Running Into Grace

2 Corinthians 5:17 “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.”

Salina never stayed in one place too long—jobs, relationships, even cities. Her calendar was full of concerts, road trips, and late nights that blurred. She liked it that way. No one depended on her, and she depended on no one.

Until one spring afternoon, something felt… off.

She was halfway through a run, earbuds in, thoughts drifting, when a wave of nausea stopped her mid-stride. She doubled over on the side of the trail. Her heart was pounding for a different reason now.

Later that evening, she waited, then took a test.

Two red lines. She was pregnant.

She stared at the ceiling long after midnight, the weight of the future pressing down like never before. What kind of future am I building for this child? Is there more to life than this? What do I really believe?

The questions scared her, but they also stirred something inside that refused to settle.

So, she walked into a church she had passed a hundred times before. She slipped into the back row. The songs were unfamiliar. The people were strangers, but something about it made her stay.

Weeks passed. Then one Sunday, someone shared the story of Jesus with such simple clarity, it disarmed her. She heard about His love that covered everything—regret, restlessness, rebellion.

When the invitation at the end of service came to receive Christ, she said yes. She let Him in.

Now, two years later, her daughter toddles barefoot through her grandmother’s kitchen while Salina laces up her running shoes again.

Midway through the run, she stops. Not because she is sick again—but because it is Mother’s Day. And she remembers.

God had met her on that sidewalk when she least expected it. He saved her not just from her past, but for her future.

Perhaps that is what you need to hear today—that the same God is still present, still near, and still ready to meet you exactly where you are.

All you have to do is stop, ask, and let Him in.

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Beauty from the Ashes

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Isaiah 61:3a — “He will give a crown of beauty for ashes, a joyous blessing instead of mourning, festive praise instead of despair.”

Lately, I have been catching myself holding Lennox just a little longer before putting him down.

His little chest rises and falls against mine, warm and steady, and I think about how this is my first Mother’s Day as a mom. I should be thrilled, and part of me is.

But the truth? It is complicated.

Because Mother’s Day has been hard for years. My own mom isn’t here anymore. And not a year goes by that I don’t wish I could call her, hear her laugh, or ask her how she handled all the mom-things I am just now beginning to understand.

But this year… there’s something new to celebrate

There’s Lennox.

There’s a sweetness to waking up in the night and knowing I get to be his safe place. And there’s my stepdaughter. We have had our rough patches—God knows blending families is not an easy road—but lately, there has been this trust growing between us. It is not perfect, but it is good.

And that is what I am holding on to.

I could stay in the sadness. I could make room only for what’s missing.

But I won’t.

Because I believe God can do something with all of it. The joy. The sting in my heart. The parts I wish were different. He does not waste a single piece.

You see, grief and joy can live side by side, and your pain is not pointless because the Lord can turn broken things and make them beautiful, even now.

So, if you are standing in the middle ground like me—with joy in one hand and sorrow in the other—just know you are not alone. God is still in it. He is still restoring, still healing, and still showing you the beauty you didn’t know was possible.

And this year? I am choosing to see it.

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Made for Growth

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2 Peter 3:18 “But grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. To him be the glory both now and to the day of eternity. Amen.”

I did not plan on getting emotional—it just happened. I was scrolling through my phone for a recipe and stumbled across a photo from the day we brought our daughter home from the hospital.

I sat on the edge of the bed and just stared at it. I could almost smell that sweet newborn scent again, feel the warmth of her against my chest. She was so small. I remember being scared to hold her too tightly, afraid I might do something wrong. I had no idea what I was doing, but somehow, I knew I had never loved anything more.

That picture could have been taken yesterday—and yet, here we are.

She’s walking now. Babbling. Exploring every corner of the living room with that determined little look in her eyes. One week she is clumsily gripping her bottle, and the next, she is waving at strangers in the grocery store.

It is breathtaking about watching someone grow right in front of you. The days feel long while you are in them—but looking back, it’s all a blink.

And then it hit me: if she is changing that quickly, maybe I am too.

It is easy to miss your own growth. I catch myself measuring life by where I think I should be while forgetting how far I have already come. We tend to believe that if we don’t feel progress, it must not be happening. But just because we cannot see something growing does not mean it isn’t.

