“But above all, my brothers, do not swear, either by heaven or by earth or by any other oath, but let your “yes” be yes and your “no” be no, so that you may not fall under condemnation.”

James 5:12

Have you ever promised yourself that this year would finally be different? Maybe you picked a word, set a goal, or made a resolution—then life got in the way. I get it.

A few years back, I set a goal to take better care of myself. Let’s just say it is still a work in progress.

At the time, I was a dad in full survival mode. Leftover chicken nuggets? Sure, I’ll eat them. Kids’ untouched fries? No problem. I told myself I was preventing waste, but really, I was treating myself like a human trash can.

It was not until I hit a wall that I realized something had to change. My health was suffering, and so was my peace. I began to see how my actions stemmed from something deeper: a lack of self-worth.

I had been saying yes to everything—to extra obligations, to people who drained me, to food I did not even want—because I thought my needs did not matter. But that mindset left me physically tired, emotionally burnt out, and spiritually distant from the life God wanted for me.

Little by little, I started setting boundaries. I said no to the leftovers, the unnecessary commitments, and the things that weighed me down. I did not do it to be selfish, but I wanted to make room for the things that mattered most. And you know what? My family got a more present version of me, my health improved, and my heart found space to grow closer to God.

Here is what I have learned: Love is not about doing more. It is about doing what is best. God never asked us to carry every load. He invites us to let go of what weighs us down so we can hold on to what gives life. You do not have to do it all. Set down what is not yours to carry, and trust God to lead you into freedom.

“He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might He increases strength.”

Isaiah 40:29

Franklin Roosevelt had always been in control. Wealth, education, political success—he had the confidence and connections to go as far as he wanted. But in the summer of 1921, everything changed.

The fever hit first. Then the aching. By nightfall, he couldn’t make his legs move. It was like someone had reached in and cut the wires. Doctors later confirmed what he feared: polio.

The grief was suffocating. His wife, Eleanor, watched him slip into silence. The once-boundless energy, the easy confidence, the man who strode into every room like he belonged—gone. In his place, a husband who barely spoke. A father who could not chase his children. A man who had spent his life moving forward, now stuck in place.

There were days he did not think he would recover—not just his body, but himself. But somewhere in the waiting, in the stillness, in the unbearable truth of his limitations, he made a choice. If he could not walk, he would fight.

He pushed himself through brutal rehabilitation—not to regain what was lost, but to master what remained. He strengthened his upper body, taught himself to stand with support, and learned to project confidence even from a wheelchair.

The world saw his return to politics before they saw his pain. They saw a leader who had endured. But Roosevelt knew the cost.

By the time America needed a leader strong enough to face the Great Depression, Roosevelt was ready. Not because he had never known struggle, but because he had.

When hardship comes, it is easy to believe that life is over as you knew it. But what if, like Roosevelt, this is the moment you are being shaped for? Strength is not found in avoiding suffering—but in choosing to keep going through it.

“Worship the LORD in the splendor of holiness; tremble before Him, all the earth!”

Psalm 96:9

Rich Mullins was the kind of guy who showed up to concerts barefoot.

He was not trying to be a rebel—this was just who he was. He couldn’t pretend.

That honesty did not always sit well in the Christian music industry. People wanted polished radio hits and predictable melodies. But Rich’s songs did not fit. His lyrics were jagged prayers, full of doubt, struggle, and desperate longing.

He was disillusioned by what the industry told him to be. Faith, for him, was not about tidying yourself up for God. It was about being raw and honest about a messy life while clinging to a perfect Savior. Were people finding God in all of this, or settling for something shallow?

It felt too clean, too put together. He was not sure he believed in that kind of faith. Jesus had calloused hands. He sat in the dirt. He wept, raged, bled. That was the Savior Rich wanted to sing about, and if it did not sell? Fine. He was tired of worship that felt like a performance.

So he wrote like he prayed—messy, unfiltered, honest.

One day, he scribbled out “Our God is an awesome God.” It was not a masterpiece. It was not even his favorite song. But he meant it.

Somehow, the song caught fire. People sang it in churches and youth groups. It belonged to the brokenhearted, the tired, the messy believers who needed to remember that God was still mighty and still good.

But if you asked Rich, he never saw the song—or his music—as a success story. Success was not standing on a stage. It was not record sales or industry approval. It was a life lived honestly before God. A worship that was not a performance but a hallelujah rising from the dust.

