Growth is Pressing Through

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James 1:4 — So let it grow, for when your endurance is fully developed, you will be perfect and complete, needing nothing.

Sometimes growth hurts in ways you’d never expect.

I’m sitting in the pediatric office with Lennox, trying to look calm while he squirms in my arms. He’s here for a follow-up on a little ear infection. The nurse checks him. The doctor does too, and everything seems fine. No fluid. No infection. Still, he keeps tugging at his ears like they’re bothering him.

I frown. “Well, if there’s nothing wrong with his ears, what is going on?”

The doctor smiles and keeps investigating. She shines her little magical flashlight in his mouth, tilts her head, and says, “Oh… yep. His top teeth are super swollen. They are about to break through.”

I try to picture what that even looks like. Teeth? Ear pain? How is that connected?

She laughs at my expression. “A lot of times, that will cause pain in the ears,” she explains.

I nod slowly, the dots connecting. It’s in his mouth, but it’s pulling at his ears. Growth in one part of his body is actually having a ripple effect outward to other parts of his body.

I sit back and think, quietly, “Okay, Lord. I see it now.”

Sometimes that’s how spiritual growth feels like too. For example, if God starts to grow us in patience, He might challenge us to swallow our pride and love difficult people. But take heart. James 1:4 says, “So let it grow, for when your endurance is fully developed, you will be perfect and complete, needing nothing.”

Just like Lennox’s teeth, the Lord is working in places we might not expect. Patience grows, but it can tug at our thoughts, our moods, and our reactions. Love stretches us, but sometimes that stretching feels tight in our hearts or minds. The discomfort isn’t random. The tugging isn’t accidental. It’s proof that change is happening, slow and steady, shaping us into completeness we can’t yet see.

I watch Lennox chew on his finger, ears still a little red, and I realize—in life we have to trust the process, even when we don’t understand the discomfort. The tugging doesn’t mean we’re broken. It means something is pushing through, and once it’s fully in place, the rest will make sense.

So maybe the question isn’t why it hurts. Maybe it’s whether we notice the places we’re growing, the small ripples of change that touch everything else in our lives. And if we do? Then maybe we can smile, just a little, knowing that the tugging, the stretching, and the small irritations are all part of becoming more complete, whole, and like Him.

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • Where in your life do you feel discomfort that might actually be connected to growth God is doing beneath the surface?
  • Have you ever noticed how growth in one area of your life affects other parts—your thoughts, emotions, or relationships?
  • What does it look like for you to “let it grow,” even when the process feels inconvenient or uncomfortable?
  • How does James 1:4 encourage you to trust God’s work in you, even when you don’t yet see the full result?
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Our Faces, Unashamed

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Psalm 34:5 — Those who look to Him for help will be radiant with joy; no shadow of shame will darken their faces.

I’m standing in my kitchen, coffee in hand, half-listening to the TV in the background, when it hits me—a memory I hadn’t thought of in years. It’s so embarrassing that it makes me cringe. High school? That was decades ago. How is this still so mortifying to me?

I just want to scroll past the feeling and pretend it isn’t real, but it won’t shake. Usually, I don’t carry shame around like this. But here it is, making my skin crawl.

“Lord,” I whisper, “this memory is so awkward and is really bothering me. I don’t even know what to do with it.”

And then I feel Him there. Not judging. Not shaking His head. Just beside me. The weight of the memory doesn’t vanish, but the heaviness does. I realize in God’s presence, I don’t have to fix it, explain it, or erase it.

So, I just breath in and out and give that unwelcome memory over to God.

That shame doesn’t have to hold me hostage. And suddenly, I understand something: freedom from my past mistakes isn’t about being perfect. It’s about trusting God fully, and let Him exchange the mistake for the miracle of His love.

Psalm 34:5 says, “Those who look to Him for help will be radiant with joy; no shadow of shame will darken their faces.”

And I just love that. That’s the exchange God offers—when we look to Him, shame loosens its grip.

Maybe the question isn’t why we feel shame. Maybe the better question is whether we’ll stop pretending it doesn’t exist long enough to let God meet with us. Because He will. Every awkward, tender, embarrassing memory—God sees it, knows it, and loves us anyway.

I take a sip of coffee and wonder what would happen if I just let Him in on even the tiniest uncomfortable corners of my hearts? And I hope you will ask yourself the same question too. Could that be enough for the joy that’s been hiding there all along to finally break through?