God is still working in me. Even on quiet days. Even when I feel stuck. He is molding me into the person He has always intended me to be.

Growth is not a sprint from one milestone to the next. It is made of little choices. It is thos4 small, quiet turns of the heart toward trust. And just like Reese is becoming more of who she is meant to be every day… so are you and me.

You are not who you were six months ago. Or last year. You are not finished, either, or the work God is doing in you—right now—is not wasted. Every moment of growth matters, even when you do not feel it yet.

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Still On Mission

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2 Timothy 4:5 “As for you, always be sober-minded, endure suffering, do the work of an evangelist, fulfill your ministry.”

I don’t know how else to put it—my mother could talk to a fence post and get it saved before sundown.

Now I mean that with every ounce of admiration. She had this way of making you feel like you mattered, like you weren’t just someone she passed in the aisle at Dollar General. And she did not need a big crowd to share what was in her heart. As long as there was breath in her lungs, she was going to make sure you knew about Jesus.

Then, one day, the doctors used words none of us ever wanted to hear: breast cancer.

I braced myself. I thought, well, maybe she will take this time to rest. But if anything, she got louder. Not in volume, but in purpose. That hospital bed turned into her mission field. The IV pole might as well have been a microphone.

Every nurse, every doctor, and even the folks checking her vitals at 2 a.m.— they all heard the same sweet gospel. Jesus loves you.

Now, some folks smiled politely and scooted right out the door, but a few lingered, asked questions, and let their guards down. There she was, weak in body but strong in spirit, doing what she was made to do.

That is what sticks with me now. She didn’t waste her pain. She handed it to God like a basket of loaves and fish and said, “Do something with this, Lord.” And He did.

So, I need to tell you this, dear ones: just because life looks messy does not mean it’s meaningless. Just because you are hurting does not mean you are useless. Your struggle might be the very soil where someone else’s faith takes root.

Stay open. Keep sowing. Because even in a hospital gown, hooked up to machines, my mom showed me that Jesus still shines.

And family, He can shine through you too.

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When God Gives You Pizza

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Isaiah 65:24 – “Before they call I will answer; while they are yet speaking I will hear.”

Bonita was not in the mood to talk to anyone. She just wanted to pick up the pizza and go. One pizza. The cheapest one they had. She had double-checked the change in her purse before ordering just hoping she wouldn’t come up short.

On the outside, it probably looked like a normal day, but Bonita knew what it cost her to be there. Pride. Worry. Weariness. Trying to feed a family on fumes never got easier.

At the restaurant, she waited in the car, watching people walk in and out. Then a young employee stepped out, holding not one, but two boxes.

Her stomach sank. She didn’t want a scene. “Oh—I think there’s been a mistake,” she said gently. “I only paid for one.”

But the girl just smiled. “This one’s free. It was an extra. We were just going to throw it away, but we would rather one of our customers had it instead.”

Bonita didn’t know what to say. She just took the boxes and tried not to let the tears fall until she was by herself. No, she didn’t cry over pizza. She cried over the timing. The tenderness. She cried because it felt like God had looked right into her situation and said, I’ve got you.

She did not asked for two pizzas, but God gave her an extra one anyway.

Friend, it is easy to believe we are invisible in our everyday struggles—but God sees every detail. He even hears the prayers we don’t say out loud. He gives what we did not think to ask for. You are not forgotten. And your needs are not too small for Him to meet.

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When Hope Sits Beside You

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1 Thessalonians 5:11 – Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing.

Rachel hadn’t planned to cry at the splash pad, but there she was—sweaty, hungry, and overstimulated as her toddler lost his mind over a graham cracker.

Her baby was asleep and wrapped against her chest, but everything else was a mess. She sat down on the nearest bench, defeated. Her body ached. Her mind raced. She wanted to feel grateful. Instead, she just felt alone.

She watched other moms—some with iced coffees, some chatting with friends—and wondered if she was the only one barely holding it together.

Then a woman slid onto the bench beside her. She was older, maybe in her 50s.

“It’s so hard when you’re in it,” she said, “but it won’t always be this way. You’re doing good.”