And maybe that is the real takeaway. Worship is not about looking good or sounding right. It is about showing up—barefoot, broken, unsure—and offering everything you have, knowing God is worthy of it all.

 

RICH MULLINS
Awesome God Story

Rich Mullins’ Awesome God is one of the most beloved anthems in contemporary Christian music, known for its simple yet powerful declaration of God’s greatness. Written in the late 1980s, the song was inspired by Mullins’ deep reverence for God’s majesty and his desire to create a song that would stir people to worship. The verses paint vivid images of God’s power and justice, while the chorus triumphantly proclaims, “Our God is an awesome God!”—a line that has echoed through churches and worship gatherings for decades.

Interestingly, Mullins himself once said, “You know, the thing I like about ‘Awesome God’ is that it’s one of the worst-written songs that I ever wrote; it’s just poorly crafted.” But he went on to explain that sometimes, the message is more important than the craftsmanship. Rather than focusing on crafting the perfect song, he wanted to write something that would make people respond—not to the song, but to the truth of who God is.

That’s exactly why Awesome God has endured as a church anthem. The melody is easy to sing, making it perfect for congregational worship, while the lyrics are a bold reminder of God’s sovereignty and grace. Even though Mullins was known for his poetic and often introspective songwriting, this song stands out as a direct and universal declaration of faith. It’s a song that unites believers, young and old, in a shared moment of praise—one that continues to resonate in hearts long after the music fades.

Awesome God
COMLETE LYRICS TO SONG

When He rolls up His sleeves
He ain’t just putting on the ritz
(Our God is an awesome God)

There’s thunder in His footsteps
And lightning in His fists
(Our God is an awesome God)

And the Lord wasn’t joking
When He kicked ’em out of Eden
It wasn’t for no reason
That He shed His blood
His return is very close
And so you better be believing that
Our God is an awesome God

Our God is an awesome God
He reigns from heaven above
With wisdom, power, and love
Our God is an awesome God

And when the sky was starless
In the void of the night
(Our God is an awesome God)

He spoke into the darkness
And created the light
(Our God is an awesome God)

Judgment and wrath He poured out on the Sodom
Mercy and grace He gave us at the cross
I hope that you have not
Too quickly forgotten that
Our God is an awesome God

Our God is an awesome God
He reigns from heaven above
With wisdom, power, and love
Our God is an awesome God

“But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which He loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved.”

Ephesians 2:4-5

Those early postpartum days felt like a blur. My baby Lennox was everything I had dreamed of, but somewhere between sleepless nights and diaper changes my house became, well, a nightmare.

Laundry draped over chairs, dishes filled on the edge of the sink, and the floor? Let’s just say I was not winning any cleaning awards. I hated how my house looked—and how I felt living in it. Truth be told, I could not keep up. I did not have the energy, and that only made me feel worse.

One afternoon, a message lit up my phone: “Hey,” my friend wrote, “we know how overwhelming those early baby days can be. We’d like to gift you a professional house cleaning.”

I stared at my phone, mortified. Let strangers into this mess? But before I could decline, another text followed.

“It’s okay,” she assured me. “This is what friends are for.”

When the cleaning team arrived, I felt like hiding. For three hours, they scrubbed, dusted, and tackled every corner. My husband and I apologized repeatedly, but they just smiled. “This is what we do,” they said. “We’re happy to help.”

This whole experience reminded me of God. How many times had I tried to hide my life’s mess from Him, thinking I needed to fix it first? Yet, every time, He steps into the chaos and does what I cannot.

God is the friend who steps into our chaos and says, “Let Me take care of this.” He doesn’t ask us to fix it first. He doesn’t wait until we are presentable. He meets us right in the middle of our mess and lovingly makes us whole again. It is not because we deserve it. It is because He is rich in mercy.

If you are feeling overwhelmed by your life’s mess today, know this: you do not have to face it alone. God’s love can transform anything. So, let Him in. Let Him show you what grace can do.

“How precious is your steadfast love, O God! The children of mankind take refuge in the shadow of your wings.”

Psalm 36:7

I love you, I love you, I hate you.

At lunch with a friend, I was describing the confusing relationship I had with my mom. After sharing several stories of painful moments, my friend calmly said, “That’s called ‘I love you, I love you, I hate you.’”

