Ephesians 5:8 — For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Walk as children of light.

The dinosaur pajama top had Eli trapped, and his mom was having a harder time getting it off than she expected.

Every tug made Eli squirm, and his frustration bubbled up in every little squeal. So she started hiding her face behind the shirt and popping out with a grin. “Peekaboo!”

Eli’s laughter erupted like tiny fireworks, and his two teeth shone in a gummy smile. His shirt tugged, the game continued, and suddenly peekaboo was everything to him.

Soon, it grew into hide-and-seek. Eli and his older sister, Maya, ran through the house in a blur of giggles and fun. Eli, thinking he was clever, crouched behind the couch careful not to be seen.

Maya would count, loud and patient, then creep forward, calling, “Where’s Eli?” Her voice danced around him. And just when he thought he had escaped, she’d leap from around the corner with a triumphant, “I got you!” and his laughter would erupt again, unstoppable.

Eli thought he was hidden, but of course, he wasn’t. He was visible all along.

Sitting on the couch, watching them, his mom felt a sudden pang and tenderness. She recognized this behavior. It reminded her of all the ways people, including herself, try to hide their own struggles, mistakes, pain, shame, and fear.

We tuck them away like they’re fragile treasures, hoping no one will notice. Hoping somehow we can escape being found. But God sees. People see. And hiding never heals. It only delays the comfort and connection that we’re wanting and needing all along.

She thought about Adam and Eve hiding in the garden. Even back then, God was asking where they were. He knew, but all along, it was a tender invitation back to love.

Eli’s laughter echoed again. Maya’s shout bounced off the walls. And in that moment, surrounded by sunlight and giggles and the smell of pancakes, Mom felt the truth: life is better when we are found. So come into the light.

Scripture says in Ephesians 5:8, “For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Walk as children of light.”

So she leaned back and breathed in the noise, the chaos, the joy, the connection. Stop hiding, she thought. Let someone see. Let yourself be found.

Healing doesn’t start in secret. Healing starts in the laughter and the light. And when we finally stop hiding, the love that we wanted along can finally reach us.

 


A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • What “hiding places” do you run to when you feel afraid, ashamed, or unworthy?
  • How does it change your view of God to remember that His call to “come into the light” is an invitation, not a condemnation?
  • When have you experienced the relief of being fully seen and still loved?
  • Who in your life might need your encouragement to “come into the light”?
  • What’s one small step you can take today to be more open—with God, with others, or even with yourself?

Hebrews 11:1 — Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. 

Running was the only thing that made sense back then.

I was jogging down an unfamiliar road, lungs on fire, legs shaking, but none of that compared to what I was feeling on the inside.

This was twenty years ago, not long after Katrina. I was living in a place that didn’t feel like home, surrounded by streets that held no memories. I told myself the run would help clear my mind, but grief doesn’t work that way. You can’t outrun the ache of what’s been lost. Everything I knew—my city, my neighborhood, my entire life—had been swallowed up by water.

Each step reminded me that I was in a place I hadn’t chosen. But Hebrews 11:1 says, ‘Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.’ That day, I realized I had to trust God even when I couldn’t see the full picture.

Even now, when I think about the streets of New Orleans where I grew up, something still catches in my throat. That feeling of having “hometown” ripped away from you, deep down in my heart, I know I will always struggle with it.

But that morning, I had my earbuds in, half-listening to a playlist, when a new song came on. It was Casting Crowns’ “Praise You in This Storm.”

No, I didn’t have a huge emotional breaking point or anything that day on the track, but the verses really touched me. I remembered slowing my pace to a stop to listen to the words. During that break, I just let the powerful lyrics of that song wash over me and my pain.

“And I’ll praise You in this storm

And I will lift my hands

For You are who You are

No matter where I am…”

That song became a lifeline in those long, lonely days after the storm. The timing of it, how it showed up right when my faith felt like splinters, wasn’t coincidence. It was God’s grace.

It was as if God Himself whispered, “I know what you see, but I need you to see Me in this too.”

