and uncertainty, God’s presence was not distant or distracted. It was personal, steady, and near. What a beautiful picture of comfort, peace, and protection.  

And that is what makes this moment in Acts so deeply relevant for us. The Lord who stood beside Paul in the barracks, strengthening him for what lay ahead, is the same Lord who meets us in our stories. Whatever you may be facing today, whether that’s excitement for the day ahead or dread, take courage and continue moving forward with faith and obedience. I know I'm preaching to the choir here; my own heart has often needed this reminder. As family, friends, and members of my community share difficult, sorrowful, and even joyful news, I find myself wrestling; wrestling with the weight of it all, trying to reconcile the majesty and goodness of God with the suffering and brokenness of this world. And it is here, in this tension, that this passage in Acts has been speaking so tenderly and graciously to me. 

I serve the same God that Paul did, and that same God is encouraging me, stepping into my own brokenness, and asking me to trust Him in what He’s called me to. This God who stands in hardship, stands in the waiting, stands near to all of us. He calls us to continue on the narrow road, to take courage, and to move in obedience closer to Him and what He’s called us to. 

So, if life feels heavy and burdensome—maybe you’re facing a broken relationship, medical test results, or struggling to just get dinner on the table—remember that the Lord stands near and He is with you. And in the moments when you feel joyful and full of gratitude, keep moving forward in courage, pursuing what He’s called you to, and soak up His comfort, peace, and protection that can only come from being in relationship with Jesus.

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I don’t know what it is about certain foods, but often the green ones tend to find their way in between my teeth. Before I know it, I have  been talking to people and smiling all day with a massive piece of broccoli stuck in between the most prominent parts of my grill. That is why, I believe it is very important for everyone to have a “broccoli checker.” 

This is a trusted friend who honestly and lovingly (and discretely!) tells you like it is when they see you’ve got food in your teeth (or any other unsightly thing going on in your appearance). You must invite the person first. Choose wisely. You’ve invited them in to tell you when they see the thing that you cannot see. Why? Not to judge you, not to make you feel less than, by any means, but to keep you from unnecessary embarrassment. I suppose this is also called an accountability partner, but broccoli checker is funnier. 

Now, let’s take this a step further. God, our creator, knows everything about us. He knows our thoughts. He knows the root of our anxiety. He knows why we feel bitterness, anger, resentment, hostility...all of it. He GETS us! He sees the deepest part of ourselves that we cannot see. So, it just makes sense to ask HIM if there is any “broccoli in our teeth.” In other words, anything offensive that everyone else can see that we cannot. He is our safe place. He will tell us the truth with love and grace…and He does that for the SAME reason that we would want our trusted friend to tell us when we are “lookin’ a fool”! Not to judge, not to belittle, but to keep us from ridicule and shame and to lead us to a place of freedom…yes, a lot more freedom than broccoli jammed between your pearly whites. 

Be brave today and ask him. Ask him to search your heart to make sure it’s clean and “broccoli free.” It’s a bit like standing on a scale after a holiday weekend, but truly it is the best way to begin your journey to freedom…yes, more than freedom from a smile full of greens, but freedom to be exactly who He has created you to be. 

I remember several times as a child going to summer church camp. The camp was named after a lake on the property, so most of the activities centered around it. But, to participate in all of the fun water activities, you had to pass a swim test. It was pretty straight forward—tread water for a certain amount of time, swim a lap—no big deal. But if you wanted to do the more exciting activities like the water slide or the diving boards, the test required you to jump off the high dive (with the additional bonus of earning a really cool bracelet that let everyone at camp know that you were not a wuss. I like to think of it as positive peer pressure!).  

I had never taken the big jump before, and it scared the living daylights out of me. However, I found myself climbing those fateful steps all the way to the top. Now I knew that in reality the high dive wasn’t dangerous. The camp had made sure that there were no rocks or logs under the water, it was plenty deep, and they had a lifeguard at the top to make sure I waited to jump at the right time. So, when I put my foot on the first ladder rung I felt in charge. “It’s not that high, I’m jumping in feet first, it will be no big deal!” But, the further up I went, the more scared and anxious I became. Fear began to creep in; "Why am I doing this? This is so much higher than I thought it was! I might really hurt myself. How long am I going to be falling for?” 

