Today’s Always Uplifting Verse and Devotional to start your day off right!

Romans 8:28 — And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to His purpose for them.

November 2023 began like any other month—until one phone call changed everything.

When I answered, I found out that my husband, Chris, had been in a head-on collision. Both of his feet were broken. In an instant, life got hard. Really hard.

It was hard because you hate to see someone you love struggle. Chris is at his best when he’s serving others, and now he was the one needing help.

But he handled it with more grace than I think I would have. But even for a man of deep faith, I knew there were days when he sat in the quiet, wondering what God was doing behind the scenes.

I prayed constantly—not just for healing, but that God would use this season for something greater.

Now, two years later, praise God, Chris can walk again and is thriving.

But just a few months ago, as I was dropping off our son at daycare, I noticed his teacher, Ms. Linda, with her arm in a cast. She’s the kind of woman whose joy usually transforms a room, but that morning her face told another story.

She couldn’t pick up the babies, change them, or do any of the things that normally make her feel alive.

I knew Chris would be stopping by during his lunch break, so I prayed that God would give him the right words to encourage her.

When he called me later, I could tell the conversation had gone well. He said he shared a few doctor recommendations, but more importantly, he got to tell her he understood what it feels like to feel purposeless and to be unable to do the things you once took for granted. And he got to encourage her with the word of God.

What an answer to prayer.

And maybe that’s the thing. What if brokenness is really a bridge to healing? Did God break Chris’s feet? No. But He didn’t waste what he went through either.

Maybe the lessons God is teaching you in your darkest seasons are really meant to help light the way for others in theirs?

Proverbs 22:17 — Incline your ear, and hear the words of the wise, and apply your heart to my knowledge.

There are few things that test your patience like someone’s quirks. I have a friend who is just plain loud. And I do not mean “occasionally raises their voice” loud. I mean loud like a kitchen blender with no lid. Loud at breakfast, loud at lunch, loud even after the coffee wears off.

I will admit, I used to get aggravated. Sure, I knew my friend was a little hard of hearing, but (let’s be honest) I think the volume made them feel important. How hard could it be to use your inside voice?

Over time, I realized I was not proud of my attitude. And the truth hit me: in some ways, I do the exact same thing. We all want to feel noticed. We all want to matter. Nobody likes feeling invisible.

But that’s not really where I am going with this.

Later on, I was scrolling on my phone, and a caption struck me like lightning. It said, “If you really want to get someone’s attention, whisper.”

And it made me think about God. He could shout over every voice in the world if He wanted to. But more often than not, He whispers. He does not push His way into my attention span. He waits for me to draw near and talks to me in a still small voice.

I thought about how a whisper cuts through the noise, how it pulls you closer and forces you to focus. A whisper is not something you can half-hear. It demands attention.

That thought changed things for me. It made me want to change my own communication habits. What’s more, it made me want to start leaning in more—really listening— to God and to people.

Changing that one thing really helped me treat my friend better. I still hear her, but I have learned to wait for the pauses. The spaces in between. Past the quirks. In the silence. That is where you can hear what people are really saying.

It also helped me grow in my relationship with Jesus.

So, if I can give you one piece of advice today, focus on the best part. Listen to the whispers.

James 1:12 — God blesses those who patiently endure testing and temptation. Afterward they will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love Him.

I knew a real-life hero.

Growing up in downtown Tupelo, I had a pal named Lyle who lived a few streets over. Lyle and I were thick as thieves since we were knee high to a tadpole. We spent endless days running wild through the weeds, and I think I enjoyed those adventures as much as playing with my Barbies.

But even as a kid, the thing that stuck with me was Lyle’s dad—the colonel.

Colonel Carlyle “Smitty” Harris was a man we all talked about like a legend. The thing that struck me most was that his boy, Lyle, hadn’t even met him yet. The Colonel was a top gun fighter pilot way before we even knew that term, and at the time, he was a prisoner of war.

See, during the Vietnam War, his plane was shot down. He had to eject and was immediately captured. For eight years, he was beaten to a pulp, paraded through enemy streets, and thrown into a prison that felt like hell itself.

But in that terrible place, Smitty never quit. Like Paul, he found a way to rise above the pain, praising God through it. He even used a secret tap code to remind fellow prisoners that they were not alone.

I cannot even imagine what those years were like—the fear, the pain, the endless waiting. But Colonel Smitty held onto hope.

Finally, the day everyone had so fervently prayed for arrived. He was triumphantly rescued by American troops. I will never forget watching Lyle meet the father he had only known through photographs and stories. What a day!

If that does not sound like the best movie script ever, I do not know what does.