And somehow, I did. Not through my eyes—they still saw devastation—but through a confidence that He was still good, still present, and still holding me when everything else had fallen apart.

Have you ever watched something crumble all around you like that and think “there’s no way good can come from this?” And yet, deep down, a small voice tells you to believe anyway?

That’s God, and that’s faith. It’s the unseen hope that carries you when you can’t carry yourself. And the remarkable thing is, God never leaves you there.

He keeps writing a better story, even when the page you’re on looks nothing like the ending you hoped for.

 


A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • Have you ever faced a situation where you couldn’t see the outcome, yet felt God prompting you to trust Him? How did you respond?
  • Hebrews 11:1 speaks of faith as “the assurance of things hoped for.” What are some “things hoped for” in your life that require faith to hold onto?
  • How has music, prayer, or another form of encouragement helped you experience God’s presence in unseen ways?
  • What does it look like for you to praise God “in the storm” rather than only when things are calm?
  • How might you remind yourself of God’s unseen work when your circumstances feel overwhelming or uncertain?

Lyrics:

I was sure by now, God you would have reached down
And wiped our tears away,
Stepped in and saved the day.
But once again, I say amen
That it’s still raining
As the thunder rolls
I barely hear your whisper through the rain
I’m with you
And as your mercy falls
I raise my hands and praise
The God who gives and takes away

And I’ll praise you in this storm
And I will lift my hands
That you are who you are
No matter where I am
And every tear I’ve cried
You hold in your hand
You never left my side
And though my heart is torn
I will praise you in this storm

I remember when I stumbled in the wind
You heard my cry you raised me up again
My strength is almost gone how can I carry on
If I can’t find you
As the thunder rolls
I barely hear you whisper through the rain
I’m with you
And as your mercy falls
I raise my hands and praise
The God who gives and takes away

And I’ll praise you in this storm
And I will lift my hands
That you are who you are
No matter where I am
And every tear I’ve cried
You hold in your hand
You never left my side
And though my heart is torn
I will praise you in this storm

I lift my eyes unto the hills
Where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord
The maker of heaven and earth
I lift my eyes unto the hills
Where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord
The maker of heaven and earth

And I’ll praise you in this storm
And I will lift my hands
That you are who you are
No matter where I am
And every tear I’ve cried
You hold in your hand
You never left my side
And though my heart is torn
I will praise you in this storm

And though my heart is torn
I will praise you in this storm

Written by: Mark Hall, Bernie Herms

Ephesians 5:1-2 Imitate God, therefore, in everything you do, because you are His dear children. Live a life filled with love, following the example of Christ. He loved us and offered Himself as a sacrifice for us, a pleasing aroma to God.

I can still see her face.

She was a young girl from Venezuela—quiet, reserved, sitting among a crowd of American teenagers who barely noticed her.

She had come with a visiting missions team to help us prepare for a trip to her country. Later, I learned she didn’t even own proper clothes for the journey. Someone had to buy her something suitable to wear.

That Wednesday night, she slipped into our youth group meeting and took a seat in the back. Hands folded neatly in her lap. Eyes down.

No one greeted her. Not one person leaned over to ask her name. Conversations carried on like they always did—some girls whispered about what others were wearing, others laughed about their plans for Friday night.

And there she sat—still, quiet, listening. Then, when the music started, she watched as all those same girls who had ignored her moments before raised their hands high in worship.

It’s funny—Ephesians 5:1–2 tells us to “Imitate God, therefore, in everything you do, because you are His dear children. Live a life filled with love, following the example of Christ.” That night, I realized how easy it is to worship with our lips but forget to love with our actions.

Later, her team leader invited her to speak. She walked to the front, her steps soft but sure, and began to pray in Spanish. Her voice trembled—not with fear, but with reverence. Every word seemed to hum with sincerity, filling the room. Even without a translation, we could feel it.

Then she began to speak in English—clear, gentle, and steady. And the room went still. That’s when it hit us: she had heard everything said earlier. Every careless word. Every unkind comment.