Rachel looked over, surprised. The woman gave her a small smile. “I remember thinking I would never make it through either, but I did. You will too.”

Rachel didn’t answer. She just nodded. Her throat tightened, and her eyes stung.

The woman stayed a minute longer, then got up and walked away. But her words stayed. Rachel looked down at her baby, still sleeping, and up at her toddler, now giggling as he splashed again.

What she said didn’t fix the hard, but it reminded Rachel of something she had not felt in a while: hope.

The exhaustion was temporary, and in the meantime, she could encourage herself and others who were facing their own tough moments.

Maybe that is why we go through hard things. Not just so we will survive, but so we will have something realto offer someone else when it is their turn.

If you’re in it right now, don’t pull away. Lean in. It will not always be this way, and when the time comes, let your story become someone else’s strength.

This is hard. But you are doing better than you think. Keep going.

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Love Always Finds a Way

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1 John 4:16 – So we have come to know and to believe the love that God has for us. God is love, and whoever abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him.

My mom hated flying.

She would grip the armrest during takeoff and talk too loudly over the roar of the engine. She prayed from the moment the plane took off until the wheels were safely turning into the gate.

At the time, I lived across the U.S. from her, and she came to see me often. I can still see her walking down the hallway of my home, suitcase wheels bumping behind her. Her perfume arriving a few seconds before she did. She would give me a big hug and ask what we were doing for supper.

That was the thing about her. She never made a big deal out of it. For years, she just came to see me. Now, her visits live in my memory like golden light. They were acts of love wrapped in plane tickets, missed sleep, and nerves she never let keep her away.

She came anyway.

That simple truth is what undoes me. The fact that she loved me enough to push past her fear.

And that is what helps me begin to understand God’s love.

Because He comes, too. Even when we are messy. Even when we don’t appreciate it. He still shows up. It is not because it is easy, but because we are His kids.

Maybe today is a good day to look at your life and ask: where is God showing up, even when I am not looking for Him?

His love is steady. Relentless. Brave. I don’t ever want to miss that again.

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The Love That Defines Me

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Psalms 8:3-4 – “When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him, and the son of man that you care for him?”

Mark Hall had spent years trying to keep up.

He wasn’t the smartest kid growing up—dyslexia made sure of that. Reading was hard, school was harder, and no matter how much he tried, he always felt a little behind. So, he learned to compensate. Work harder. Push more. Don’t let anyone see the struggle.

By the time he became a youth pastor, that mindset hadn’t changed. He poured everything he had into ministry, convinced that if he just gave enough, maybe he’d finally stop feeling like he was falling short.

But one night, long after the last teenager had left youth group, he sat alone with his guitar.

Not to write a song. Not to impress anyone. Just to breathe.

And as his fingers found familiar chords, the words came.

“Who am I, that the Lord of all the earth would care to know my name?”

He stopped.

That lyric was his question. The one that had been chasing him since childhood. The one he had been too busy to face.

Who was he, really? Just some guy trying too hard? A pastor with good intentions but a heart that still wondered if God was really as steady as He claimed to be?

And then, the answer settled over him.

It was never about who he was. It was always about who God is.

For the first time in years, Mark let go of the pressure to be “enough.” He let himself believe that God was not waiting on him to measure up, and He had loved him long before he had anything to offer.

That song—Who Am I?—would go on to remind millions of people of the same truth. But for Mark, it started in that quiet room, on an ordinary Wednesday night, when he finally stopped striving.

And maybe that is a moment you need too.

Maybe you have spent years chasing approval, measuring your worth by what you do instead of resting in what has already done.

But here is the truth: You don’t have to fight for a love that was never based on your performance in the first place.

God’s grace has never been about your ability to hold on to Him. It has always been about His ability to hold on to you.

 

Lyrics:

Who am I, that the lord of all the earth
Would care to know my name
Would care to feel my hurt?
Who am I, that the bright and morning star
Would choose to light the way
For my ever wandering heart?

