Letting the Peace Drive

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2 Thessalonians 3:16 – Now may the Lord of peace himself give you His peace at all times and in every situation. The Lord be with you all.

Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever looked at a map, pointed to a dot seventeen hours away, and said, “Yes, that’s where I’ll be this weekend.” But that’s exactly what my daughter and I did.

The plan was simple: load up, drive, and make some memories.

Only the plan forgot to account for my hundred-pound dog who got sick the day before we left. She is a sweet creature, bless her heart, but I threw my back out taking her to the vet because my husband was out of town. I’m serious—it was like lifting a sofa by yourself.

And on the way to the vet, I noticed something was off with the car. It sounded like it was stuck in the wrong gear.

Now I had a sore back, a sick dog, and a temperamental vehicle. My brain started running wild with questions. Was God warning me not to go? Or was the enemy trying to sabotage the trip before it even started?

I needed wisdom, and maybe some jumper cables. So, I called my friend and spilled the whole story. She listened and then prayed with me over the phone.

Then she asked something that really stuck with me:

“Lauren, where do you feel peace? If Jesus is the Prince of Peace, do you sense more peace staying or going?”

Well, that is something I can usually answer in about three seconds.

In this case, the peace was in going. So, I ordered a rental car, and peace rode alongside me and my daughter the whole way.

Maybe that’s the thing. We don’t always know if the road will be easy, but we can know who is coming with us on the journey. And if it is the Prince of Peace, don’t stop there.

Give Him the keys.

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Let The Gardener Work

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John 15:1-2 — I am the true grapevine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch of mine that doesn’t produce fruit, and He prunes the branches that do bear fruit so they will produce even more.

It’s just after sunrise, and I’m sitting on the balcony of my apartment with a blanket over my knees and a mug of coffee in my hands. The air is crisp enough to make me pull the blanket tighter.

Everything is still except for the gardener below, tending to the landscaping.

It’s the perfect time for honesty. I close my eyes and whisper the same prayer I’ve been bringing to God for what feels like forever.

“God, can you please just put me back together?”

I want to be whole. I wanted to be the way I remember being before life started chipping away at me.

I take a deep breath and open a book I love. On the pages, a quote from Jon Rodel catches my eye:

“What if, instead of breaking down, you are actually breaking through?”

Oh my goodness. That is so good. It makes me want to run around.

But it doesn’t stop there. It goes on to say, “God is peeling back the parts of us that we do not need anymore. The fear. The pride. The toxic relationships. The toxic actions that we have inside of us. The brokenness. The things that once held us together, but now hold us back. And in their place, God is building something new. You’re not changing. God says you’re becoming, becoming who I created you to be full of light, full of love, full of courage and grace.”

As I read, I thought about the gardener below pruning a rosebush.

From the outside, it looks cruel—cutting back healthy branches, stripping leaves away. But the gardener knows the blooms will come back brighter and stronger for it.

That’s how this feels. It’s like He’s peeling away the things that once held me together but now hold me back.

Now, I know that when my life feels like it is falling apart, God is still working on me. Some days, I still reach for the glue to try to put the petals back on the leaves. But more and more, I’m learning to leave my hands open. To let the Gardener work without rushing Him.

The coffee is cold by the time I finish thinking about these things. But you know what? I can’t help but smile.

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When You Feel Alone

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Matthew 28:20 – Teach these new disciples to obey all the commands I have given you. And be sure of this: I am with you always, even to the end of the age.

I moved to Monroe for college in 2007 and didn’t know a single person. Not a soul.

The first few days were full of polite smiles from strangers I would never see again, and a lot of pretending I knew where I was going. So, when I heard about a worship night at ULM, I figured maybe this was my chance to meet people and begin to feel like I belonged.

When I got there, the place smelled of Johnny’s Pizza, Coke and Brookshires bakery cookies. I slid into a seat closer to the front ready for worship.

As excited as I was to worship, I was a little discouraged because, even here, no one really spoke to me. It seemed like everyone already had friends. On top of that, during worship, people were just sitting down, looking around, and unengaged. That is not what I am used to.

I thought to myself. “What planet am I on? Where am I?”

But then the band shifted into Kari Jobe’s “Revelation Song.” If you know it, you know how good it is.

“Worthy is the Lamb who was slain. Holy, holy is He. Sing a new song to Him who sits on Heaven’s mercy seat”

The melody seemed to wrap around the room and fill the cracks where my loneliness had crept in. For those few moments, I wasn’t the new kid or the outsider. Even if nobody else noticed me, I knew the Lord did.

When the song ended, I stayed in my seat for a moment, letting it sink in. Then I walked back across campus. I still didn’t know anyone’s name and nobody knew mine, but I had that experience that would lift me up as I found my place in a new place.