Yet there she stood—with grace.

Her voice was warm. Her message hopeful. She spoke of love, of faith, of service, and invited us to come to her country.

That moment changed me. I saw how easy it is to talk about God’s love without actually showing it. Her faith wasn’t something she wore—it was something she lived.

Real faith isn’t proven by what we say or sing. It’s proven by how we love the person standing right in front of us. Because when we love like that young woman did, we’re imitating the heart of Jesus Himself—the One who loved us first and offered Himself completely for us.

That’s where people begin to see Jesus for who He really is.

— Mark Hall, Casting Crowns

 


A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • Have you ever missed an opportunity to show love because you were focused elsewhere? How might God be calling you to slow down and see people this week?
  • Ephesians 5:1–2 invites us to “live a life filled with love.” What does that look like in practical terms in your home, workplace, or church?
  • When was the last time you saw someone live out Christ’s love in a way that challenged or inspired you?
  • How can you make your faith visible through kindness, humility, or inclusion today?
  • Who in your life might need to feel God’s love through your actions right now?

L Y R I C S

It’s crowded in worship today
As she slips in trying to fade into the faces
The girls’ teasing laughter is carrying farther than they know
Farther than they know

But if we are the body
Why aren’t His arms reaching?
Why aren’t His hands healing?
Why aren’t His words teaching?
If we are the body
Why aren’t His feet going?
Why is His love not showing them there is a way?
‘Cause there is a way

A traveler is far away from home
And he sheds His coat and quietly sinks into the back row
The weight of their judgmental glances
Tells him that His chances are better out on the road

But if we are the body
Why aren’t His arms reaching?
Why aren’t His hands healing?
Why aren’t His words teaching?
If we are the body
Why aren’t His feet going?
Why is His love not showing them there is a way?

‘Cause Jesus paid much too high a price
For us to pick and choose who should come
We are the body of Christ

If we are the body
Why aren’t His arms reaching?
Why aren’t His hands healing?
Why aren’t His words teaching?
If we are the body
Why aren’t His feet going?
Why is His love not showing them there is a way?
Jesus is the way
Ooh, ooh
Jesus is the way
Ooh, ooh

Writers: Mark Hall

© 2003 My Refuge Music / Be Essential Songs (BMI)

1 Peter 5:10 — And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to His eternal glory in Christ, will Himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.

Growth can be uncomfortable. I am learning this from my eight-month-old son, Lennox. His teeth are popping up seemingly out of nowhere. He is usually a happy baby, but lately, I have noticed him needing more comfort than usual.

He gnaws on his toy, fusses against my shoulder, and cries though nothing seems to help. Watching him struggle is so hard, and as a mom, I wish I could take the pain away.

Deep down, I know that this discomfort is actually good for him in the long term. It means something new is coming. Teeth! And as I look at him, I see myself.

Because sometimes faith can feel just like this.

You pray for change, and it comes, but not the way you expect. It comes through stretching, through waiting, and through unexpected pain.

In those moments, I think of what 1 Peter 5:10 promises: “And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to His eternal glory in Christ, will Himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.”

I pick Lennox up, rock him gently, and hold him close. His small body is tense, but gradually he begins to relax. Watching him finally fall asleep, I think about how growth is not always easy, but the struggle is part of the process.

So, let this be your reminder that the discomfort you feel might actually be a sign that you are about to breakthrough. Something is pressing and happening, slowly but surely, just beneath the surface of the struggle.

If you are in that place now, tired from all the stretching and aching, hold on a little longer. Sometimes discomfort really means “you’re almost there.”

Growth hurts but it matters. And your breakthrough is right around the corner.

 


A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • What kind of “growing pains” are you walking through right now—spiritual, emotional, or relational?
  • How does 1 Peter 5:10 encourage you to see your current struggle as part of a greater story of restoration and strength?
  • When have you experienced God “holding” you through a painful season, much like Bri held her son?
  • What might “trusting the process” look like for you this week, even if you can’t yet see the purpose behind the discomfort?
  • Can you think of a time when what once hurt deeply later became a place of strength or testimony?