Not because of who I am
But because of what you’ve done
Not because of what I’ve done
But because of who you are

I am a flower quickly fading
Here today and gone tomorrow
A wave tossed in the ocean
A vapor in the wind
Still you hear me when I’m calling
Lord, you catch me when I’m falling
And you’ve told me who I am
I am yours

Who am I, that the eyes that see my sin
Would look on me with love
And watch me rise again?
Who am I, that the voice that calmed the sea
Would call out through the rain
And calm the storm in me?

Not because of who I am
But because of what you’ve done
Not because of what I’ve done
But because of who you are

I am a flower quickly fading
Here today and gone tomorrow
A wave tossed in the ocean
A vapor in the wind
Still you hear me when I’m calling
Lord, you catch me when I’m falling
And you’ve told me who I am
I am yours

Not because of who I am
But because of what you’ve done
Not because of what I’ve done
But because of who you are

I am a flower quickly fading
Here today and gone tomorrow
A wave tossed in the ocean
A vapor in the wind
Still you hear me when I’m calling
Lord, you catch me when I’m falling
And you’ve told me who I am
I am yours
I am yours
I am yours

Whom shall I fear, whom shall I fear?
‘Cause I am yours
I am yours

“Who Am I”
(Mark Hall)
© 2003 Be Essential Songs (BMI) (admin. at EssentialMusicPublishing.com) / My Refuge Music (BMI) (admin. at CapitolCMGPublishing.com)

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Delay is Not Denial

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Ecclesiastes 3:11 – “He has made everything beautiful in its time.”

We were finally on our way. Newly married, passports in hand, and headed off on our long-awaited honeymoon. We had saved and planned for months, dreaming of rest, romance, and the trip of a lifetime.

The plan was simple: fly out of Shreveport, connect in Dallas, and wake up in London.

We made it to Shreveport in plenty of time. But then came the voice over the intercom—our first flight was delayed. No big deal. We still had time.

But minutes turned to hours, and I felt joy shift into anxiety. My mind began to race. What if we miss our connection flight? What if we lose our first day? What happens then?

Our plane arrived, but when we finally landed in Dallas, we had only five minutes to make it to our next gate. Five minutes.

There was no time to think. We took off running, dragging our bags, legs burning, lungs gasping. We looked ridiculous. But there was no room for dignity when your dream is about to take off without you.

Somehow—miraculously—we made it. We slid into our seats, breathless and stunned, exchanging nervous laughter and wide-eyed relief.

I will never forget the rush of relief. But more than that, I will never forget the lesson that came later. I have felt that same sense of panic in other areas of life. When the doors for job opportunities closed, when plans fell through, or when I looked around and wondered if I was behind, I have really struggled.

But, you know, delay is not denial.

God is not bound by our timelines. It is hard to wait, but what I have learned—what I’m still learning—is that God is never late. And if He has called you to something, He will not forget you.

So, if you feel delayed, stuck, or like your turn will never come, take heart. Even if you are breathless right now, God knows where you are, and He is still getting you there.

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A Friend Who Stays

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Romans 12:10 – “Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor.”

Before the boat even left the dock, I could feel it—I was nervous.

Jordan moved like he was born doing this. He was checking rods, organizing bait, steering around Lake D’arbonne like it was second nature. I did my best to follow his lead, but I was out of my element.

I hadn’t fished much growing up—not seriously. And even though I had been part of a men’s Bible study for a while, where I was finally learning how to feel at home around other men, being out here stirred up something old and unwelcome.

You should know this already. You’re a guy. You’re from the South. What’s wrong with you?

That shame crept in fast. I felt like an outsider again.

But Jordan did not let those lies breathe for long.

He never made a show of helping, and he did not laugh or point out my mistakes. He just came alongside. No judgment. No pressure. Just a guy who cared enough to stick beside me until the knots were tied and the cast was clean.

We didn’t catch any fish that day, but I left the water with something I did not expect. Confidence. Not because I had suddenly figured it all out, but because someone treated me like I already belonged.

That trip reminded me of what real brotherhood can do.

I want to be the kind of friend who helps someone feel safe when they are unsure. Who silences insecurity by refusing to flinch when it shows up. Who stays, even when the fish don’t bite.

I want to be for others who I needed on that boat: a real brother, like Christ is to us. And I want to do that on purpose.

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