That day made it clear—heroes are not born with capes. No, the hero’s cape is woven in the hard places.

So what if your toughest days are actually telling a greater story? What if God uses the way you endure them as the very thing that points someone else to the truest hero of all?

Hebrews 13:8 – Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today and forever.

Phil Wickham sat in his favorite corner of the coffee shop. The hum of espresso machines and quiet chatter around him were, strangely, a comforting soundtrack.

You see, he had noticed something lately, something that weighed on his heart.

People were searching. Everywhere he looked—at his church, in his family, among his friends—he saw it. Questions bubbling up, doubts creeping in, faith being tested. Some were stepping away hoping to find answers somewhere else.

And Phil understood.

The world felt confusing. What was “true” seemed to shift faster than social media trends. He remembered his own storms. Times when life felt like it was tilting, when doubt whispered louder than hope, and battles felt far greater than he could face alone.

In those moments, God had taught him something that changed everything: speak the truth of Him out loud. Say it until it drowns out the lies. Let it anchor your soul. There was nothing magical about it—just the simple, steady power of God’s Word, alive and unchanging.

Later, Phil sat across the table from Jonathan Smith and Chris Davenport during a songwriting session. As they talked, he realized his friends had been seeing the same thing he had: this swirl of doubt and ache for something real.

They did not even have to discuss the goal for the song. They wanted to write a declaration of faith in Jesus—something joyful, life-giving, and unshakable. A song the Church could sing together and mean every word.

They prayed. They wrestled with lyrics and melodies. They poured themselves into it. When the song was finished, they called it “I Believe.” Its chorus said everything they wanted the Church—and their own hearts—to hear:

“I believe there is one salvation
One doorway that leads to life
One redemption, one confession
I believe in the name of Jesus Christ”

This is not just a song to sing on Sunday. It is a declaration that can hold you steady on Tuesday night when the bills are late or Friday morning when the doctor calls with news you did not want.

It is a reminder that in a world where truth seems to change every day, God’s story stays the same. Phil sings it to remind himself. He sings it because it is true. And maybe—if you are in the middle of your own storm—you could too.

 

LYRICS

I believe there is one salvation
One doorway that leads to life
One redemption
One confession
I believe in the name of Jesus Christ

I believe in the crucifixion
By His blood I have been set free
I believe in the resurrection
Hallelujah His life is death’s defeat

All praise to God the Father
All praise to Christ the Son
All praise to the Holy Spirit
Our God has overcome
The King who was and is and evermore will be
In Jesus mighty name I believe
I believe I believe

I believe in the hope of heaven
He’s preparing a place for me
Far beyond what hearts imagine
Ears have heard or eyes have seen

I believe that a day is coming
He’s returning to claim His bride
Light the altar
Keep it burning
See the Lamb who rose a roaring Lion

All praise to God the Father
All praise to Christ the Son
All praise to the Holy Spirit
Our God has overcome
The King who was and is and evermore will be
In Jesus mighty name I believe
Oh I believe in You

No I’ll never be ashamed
Of the gospel of Jesus Christ
How could I ever walk away
From the One who saved my life
No I’ll never be ashamed
Of the gospel of Jesus Christ
How could I ever walk away
From the One who saved my life
Oh no I’ll never be ashamed
Of the gospel of Jesus Christ
How could I ever walk away
From the One who saved my life

All praise to God the Father
All praise to Christ the Son
All praise to the Holy Spirit
Our God has overcome
The King who was and is and evermore will be
In Jesus mighty name I believe

All praise to God Our Father
All praise to Christ the Son
All praise to the Holy Spirit
Our God has overcome
The King who was and is and evermore will be
In Jesus mighty name I believe
In Jesus mighty name I believe
I believe I believe
I believe I believe

Ephesians 2:8 — “For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God.”

Several years ago, I realized I was keeping score. I was keeping a record of wrong that God wasn’t. Not for anyone else, but I was certainly doing this with my own sin.

I was not accepting His grace for me, just for everyone around me. I wanted to try to move past my mistakes, but I constantly attached shame to every sin. Over time, as God grew and matured me, I knew I needed to receive and accept His grace, mercy, and hope for me first.

It’s kind of like the airline’s emergency rule: put on your oxygen mask first and then help everyone else. In the same way, because I was a youth pastor, I needed to accept being a child of God before doing ministry.

I had to practice what I was teaching the students in my care. Even as an adult with adult responsibilities, I had to be His child first. As I got older and became a husband and father, my reliance on God’s grace had to go even deeper.

Because of what Jesus accomplished on the cross, we never have to hold ourselves to some unattainable personal standard.