Proverbs 16:9 – The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps.

I thought I knew exactly what God wanted me to do. Bible school—it made perfect sense. I had the passion, the calling, the dream.

I could already see myself there sitting in class, buried in Scripture, and surrounded by people who wanted to serve God too. It felt so right.

So I chased it. I filled out the forms, picked up extra shifts, and prayed the kind of bold prayers that come trembling out of the heart, and for a while, everything seemed to be falling into place.

Until it wasn’t.

One thing after another began to unravel. A door closed. Then another. And another. The dream that once felt close enough to touch now seemed a thousand miles away.

I told myself it was just a delay, not a denial. But deep down, I was frustrated. I’d done everything “right,” and it still fell apart. People would say things like, “It must not be God’s timing.” I knew they meant well, but it didn’t help much.

One night, I sat on the front steps in the quiet, staring at the streetlights, just trying to make sense of it all. I had no words left to pray. My heart ached from wanting something so good so badly.

And then, somewhere in that stillness, a thought came that changed everything.

Maybe God wasn’t holding back or punishing me.

Maybe He was protecting me.

Maybe what felt like the end of a dream was really the beginning of trust.

It took time for that truth to sink in. But when it did, I began to see how those closed doors were good. God wasn’t ignoring me. He was redirecting me toward something better than I had planned.

And truth be told, nearly a decade later, God did open the door for me to attend Bible school at just the right time.

Something I have learned through all of this is that surrender isn’t giving up. It’s simply making room.

That’s why I really love what the book of Proverbs teaches. “The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps.”

And maybe that’s what faith really looks like—not clinging to what we think should happen, but trusting that even our disappointments are being folded into something good.

If you find yourself staring at a door that won’t open, too, take heart. The God who closed it hasn’t gone anywhere. He still writes better stories than we do, and sometimes the best ones begin with a “not now.”

 


A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • Think of a time when your plans didn’t go the way you hoped. Looking back, can you see how God might have been protecting or redirecting you?
  • Proverbs 16:9 reminds us that while we make our plans, it’s the Lord who establishes our steps. What steps are you trying to control right now that you might need to release to Him?
  • “Surrender isn’t giving up—it’s making room.” What would it look like for you to make more room for God’s direction in your daily decisions?
  • When disappointment hits, what helps you remember that God’s “not now” doesn’t mean “never”?
  • Is there a door in your life that’s currently closed? What might it look like to trust that God still has His hand on the handle?

Psalm 37:5Commit everything you do to the LORD. Trust Him, and He will help you.

Mark was never one for church. He liked his weekends quiet, his plans organized, and his problems solved on his own terms. But when his marriage ended, all that order fell apart. The walls of his apartment started to feel smaller, the silence heavier. He could fix a lot of things, but not this.

One night, he went for a drive just to escape the stillness. He passed a small church with its lights glowing against the dark. Something about it made him stop.

Inside, a man offered him coffee, a woman smiled, and nobody asked him to explain himself. He did not realize it then, but that was the first thing that felt right in a long time.

The next Sunday, someone remembered his name. That simple act did more for him than a thousand sermons could have.

As the weeks went on, he started to listen. One Sunday, the pastor spoke about grace—not as something you earn, but something that finds you when your life has gone sideways. He thought about how hard he had worked to hold it all together, how tired he was of pretending.

After the service, he stayed in his seat. The sanctuary was nearly empty. He whispered a few words under his breath. Nothing rehearsed, nothing grand. Just surrender.

“Okay, Jesus.” He said, “I’m yours.”

He walked out the same doors, but something inside was different. The world did not look fixed, but it felt lighter. And maybe that was the point.

Psalm 37:5 teaches us, “Commit your way to the Lord; trust in Him, and He will act. So, Maybe faith is not about having all the answers. Maybe it is about discovering the one who never needed you to.