As I stepped off the ladder and onto the platform, my heart was pounding out of my chest. Everything inside me wanted to turn around and go back down. I thought for sure I would probably be the first casualty of the high dive and my tragic demise would become fireside fodder for years to come. But then I heard the encouraging voice of the life guard, “ You can do this! You are brave! Just think about all of the fun stuff you are going to be able to do this week because you took the leap!” It was just what I needed to hear. I trusted the lifeguard. After all, he had seen plenty of other nervous kids jump off and survive. His voice gave me the courage to take a deep breath, plug my nose, and take the leap.  

Honestly, it was scary, but it was also exhilarating and I didn’t just survive, it opened up the a door to all the other fun activities that I was able to do! Plus, I showed my friends coming up the ladder behind me that they could do it too. 

There are times in my adult life when I still feel the “high dive” moment. The anxiety that comes up when I know God is prompting me to do something, but it makes me feel uncomfortable, nervous, or stressed. My thoughts run wild with all of the reasons that I should get off the platform and get somewhere that is safe and comfortable. But then I remind myself to listen for God’s voice, because I know I can fully trust Him and His Word.  

Like when God was telling me to move on to a different job. Scary and unknown at the time, but after taking a leap of faith I had so much peace realizing the new job was just what I needed. Or the hard conversation that needed to be had. I could think of a million reasons not to have it, but then that still small voice of the Holy Spirit broke through, whispering, “I know this seems scary, and you are worried about what the other person will say, but you know in the long run if you trust me and have faith things will be so much better.” And you know what? Things were better, just as He said. 

The Good News of God’s Word is that He is true, He is trustworthy, and he makes things that seem impossible to me, possible. The same is true for you, too. When we allow ourselves to be led by God’s prompting and strength, we can do hard things because we “can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”  

So if you are struggling with your own "high dive" situation, take a deep breath, plug your nose, and take the leap. You never know what exciting things God may have in store for you! 

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As believers it can be frustrating when people say that science doesn’t show evidence for God. In fact, some believe that science and God are incompatible all together.  

But are they? 

The Oxford Dictionary defines science as, “The systematic study of the structure and behavior of the physical and natural world through observation, experimentation, and the testing of theories against the evidence obtained.” 

This definition feels a bit…clunky (at least to me!), so I'll take a shot at rephrasing in a way that is a little easier to follow. In very basic terms, science uses a process of carefully repeated experiments to see if the same outcome occurs each time. If it does, then scientists come up with a conclusion or theory based on that consistent outcome. The formal name of this process is the “scientific method.” 

But here’s the thing. While the scientific method has yet to provide any physical evidence that God exists, proof of God can be found in the scientific method itself.  

Wait, what?  

Hear me out.  

See, scientists recognize that natural patterns occur, and this is why they can count on controlled experiments to reveal what those patterns are. In fact, even without the scientific method regular people like you and me can still see predictable outcomes all over the place.  

For example, we know that when we are hungry, our stomachs begin to hurt so when we eat something (ideally pizza or nachos, but food in general will suffice!), that ache goes away and we feel better. Because we’ve experienced this same cycle over and over again, we know that eating is the solution for silencing our rumbling tummies. 

We know that every morning we can count on the sunrise at a precise time, and we also know that the sun will set at a precise time as well.  

We even know that when we leave our cereal sitting in a bowl of milk too long it becomes mushy (which I love! Just me?!).  

The point is, what are the chances that natural, predictable patterns happen by random chance? If I had a bag of Scrabble tiles and dumped them on the table, what is the likelihood that they would land in a way that spelled out “You rock!"? I suppose it could happen once, but EVERY time I dumped them out? No way. Someone would intentionally have to put them in that specific arrangement. 

Do you see where I’m going? Science’s entire method of fact-finding relies on identifying predictable patterns, yet it cannot explain why the patterns exist in the first place. In fact, to determine what causes predictable patterns, scientists would have to depend on predictable patterns to find the answer, leading us back to the original question about what causes predictable patterns to begin with (and around and around we go)!  