We confess and give it all to God, and He lifts that burden off us with His atonement and sacrifice. Then, we are not left with guilt and shame, but His righteousness and the reminder that Jesus loved us enough to see our sin, step into our lives, and offer His grace. It’s the divine exchange of our sin for His forgiveness.

We deny God and rob ourselves when we do not allow His full gift of forgiveness. Whether for the first time, or the first time in a long time, God wants you to be able to say, “I see grace … for me.”

— Micah Tyler

 

Lyrics:

I’ve seen shame
The kind that comes from mistakes
The kind that won’t go away
When I turned around
They were right there to remind me

I’ve seen regret
The kind that messes with your head
The failures and the can’t forgets
But standing here now
I’m thanking God it’s behind me

Cause I’ve seen nail scarred hands
Reach out and wipe it all away

Now I see grace
Hallelujah I stand amazed
I’m staring at an empty grave
And the stone that You rolled away
When I was a prodigal
You saw a son
When I left the 99
You saw the one
And just like that
All my past has been erased
When I look back
I see grace

I still hurt
Fall short of what You say I’m worth
And that devil says I don’t deserve
What You did on the cross
And he’s right cause I don’t
But You did it anyway

I see grace
Hallelujah I stand amazed
I’m staring at an empty grave
And the stone that You rolled away
When I was a prodigal
You saw a son
When I left the 99
You saw the one
And just like that all my past has been erased
When I look back
I see grace, grace
God’s grace
Grace that is greater than all my sin
Thank God almighty
Gonna sing it again
Oh grace, grace
God’s grace
Grace that is greater than all my sin

I see grace
Hallelujah I stand amazed
I’m staring at an empty grave
And the stone that You rolled away
I was a prodigal
You saw a son
When I left the 99
You saw the one
And just like that all my past has been erased
When I look back
I see grace, grace
God’s grace (I see grace)
Grace that is greater than all my sin
Thank God almighty
Gonna sing it again

Grace oh grace
God’s grace
Grace that is greater than all my sin

Psalms 145:18 — The Lord is near to all who call on Him, to all who call on Him in truth.

I’ve got a story to tell you. It’s about an old man who kept an empty chair next to his bed.

He didn’t have many visitors, except for the nurse and a young pastor who stopped by once a week. On one visit, the pastor noticed the chair and asked gently, “Were you expecting company?”

The old man smiled. “That chair is for Jesus,” he said. “Years ago, a friend told me that prayer isn’t complicated. It’s just talking to Jesus like He’s sitting right next to you. So, every day, I pull up a chair and talk out loud.”

He chuckled and added, “It might sound a little silly, but I’ve never once felt alone since I started doing it.”

The pastor was quiet for a moment, moved by the man’s honesty. Over the next few visits, they would pray together that way—like Jesus was right there in the room. And somehow, it changed the way the pastor prayed, too.

Then one morning, the man passed peacefully in his sleep. The nurse said he was found with his hand resting on that empty chair.

Now we don’t know much else, but maybe we don’t need to, because that is the kind of friendship Jesus invites us into. Real, near, and present.

So, friend, if today feels heavy or quiet or lonely…pull up a chair.

Isaiah 43:2 — When you go through deep waters, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown. When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up; the flames will not consume you.

It was one of those mornings when I felt heavy long before the sun had fully risen.

I carried my worries like a weight across my shoulders. Responsibilities piled high. Problems without clear answers crowded my mind.

I turned to my Bible out of habit and hope, even though my thoughts were tangled and the words blurred. Still, I kept reading. That day, I found myself drawn into the story of Jesus on the boat with His disciples when the storm hit.

The scene played out clearly in my mind. The wind screamed across the water. Waves crashed hard against the wooden sides of the boat. The danger was real—enough to sink them.

And there, right in the middle of it all, Jesus was sleeping.

He was not absent or unaware of the storm. He was simply resting.

When the disciples woke Him, He did not join their panic. Instead, He asked a simple question: “Where is your faith?”

Those words struck me deeply. I knew the end of that story—how Jesus calmed the storm—but it felt like God was asking the same question to my anxious heart that day.

I closed the Book and stayed still for a moment. A truth swelled up inside me:

God is strong.

Not just strong in a distant, “back then” kind of way. He is strong here and now, with authority over the storms that press in around me.

More than that, He is not standing on the shore watching from afar. He is in my boat with me embodying peace.

And if you are wondering, no, the storm around me has not broken yet. The answers I want are still somewhere beyond the horizon, but I know I am not facing it alone.

If you can relate, I hope you will take courage with me. The waves are no match for Him.

Nahum 1:7The Lord is good, a strong refuge when trouble comes. He is close to those who trust in Him.

Am I a bad parent? I don’t know. Are you?