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • Is there a memory or moment from your past that still carries a quiet sense of shame when it resurfaces?
  • What does it look like for you to “look to Him for help” instead of trying to ignore, minimize, or manage that feeling on your own?
  • How might your heart change if you believed God meets you with compassion—not disappointment—in those uncomfortable moments?
  • Are there areas of your life where shame has kept you from fully experiencing joy or freedom?
  • What would it look like today to invite God into even one small, tender corner of your heart?
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Giving the Love We Needed

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1 Corinthians 15:10 — But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace toward me was not in vain. On the contrary, I worked harder than any of them, though it was not I, but the grace of God that is with me.

It is amazing when you can return the favor.

I have someone in my life who I am so close to. She is a young grandmother, and I knew she was special the first time I watched her hold that baby. She bounced him gently, humming as if the world could wait. As a new mom myself, I was just watching, trying to figure out how someone could be that calm and that steady.

“I have to ask,” I said. “How are you so good with kids? What’s your story?”

She began to tell me in pieces, snapshots from her life. She was fourteen when she had her first child. She remembers walking home from school, terrified to tell her mom, expecting anger, judgment, and resentment. She braced herself for the worst.

But it never came. Her mom met her with warm hands and gentle words. She wrapped her arms around her and helped her carry the weight of that. She warmed bottles, folded blankets, and kept dinner on the stove. She even made sure the baby was fed and bathed when my friend got home from school or work. My friend didn’t have to do it all on her own.

Now, years later, my friend has gone on to be a nurse practitioner. She has a beautiful family. She is a grandmother who still fusses over fussy babies, rocks them until they sleep, and sits beside her patients on their hardest days.

When I asked her how she does it, she said simply, “I remember how it felt when my mom met me with love and compassion. I want to give that same thing back to other people.”

She said that, and it made me think of 1 Corinthians 15:10: “But by the grace of God I am what I am, and His grace to me was not without effect. On the contrary, I worked harder than any of them—yet not I, but the grace of God that was with me.”

That’s what I was seeing in her life. Grace that met her in her fear and didn’t leave her there. Grace that steadied her, shaped her, and then showed up again—in her work, in her motherhood, and now in the way she cares so deeply for others.

Watching her, I realized that the love and care we receive is never meant to stay with us. It is meant to move through us and be poured out for others. And I wondered (and I hope you will too), who in my life needs to feel grace today through my actions? Who can I meet with the same compassion that carried me through my own hardest days?

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • Who first met you with grace during a hard or defining moment in your life?
  • How has God used that grace to shape who you are today?
  • In what ways might God be inviting you to let grace “work through you” instead of stopping with you?
  • Who in your life right now needs compassion more than correction?
  • What would it look like to return the favor—to offer the same grace you once received?
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Faith that Puts on Work Boots

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1 John 3:18 – Little children, let us not love in word or talk but in deed and in truth.

The things you do for the people you love often cost you something. If you have ever worked in a school, you know exactly what that means. Those kids—your students—they become yours, too.

Henry Darby understood that personally. He loved his student body but he also saw a reality that could not be ignored. Many of them came from homes with unpaid bills and empty pantries. He saw the tired faces trying to pretend everything was fine.

School resources could not cover what it would take to help them all. Neither would his salary. So, he prayed about it and did the only thing he knew to do. He took an overnight job at Walmart.

He would stock shelves from ten at night until six in the morning three nights a week. Then he would go home, clean up, and head straight back to school.

Every single paycheck went to support his students. Many of them received fresh groceries and school supplies while others went home with what they needed to keep the lights on at home.

It was hard work that felt never ending. Sure. But he loved those kids, and he did it anyway.

He could have said, “Someone else will handle it.” But he didn’t. He showed up. He stepped in. He carried a part of their burden. In doing so, he taught so many teenagers what real love looks like.

When I first heard about Mr. Darby, I began to see the difference between care and action. seeing a need is never enough. Love shows itself in action. Sometimes, it is messy, tiring, and inconvenient, but that is exactly what makes it real.

It reminds me of the words from 1 John 3:18: “Little children, let us not love in word or talk but in deed and in truth.”

That is what Mr. Darby was living—quiet, steady love that did not need to be announced. It just needed to be done. Love that keeps showing up when no one is watching. The kind that looks ordinary until you realize it is the most extraordinary thing of all.

Maybe that is the point. To live in such a way that when we see a need, we do not look away. We do not just hope it gets better. We get involved. Because sometimes, the best way to speak love is not with words at all. It is with what we do.