In other words, even science must acknowledge that the same outcome occurring not just repeatedly but predictably at random is pretty much impossible. Something must be making it all happen.  

Or as we know, someone.  

That’s something the scientific method will never be able to tell us, but the Bible already has. Evidence of God is all around us, all the time. Science can show us how things happen, but many times it can’t tell us why they happen. That’s where faith steps in. God’s fingerprints are woven into everything we see, from sunrise and sunsets to tummy grumbles and mushy cereal. Recognizing that isn’t a rejection of science—it’s seeing science through the lens of a Creator who is consistent, reliable, and good.

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One of my favorite stories in the Bible is Jesus walking on the water. But what strikes me most about Matthew 14 isn't Jesus walking on water—it's Peter sinking, and what happens next that helps us walk in faith. 

After Jesus feeds the 5,000, he sends the disciples off in a boat. In the middle of the night, a storm rages on the Sea of Galilee. The disciples struggle to stay afloat in the chaos. I imagine the rough seas, the rain, the wind blowing the sails. 

I see similar storms in my own life. Right now, I'm working through decisions my adult children are making that I don't always agree with. Work and snow days are causing chaos. My social media feed is post after post of people fighting. My extended family and I are on different sides of some issues. The really cold days and cloudy skies are NOT helping. The storms seem to be all around. 

But then out of the chaos, Jesus appears. Peter calls out, and Jesus invites Peter to step out of the boat and walk toward him...on the water. Peter takes one step, then another, and with his eyes on Jesus, he begins to walk on water. 

I've had these experiences of complete trust, too. Like when I have a really good conversation with my son or I get to sleep in on a snow day. Times when projects and plans are coming together. Like Peter, in those moments I feel like I'm "walking on the water.” 

Then—a drop of rain hits Peter. Then another. Peter takes his eyes off Jesus and begins to sink. Jesus reaches out his hand and catches him. Immediately. 

Not after a lecture. Not after Peter proves he's learned his lesson. The moment Peter cries out "Lord, save me!"—Jesus is there, but asks, “Why did you doubt?” 

Jesus asks Peter this question, and honestly, I wonder about it too. Why did Peter doubt? He'd just been walking on water! He'd seen Jesus calm storms, feed thousands, heal the sick. 

But here's what I'm learning: we are all like Peter, aren’t we? Doubt doesn't come from lack of evidence. It comes when we take our eyes off Jesus and look at the storms around us instead. But here’s the good news; Jesus doesn't require perfect faith. He reaches out immediately when our faith falters. 

I'm on my knees every day about my adult children. I'm focused on Christ, praying about the steps they're taking. But then I take my eyes off Jesus and begin to doubt. I look around and feel the raindrops and see the storms, and I get distracted. Can you relate?  

The question isn't whether we'll doubt—Peter doubted, and he was walking on water with Jesus right in front of him. The question is: will we cry out when we do? 

Jesus doesn't need you to have great faith. He can work with little faith. He can work with sinking-and-scared faith. What he wants is for you to keep your eyes on him, and when you can't, to cry out for help. 

Right now, whatever storm you're in—Jesus is reaching out his hand. He's not waiting for you to have it all figured out. He's reaching out now. Immediately. 

The only question is: will you reach back? 

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I am an extremely auditory person, meaning my brain seems to process what I hear above anything else. Growing up in school the best way for me to remember something was to hear it. One of my first college professors made the mistake of telling the class that the exam questions would come from the book. So of course, most of the students stopped attending class, but I was always there. She told me one day how grateful she was that I showed up, but for me it was a matter of necessity. I knew I would remember the material if I heard her lectures versus just reading the book.  

On the flip side of learning by hearing, this also means that I am very vocal (aka: I talk…A LOT!). I process my thoughts best when I am talking them through…out loud. I talk to myself when I'm writing (yes, I talked while writing this blog), studying for a test, processing complex budget issues, thinking about what to make for dinner…EVERYTHING. I am the weird lady you see walking down the street talking to herself. Something my kids remind me of often.  

In other words, after this very wordy explanation, being “quick to listen and slow to speak” isn’t exactly my strong suit.  