We all ask questions like that. Maybe not about parenting specifically, but about whatever we do. Some obsess about it. Just check Facebook.

Maybe they have a point. Odds are, you’re holed up in your favorite safe space—think bathroom—reading this right now. You’re well aware you’re needed in the next room to break up a family quarrel, and yes, reading in the bathroom could be interpreted as avoidance.

But this is your time. It’s sacred.

You’re enjoying your own little spa moment, sitting in an empty bathtub, one hand holding your phone, the other buried in the bag of M&M’s no one else in the house knows about.

But this isn’t what you would call wasting time. People don’t waste time anymore. We’ve renamed it. We call it recharging, resetting or decompressing. Whatever it is, you won’t beat yourself up about it. You’ve earned a few minutes of alone time.

Now, what was the question again? Ah, yes … Am I a bad parent?

Well, I’m not always the best role model. One time I told my son to behave like a man, so he took a nap on the couch. I’m not proud of that. Does that make me a bad parent? I don’t know.

But am I a good parent? I mean, my kids have most of their teeth. They’ve never shown up at school in their underwear—okay, once. But they were homeschooled, so no real harm done.

Let’s be honest: every generation of caregivers has found ways to check out to get some “fresh air.” So…Dad, Mom, teacher, coach…there’s nothing villainous about a needing to get away. The heroic thing is that you keep returning.

Parenting—like many callings in life—is about faithfulness. Half the battle is just showing up. So engage. Retreat. Recharge. Return. Engage again. Just keep being present.

And most importantly, we know where the M&M’s are.

— Tim Hawkins

Tim Hawkins will be at First West on October 9.

For information, go to our EVENTS PAGE!

Matthew 6:26 – “Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.”

The kids and I found a baby mouse once. It was so small it would not have filled a teaspoon. Now, if you know me, you know exactly what happened next. I am a big-time animal rescuer.

You might ask, “Why in the world would you want to keep a mouse alive?”

Well, I will tell you why. I love all of God’s creatures. Every single one. I see an animal on the road, and it buckles me every single time.

We got to work straight away. I rubbed its belly with a warm Q-tip, tucked it in a basket with a towel and heating pad, and fed it kitten milk every two to three hours. I even turned to my friends on Facebook for advice. That is how I learned you can use a small paint brush for feeding (less chance of it choking that way).

But despite all of it, the baby passed away anyway. I will not lie. That hurt. This was the second mouse we lost in few months. There was even a baby bunny in the yard not long ago.

I am tired of death. Sometimes I am just so ready for Jesus to return so nothing else has to die.

It was never supposed to be like this. Back in the garden, Adam named them all saying, “you are a tiger” and “you are a mouse” and none of them knew what death was.

That day will come again. God knows every ache that we feel in our chest, and I know He is righting every wrong.

I mean it.

Because I know there’s no way I’m better than God at anything.

If I can be over here giving Q-Tip belly rubs and paint brush dinners to a rodent, then I know God is infinitely better than that.

If He cares for the sparrow—and yes, the baby mouse—then I know He cares for me.

And that is what gets me through today.

Psalms 68:5-6a — “Father to the fatherless, defender of widows—this is God, whose dwelling is holy. God places the lonely in families; He sets the prisoners free and gives them joy.”

I was anxious, yet so ready for this day to come. It was a day I had dreamt of for many years but unsure if I would ever see it.

Our son, Lennox was being dedicated to the Lord. Our church does it special for each baby. They have stood in the gap for us and prayed for this child long before he was born, so when we stepped onto that stage, it felt like a win for everyone.

My pastor spoke blessings over him, even sharing what his name meant. It was the kind of moment you wish you could hold on to and save for later. I couldn’t help but look around and glance at all the faces in the crowd of people who showed up for us.

Although many were there, I felt a pit in my stomach for who wasn’t. My family. None of them. They live hours away, and our lives aren’t as intertwined as they once were.

The hardest part was knowing my mom would have been there, cheering the loudest, if she could. But she is already in Heaven.

I almost found myself drifting to a place of despair, but in that moment the pastor called family and close friends up. That was the moment I remembered I was surrounded by love.

No, my loved ones could not be replaced, but I was amazed at how God had multiplied my community shoulder to shoulder with us. Praying.

As I looked to my right and left, I saw and felt the strength of those friends who had become family who I know will help us raise him in love.

And I’m sitting with this truth today. Yes, there will be tough moments in life where those you love cannot be there for you, but Jesus already knows and has already gone before you. He is preparing community for you through the Body of Christ.

You do not have to walk this alone or figure it out by yourself. He sends the right people before you even realize you need them. So, look around. Who is already standing beside you today?