Lessons in Faith, Family, and Finding Joy

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Romans 12:9-13 — Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves. Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Share with the Lord’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality.

Halloween has always been bittersweet for me. Nine years ago, my sister Patti went home to be with Jesus on this very day. Patti wasn’t what the world would call “normal.” She had learning challenges and physical limitations, but those never defined her — not to us, and certainly not to her. She lived with joy, grit, and a deep love for people and for Jesus.

Every year, I remember Patti by reflecting on the twelve lessons she taught me. They’re simple, yet profound reminders of what a Christ-shaped life looks like:

  • Be resourceful. It’s not about your size or abilities, but your willingness to be part of things — no matter what others think.
  • Never give up.
  • Roll with the flow, even if it means being inconvenienced for a little while.
  • Smile and know who you are.
  • Laugh often and enjoy life.
  • Know no strangers — everyone you meet is worth your time.
  • Love your family unconditionally.
  • Love Jesus even more.
  • Serve others. No matter the hurdles you face, someone always needs help — and you can be the one to give it.
  • Be a friend to all.
  • Be yourself.

When I look at that list, I’m reminded of Paul’s words in Romans 12:9-13:

“Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves. Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Share with the Lord’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality.”

That’s Patti. She lived this out not by trying to be “normal,” but by being exactly who God made her to be. My brother once said, “What if Patti was always the normal one, and we are not?” That thought still stops me in my tracks. Maybe the truest version of “normal” isn’t what culture says, but what God calls us to: childlike faith, unconditional love, unashamed boldness for Jesus, and a life poured out for others.

This Halloween, as kids run door-to-door in costumes and laughter fills the streets, I’ll be celebrating Patti — the joy she brought, the faith she carried, and the love she shared. And my prayer is that we all might learn to live a little more like her: fully ourselves, fully alive in Christ, and fully unafraid to shine His light.

Because in the end, “normal” isn’t found on a checklist of abilities or expectations. As Patti reminded me, “Normal” is just a setting on the dryer.

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT:

  • Where in your life do you feel pressured to be “normal”?
  • How might God be inviting you instead to live with childlike faith, bold love, and the freedom of simply being who He made you to be?

 

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Leaving a Legacy of Faith

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Psalm 78:4 — We will not hide these truths from our children; we will tell the next generation about the glorious deeds of the Lord, about his power and his mighty wonders.

The grandkids were over again, racing through the living room. Tom sat back in his chair, letting their laughter echo through the house. He could not help but think how quickly time flies by.

He had raised his kids, watched them start families of their own, and now he was back to building forts in the living room with three wide-eyed grandkids.

They asked a hundred questions a day, most of which he did not have answers to. He wished he had more time to try.

It seemed like his wife Melody felt the same way. Later that evening, she turned over in bed and asked, “Tom, who is going to teach them truth when we are gone?”

That question led them to an unusual decision. A few weeks later, they added Christian radio to their will.

For Tom, it was not about control or making demands. It was about trust. He remembered how many times a simple song on the radio had steadied him in a storm, how a timely word had reminded him he was not alone. If it had carried him through, it could carry them, too.

He thought of the Israelites stacking stones beside the river as a marker for the children who would come later. “We will tell the next generation the praiseworthy deeds of the Lord, His power, and the wonders He has done.” His marker just happened to ride the airwaves, carrying truth to anyone willing to listen.

He could not choose the paths his grandchildren would walk. But he could leave a trailhead, a reminder pointing toward something real.

Someday, he thought, one of those little ones might turn the dial and hear hope when they need it most.

And maybe that is the invitation for all of us—to make sure someone else has the chance to hear hope when they need it most. After all, what better legacy could there be that’s worth tuning into?

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • What kind of spiritual legacy are you leaving for the next generation?
  • Who first helped you hear the truth about God’s love—and how can you pay that forward?
  • How can you use what you have today (time, resources, or influence) to help others encounter hope tomorrow?
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Family On the Move

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John 13:35 — Your love for one another will prove to the world that you are my disciples. 

The move nearly did me in.

First the engine blew, then the tire went flat, and before long, I was stranded on the side of the road. It took twenty hours just to limp the moving van into my new town.

By the time I finally arrived, my own car was sitting abandoned miles away, and I was too tired to even cry about it.

