Psalm 62:8 – Trust in him at all times, O people; pour out your heart before him; God is a refuge for us.

Kara slammed her Bible shut and whispered under her breath, “I can’t do this anymore.”

From the outside, no one would have guessed she was struggling. She had been showing up—smiling, hosting Bible study, bringing snacks to the women’s retreat. But her heart had grown tired. Bitter, even. And underneath the surface, there was a kind of anger she did not want to admit.

She was not angry at people. Not even at herself. But at God.

Kara didn’t grow up in a home where you told God you were mad. No, you honored Him. You trusted Him. You got over it. So instead of admitting how she felt, she shoved it down and piled good works on top of it. But the weight of pretending started to wear her out.

She never said it out loud. Not until one evening, alone in her bedroom, when she snapped her Bible shut.

“I’m doing everything right,” She shouted. “So why do You feel so far away? God, I’m mad at you.”

For a moment, she braced herself—for guilt or for more of God’s silence. But no, that’s not what happened. She felt like God was saying, I know.

For the first time in a long time, she wasn’t pushing Him away with her pain. She was bringing her pain to Him. That small act—saying what she really felt—became the first step back toward trusting God.

And she realized something: God had never left. He was not disappointed in her for feeling human.

She did not forgive God because He was wrong. He wasn’t. But she let go of the silent resentment she felt toward Him that had built up between them.

Maybe you’re there, too. Maybe your prayers feel empty, and your faith feels thin. Maybe you’re carrying anger, confusion, or grief that you don’t know how to let go of. God is not afraid of your emotions—no matter how messy, no matter how raw. All you need to do is come as you are. He can take it.

Psalm 119:105 – “Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.”

I had owned the van for almost a year before I finally learned how to use one of its best features.

The van was a gift from my parents — practical, clean, dependable. And, according to them, it had remote start. “You’ll love it once it gets cold,” they told me.

Well, I tried. I really did. I stood in the driveway and pressed all the buttons
 nothing. The lights blinked, but the engine never started. I pressed them again. Still nothing. Just silence.

After a few tries, I figured it was broken. Maybe something disconnected when they passed it down to me. Whatever it was, I stopped bothering with it. I was too embarrassed to admit I didn’t know what I was doing. I just acted like I had it all under control.

And then — almost a year later — winter came again, and my mom said, “Isn’t that remote start the best?” And I knew I could not fake it anymore. I went home and pulled finally did what I should have done a year ago: I opened the manual.

It took me less than sixty seconds to find it. Press the lock button twice. That’s it. I ran outside and tried it, and the van started right up. Just like that.

I could not help but laugh. All this time, the answer was sitting in my glove box. I just had not taken the time to look.

And then I felt a deeper sting — the kind that hits when God quietly shows you yourself.

How often have I approached life like that? Trying things on my own, assuming I am broken or that something is not working, when really
 I just haven’t opened His Word?

God has already spoken. He has already given direction. The Bible is not a riddle or a guilt trip. It is His voice: steady, trustworthy, close. If life feels stuck, you are not alone. But do not stay stuck. Open the instructions He has already given you.

Proverbs 24:16 – “For the righteous falls seven times and rises again, but the wicked stumble in times of calamity.”

Hadassah sat at the top of the hill, gripping her handlebars with all the confidence in the world. Her legs bounced with excitement, her feet barely staying on the pedals. I crouched beside her.

“You ready?” I asked, resting a steadying hand on her back.

She nodded eagerly. “I’m ready, Daddy!”

“Okay,” I said. “Just remember—”

But before I could finish, she launched forward, her laughter trailing behind like a banner. For a few glorious seconds, she was weightless. Fearless.

And then I saw it—the hesitation in her shoulders, the slight panic in her grip.

She did not know how to stop.

“Hadassah!” My voice cut through the air. “Squeeze the brakes!”

She didn’t. Instead, her feet shot out, dragging against the road.

“Not your shoes!” I winced. “Those are brand new!”

Her bike wobbled and swerved, and then she crashed. I was running before she hit the ground. By the time I reached her, she was crumpled in a heap. Her scraped knees were pulled up to her chest, and hot tears spilled down her cheeks.

I knelt, scooping her into my arms. “Oh, sweetheart. I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

Her sobs hiccupped as she clung to me. I held her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“That was scary, huh?”

She gave the tiniest nod. I squeezed her a little tighter. “I know. But you were so brave.”

She sniffled. “I didn’t know how to stop.”

I smiled, smoothing a hand over her back. “That’s okay. You’ll get it. You’re still learning, and that’s what matters.”

And isn’t that how life goes? We take off, thinking we have got everything figured out. We stumble. We fall. We scrape ourselves up in ways we never saw coming.

But, every single time, our Heavenly Father comes running.

Not with anger. But with arms open wide. His grace meets us in the dirt, not with disappointment, but with love.

Hadassah would ride again, and next time, she’d remember how to stop. And when life throws you and me off balance and we stumble, I believe we will too because…

 “You’re still learning, and that’s what matters.”

“The Lord is my strength and my shield; in Him my heart trusts, and I am helped; my heart exults, and with my song I give thanks to Him.”

Psalms 28:7

I wiped my forehead, squinting up at the sun. I had only mowed half the yard, but my arms already felt like jelly.

It was a game I played with myself—how long could I go before flipping on the automatic drive? At first, it felt like a challenge, something to prove. But now? Now, it felt ridiculous.