 


A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • Can you think of a time when you reached the end of yourself and had no choice but to surrender? What happened when you finally let go?
  • Psalm 37:5 calls us to commit our way to the Lord. What might it look like for you to hand Him something you’ve been trying to control?
  • In Mark’s story, it wasn’t a sermon that moved him—it was kindness and being remembered. How has someone’s simple act of love pointed you back to God?
  • What area of your life still feels “unfixed”? How might trusting God with it bring peace, even before you see the outcome?
  • Surrender can sound scary, but what if it’s really freedom? What would trusting God more fully look like for you this week?

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

There is something about Louisiana in the fall that feels like home. The air smells faintly of roasted peanuts and dew, and the sky burns orange just before the lights come on at Malone Stadium.

This was the big kickoff to high school football season, Bayou Jam, and folks from every corner of our region had come out to fill the stands.

I found my seat among the chatter and brass-band energy, letting my eyes wander down to the field. There she was on the sidelines—one of the cheerleaders soaring high into the air. My niece. My reason for being there.

She has been a cheerleader since ninth grade, and now it is her senior year. Watching her there, so full of joy and confidence, I felt a swell of pride. See, I do not have children of my own, but my nieces and nephews might as well be. And she has grown into such a remarkable young woman—steady, kind, and ready for whatever comes next.

It made me think back to my own senior year, that strange in-between season when you stand on the edge of adulthood with a thousand voices telling you who to be. Life pulls at you from every direction. But when I look at her, I see someone who knows her worth, even when the world tries to test it.

Sitting there, I realized something simple but true: we all need people who cheer us on.

Maybe you are not the one out on the field or flipping through the air, but everyone has the chance to stand in the crowd and shout, “You’ve got this!” That kind of encouragement carries people farther than we know — and Scripture reminds us to do exactly that.

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

Friend, this life is a lot like Bayou Jam—full of noise and nerves and bright lights. But the victories feel sweeter when we know someone else is cheering for us from the stands.

That is what I believe we are all called to do: keep showing up, keep encouraging, keep believing the best. After all, who knows what strength our words might give to someone who just needs to know we are in their corner?

 


A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • Who are the “cheerleaders” in your life — the people who have encouraged you when you needed it most?
  • Think about someone who might need your encouragement this week. What’s one simple way you could cheer them on?
  • 1 Thessalonians 5:11 reminds us to “encourage one another and build one another up.” What does “building someone up” look like in your daily life?
  • When was a time someone’s belief in you gave you strength or courage you didn’t know you had?
  • How might your words today help someone else feel seen, valued, and supported — even in small, quiet ways?

2 Corinthians 10:5 — We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ.

The baby was asleep on my chest, his little fingers curled around my shirt. The kind of grip that makes you not want to move, even if your arm goes numb. Sunlight slipped through the curtains and stretched across the floor.

The house was quiet for once. There was no monitor beeping, no laundry cycling. It was just the slow, steady rhythm of breathing between the two of us.

You’d think that kind of peace would settle a person’s mind. But mine didn’t seem to get the memo.

I was in postpartum, and even in the calm, there was noise. Not the kind you can shush with a lullaby—just thoughts that crept in uninvited. Some were small, like wondering if I’d fed him long enough. Others were heavier, the kind that made me question if I was cut out for this at all.

One afternoon, I sat cross-legged on the living room floor surrounded by burp cloths and bottles and baby socks that never seemed to match. I remember feeling like I was drowning in my own head. Then, almost out of nowhere, I remembered something my pastor once said:

“You don’t have to believe every thought that passes through your mind.”

It sounded too simple to help, but it did. I closed my eyes right there, took a deep breath, and whispered a quiet thank-you to God. The longer I sat with that truth, the lighter it felt.

I realized I’d been treating every anxious thought like it was the voice of reason. But not everything I think deserves to be treated like the truth.

So I decided to start paying attention. When a thought came that sounded harsh or afraid, I held it up to what I knew about God and His Word. If it didn’t sound like Him—if it didn’t carry peace or mercy—I’d let it go. If it did, I’d hold onto it. That was my new rule.