I’d never heard those words put together like that, but they rang true. My friend unpacked it more as we ate lunch, and I realized she was describing my childhood experience.

Later, as I thought about being loved and also very harsh moments throughout my childhood, I realized my marriage had been the same way. Sincere moments of love and care were followed by dishonesty, meanness, and infidelity. The cycle would repeat over and over. I love you, I love you, I hate you.

The more I thought about this, the sadder I became. One Sunday morning while driving, I began to pour out my heart to God. “Father, it doesn’t seem fair that the two most influential relationships of my life have been ‘I love you, I love you, I hate you’.” I repeated myself to God several times, lamenting the pain and confusion of these very close but very difficult relationships.

Then, very clearly, I heard a caring, warm voice say to me:

“I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Tears poured down my face as I pulled my car over. I couldn’t stop crying for over an hour. I knew it was true. He loves us, unconditionally. Hearing this and knowing it was true, I felt healing begin.

Our earthly relationships don’t always reflect the love of God. His love is constant, unwavering, and true. He isn’t reactionary or punishing. He doesn’t withhold His love. His love is lavish, healing, and unwavering.

If you’ve been hurt by a rejecting, confusing “I love you, I love you, I hate you” experience, I’m so sorry. Please know you have a Heavenly Father who is saying to you today:

I love you.
I love you.
I love you.

“For God is not unjust so as to overlook your work and the love that you have shown for His name in serving the saints, as you still do.”

Hebrews 6:10

I had always imagined my life unfolding in a certain way—falling in love, getting married, and becoming a mom. But in my early twenties, none of that was happening. Friends were catching bouquets and posting baby pictures, while I was still buried in textbooks and finishing my degree.

I remember asking the Lord for help in my frustration. He placed it on my heart to serve others in the very areas I was longing for. He encouraged me to start celebrating others even when they were getting what I wanted. I did not love the answer at first, but I knew He was right.

So, I started showing up. I went to baby showers, helped throw engagement parties, and celebrated all the beautiful things happening in other’s lives.

I even remember a Valentine’s Day where two dear friends wanted to surprise their fiancés and needed help pulling off the perfect romantic evening. I volunteered to make their vision a reality.

For hours, I set the table, fluffed pillows, and added every thoughtful touch I could think of. At the end of the night, as I packed up the decorations, I prayed one more time: “Lord, next year, I would love to be loved by someone in the same way.”

That night, God reminded me: faith is not always about getting what we want when we want it. It is about trusting His heart, even when the wait feels endless.

But I have got to brag on God a little bit. Just a year later, there I was, not planning the perfect night, but living it. I found myself sitting at a candle lit dinner across from Chris, the man I had prayed for, who would soon become my husband.

This is what I want you to take away: Faith, at its core, works through love.

So, this Valentine’s Day, can I encourage you? It can be hard to celebrate others when things aren’t happening the way we hoped. But sometimes, delay is simply space for you to grow in love—and that will always prepare you for something even better down the road.

“Casting all your anxieties on Him, because He cares for you.”

1 Peter 5:7

Mandy lay awake in the middle of the night, staring at the ceiling. The hum of the fan did little to calm her racing thoughts. Her husband’s job relocation had come suddenly, and though she tried to stay positive, she felt so anxious.

They had only been Christians for a short time, and their church was everything to her. The potlucks, the small groups, the pastor who preached with such sincerity. It was where she learned to read her Bible and pray.

Mandy couldn’t imagine losing that. Would they find another church? What if their faith faded without such a strong community?

The first few weeks in their new town only made her fears feel more real. Mandy and her husband visited churches every Sunday, but nothing felt right. The people were nice, but the connection wasn’t there. By the third week, she was ready to give up.

Then one morning, they walked into a little church tucked between a coffee shop and a pharmacy. Mandy was not expecting much, but as soon as they stepped inside, something felt different.

The greeters’ smiles were genuine, the worship authentic, and the teaching rooted in truth. Within weeks, they joined a small group, and for the first time since the move, Mandy felt a glimmer of peace.

Months later, Mandy looked back on those sleepless nights and smiled. God had known what they needed all along. Through their new church, she and her husband laughed harder, prayed more fervently, and studied Scripture with a hunger she never knew she had.

Friend, if you are struggling to trust God with the unknown, remember Mandy’s story. God provided more than she had dared to hope. He sees your heart and knows your needs, too. He isn’t just good—He is better than you can imagine, and His love will meet you right where you are.

