When Faith Is Fun Again

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Psalms 16:11 — “You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.”

It started with a bag of pretzels and a quiet parking lot. I was sitting with my car engine off while finishing a snack before heading home. That was when a dad and his two young kids came out of the store.

I was not trying to stare, but they caught my eye. There was something about the way they moved—like they were late for a plane. But they were not running.

Oh no. They were speed walking.

I mean it. Elbows bent, legs moving in exaggerated strides, eyes locked on their destination: the family car. It was so dramatic that I laughed out loud because it hit me—they were racing for the front seat.

Of course they were.

The younger one kept glancing over at his sibling to measure the gap, then picked up his pace. He was still technically “not running,” likely because their dad had told them not to. That just made it funnier.

And suddenly, I was seven again. My brother and I did the same thing. We would fling open the store doors and speed walk like our lives depended on it. Riding shot gun was sacred. You got to sit by Mom. You controlled the radio. And best of all, the coldest blast of AC hit you first.

I smiled at the memory. Then, a different thought crept in.

When was the last time I brought that kind of energy into my faith? That full-hearted, joy-soaked, eyes-on-the-prize kind of intentionality? It struck me because I think a lot of people can relate.

Somewhere along the way, faith can start to feel heavy. We forget that God calls us not just to run the race, but to enjoy it—to walk with Him not only seriously, but joyfully.

We need both. Steady purpose and deep delight. Obedience with laughter. Reverence that still knows how to smile. That is the kind of pursuit that changes you.

Are you moving toward God with that kind of energy? Are you making room for joy along the way? Do not pick between the two. There is power when you choose both.

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Twelve Dollars of Love

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Hebrews 13:16 — “And do not forget to do good and to share with others, for with such sacrifices God is pleased.”

One mom, Stacey, always tried to keep birthdays simple. No fuss, just a meal and some laughs. So, when Nathan turned twelve, she let him pick his favorite spot—Waffle House.

After they slid into their booth, Stacey leaned across the table and flagged down the lone waiter on duty, Philip.

“Hey, just so you know,” she said with a grin, “it’s my son’s twelfth birthday.”

She figured it might get him a free dessert or something, but she wasn’t prepared for what happened next.

Philip grinned right back and disappeared behind the counter. A minute later, he came back with a stack of twelve crisp dollar bills, one for each year Nathan had been alive.

He placed them in front of Nathan with a genuine, “Happy birthday, Buddy.”

Nathan’s eyes widened. He had never seen generosity like that up close. Stacey found herself blinking back tears. She knew the weight of that gift. She could picture Philip working long shifts, relying on every tip to make ends meet. Yet here he was, giving generously.

It was a lesson she’d been trying to teach her son for years, and here it was demonstrated in a roadside diner.

As they left, Stacey squeezed Nathan’s hand. She hoped he’d carry that moment with him, that he’d remember it long after the waffles were gone. Because, she thought, sometimes the best way to live is to give—even when it costs you something.

Friend, maybe you’ve been waiting for the right moment to put someone else first. Don’t wait. Little sacrifices, given freely, can turn a simple thing into a memory that lasts a lifetime. Let’s live that kind of story.

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Sunday Morning Struggles

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Isaiah 26:3 — “You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you.” 

The dogs were barking at the squirrels and frogs again this morning. Lennox was wanting my attention. My teenage stepdaughter was hunting through my closet for a cardigan. Chris was glued to ESPN, and my hair was refusing to cooperate.

It’s safe to say, Sunday mornings at my house are a bit chaotic these days.

But sometimes, in the midst of the noise, I remember my mom. She would stand near the window on Sunday mornings, playing her flute. She always chose that old hymn that made her smile. I can still imagine her lifting her voice in praise.

“Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in His wonderful face.
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim,
In the light of His glory and grace.”

In those moments, everything just settled into peace.

This morning, however, I felt anything but calm. I told Chris to go on without me. We both serve at church, and showing up in a bad mood is never ideal. I just needed a few more minutes to get my life together.

In the stillness that followed, that old hymn crept back into my mind. I felt a gentle question press on my heart: Have you spoken to God yet? It stopped me in my tracks.

It was Sunday, of all days, yet I had rushed right past Him. My eyes had been fixed on the chaos instead of the One who brings peace.

The dogs still barked. The cardigan remained missing. The ESPN highlights rolled on. But somehow, those things seemed smaller when I turned my eyes back where they belonged.