That’s when 2 Corinthians 10:5 came to mind — “We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ.”

So I decided to start paying attention. When a thought came that sounded harsh or afraid, I held it up to what I knew about God and His Word. If it didn’t sound like Him—if it didn’t carry peace or mercy—I’d let it go. If it did, I’d hold onto it. That was my new rule.

It wasn’t perfect. No, some days I forgot. Some days I didn’t have the strength to test a single thought. But little by little, the noise started to fade.

Now, the house is far from quiet. There are still toys everywhere, cries from the monitor, and always some responsibility to handle. But my mind? It feels steady again. Not because the thoughts stopped coming, but because I finally learned which ones to believe.

And maybe that’s something you need too. Maybe your mind has been chaotic lately, and you don’t know what to do. If so, start small. Trade one anxious word for one good one.

And do it again tomorrow. Because God’s words have a way of clearing the clutter. They always do.

 


A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • What kind of thoughts tend to take up the most space in your mind during stressful seasons?
  • How does 2 Corinthians 10:5 challenge the way you think about your inner thought life?
  • When you feel anxious or unworthy, what truth from God’s Word can you use to “take that thought captive”?
  • Can you remember a time when replacing a fearful thought with God’s truth brought peace to your heart?
  • What’s one small step you can take today to filter your thoughts through faith instead of fear?

Ephesians 5:1-2 — Imitate God, therefore, in everything you do, because you are His dear children. Live a life filled with love, following the example of Christ. He loved us and offered Himself as a sacrifice for us, a pleasing aroma to God.

I can still see her face.

She was a young girl from Venezuela—quiet, reserved, sitting among a crowd of American teenagers who barely noticed her.

She had come with a visiting missions team to help us prepare for a trip to her country. Later, I learned she didn’t even own proper clothes for the journey. Someone had to buy her something suitable to wear.

That Wednesday night, she slipped into our youth group meeting and took a seat in the back. Hands folded neatly in her lap. Eyes down.

No one greeted her. Not one person leaned over to ask her name. Conversations carried on like they always did—some girls whispered about what others were wearing, others laughed about their plans for Friday night.

And there she sat—still, quiet, listening. Then, when the music started, she watched as all those same girls who had ignored her moments before raised their hands high in worship.

It’s funny—Ephesians 5:1–2 tells us to “Imitate God, therefore, in everything you do, because you are His dear children. Live a life filled with love, following the example of Christ.” That night, I realized how easy it is to worship with our lips but forget to love with our actions.

Later, her team leader invited her to speak. She walked to the front, her steps soft but sure, and began to pray in Spanish. Her voice trembled—not with fear, but with reverence. Every word seemed to hum with sincerity, filling the room. Even without a translation, we could feel it.

Then she began to speak in English—clear, gentle, and steady. And the room went still. That’s when it hit us: she had heard everything said earlier. Every careless word. Every unkind comment.

Yet there she stood—with grace.

Her voice was warm. Her message hopeful. She spoke of love, of faith, of service, and invited us to come to her country.

That moment changed me. I saw how easy it is to talk about God’s love without actually showing it. Her faith wasn’t something she wore—it was something she lived.

Real faith isn’t proven by what we say or sing. It’s proven by how we love the person standing right in front of us. Because when we love like that young woman did, we’re imitating the heart of Jesus Himself—the One who loved us first and offered Himself completely for us.

That’s where people begin to see Jesus for who He really is.

— Mark Hall

 


A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • Have you ever missed an opportunity to show love because you were focused elsewhere? How might God be calling you to slow down and see people this week?
  • Ephesians 5:1–2 invites us to “live a life filled with love.” What does that look like in practical terms in your home, workplace, or church?
  • When was the last time you saw someone live out Christ’s love in a way that challenged or inspired you?
  • How can you make your faith visible through kindness, humility, or inclusion today?
  • Who in your life might need to feel God’s love through your actions right now?

2 Thessalonians 3:3But the Lord is faithful; He will strengthen you and guard you from the evil one.

Some mornings test your faith before the coffee’s even brewed.