When I hear something I disagree with, my brain and mouth immediately spring into action, building my argument before the other person is even done talking. Even if my friend is telling a great story, words start spilling out of my mouth describing how the “the same thing just happened to me!” And I’m pretty sure my husband needs my help finishing his stories and sometimes even sentences (he really loves that). 

Apparently, my motto is “speak now, listen later,” but as my pastor used to say, “If God and I disagree, I better change my answer.” 

At this point in my 40-something year journey, I have been learning the hard lessons of what meaningful connection is. What it means to help another person feel seen, heard, and cared for. To learn how to close my mouth long enough to hear their side of the story and not just assume it. We all know what happens when we assume.  

Being quick to listen means I want to hear where you are coming from, that I want to hear the intention of your heart and promising that I am not going to interrupt you with my version of how the blanks should be filled in. Nine times out of 10, my version will be wrong anyway. It is an action of knowing, understanding, and truly connecting with another person.  Being slow to speak means that I am not immediately trying to justify my thoughts and feelings so I can save face, prove to everyone how smart I am, or that my story is the funniest thing anyone has ever heard. It is a humbleness of heart to put my thoughts second so someone else can be first for a change.  

Holding my tongue and truly listening are especially important when it comes to my “human anger.” Nothing gets me talking louder and faster than when I perceive that I have been disrespected or ignored (just ask my kids when they don’t empty the dishwasher...I’m a work in progress!). But perception is a tricky thing, and it can really get me in trouble…there I go filling in the blanks again.  

After all, Satan really wants me to think the worst of people, to misread intentions, and to accuse them of thoughts they never even had. I can almost hear the whisper in my ear, “You know they did that to annoy you. They just don’t even care.” His goal is the great disconnect, from God and each other. Just like Eve, he wants me to believe the lie that God does not have my best interest at heart and neither does anyone else.  

But what if I was slow to speak? What if I actually gave myself the time to reflect on why this thing that was done or said made me so angry, and in turn took that to God and talked to him about it? What if I was quick to listen to His voice and connect with His true heart of love and wisdom? My guess is that when it was my turn to talk, it would come out in a different way. That I would seek truth and perspective and not just to prove my point. That my words would “be good and helpful, and an encouragement to those who heard them” (Ephesians 4:29). And if an unjust act against me was truly made, I could confront it in a way that was seasoned with grace and the Holy Spirit and not from my own flesh.  

At the end of the day, it’s ok that I talk a lot. After all, that’s how God made me. But if I can learn to listen more, especially to God’s voice, when I do speak it will bring life. This walk with Christ is a daily journey of transformation and dying to my old self. But I am learning to change my answer because I know that God’s way is always right. 

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Imagine being in prison. Day in, day out, in chains. Day after day, month after month, year after year feeling that weight pull on your wrists, your ankles, and around your waist. Sure, after awhile you’d grow stronger so the chains don’t feel as heavy, and you might grow used to it. Yet, they continue to be there, holding you in place, keeping you from going where you want to go and always pulling you back to where they are fixed.  

I’ve never been to prison, but I have worn chains. Chains not of steel or iron but made of an addiction to alcohol. Those chains anchored me to a bottle the way a prisoner is anchored to the walls of their cell. I couldn’t leave. I had been a drinker my entire adult life, and it’s how people knew me. It may sound absurd, but back then I was afraid of who I would be if I ever did manage to quit. Who would I hang out with? Where would I go? What would I do for fun?  

You see, back then I thought drinking was my identity. That I couldn’t be myself without it.  

Enter Jesus: The Chain Breaker.  

In September of 2019, I went to church with open eyes and an open heart for the first time. Through discipleship with mentors, reading my Bible, and a lot of prayer I started to understand what Christians mean when they say, “Jesus saves.” It's not just a statement about eternity but about his saving grace for our lives, right here and right now.  

My relationship with Jesus taught me that HE makes my identity. He offered to break the chains that tied me to a bottle of whiskey, and he helped me become the person he knit me together to be. Jesus showed me that I, like all his children, had many spiritual gifts that he would use. But there was a catch…I couldn’t put the chains he had broken back on.  