“This is for the birds,” I muttered, flipping the switch.

The mower surged forward like it had been waiting for me to give in. Effortless. Smooth. I barely had to touch it.

And that is when it hit me.

How many times had I done this in life? How often did I push through and strain under the weight of stress, worry, and control—when all along, there was power far greater than my own, just waiting for me to surrender?

I had wasted so much energy. So much time fighting battles in my own strength, when God had never asked me to.

I finished the yard, but I could not shake the thought. Because the truth was, I was not the only one struggling.

People all around me were pushing through life exhausted, just like I had been with that mower. And maybe they just needed someone to remind them that there was a better way. That God’s power was not something to reach for as a last resort but something to rely on every single day.

Maybe you have been pushing too hard, too. Maybe someone you know is quietly struggling, thinking they have to handle life alone.

But they don’t. And neither do you.

Let go of the struggle. Flip the switch and show others they can too because God’s power is already here.

“And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to His purpose.”

Romans 8:28

I meant well. I really did. I had spent the afternoon helping my uncle around his house—fixing small things, making conversation, just being there. It was the least I could do after everything he had been through.

As I grabbed my keys and turned to leave, I threw out a casual, “God bless you.”

Without skipping a beat, he pointed at his amputated leg and said, “I think God has blessed me enough.”

Cue the longest, most painful silence of my life.

Eventually, I muttered, “Alright, well
 see ya,” and practically sprinted out the door.

The moment clung to me the rest of the day. Wow, I really got that wrong. I had no clue what my uncle actually believed about God. And yet, here I was, confidently acting like we had been having deep spiritual conversations for years.

But even though I misread the moment entirely, I could not shake the truth: God is good. Even when life does not look like it. Even when it hands you something you never would have chosen.

Maybe my uncle does not believe that right now. Maybe you are not sure either. But what if the very things that feel like the hardest parts of your story are the places where God is working the most? What if—despite everything—He is still turning broken things into something good?

Because I believe He is. And I hope one day my uncle does, too.

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

James 5:12

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God.”

Colossians 3:16

The satisfying pop of a Coke Zero can opening echoed through the room as I sank into my favorite chair, Bible in hand. I had promised myself to finish the entire Bible in 90 days, and the clock was ticking.

The first week, I felt unstoppable. My pen flew across the pages of my journal, marking progress like a marathon runner tracking miles. But by week three, it started to feel like a chore. I was checking off chapters, but nothing was sinking in.

One morning, I hit a wall. I had barely started when a single verse stopped me in my tracks. It was as if the words were waiting for me, insisting I pause. So, I did. I set the plan aside and let myself dwell on that verse.

That was the day everything changed. Now, I read differently. Each morning, I let the words come to life. I write down what stands out, no matter how small. Some days, I read chapters; others, just a line. It is not about finishing anymore—it is about hearing Him.

Friend, if you have ever felt unworthy because you cannot keep up with a plan, take heart. It is not a race. God is not asking you to read faster or do more. He is simply asking you to show up and be present with Him.

What step could you take today to meet with God in His Word, one day at a time?

 

“Keep your heart with all vigilance, for from it flow the springs of life.”

Proverbs 4:23

The water leak was so small, I hardly noticed it at first. It was a slow drip, hidden away in the basement bathroom my kids used. Out of sight, out of mind.

It was easy to ignore—until the water company sent a letter. That “no big deal” was costing me a lot more than I thought. Suddenly, that slow drip had turned into an expensive issue I could not ignore.

We called a plumber, and within ten minutes, the leak was fixed. The bathroom was dry, and everything seemed normal again. But standing there, I could not shake the thought: how often do I let small problems slide until they grow into something much harder to handle?’

Fixing the leak in the bathroom was simple, but it reminded me to pay attention—not just to my home but to my heart. The truth is, life is full of “small leaks.” Little compromises, unhelpful habits, and unchecked attitudes. I want to face these things head-on before they spiral out of control.

Maybe you need that reminder too. What in your life could use your focus right now? Take some time today to stop, reflect, and make a change before the drip becomes a flood.

“Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.”

James 1:2-4

Public speaking terrifies most people, but not my five-year-old daughter. At her class recital, she was thrilled to step up to the microphone and recite her poem in front of parents, teachers, and classmates.

She began beautifully, reciting the first part with ease. She paused before continuing, but the audience assumed she had finished and began clapping. With all the confidence of a kindergartner, she declared, “I’m not done yet.”

The crowd erupted in laughter, and so did I, but then her expression shifted. Tears welled up in her eyes.

My wife and I froze, unsure of what to do. Should we step in and comfort her? My heart ached as I watched her crumble under the weight of the moment. I wanted to rush in, to hold her, to fix it all. But something held me back.

Her teacher gently stepped in, putting an arm around her shoulder and walking her back to her seat. She wiped her tears, and after a few deep breaths, she was herself again.

That moment really tugged at my heart. But I realized something: she was safe, and this was not something I needed to fix.

Life is filled with hard and uncomfortable moments like these. I was reminded of how God allows us to walk through life’s tough moments, not because He is distant but because He knows growth often follows struggle.

I am learning how sometimes the best thing I can do for my kids, family members, and friends is to take a step back when the moment calls for it. You can always trust that God can use the struggles to grow something beautiful in time.