The next morning my phone buzzed. It was my radio friends. They wanted to know if I was okay. I didn’t have the energy to sugarcoat it. I told them everything: about my broke down vehicle and about feelings bone-tired and a little afraid.

Before I knew it, my friends came to my rescue. Not one or two people, but a small army of them. They showed up at my new apartment and got my car to a safe place. They carried boxes, lifted furniture, and encouraged me.

The funny thing is, I never asked. They just came.

And somewhere between the boxes and the laughter, one of them looked at me and said, “Brenda, you’re part of the family now. Your family is here to help you.”

Wow. That’s what it means to be the Church, isn’t it. It’s not a radio slogan. No, it’s real love on display. Sacrificial, supportive, and never missing a beat.

And it makes me wonder: how can I live that out for someone else? How many people are quietly stranded on their own roadside, too tired or too proud to ask for help?

What if we slowed down long enough to notice them? What if we showed up without waiting to be asked?

The truth is, every act of kindness and every burden shared preaches louder than any sermon ever could. Because what we call the body of Christ, I think that’s just another word for family.

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • When have you experienced someone showing up for you without being asked? How did that reflect God’s love?
  • Who in your life might be quietly struggling right now — and what’s one way you can “show up” for them this week?
  • How does being part of the body of Christ — this family of faith — inspire you to live more generously?
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Learning to Live and to Give

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Proverbs 3:9-10 — Honor the Lord with your wealth and with the best part of everything you produce. Then he will fill your barns with grain, and your vats will overflow with good wine.

I moved to Alabama with more faith than funds.

Ministry school felt like the next right step, and I did it because I was desperate. I needed God’s help with real struggles, and I needed older, wiser Christians to steady me.

But I wasn’t wise with money. I had just graduated from a four-year university, and until then, I had lived for the weekend and was having fun having fun.

And as you can see, I needed to grow—in more ways than one.

Now I was hours from home, without a safety net. I believed God called me here, but I knew faith alone wouldn’t pay the bills. If I was going to stay, I had to learn how to honor Him with my finances.

So I got a job at McDonald’s. It was grease-on-the-sleeves, hard work. And to my amazement, living on a budget actually worked.

My tuition? Paid. Grocery bills? Paid.

But then came my student housing bill. I handed it to the church secretary, and after checking her computer, she looked up and said, “David, it seems someone anonymously paid your rent for the rest of the year.”

My jaw hit the floor.

In that moment, I felt the weight of undeserved kindness. Somebody, flesh and blood like me, gave in a way that felt radical. It felt like the love of God. That gift bought me time to breathe, to study, and to save for a missions trip I knew I was called to take. It changed me. It made me want to be that kind of giver, and to live wisely and open-handed.

That year taught me something important: money isn’t a word to avoid in church. If we learn to honor God with it, He can use us to point others toward hope.

So, whether you’re in need or in abundance today, let your budget reflect faith in tomorrow. Live generously. Save with purpose. And let God write a better story with what’s in your hands.

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • When has someone’s generosity reminded you of God’s love for you?
  • What would it look like for you to “honor the Lord with your wealth” this week?
  • How could your giving become part of someone else’s story of hope?
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Every Hour, I Need Him

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Psalms 34:17 – The Lord hears His people when they call to Him for help. He rescues them from all their troubles.

Some days, even your own shoes feel too heavy.

That was me not long ago, dragging through the morning like I was wading through syrup. I wasn’t falling apart in some dramatic way—it was just the small stuff that piles up. Bills. Work. Loneliness. The creeping fear that maybe this is all life will ever be.

I sat in the car before heading inside, gripping the steering wheel like it might hold me together. I was praying, but not really. I was mostly just breathing.

Then, over the hum of my car’s speakers, Matt Maher’s song started: “Lord, I need You, oh, I need You; every hour I need You.”

Inside, my heart felt flooded with peace. I didn’t say anything. I just let the words wash over me, like water for my soul. I knew God was doing for my heart what I couldn’t.

Later, I looked up the story behind that song. Turns out, Maher had been asked to write something for a worship conference. He said the only way he could do it was by starting with what he himself needed.

So he sat down, thinking of old hymns and books read from C.S. Lewis, and out came that prayer of desperation set to melody. “Lord, I need You” was born from weakness.

That’s me. That’s us. Weak people, whispering weak prayers, and somehow finding strength to make it through one more hour.