We’re all like that, aren’t we? Jesus frees us, breaks the chains that make us slaves to temptation and addiction, but we still have such a hard time keeping them off. Sometimes we miss the weight we were so used to carrying that we try to pick them up again. But, the thing is, once those chains are broken, we are given a new identity with Jesus, and he has permanently removed those chains through his finished work on the cross. They are replaced by The Holy Spirit who empowers us to leave those chains behind and allow our faith to be reflected through the new lives we live.  

Maybe it’s not alcohol for you, maybe it’s something else; binging on Netflix, doom scrolling on social media, shopping without limits, or some other temptation/addiction. No matter what it is, Jesus will set you free if you put your faith in him. Simply focus on him, focus on his word, and let him show you how he can use the gifts he’s given you. Step into the new creation he made you to be. Because of him, the chains are broken...not temporarily or conditionally, but forever! Walk forward in the freedom he has given you trusting that the same power that broke those chains is the same power that will keep you free.

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Many of us get a glimpse of this on Sunday mornings in church whenever we gather in pews and worship alongside fellow believers. For an hour, maybe two, we have the opportunity to immerse ourselves in worship and praise to the Lord. But what about on Monday morning in our homes? Do you find yourself shouting for joy to the Lord and singing praises to the Almighty God? How about in the 9 to 5 in your workplace? Or on Friday night when the week is over and you're tired and worn out?

I can admit that often I get stuck in the mundane routine of life where I’m not proactively practicing what it looks like to praise the glorious name of Jesus. I have found that when things are going well, when I’m happy and healthy, when my family is happy and healthy, taking the time to praise and worship God is not something on the forefront of my mind. However, the minute things get hard, I find myself on my knees crying out to the Lord and worshipping him wholeheartedly. Can you relate to this feeling? 

I have also been in seasons full of rejoicing, celebration, and living in answered prayers, where praise and worship come easy because life is so good! But in a moment, grief, loneliness, and heartache appear and suddenly the praise and worship fade from my lips. Have you found yourself here?

Wherever you are on this spectrum, know that you are in good company. The people of God knew these feelings all too well. The Israelites knew these feelings all too well. David, the author of many of the psalms, knew these feelings all too well. 

Psalm 66 is truly beautiful. If you can, take the time to read the whole Psalm. In Psalm 66:10-12, 20 the writer says, “For you, God, tested us; you refined us like silver. You brought us into prison and laid burdens on our backs. You let people ride over our heads; we went through fire and water, but you brought us to a place of abundance [...] Praise be to God, who has not rejected my prayer or withheld his love from me!”

The people of God throughout history have been through times of weeping and mourning as well as times of rejoicing. One thing that we can learn from them is that the Lord always invites us to worship Him in every season, in every feeling, and we are welcome to bring it to Him. He is with us through it all. We serve a God who tests us, refines us, and brings us through valleys and mountaintops to a beautiful place. The God we serve does not withhold his love from us and He is worthy of all our praise no matter what we face. 

So whatever season you are in, find ways to glorify the Lord, to shout his praise, and to take comfort in knowing there is something hopeful and holy in our future where one day we will join the angels, the elders, and the heavenly creatures singing his praises “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).

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Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.—Philippians 3:10-14  

My youngest is starting to learn animal sounds. You know, “What does a dog say?” Woof. “What does a cat say?” Meow. She gets it right about half the time. Sometimes she just laughs back at us. You know what though? I don’t ever get mad at her for trying. I’m not disappointed that she can’t perfectly mimic the sound of a dog. I’m just thrilled she’s trying. I LOVE that I get to teach her, and I know she is growing, learning, and taking it all in.  

If I’m honest, we’re all kind of like my daughter; constantly working to perfect areas we want to get better at. I mean, I feel like I could fill an entire notebook with things I need to do to be a better wife, mom, co-worker, and friend. I could fill 100 notebooks with areas I would like to grow in my walk with Jesus! But sometimes, I forget that it can take time and a lot of mistakes for that growth to take place. 