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • How can you show love in action this week, not just in words?
  • Are there needs around you that you’ve been overlooking? How might you step in?
  • What does “love in deed and truth” look like in your daily life?
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Give a Cup of Kindness

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Luke 6:31 — Do to others as you would like them to do to you.

I was feeling good that morning and treating myself to my favorite oat milk latte. You know—my favorite little drinky-drink. Sometimes it just tastes better when somebody else makes it.

I smiled, thanked the young guy behind the counter, and headed out the door. But when I was back to my car standing outside, I took one sip and immediately knew it. This was whole milk. Oh no.

My stomach cannot handle that. I know it sounds bougie and dramatic, but it is just the truth. So I made somewhat of a U-Turn, cup in hand, and quickly made my way back inside.

When I busted back in through that coffee shop door, I saw the expression on that poor barista’s face. His eyes were so wide.

Oh no, she’s back!

That look stopped me. Then I realized how often people probably come in angry, ready to lash out. And suddenly I wanted to make sure my face, my tone, and my posture told a different story.

So, I smiled and said as kindly as possible, “Hey, I realized there’s whole milk in there. I need oat milk. No big deal. I’ve got a few minutes. Do you mind remaking it?”

He blinked like he did not expect that. Then he nodded and remade it.

Before long, he handed me back my drink, and his face had the biggest smile. Not only that, but he gave me a larger drink than I ordered.

That simple exchange felt like such a win. I am so thankful that I did not treat him rudely. People make mistakes. We all do, and I praised God because I actually responded with kindness.

And you know, that is really what the Luke in the Bible was talking about. “Do to others as you would like them to do to you.” It sounds simple, but it is hard sometimes, especially when you are tired, or stressed, or your latte comes out wrong.

God shows up in those moments and teaches us patience and kindness. I could have snapped, but instead, I made a friend. So maybe today, if someone messes up or gets on your nerves, remember that little verse. You do not know what small thing might make lift someone up—or what God might grow in your own heart while you are at it.

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • When was the last time you responded with patience or kindness instead of frustration?
  • How could small acts of grace impact someone else’s day today?
  • What might God teach you about yourself when you choose to “do to others as you would like them to do to you”?
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Worship from the Back Row

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Psalm 48:9 — O God, we meditate on your unfailing love as we worship in your Temple.

This is so different than what I am used to.

Picture me last night at church—diaper bag at my feet, stroller close by, sitting on the back row. Mickey Mouse is playing on my phone with the sound turned off, and I’m pull out toys, snacks, and anything else that might keep my son Lennox occupied.

I am used to being the one on stage leading worship or sharing the message. Now, I am up and down, slipping in and out of the baby cry room between songs.

And you know what? That’s okay.

I will not pretend that it is easy. I am tired in ways I did not know before. In this season of my life there late nights, early mornings, and constant demands of a baby who needs me. There are moments when I miss serving like I used to. I miss the rhythm, teamwork, and energy of ministry.

But when I look down at the little boy in my arms and breathe, I just feel gratitude. Because he lifts his chin up and gives me that toothy grin, and I know I wouldn’t trade this for the world.

I think about how long I prayed for this and the years of infertility. I think about how faithful God has been to get me here. Every cry, every diaper, every late night—it is an answer to prayer. God did not miss a moment, and I believe He will not waste this one either.

So wherever you are today—rocking a baby, caring for a loved one — just know that it matters and keep going. Because worship isn’t limited to a song or a stage. It’s found in in loving well and showing up where God has placed us.

Seasons come and go, and one day I may lead from the stage again. But right now, I am content to worship from the back row. This is what I am called to do in this season. Even the quiet sacrifices that no one else sees—heaven does.

And I’m thankful for that. Just like the psalmist said, it is so good to “meditate on (God’s) unfailing love as we worship in (His) Temple.” After all, if worship is about giving God our all, then maybe I have never been closer to the front than I am right now.

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • What season are you in right now, and how might God be inviting you to worship within it rather than in spite of it?
  • Where do you feel unnoticed or unseen, and how does remembering God’s unfailing love shift your perspective?
  • What ordinary, quiet acts in your life could become acts of worship if you invited God into them?
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Hope Working Behind The Scenes

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1 Thessalonians 1:3 — As we pray to our God and Father about you, we think of your faithful work, your loving deeds, and the enduring hope you have because of our Lord Jesus Christ.