And just like I felt that night, I hope today you’ll remember that even when you’re standing in a room full of strangers, you’re never really alone.

 

Lyrics

Verse:
Worthy is the Lamb Who was slain
Holy holy is He
Sing a new song to Him Who sits on
Heaven’s mercy seat

Chorus:
Holy holy holy is the Lord God Almighty
Who was and is and is to come
With all creation I sing praise to the King of kings
You are my everything and I will adore You

Verse:
Clothed in rainbows of living color
Flashes of lightning rolls of thunder
Blessing and honor strength and glory and power be
To You the only wise King

Verse:
Filled with wonder, awestruck wonder
At the mention of Your name
Jesus Your name is power, breath and living water
Such a marvelous mystery

© 2004 Gateway Create Publishing/Integrity’s Praise! Music
CCLI: 4447960

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Letting Go of Baggage

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Psalms 55:22 — Give your burdens to the Lord, and He will take care of you. He will not permit the godly to slip and fall.

I am telling you. I need Jesus and a nap. Probably in that order.

It started in the airport with the smell of burnt coffee drifting from a kiosk, and the fluorescent hum overhead making everyone look tired before we’d even boarded. My gate was a picture of modern travel fatigue: people slumped in chairs, scrolling their phones, and clutching paper cups.

I was supposed to be in Baltic, South Dakota by nightfall. Instead, I got delay after delay. For hours, I just shuffled from one end of the concourse to another, checked my phone, and watched the same janitor push the same mop across the same patch of floor.

By the time the final cancellation came, I had already stopped hoping. I trudged back through the airport disappointed.

But you know what’s coming next, right? My luggage had already made it to South Dakota without me.

I travel a lot, so I have learned to pack light. But that one piece of luggage had my whole life in it (at least everything I think of as essential).

In the days that followed, I realized this debacle of losing my suitcase, in a way, was a good thing. It helped me to remember and reflect on how I carry other kinds of baggage with me everywhere I go. Things like worry, expectation, and stress,

I came home lighter than I’d expected, and it wasn’t because I didn’t have my suitcase. No, it was because I had a bed that smelled like my favorite detergent, pajamas that fit perfectly, and the relief of realizing that life is rarely as heavy as we make it.

Sometimes losing what you thought you couldn’t live without is the exact thing you need to finally run your race well. The weight falls off, and your arms and heart feel free for the first time in years.

So maybe today is a good day to consider what baggage you’ve been dragging around. What might happen if you simply set it aside, give it to God, and walk forward unburdened?

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Love Without Fixing It

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James 1:19 — Understand this, my dear brothers and sisters; You must all be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to get angry.

It started like any other coffee date—two friends meeting in the middle of a busy week.

We ordered and found a small table by the window. The late-afternoon light stretched long across the floor. I noticed a sad look in her eyes, as she held her mug with both hands. It was like she was trying to keep from coming apart.

We eased into the conversation with safe topics, but it didn’t last. She confessed the load she had been carrying, the sleepless nights, and the ache of not knowing what to do next.

I could feel my instincts firing. How do I fix this? What should I suggest? Who could I get her to call. My brain had already sketched a plan before she’d even finished talking.

That’s my reflex. I come ready with solutions. It feels like love to hand someone a map, to draw a line from here to there, to make things better. But something in me—something quieter than all my ideas—said, “Don’t fix this. Just be here for her.”

So, I leaned in and listened. Really listened. Not waiting for my turn to speak, not waiting for an opening to drop a piece of wisdom, but staying present as she shared her story.

She talked about the ache she carried and the decisions she wasn’t ready to make. She didn’t sugarcoat anything. I didn’t either. I just asked questions and let her answer however she needed.

Somewhere between sips of coffee and pauses in her sentences, her shoulders softened. She was still carrying the same weight, but it wasn’t pressing her down as much. She even laughed once.

When it was time to leave, I still had all my “solutions” tucked away, unused. And yet, I think she walked out lighter.

I used to think love meant having all the right answers. But I realized that God really doesn’t require us to.

So that’s what I want to encourage you with today as you interact with others. Most of the time, the kind of love God is really looking for is just knowing how to be a friend.

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When Being Right Hurts

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Matthew 6:12 — And forgive us our sins, as we have forgiven those who sin against us.

A year is a long time not to speak to someone.

At first, you don’t notice how long it’s been. The days pile up quietly, like snow on a roof, until one morning the weight could cave you in. That was me staring at the silent phone in my living room and thinking about the fight that started it all.

I had been determined to be right. Not “right” in the polite, let’s-agree-to-disagree kind of way. I mean one-hundred-percent, no-question-about-it, paint-it-on-a-billboard kind of right.