And maybe that’s enough. Maybe that’s the point.

Because every hour, I need Him. And every hour, He’s already there.

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • When was the last time you felt too weary to pray—and how did God meet you anyway?
  • What small, quiet ways has God reminded you of His presence when life feels heavy?
  • How might weakness actually draw you closer to Him, rather than push you away?
  • Is there a song, verse, or memory that helps you remember you are never alone?

Lyrics

Lord I come, I confess
Bowing here, I find my rest
Without You, I fall apart
You’re the one that guides my heart

Lord, I need You, oh, I need You
Every hour, I need You
My one defense, my righteousness
Oh God, how I need You

Where sin runs deep, Your grace is more
Where grace is found is where You are
And where You are, Lord, I am free
Holiness is Christ in me

Lord, I need You, oh, I need You
Every hour, I need You
My one defense, my righteousness
Oh God, how I need You

So teach my song to rise to You
When temptation comes my way
And when I cannot stand, I’ll fall on You
Jesus, You’re my hope and stay

Lord, I need You, oh, I need You
Every hour, I need You
My one defense, my righteousness
Oh God, how I need You
You’re my one defense, my righteousness
Oh God, how I need You

My one defense, my righteousness
Oh God, how I need You

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From Brokenness to Blessing

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Hebrews 6:19-20 — This hope is a strong and trustworthy anchor for our souls. It leads us through the curtain into God’s inner sanctuary. Jesus has already gone in there for us. 

Eliza Hewitt was not used to silence. She had built her life around classrooms, chalkboards, and the steady hum of work. She liked being useful and always moving toward something.

But then the injury came, and life suddenly got quiet.

Days stretched out like long empty roads. Her body throbbed, her spirit became restless, and questions circled in her mind. Why me? What now? Where is God in all of this?

She would have traded anything for answers.

But as the days passed, Eliza started to read her Bible. This was not the casual kind of reading used to pass the time. No. She was desperate.

And in those long, slow hours, she saw things she had never noticed before. Words she had skimmed past now felt alive. Promises she had memorized now felt like they were written just for her.

She knew she was not just surviving this hardship. God was doing something in it.

One day she found herself humming an old tune she had started writing before everything changed. At the time, it was just another melody. Now, the words carried weight:

“When we all get to heaven, what a day of rejoicing that will be.”

Those days in Scripture had changed her. Hope was no longer abstract—it was a rock-solid anchor for her soul. It was what kept her steady when everything else felt unmoored.

When she finally released the song, it spread like wildfire. People who were hurting and searching found something in those words—something bigger than their pain.

Eliza never would have chosen her hardship, but looking back, she saw it clearly. Her pain had not been wasted. God had turned her silence into a song of hope, and it was too valuable to keep to herself.

That’s the thing about hope—it doesn’t just hold you steady; it gives you something to offer others.

Could it be that the very thing you are wrestling with right now is the story someone else needs to hear?

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • What hardship or “quiet season” has God used to deepen your hope in Him?
  • How has His Word become an anchor for your soul in times of uncertainty?
  • Who might need to hear the song of hope your story is still writing?

 

When We All Get to Heaven

Sing the wondrous love of Jesus
Sing His mercy and His grace
In the mansions, bright and blessed
He’ll prepare for us a place

When we all get to Heaven
What a day of rejoicing that will be
When we all see Jesus
We’ll sing and shout the victory

While we walk the pilgrim pathway
Clouds will overspread the sky
But when traveling days are over
Not a shadow, not a sigh

When we all get to Heaven
What a day of rejoicing that will be
When we all see Jesus
We’ll sing and shout the victory

Onward to the prize before us
Soon His beauty we’ll behold
Soon the pearly gates will open
And we shall tread the streets of gold

When we all get to Heaven
What a day of rejoicing that will be
When we all see Jesus
We’ll sing and shout the victory

(Words: Eliza E. Hewitt / Music: Emily D. Wilson / Arranged By: Mark Hall)

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Worth the Greatest Price

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1 Corinthians 6:20 – For God bought you with a high price. So you must honor God with your body. 

John’s dad had a favorite phrase. He told him often as he could.

“You aren’t worth one thin dime.”

He said it enough times that eventually John believed it. That phrase stuck with him and echoed in his brain. As John grew older, he couldn’t escape those words, and he became an angry, angry person.