You ever have those days when what you do just feels unnoticed? You keep showing up and serving faithfully, but you wonder if anyone would even notice if you stopped.

I thought about that the other day because of my friend Kaylee.

She just had her baby—who is just over a month old—and for now, she is home, trying to be careful.

But she loves her church and loves serving. It’s part of who she is, so staying home right now has been harder than she expected.

One Sunday, she sat in her living room, with her little one wrapped snuggly in her arms, and turned on the church livestream and enjoyed the service.

Later she told me, “I just felt so thankful for the sound guy.”

Then she grinned and said, “But not the one you normally think about. I mean the guy who runs sound for the online service.”

She said she pictured him sitting there, maybe tired, sliding those dials up and down, keeping everything running.

“He probably has no idea,” she said, “but what he is doing matters so much to me right now.”

And honestly, I love that story. Because that’s probably one of the most thankless jobs on the planet. But here’s the thing: Kaylee is our pastor’s daughter, and she’d been having a tough time. That sound guy (whoever he is) was the reason she could worship at home with her newborn.

It reminds me that nothing we do for the Lord is ever wasted.

Maybe that’s what Paul was talking about in 1 Thessalonians 1:3 when he wrote about our work of faith, labor of love, and steadfastness of hope in Jesus. He knew the small, faithful things done quietly and consistently are what hold the family of faith together.

So, if what you’re doing feels small or unnoticed, remember Kaylee’s sound guy. He was just doing his job, but that ordinary act reached right into her living room and reminded her she still belonged to the body of Christ.

If you are faithfully serving in the shadows, wondering if it makes a difference, just know this. You don’t know when the little things you do are actually a lifeline for someone you’re serving. It matters, and you are making an eternal impact.

Someone, somewhere, might be thanking God for what you do.

And that is anything but small.

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • When have you felt unseen or unnoticed in your service to others? How might God be working through you even when no one else sees?
  • Who has quietly impacted your life in a meaningful way? How can you thank or encourage them this week?
  • What “small” act of faithfulness can you offer God today, trusting that He can use it in ways you may never know?
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Let Him Do the Work

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Psalm 51:10 — Create in me a clean heart, O God. Renew a loyal spirit within me.

Weekends in our house are usually reserved for three things: resting, catching up with friends, and cleaning. I’ll be honest—cleaning isn’t my favorite part. But there’s nothing better than that feeling when the house smells fresh and everything’s in its place.

My stepdaughter actually loves to clean. Her favorite thing is mopping. She’ll boil water, pick out the best-smelling detergent she can find, and go to town on those floors. Sometimes I’ll walk in and the whole house smells amazing—like lemons and lavender had a baby. But when I ask her if she swept first, she’ll grin and say, “Oh… I forgot. I just wanted it to smell good.”

And I get that. I love a good-smelling house too. But if you don’t sweep first, all you’re really doing is spreading that nice smell over a layer of dirt.

The more I thought about it, the more it hit me—that’s how a lot of us live our lives. We want to jump straight to the part that looks and smells good. We want people to see our “fresh” side, the part that feels put together. But underneath it all, there might still be dust and crumbs we’ve ignored.

It’s not the fun part, but the real work—the sweeping, the scrubbing, the part no one sees—has to happen first. That’s the part Jesus helps with.

That’s why I love the prayer found in the book of Psalm that says, “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.”

We can bring our mess to God. He’s patient with us, right there in the middle of it. He knows about the disappointment that sticks, the guilt that clings, the places we keep trying to cover up.

And here’s the best part: He doesn’t mind rolling up His sleeves. He meets us in it. He helps clean out what we didn’t even know was there.

So this weekend, while we’re boiling water and mopping floors, maybe let Him in to do the same in your heart. Once He does that foundational work, everything else changes. You start to shine—not because you’re pretending to be perfect, but because He’s been there, cleaning you from the inside out.

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • What “surface-level” habits or attitudes might you be using to cover up something God wants to clean deeper in your heart?
  • Why is it sometimes easier to “smell good” spiritually than to let God sweep away the mess underneath?
  • How does it make you feel to know that God meets you in the mess rather than waiting for you to fix it first?
  • What would it look like this week to invite God to “renew a right spirit” in you — in your home, work, or relationships?
  • Who might need encouragement today to know that God is patient in their process of being renewed?
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Hold on a Little Longer

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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?
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One Thought at a Time

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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?
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