I told him so.

I told him exactly what I thought about the way he treated my sister and me compared to our half-brother. The words came hot and fast. Dad’s anger rose to meet mine, and somewhere in that heat, I crossed the line from honest to hurtful.

Instead of walking it back, I planted my feet. I dug my heels in like a stubborn mule. And he did the same.

So began the longest silence of my life. Christmas came. No call. My birthday. His birthday. Father’s Day. No call. Somewhere along the way, “being right” began to feel empty. It was like carrying a trophy no one wanted.

Then one day the phone rang.

It was my dad’s best friend.

“Tammi,” he said, “you’ve got to make things right with your dad. This tension between you two, it’s killing him.”

I didn’t hesitate. “No. He’s wrong. Flat wrong.”

There was a pause. Then he said the words that split my pride in two:

“Tammi, it doesn’t matter who’s right or wrong when you walk up to his coffin.”

Those words took the air right out of me. In that moment, “being right” didn’t seem nearly as important as forgiveness. I wanted to be close to my dad again.

So that same day, I drove to his house. I told him I was sorry—for my pride, my sharp words, and my stubbornness. I asked for his forgiveness, and he gave it.

That day, I learned you can win an argument and still lose what matters most. God knew what He was talking about when He taught us to pray, “Forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.”

That’s why we need both kinds of grace. We need the kind that flows to us and the kind that flows from us.

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Faith Around the Flagpole

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1 Timothy 4:12 –Don’t let anyone think less of you because you are young. Be an example to all believers in what you say, in the way you live, in your love, your faith, and your purity.

Coach Jeremy stood a step back from the circle of students at the flagpole, hands in his jacket pockets, fighting the coach’s reflex to lead.

He reminded himself what he had told faculty and parents: this was student-led, not a show for adults. His job this morning was to watch, to pray quietly, and to make sure the kids owned what they were doing.

Nash Wisner was one of the middle schoolers there. His shoulders were squared, eyes sweeping the crowd. Coach Jeremy knew the kid’s family and liked them. Nash had a steadiness to him and seemed to care about things that mattered.

By the time the clock edged toward 7:30, the crowd had swelled to two-hundred. The sound of them filled the small courtyard.

Between the songs, students like Nash Wisner stepped forward. They were awkward at first. Their words weren’t polished, but they were leading their peers. They prayed for friends who were struggling, for teachers carrying heavy loads, and for families needing strength.

Jeremy thought of how rare it was to see middle schoolers stand in front of peers and live their faith out-loud like this.

As their prayers came to a close and the school bell rang across the campus, the coach’s throat tightened as he looked in the eyes of these students. It was like each of them were given a jersey with their name on it.

Nash and other students knew they were agents of change, and today they were going to live like it.

Coach Jeremy stayed where he was for a moment under the flag flicking overhead. He knew on a day like today how easy it would be to sleep in or blend into the crowd without anyone noticing. But these students, along with others across the country, chose faith over comfort.

And as he followed them inside, he decided he would too.

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The Bible That Prayed

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Isaiah 55:11 — It is the same with My word. I send it out, and it always produces fruit. It will accomplish all I want it to, and it will prosper everywhere I send it.

She almost didn’t find it.

There was no spotlight on it. No labeled box. As she searched through the closet, she pulled a stack of old blankets down, one by one, until something hard and flat slid forward and landed in her lap.

It was her grandmother’s Bible.

The leather was the color of coffee left in the pot too long. It was cracked at the edges, soft in the middle. The spine sagged under strips of tape that had yellowed after decades.

She carried it to the kitchen table and sat there for a moment, just running her fingers over the cover. Then she opened it.

It was beautiful in the way only old things can be. The pages were soft as tissue. Corners were bent from years of folding.

And then the names.

There were dozens. Scrawled in the margins. Squeezed into the white space between verses. A cousin she hadn’t thought of in years. A neighbor who passed away before she was born. A church friend from decades ago.

Every name was written by a verse. A promise. It was like her grandmother had gone through the whole Bible and decided that no one she loved was going to leave this earth without being prayed for according to God’s Word.

She felt tears come before she even realized it. She took it home for safekeeping, and that night, she opened her own Bible.

It had clean pages and plenty of white space.

So, she started writing names and started praying.

And here’s the part that gets me—some Bibles are read through, while others are prayed through. If you believe prayer is powerful, imagine just how much more powerful it is to pray for people according to God’s word.

Because God’s word will not come back empty-handed.

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When God Sends a Friend

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Matthew 7:7 — Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you.

When Dad passed to glory, his beloved pup Billie Jo lost her reason for getting up in the morning.

She’d been his partner in crime in every conceivable way. Every morning, she’d ride shotgun for the coffee run. Every evening, she’d curl herself up into the crook of his knees.