By the time he was grown, the impact of his father’s words crept its way into John’s marriage. He couldn’t take it any longer, so he left. He did not believe he could ever be enough for them, so John took a passive role in his wife and son’s life.

In the separation, His estranged wife lent him the family van. The only problem was the radio. It was jammed, stuck on the Christian station. He slammed buttons and twisted knobs trying to make it stop playing.

Weeks went by. Months. Eventually, he quit fighting it and started listening.

Little by little, John’s heart softened. He came back home to his family and asked if they could start going to church. John stood in the water and was baptized.

For the first time in a long time, he felt like maybe his life could be worth something after all.

One day, John decided to clean underneath that car’s radio.

He pulled it out, and discovered why his radio was stuck. There, wedged beneath the preset button, was a single dime.

John just stared at it for a long time.

That same symbol that once represented worthlessness as a boy now told him something entirely different. The coin his earthly father used to define him had been used by his Heavenly Father to redeem him.

In that moment, John realized his worth was never up for debate. He life had been bought at the highest price—the life of God’s only Son.

He still carries that dime in his pocket as a reminder of the God who never stopped believing in him.

It makes me wonder — do you know you’re worth it, too?

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • Are there words from your past that still shape the way you see yourself?
  • How does knowing that you were “bought at a price” change the way you see your worth?
  • What’s one way you can remind yourself this week that your value comes from God—not anyone else’s opinion?
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Small Offerings, Big Impact

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1 Corinthians 3:6-7 — I planted the seeds in your hearts, and Apollos watered it, but it was God who made it grow. It’s not important who does the planting, or who does the watering. What important is that God makes the seed grow.

The first time I hosted Bible study at my little downtown rental, it felt like feeding five thousand men with a sack lunch.

The group had started with Trace and Jordan in an old warehouse in Bawcomville. They were the kind of leaders you look up to—the ones who make you believe God really can use ordinary people. But Trace was heading back to college, and Jordan was packing for Tennessee.

The study that had changed my life—teaching me freedom, confession, and brotherhood—was about to dissolve. I couldn’t let that happen.

I looked at my two-bedroom house and thought, I’ve got room. I can at least open the door.

So I did.

And thirty men crammed into my living room like sardines in a can. The air smelled like coffee and old sneakers, voices tumbled over each other, and the floorboards groaned under the weight of laughter and prayer. It was loud, crowded, messy—and it was holy ground.

But leadership wasn’t glamorous. Some nights were heavy. Preparation felt like work, and hosting went way too late into the evening. Yet other nights, the room buzzed with the unmistakable presence of God.

Men confessed secret struggles. Some found faith for the first time. Others discovered brothers who became closer than family. Darkness lost its power under the light of truth.

And I learned something. The miracle wasn’t in my ability to lead. It was in simply making room.

That’s how the kingdom works. God takes what little we can give—time, space, a shaky “yes”—and He multiplies it until lives are changed.

Paul once reminded the church in Corinth that believers should live differently than the world—choosing grace and reconciliation over division.

“The very fact that you have lawsuits among you means you have been completely defeated already. Why not rather be wronged? Why not rather be cheated?” — 1 Corinthians 6:7

In other words, sometimes the most powerful thing we can do is open our hands, make space, and trust God to move through it.

We bring our loaves and fish. He feeds the multitude.

And the glory is always His.

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • When has God used something small you offered—your time, space, or effort—to grow something bigger than you expected?
  • In what ways are you planting or watering in someone else’s life right now?
  • Are there areas where you need to trust God for the growth instead of trying to make it happen yourself?
  • How can you make room this week for God to move through your “yes”?
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Moments That Carry Faith

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2 Corinthians 5:7 – For we walk by faith, not by sight.

Seventeen years ago, I liked to pretend I had life mostly figured out as I danced through the chaos. Truthfully, I was lost and searching.

Back then, I worked in a New York City bar, wrapped up in a world that felt exciting and reckless but hollow underneath. Nights were for partying, Sundays for dragging myself to a church pew. Somehow, I convinced myself the two worlds could live side by side. Deep down, though, I was unraveling.

But God didn’t give up on me. He never does.

There were breadcrumbs along the way—little hints that He was near. One afternoon, a church service played on my television. The preacher said something so ordinary, yet it stopped me in my tracks: “Walk by faith, not by sight.”