“The Lord your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in His love He will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing.”

Zephaniah 3:17

Every February, without fail, my siblings and I would walk into the kitchen to find a surprise waiting on the table. Our favorite candy, a small toy, and handwritten note in my mom’s handwriting. It was nothing big, but it made us feel so loved.

Those little baskets told us we were special, that we were her Valentines.

What I did not see as a kid was what happened the night before. My mom would wait until we were fast asleep, then sneak into the kitchen to set everything up. She didn’t rush. She didn’t throw things together. Each basket was planned, down to the tiniest detail.

I never thought about how much love went into those simple gifts, and I wish I could go back and tell my younger self to pay closer attention: to notice the way her face lit up when we squealed in excitement or how she held on while we hugged her extra tight.

In the Bible, there is this beautiful verse that says God delights in us, rejoices over us, and even sings over us. Isn’t that amazing? That is not a distant kind of love. It is personal. Intentional.

Just like my mom didn’t wait for Valentine’s Day to love us, God does not wait for special occasions to remind us that we are His.

Maybe today for you feels ordinary or even lonely. I believe God’s love is closer than you think. Look for it in the details—the kindness of a friend, the colors of the sunset, or the peace that fills your heart unexpectedly. God’s love is there, pursuing you, surprising you, and reminding you that you are deeply loved.

“For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek.”

Romans 1:16

The first time R.C. set foot on the construction site, he knew one thing—keep your head down, get the job done, and stay out of trouble. The guys around him were rough around the edges and loud.

But R.C.? He kept to himself, earbuds in, and listened to his Christian music. But one afternoon, during a water break, a coworker nudged him.

“What are you always listening to, man?”

The question caught R.C. off guard. He hesitated, then mumbled something about uplifting music and God’s love.

The man nodded, surprisingly interested. “Huh. That stuff any good?”

Later that night, R.C. lay in bed thinking about that interaction. Something stirred inside him—was he missing an opportunity to share what he loved most?

The next day, he traded his earbuds for a Bluetooth speaker. As the first chords played, heads turned. He braced for ridicule, but it never came. By lunch, a few others were humming along.

So, he kept bringing his speaker to work, and as he did the transformation was undeniable around the job site. Days turned into weeks, and conversations grew kinder, tensions softened, and R.C. found himself laughing with men he once avoided.

Because that is the power of the gospel—it moves past differences, past pain, and speaks to the very core of who we are. The words of those songs told of a love so vast, so sacrificial, it could only come from God. Love poured out through Jesus on the cross, calling us to share it without fear.

If a simple song can shift an entire worksite, imagine what sharing love boldly could do in your world. Will you take that step?

“By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

John 13:35

The camp hall was alive with the sound of teenagers sharing their thoughts, struggles, and deepest questions. Their bell-bottom jeans brushed the floor; a girl with a braided headband tucked her knees to her chest.

A lanky boy with thick-rimmed glasses blurted out what everyone was thinking. “If love is supposed to fix everything, why does it feel like nothing changes?”

Their youth pastor, Peter Scholtes, had been listening from the back. As he stepped toward the wooden podium, he took a breath. He had no easy answer.

Outside the retreat, the world seemed fractured beyond repair. Tensions flared in the streets, communities splintered over ideologies. Even the church was not immune to the division. These teens carried that weight with them, and their confusion mirrored his own.

“I think,” he said slowly, “that the kind of love most people talk about is too small. But the love God calls us to? That’s the kind of love that can change everything.”

Hours later, after the teens went to bed, Peter sat alone in the makeshift chapel. The dim lights flickered, and the hum of cicadas filtered through the windows as he thought about their questions.

What could he give them—something that pointed to a love stronger than hate? He wasn’t trying to solve the world’s problems, but he felt compelled to give them something enduring. Pulling out a notebook, he began to write:

“We are one in the Spirit, we are one in the Lord 
And we pray that our unity will one day be restored 
And they’ll know we are Christians by our love.” 

The next morning, as the group sang the new hymn, the room seemed to change. Their voices wove together in a harmony that felt like hope.

Today, that same love still has the power to speak into the confusion and disillusionment of our lives. When the world feels too divided, too harsh, or too broken, remember that love is not passive. It is active, deliberate, and often sacrificial. Where can you choose to show that kind of love today? Who in your life needs to see God’s love through you?