After he was gone, she wasn’t interested in anything—or anyone—else. Our dogs tried, bless their hearts, to pull her into a game or two. She’d just turn her head away. She ate just enough to keep living, and her eyes stayed fixed on the door, like maybe she was waiting for him to walk back through.

I prayed for her one night while rinsing dishes. It was just a quiet, “Lord, help her find someone to love again.”

A few days later, Steve Holland—our funeral director—came by. Steve is the sort of man who can step into a room where grief is thick as blazes and somehow make it breathable. He stepped in a few days before the service, wearing that warm, steady smile of his.

Billie Jo was lying in the corner when Steve came in. She lifted her head, studied him for half a second, and then… well, she crossed the room and pressed her head into his chest. Steve wrapped his arms around her without missing a beat. It was like they’d both been handed exactly what they needed.

By the end of the week, she had a new home at Holland Funeral Home. Steve calls her “Boo” now, and she’s earned her place as a full-time comforter of the brokenhearted. She sits quietly beside those who can’t find words, reminding them they’re not alone.

I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. God has a way of taking small prayers and giving them big answers. And I have to wonder, how many miracles do we miss because we never think to ask?

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Tell Your Heart to Beat Again

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Psalms 73:26 – My health may fail, and my spirit may grow weak, but God remains the strength of my heart; he is mine forever.

They tell me the smell of an operating room stays with you.

Cold. Sharp. Like steel and lemon.

Randy Phillips wasn’t a surgeon. He was a pastor and a singer in the band Phillips, Craig & Dean. But there he was, watching a friend perform open-heart surgery in an Ohio hospital. The lights were white-hot, the room too quiet except for the patient’s heart monitor, and every movement felt like it had been rehearsed a thousand times.

The repair was finished. The surgeon massaged the heart gently, coaxing it to life.

Nothing.

He tried again. Still nothing. That silence was deafening, like the whole room was holding its breath.

Then the surgeon did something strange. He pulled off his mask, bent down close to the patient’s ear, and said in the kind of voice you’d use to redirect a scared child.

“Mrs. Johnson, this is your surgeon. The operation went perfectly. Your heart has been repaired. Now tell your heart to beat again.”

And it did.

That moment followed Randy home to Nashville. It wouldn’t let him go. So, he sat down with Bernie Herms and Matthew West, and they turned a hospital whisper into a song. Phillips, Craig & Dean first recorded “Tell Your Heart to Beat Again” for their Breathe In album.

Years later, Danny Gokey heard it. He was carrying his own grief, and the song felt like it had been written just for him. He recorded his version in 2014, and by 2016 it was climbing the charts. But the real story was in the people writing letters and sending messages back—widows, widowers, and others who had lost children, jobs, health, and hope.

They’d play the song on repeat. Some said it got them out of bed in the morning. Some said it kept them from giving up entirely.

And I think about that surgeon’s whisper. Sometimes God works the same way—not with a shout or a lightning bolt, but with a quiet nudge in your ear. A reminder that there is still life left in you. That it’s time to breathe.

And maybe that’s where you are right now. Maybe the room feels cold and the silence is heavy. But the Surgeon hasn’t left. He’s leaning in close.

And He’s telling your heart to beat again.

 

 

Lyrics

You’re shattered like you’ve never been before
The life you knew in a thousand pieces on the floor
And words fall short in times like these
When this world drives you to your knees
You think you’re never gonna get back
To the you that used to be

Tell your heart to beat again
Close your eyes and breathe it in
Let the shadows fall away
Step into the light of grace
Yesterday’s a closing door
You don’t live there anymore
Say goodbye to where you’ve been
And tell your heart to beat again

Beginning, just let that word wash over you
It’s alright now, love’s healing hands have pulled you through
So get back up, take step one
Leave the darkness, feel the sun
‘Cause your story’s far from over
And your journey’s just begun

Tell your heart to beat again
Close your eyes and breathe it in
Let the shadows fall away
Step into the light of grace
Yesterday’s a closing door
You don’t live there anymore
Say goodbye to where you’ve been
And tell your heart to beat again

Let every heartbreak, and every scar
Be a picture that reminds you
Who has carried you this far
‘Cause love sees farther than you ever could
In this moment, heaven’s working
Everything for your good

Tell your heart to beat again
Close your eyes and breathe it in
Let the shadows fall away
Step into the light of grace
Yesterday’s a closing door
You don’t live there anymore
Say goodbye to where you’ve been
And tell your heart to beat again

Your heart to beat again
Beat again

Oh
So tell your heart to beat again

Songwriters: Bernie Herms / Randy Phillips / Matthew Joseph West

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