Philippians 3:10-14 is my “life verse.” My centering point. My mission. When things feel crazy and I have no idea where I’m going, I look back on these verses to check myself. Am I living in a way that is in pursuit of really “knowing the power” of Christ? To “take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me?” 

I have always read this as a state of constant straining towards perfection (I mean, “straining toward what is ahead” is even in the passage!). But God’s Word doesn’t return empty, and His Spirit is at work in me. So, when I read the passage, THIS time you know what I see? My daughter, fumbling through and incorrectly responding that a horse says “argghaaa.” I see my heavenly Father seeing me just as I see her; recognizing my desire to learn and grow and giving me gentle correction when I stumble along the way. I see Him looking at me as a beloved child, not as someone who isn’t doing enough, hasn’t accomplished enough, or isn’t getting there fast enough. Just as I don’t view my daughter this way, my Father doesn’t view His children this way either. 

So maybe instead of being frustrated that I haven’t mastered being a mom, or a wife, or the “ideal Christian” (which, let’s be real...we are all sinners saved by grace being conformed into Christ’s likeness by HIS work, not ours), I’m going to return to this passage in Philippians. And when I find myself worried that God’s upset with my slow progress, I will remember that while He is always watching, He’s not frustrated that I haven’t mastered it yet. He is pleased—pleased that I’m trying to learn from Him, pleased that I’m trying to take it all in, pleased that I want to grow. Because when I trust in my Father’s love for me, it is then that I will let go of the straining toward perfection and surrender to the process of becoming who I already am in Christ. 

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Are you ever frustrated with your own bad habits and sin patterns? Have you ever thought you finally had something under control, only to lapse once more?  

I am firmly in middle age, and sometimes I can’t believe I am still circling around the same old sins: perfectionism, pride, a need for control, impatience, and a bad habit of interrupting. I like to think I’ve improved with age, but sometimes I am not sure that’s true!  

Perfectionism in my teen years looked like hours of homework and studying, with the unreasonable expectation of knowing all the answers all the time. That carried on into my college years. When I added the job title Resident Advisor to my life, I almost buckled under the pressure and spent an entire semester of my senior year in tears. I wanted—no, expected—to be the best at my job and the best at all my classes. I simply couldn’t fathom doing a less-than-stellar job at anything (even down to the bulletin boards!). This meant I spent more time and energy on pretty much all aspects of my job, even though my coworkers were clearly fine with doing less.

In comparison to college, my working life felt a little easier but the sins of the leaders in my job and some of my clients left me disillusioned. By the grace of God (this is another blog post!) I landed in a job that I loved and thrived in for many years. But I felt the nudging of the Holy Spirit to quit completely and spend the next few years as a full-time at-home parent. 

While that decision benefited my children, ultimately, I suspect God had ulterior motives of His own. Without my job and my work defining me, I really had to examine my identity. If I wasn’t known for my accomplishments, then who exactly was I? God challenged me to be secure in my identity as His child even without visible achievements applauded by the world. 

A decade later, I think I can safely say perfectionism is much less of an issue for me than ever before. And that seems to have been the cue for the listening struggles to be brought to my attention! The fact I often interrupt and try to complete people’s sentences was gently shared by one of the people closest to me. I was immediately filled with shame. I couldn’t believe I was completely unaware of such a significant pattern that was negatively affecting those I love most. I was crushed by this revelation. 

But what I am starting to see is that God, in His infinite wisdom, knows the pace at which we can learn, grow, and change. I think for most of us, that pace is much slower than we’d like. Perhaps now that I’ve matured in some areas, God can begin work in new areas of my life. It’s uncomfortable for me, but I can trust that my loving Father is still carrying on the good work He began in me. And that work will have me always growing and changing, so I can become more and more like Him in how I live and love. 

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Welcome to the new year!      

I’m grateful for another year, excited and eager to see all that God is going to do, and yet I don’t like thinking about the future. All this talk about New Year’s resolutions; how to make this year better than the last and setting expectations for the year ahead. I’m not a dreamer, so I wrestle with this conversation. Add to that all the demands we’re coming out of from the holiday season—work obligations, church commitments, Christmas shopping (making sure I didn’t forget anyone!), getting to all the gatherings...trying to think of ways to improve myself, my family, and my life sounds exhausting! The last thing I want to do is create a plan for yet another thing I need to achieve. Maybe you can relate.  