I can’t explain why, but those words lit up my insides like a flare.

I grabbed a marker and scrawled them across my whiteboard. For the first time in a long while, I felt steady. Those words helped me shift my eyes away from the chaos and toward God.

Even in my mess, I began to believe He was still watching over me. Looking back now, I see how those breadcrumbs led me to finally say, “I’m done” with the party life—and to go all in with Jesus.

These days, I sit on the other side of that story, working in Christian radio. And I watch the same kind of thing happen every day.

A driver leaving the hospital. A weary commuter stuck in traffic. A mom sitting in the carpool line. Then a song comes on. Suddenly, it feels like God Himself has slid into the passenger seat. Listeners call us through tears to say it was exactly what they needed in that moment.

And you know what amazes me? Those moments aren’t magic. They are generosity. They happen because someone gave—someone believed it mattered to keep the music playing.

Never underestimate the ripple of giving. You may never see the full reach of your faith gift, but it matters.

Once, I needed a phrase on a whiteboard to survive my storm. Today, someone else might need the lyric of a song. And maybe—just maybe—that song is playing because of you.

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • What does it look like in your own life to “walk by faith, not by sight”?
  • Can you think of a “breadcrumb moment” when God showed you He was near, even in your mess?
  • How has someone else’s generosity or obedience impacted your faith journey?
  • Is there a step of faith God might be inviting you to take today—something that requires trust before the evidence appears?

 

LYRICS:

Would I believe you when you would say
Your hand will guide my every way?
Will I receive the words you say
Every moment of every day?

Well I will walk by faith
Even when I cannot see
Well because this broken road
Prepares your will for me

Help me to win my endless fears
You’ve been so faithful for all my years
With one breath you make me new
Your grace covers all I do, yeah, yeah, yeah yeah yeah

Well I will walk by faith
Even when I cannot see
Well because this broken road
Prepares your will for me

Well I’m broken, but I still see your face
Well you’ve spoken, pouring your words of grace

Well I will walk by faith
Even when I cannot see
Well, because this broken road
Prepares your will for me

Well I will walk by faith
Even when I cannot see
Oh well, because this broken road
Prepares your will for me

(Well hallelujah, hallelu)
(Well hallelujah) I will walk by faith, I will walk by faith
(Hallelu) I will walk by faith, I will walk by
(Well hallelujah, hallelu) yeah, yeah
(Well hallelujah, hallelu) yeah, yeah
(Well hallelujah, hallelu) yeah, I will walk, I will walk, whoa, I will walk by faith
(Well hallelujah, hallelu) I will, oh yeah, I will, well I will walk by faith
(Well hallelujah)

Music video by Jeremy Camp performing Walk By Faith (2020 Version).

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The Day Hope Came Back

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Romans 15:13 – I pray that the God, the source of hope, will fill you completely with joy and peace because you trust in Him. Then you will overflow with confident hope through the power of the Holy Spirit. 

“Enclosed is a check to sponsor one day of Hope. I will be mailing checks to you monthly.”

That is what Susan wrote on the card.

Hope. The word alone brought a lump to her throat.

Hope was her Cocker Spaniel. She had a coat like caramel and eyes that always seemed to understand. For years, she was with Susan for everything. Walks in the early morning. Long afternoons on the porch. The simple parts of life no one else really saw, she was there for them all.

When she passed away in January, she did not know what to do with the grief and stillness. For a while, the house felt unfamiliar. She would catch herself reaching for the leash, looking for Hope, and listening for her feet on the floor.

But even in the ache, Susan noticed something. Each morning, she would turn on Always Uplifting 88.7 The Cross. And somehow, the words that came through the speakers gave her something she did not know she needed. Not a distraction. Not a fix. Just a reminder that hope still had a place in her story.

As she listened, she began to see hope differently.

Real hope wasn’t just the name of her dog—it was the presence of Someone greater.

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him,
so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” — Romans 15:13

Now, by giving she wants to share that same hope with others.

You see, real hope is not sentimental. It is a Person who shows up when life falls apart. He is present on the good days and the bad. His name is Jesus, and if you have known Him in that way, you know He is worth sharing.

Is there someone who needs the same hope that carried you? You may not know their name. But just like Susan, you can still be part of the reason they keep going.

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