If your life feels loud and chaotic like mine does, know this: there is another way to see it. When you lift your eyes to Him, the noise fades into the background. The chaos shrinks, and the peace grows. So, take a deep breath and look up. Let Him carry the weight that was never yours to bear alone.

Turn your eyes to Him, and watch the chaos shrink in the light of His grace.

 

LYRICS

O soul, are you weary and troubled?
No light in the darkness you see?
There’s light for a look at the Savior,
And life more abundant and free!

Refrain:
Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in His wonderful face,
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim,
In the light of His glory and grace.

Through death into life everlasting
He passed, and we follow Him there;
O’er us sin no more hath dominion—
For more than conqu’rors we are!

His Word shall not fail you—He promised;
Believe Him, and all will be well:
Then go to a world that is dying,
His perfect salvation to tell!

Hymn by Helen H. Lemmel

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Choosing The Jesus Way

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Matthew 5:44 — “But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.”

It was just another Tuesday in the studio. Switches flipped, headphones on, songs queued. I was scanning emails and half-listening when Phil Wickham’s The Jesus Way came through the speakers.

I’ve heard it before (dozens of times, probably). But that day, it just hit differently.

“If you curse me, then I will bless you.
If you hurt me, I will forgive.
And if you hate me, then I will love you.
I choose the Jesus way.”

And suddenly I thought:
Wait. Would I actually do that?

I was flabbergasted. Because my honest answer was, “Absolutely not.”

Not if I’ve been hurt.
Not if I’ve been overlooked or disrespected.
Not when it means blessing someone who lied to me.
Not when it means forgiving someone who never said sorry.

But I couldn’t shake the question. I felt like God was tugging at something in me, asking me to stop pretending I had this Jesus thing figured out. I had convinced myself I was already living that way, but I wasn’t. I was saying the right things, but not living them.

Because the Jesus way? It’s not always easy or aesthetic. It is messy and complicated and sometimes downright painful. And sometimes, saying yes to Jesus means saying yes to being misunderstood, to letting go of grudges, and to loving people who won’t love me back.

It means keeping your spiritual ear tuned even when everything in you wants to shut down. It means choosing to bless someone who might never know the cost of that choice.

So, I prayed right there in the studio. Lord, I don’t know how to love like that, but I want to. Help me to do it…even if it hurts.

I don’t know exactly where that prayer will take me, but I know this. The Jesus way isn’t about what we say we believe. It isn’t a one-time decision. It is an ongoing invitation to choose love when it feels unfair.

And if you’re like me—if you’ve ever convinced yourself you’re living this way but secretly know you’re not—maybe this is your moment too.

No, it’s not easy.
It may even invite pain.

But it’s the Jesus way.
And it’s worth it.

Lyrics:

If you curse me then I will bless you
If you hurt me I will forgive
And if you hate me then I will love you
I choose the Jesus way

If you’re helpless I will defend you
And if you’re burdened I’ll share the weight
And if you’re hopeless then let me show you
There’s hope in the Jesus way

I follow Jesus
I follow Jesus
He wore my sin
I’ll gladly wear His name
He is the treasure
He is the answer
Oh I choose the Jesus way

If you strike me I will embrace you
And if you chain me I’ll sing His praise
And if you kill me my home is heaven
For I choose the Jesus way

I follow Jesus
I follow Jesus
He wore my sin
I’ll gladly wear His name
He is the treasure
He is the answer
Oh I choose the Jesus way

I choose surrender
I choose to love
Oh God my Savior
You’ll always be enough
I choose forgiveness
I choose grace
I choose to worship
No matter what I face

I choose the Jesus way
I choose the Jesus way
I choose the Jesus way
I choose the Jesus way

I follow Jesus
I follow Jesus
He wore my sin
I’ll gladly wear His name
He is the treasure
He is the answer
Oh I choose the Jesus way

I follow Jesus
I follow Jesus
He wore my sin
I’ll gladly wear His name
He is the treasure
He is the answer
Oh I choose the Jesus way
Oh I choose the Jesus way
#PhilWickham #TheJesusWay

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Loved. Seen. Protected.

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2 Corinthians 6:18 — “And I will be a father to you, and you shall be sons and daughters to me,” Says the Lord Almighty.

I was just trying to make it home before the storm started. The clouds were piling higher and darker by the minute when my phone rang. I didn’t have to look. I knew who it was.

“Hey,” my dad said. “Have you seen the forecast?”