It was Sunday. I had been invited to speak at Stark Baptist Church, and I wanted to show up calm, confident, and put together. But my new old house had other ideas.

I had only moved in the night before, and as I stood in the bathroom with my curling iron in hand, I realized there was no outlet. Not one. And to top it off, there was not even a mirror.

I stared at the empty wall like it had betrayed me. Then I texted my friend Leslie, who is a hairdresser. She’s the kind of woman who can fix anything.

“Bring every tool you own,” I told her. “I’m getting ready at the church.”

She sent back about ten laughing emojis, and I tried to laugh too. But that laugh stopped when I walked outside. My car tire was flat as a pancake.

I stood there in my driveway, looking at it like it might un-flatten out of guilt.

“Really?” I said. “This is how we’re starting the day?”

Leslie called. “Girl, you better start singing that song ‘Get Behind Me.’”

So, I did. Right there, still in my driveway, I sang Emerson Day’s lyric’s out loud. I even threw in, “Not today, Satan. Not tomorrow either. Move along, Sparky.”

And just like that, something in me unclenched. The morning didn’t change. I still had a flat tire, no mirror, and a talk to give, but my heart did feel peace. The worry lost its grip, and the humor came back.

Sometimes faith looks like standing in your driveway with a flat tire, choosing to laugh instead of panic. Sometimes it looks like telling trouble to take a hike.

I made it to church that day. But more than that, I made it through the morning without losing my peace—and that, I think, is the kind of victory worth holding onto.

2 Thessalonians 3:3 says, “But the Lord is faithful. He will establish you and guard you against the evil one.”

So, friend, when your day starts falling apart, just take a breath. Find your footing and tell trouble where to go. And keep your peace right where it belongs.

 


A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • Think about a recent morning or moment that didn’t go as planned. How did you respond—panic, frustration, or peace?
  • 2 Thessalonians 3:3 reminds us that “the Lord is faithful.” How have you seen God’s faithfulness guard or steady you when things felt chaotic?
  • When life feels like one thing after another, what helps you keep your peace anchored in God rather than your circumstances?
  • Humor played a big role in Tammi’s story—how might joy and laughter be an act of faith in your own challenges?
  • What practical “not today, Satan” step could you take this week when things start to fall apart—something that helps you pause, breathe, and choose peace?

Lyrics:

When fear like a viper strikes
And worry starts to creep
I know that ain’t my Father’s voice
I could only be
That liar in my ear
Trying to make me believe
But I’m calling him out in the name of the Lord
Listen when I speak

Devil get behind me
Run on home
Back to the grave where you belong
In case you forgot
Let me tell you the truth
You’re stuck under my blood-bought boots!
Devil get behind me
You got no hold
I’ve been changed by the Holy Ghost
Try all you want but it ain’t no use
You’re stuck under my blood-bought boots

Get behind me!
Get behind me! Devil get behind me!

The same power that raised my Savior
Is the power that lives in me
So if you wanna pick a fight
You better think twice
Cause He’s got an angel army!

Devil get behind me
Run on home
Back to the grave where you belong
In case you forgot
Let me tell you the truth
You’re stuck under my blood-bought boots!
Devil get behind me
You got no hold
I’ve been changed by the Holy Ghost
Try all you want but it ain’t no use
You’re stuck under my blood-bought boots

Get behind me!
Get behind me!
Devil get behind me!
In the name of the Lord
In the name of the Lord

Devil get behind me in the name of the Lord
Devil get behind me in the name of the Lord
Devil get behind me in the name of the Lord
In the name of the Lord!

Devil get behind me
Run on home
Back to the grave where you belong
Just in case you forgot the truth
You’re stuck under my blood-bought boots!
Devil get behind me
You got no hold
I’ve been changed by the Holy Ghost
Try all you want but it ain’t no use
You’re stuck under my blood-bought boots

Get behind me!
Get behind me!
Devil get behind me!
In the name of the Lord!