Now, don’t get me wrong, I love a good to-do list (I just don’t need more on it!). And I do deeply admire people who are ambitious about their New Year's resolutions. However, when it comes to achieving more and adding more tasks to my plate, for me it feels less like growth and more like noise. So this year, I am praying this simple prayer from Psalm 25 to help release me from my “resolution paralysis.”        

Originally a psalm that David wrote, Psalm 25 is a prayer for guidance, protection, trust, and patience; all things I need to be reminded of as I transition from one year to another:  

Show me your ways, Lord, teach me your paths. Guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long.

How comforting! In all the hustle and bustle of the season, the new year begins with excitement, nervousness, exhaustion, and yet, this verse provides reassurance that I don’t need to make my own path. I don’t need to lead myself. I don’t need to hope in myself, in my own strength, in my own will, because I have hope in the Lord. Without looking to Him, I am paralyzed in the unknowns, stuck in the exhaustion of life, and consumed with the full schedule I have. If I look to myself, I have no direction, no way to achieve my goals, and no clear path to pursue. I need Him to show me the way, to teach me the plan He has for me this year. If I don’t want to be disappointed and heartbroken, then my trust must always be in Jesus, nothing else. Because his Word is the source of life and hope in everything.  

So as you begin a new year, when new expectations begin to feel overwhelming—whether they come from within or from others—look to Jesus. Psalm 25 gives us permission to let go of our own plan, our own way, our own path, and to focus on the One who is ultimately in control. Find rest in knowing that as you pray, worship, and spend time in His Word. He will faithfully make His plan for you clear in the days ahead.

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I love pancakes. I love my dog. I love my husband. And I love naps. 

But do I love these things in the same way? We often use the term “love” so casually it’s easy to miss the weight behind it. By treating love so lightly, are we reducing it from something sacred to something shallow? And is there a risk in doing so? After all, I just equally applied the word love to both my husband and something that originates from a box of Bisquick.  

When I stop and reflect, I realize that when I look to the world to define what love is, it’s tied directly to my emotions. I claim to “love” something because it gives me pleasure in some way. But if love were only dependent on something that makes me feel good or happy, then its presence in my life would come and go as quickly as the final bite on my breakfast plate. I’d be engaged in an endless cycle of chasing after things that stir up the “love” inside, only to have the feeling fade, leading me to find something new to love all over again (actually, once upon a time, that’s exactly what I did…but that’s a story for another day). 

However, like everything else in life, if I truly want to understand love, I should not look to the world but to God’s Word to find clarity. And while the entire Bible reveals God’s incredible mercy and love for us, the birth of Christ demonstrates just how powerful love really is. 

At Christmas, we encounter a love beyond our understanding. God, the incomprehensible Creator of all things, left His throne in the perfect heavenly realm to come to earth to be born in the form of a human baby. Not just any baby, but a baby born without prestige or wealth or material things (a baby whose first cradle was literally an animal food trough!). A baby whose destiny was not just to minister to the lost and broken, but to also be executed on a cross by the very people He came to serve.  

When I look at God’s example of love, I realize it isn’t inward-facing, as I often assume—it’s outward-facing. Love is stepping down from our own place to meet others where they are. It’s serving when we might rightly be served. It’s sacrificing ourselves for the benefit of someone else. In other words, love is not a feeling, it’s an action. It’s putting another’s needs above our own, even when it’s inconvenient, uncomfortable, or undeserved—not because it makes us feel good, but because it is what God did for us.  

This Christmas, chances are you’ll likely encounter someone who stirs up strong emotions—a spouse, a family member, or someone in your circle whose views greatly differ from your own. While love driven by feelings may serve us well when life is easy, it can be hard to find when faced with someone who challenges our patience and goodwill. But as we celebrate the birth of Jesus, we are reminded that love is not what people do or give to us, but what we can do or give to others. In those moments, loving like Christ becomes the most meaningful gift we can offer; one that can change lives, heal hearts, and point others toward the one who loves us perfectly. 

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