“Yeah,” I answered. “It’s not looking great.”

“You fill up your gas tank today?”

There it was. Classic Dad. I’m a grown woman with bills, a job, and a baby of my own, but to my dad, I am still his kid. So, he still asks.

And I love that he does.

We talked for a few minutes, just the usual back-and-forth, but there’s something about being on the other end of that call that always steadies me. It makes me feel seen. Protected. Still someone’s daughter.

As we were wrapping up, he said, “Hey, check your glove box when you stop. Left something in there for you last week.”

I was curious. At the next light, I popped it open.

A flashlight. With fresh batteries.

I just stared at it for a second. It was such a dad thing to do.

And it said more than he realized.

Because the truth is, my dad is still fathering me—showing up, checking in, and thinking ahead. And somehow, that flashlight made me feel like I wasn’t alone in the dark.

It also reminded me why I’ve never struggled to believe in a God who loves me…because I’ve seen it modeled my whole life.

Not everybody gets a dad like mine. I know that, but the truth is—everybody does have a Father like that. The Bible tells us that this is the kind of Father God is. He is steady, present, protective, and intentional.

He is the kind of father who checks on you when the skies grow dark. He is the kind that prepares what you need before the storm even hits.

God doesn’t just claim the title of Father. He lives it. Even in this very moment—for you—and He is in it for the long haul.

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Loved by a Good Father

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James 1:17 – “Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.”

Looking back, I never understood the idea of ‘missing out’ on having a son to throw a ball with. My dad was different. He was excited to have a daughter to teach. He is the reason I fell in love with sports!

My dad, a 6’4 gentle giant standing, is one of the kindest and strongest men I know. From blending my baby food for daycare to tucking away extra bows so I’d always look cute, he has invested in me from a very young age.

I have two brothers, yet I have always been the athlete of the family. From a young age, Dad taught me to play catch with a Velcro mitt and introduced me to basketball. The joy in his face when he saw me progressing and beating him at his own game is something I will never forget.

Dad’s love was not just about cheering at a game; it was an entire investment in who I could become. He nurtured my talents, big and small, and believed in me more than I believed in myself.

When I think of what it means to be a godly man, I immediately think of him. He reminded me that my gifts come from Jesus. He taught me sportsmanship in working hard and handling setbacks with a positive attitude.

He never raised his voice and always disciplined us in love. In sports, He always made sure I had the best equipment like bats, knee pads and cleats.

Reflecting on his constant encouragement, I see parallels with God. Like my earthly father, God, the Father of Lights, desires to give good gifts to His children and equip them for success in all aspects of their lives.

So remember that God is a good Father, and He wants to help you, not just on the court, but in everything you face today.

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Right Place Right Faith

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Ephesians 2:10 – “For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.”

When Shelby Anders boarded the flight, she expected nothing more than pretzels and a nap. She had clocked enough hours in the ICU that week to last her a while.

But just after takeoff, a commotion started a few rows ahead.

“Somebody help! He’s not responding!”

Shelby didn’t think. She stood.

“I’m a cardiac ICU nurse,” she said, already leaning over the man. He was slumped, face colorless.

Shelby started compressions. Her arms knew the rhythm, but her heart felt the weight. An ER doctor joined. Then another nurse. They moved like a single unit, strangers with the same mission.

The man’s wife—Melanie—was shaking. “Lord,” she whispered, “I need You.”

The minutes stretched long. Too long.

And then, it happened. A heartbeat. A breath. A sign of life.

When the plane touched down in New York, paramedics waited on the tarmac. The man was still alive. His wife held Shelby’s hand for a moment before following the stretcher. She didn’t say much—just “Thank you.” But the look in her eyes said the rest.

Someone called her brave. Someone else called her a hero, but reflecting on the experience later, she shared, “I don’t see myself as a hero. I just see it as being the hands and feet of Jesus. That’s why I do what I do.”

Maybe you’re not a nurse on a flight. Maybe your gift looks more like cooking, listening, or driving someone around. You were created with something this world needs. Do not underestimate those gifts God has given you. He may not call you to save a life at 30,000 feet—but He may use you for something only you were made to do.

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Beauty from the Ashes

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Isaiah 61:3a — “He will give a crown of beauty for ashes, a joyous blessing instead of mourning, festive praise instead of despair.”

Lately, I have been catching myself holding Lennox just a little longer before putting him down.

His little chest rises and falls against mine, warm and steady, and I think about how this is my first Mother’s Day as a mom. I should be thrilled, and part of me is.

But the truth? It is complicated.

Because Mother’s Day has been hard for years. My own mom isn’t here anymore. And not a year goes by that I don’t wish I could call her, hear her laugh, or ask her how she handled all the mom-things I am just now beginning to understand.

But this year… there’s something new to celebrate

There’s Lennox.

There’s a sweetness to waking up in the night and knowing I get to be his safe place. And there’s my stepdaughter. We have had our rough patches—God knows blending families is not an easy road—but lately, there has been this trust growing between us. It is not perfect, but it is good.

And that is what I am holding on to.

I could stay in the sadness. I could make room only for what’s missing.

But I won’t.

Because I believe God can do something with all of it. The joy. The sting in my heart. The parts I wish were different. He does not waste a single piece.

You see, grief and joy can live side by side, and your pain is not pointless because the Lord can turn broken things and make them beautiful, even now.

So, if you are standing in the middle ground like me—with joy in one hand and sorrow in the other—just know you are not alone. God is still in it. He is still restoring, still healing, and still showing you the beauty you didn’t know was possible.

And this year? I am choosing to see it.

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Faith Is Meant to Move

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“So also faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead.”

James 2:17

As a baby, talking came easily to me, but I was a bit of a late walker. Believe it or not, I did not start until I was around 15 months old.

Crawling worked just fine for me, so I stuck with it. No amount of motivation from my concerned parents could change that.

That was true until one day I yelled, “Juice, mommy, juice!” My mom hurried into the kitchen as my voice echoed throughout the house. When she turned back, she was shocked to see I had stood up and followed her.

Just like that. No warmups or practicing steps. I just got up and moved.

You see, even at that age, I knew what I wanted, and I was not about to wait around. The truth is, there are some things we should wait for, but there are others we should go after.

I have often heard the advice to “wait on God,” but I have come to realize waiting is more about the posture of my heart than simply sitting still. It is about moving forward with hope and expectancy, trusting that God is guiding me.

Scripture tells us, “Faith without works is dead.” So, as a Christian, I do not want to sit passively and wish upon a star anymore. Instead, I want to actively pursue all God has put in my heart.

So now, when God places something on my heart, I don’t want to overthink it. I don’t want to hesitate. I want to step forward in faith, trusting that He will meet me there.

And I wonder—what about you? What is the thing you have been waiting for? The step you know you need to take? Maybe today is the day you stop waiting and start moving.

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Changed By God’s Presence

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1 Peter 1:3 “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.” 

We always looked good on Easter Sunday. My mom was all about the details—fresh relaxer, a new shade of Estee Lauder lipstick, and those perfect shoes. My dad and brother weren’t so caught up in fashion, but my mom and I? We loved it.

We always made sure to look the part. Easter was about tradition, family, and looking your best for that Sunday service. But deep down, I knew there was more to Easter than just looking good.

Like crawfish by the lake that afternoon. Like the snowball stand just down the road—my favorite part of the day. I could already picture the wooden table, spicy fingers, and the sound of cousins laughing. That was Easter to me. I knew it was about Jesus, but honestly, I looked forward to the after fun.

We pulled into the church parking lot, and I was surprised. There were cars everywhere—lined down the road, packed in the grass. Inside, it was standing room only.

When the service began, it got loud. The orchestra was extra powerful, voices were raised high, and the worship team and choir didn’t hold back. And the preacher? Well, and my pastor? Well, he must have spent extra time with the Lord that day because He walked on stage with a mission.

That morning, my friends and I sat together, but instead of playing MASH on the back of the bulletin, we were all a little quieter. Something about this service felt important. It wasn’t just the music or my pastor’s words, but something deeper. I felt the power of the Holy Spirit.

As the service came to an end, I watched in awe as people moved toward the altar. Some knelt, some lifted their hands in worship, and some just bowed their heads in prayer. There was a sweet presence in that room, and I remember looking around and thinking, This is different.

Sitting later that day, with the sweet taste of snowball syrup still on my lips and crawfish shells piling up by my side, I couldn’t shake it.

Easter wasn’t about the outfits, or the traditions, or the food. It was about what happens when people experience the hope of Jesus.

So this Easter, when you show up, take a look around. The person next to you might not be waiting for a good sermon. They might be waiting for the kind of hope only Easter can bring.

Let’s not miss that. Because Jesus is here, and His presence still changes everything.

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