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

Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus

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Hebrews 12:2 — Fix your eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith.

Helen Lemmel knew what it was to feel buried.

Some days, life felt heavier than she could carry. Money was tight, her health fragile, and the world seemed determined to test every ounce of endurance she had. She had long learned that hope does not always arrive wrapped in sunlight or easy answers.

Then one afternoon, she found a small pamphlet. Its cover was plain, but the few words she found inside were exquisite.

It read, “Turn your eyes upon Jesus.”

She read them slowly, letting the phrase sink into the quiet corners of her heart. At first, it seemed almost too simple t—but, for the first time in weeks, she felt the weight pressing on her lift a little.

No. It did not make the bills disappear. It did not suddenly make the world less lonely. But it gave her a place to look besides the storm.

She began humming a tune, small and unsteady at first. Then she wrote, letting her worry pour out as melody and verse.

Over time, the fragile notes she wrote became a song. It was a new hymn that carried not only her own hope but the hope of anyone who might feel crushed under life’s demands.

When people sang it during the Great Depression, their faces lifted, their hearts softened, and the burden they carried grew a little lighter.

“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.”

Helen learned something in that season: the storm does not have to define where you set your gaze. Even when life is harsh, the bills are stacked, and the world seems unkind, you can choose to lift your eyes up to your savior.

So pause today, even for just a moment. I believe you to can find the same relief Helen did. Andy you might discover, that a hopeful horizon can still exist though the storm rages around you.

 

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.

CHORUS
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!

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Finding Strength for Hard Days

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2 Corinthians 12:9 – But He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.

I sat down at the radio mic, staring at the same buttons and wires I see every day, but today they looked like a mountain I could not climb.

Just before walking in the studio, something happened that knocked the wind out of me. Honestly, that day I did not know how I was going to do the show.

I always try to pray before I go on air. It is a ritual that grounds me, a breath of connection with God before I speak into someone else’s morning. I’m a hot mess, and I know I can’t do anything without the Holy Spirit.

But even prayer felt out of reach. All I managed was one long breath and a half-broken whisper: “God, I need You to take over. I cant even pray. Holy Spirit, I am just so weak. Please come. I need you to take over.”

By the time I lifted my head, nothing about the situation had changed. The hard thing was still hard. But I knew Jesus was there. And His words in 2 Corinthians 12:9 came to life: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

We forget that sometimes, don’t we? We forget that it’s not our polished prayers or strength that move the heart of God. It’s our weakness, offered up as-is. He meets us there. He always has, and He always will.

So, if today feels heavy for you too, don’t dress it up. Don’t put on your “fake fine,” either. Just be honest. Whisper “Lord, take over.” And He will.

Because He’s just that good.

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • Where in your life right now do you feel weak—and how might God’s grace be enough in that place?
  • What would it look like to stop trying to fix everything and instead simply whisper, “Lord, take over”?
  • How does 2 Corinthians 12:9 change the way you see your struggles?
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Renovations of the Heart

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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.”

They say every old house has secrets. Some are charming—like crown molding tucked behind drywall. Others are… less charming. And I have found a few in mine.

Before I bought this house knowing it would need love. The kitchen needs light, the bathroom needs plumbing, and don’t get me started on the wallpaper.

I hired a contractor to do a walk through with me. I needed to see what I had in my head versus what really needed to take place. As we explored the home, he pointed out things that needed fixing that I never would have thought about.

I’m just thinking, “Hey, you’re the expert.” But I’m also like, “Are you sure. Do we really have to take that out or go that route?”

As I walk through these rooms, I think about my own heart. How many times have I patched a crack instead of fixing the foundation? How many walls have I painted over, hoping no one would notice what was underneath? The truth is, both my house and my soul are in need of renovations—deep ones.

But here’s the sweet surprise: God doesn’t bulldoze us when He renovates. He points things out we need to grow in. He restores us. He works with us patiently and tenderly. One broken board at a time.

And He does it with a purpose in mind. “For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things He planned for us long ago” (Ephesians 2:10).

I don’t know what this house will look like when I’m through. I don’t know what I’ll look like when God’s through, either. But I do know both of us are in good hands, and I believe it will be worth it.

So if you’re in the middle of your own “demo day,” don’t despair. Beauty doesn’t come from skipping the hard work. Stick around long enough, and you’ll see beauty rise up from the inside out.

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • Where do you sense God is inviting you to let Him do some renovation work in your heart?
  • What “patch jobs” have you relied on that He may want to replace with deeper restoration?
  • How does remembering you are God’s masterpiece change the way you see your struggles and growth?
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My Pastor, My Story

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1 Corinthians 11:1 – “Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ.”

I was flipping through my wedding registry album when I had to stop and smile. My thumb traced a familiar signature, and memories came rushing back.

Suddenly, I was fourteen again, sitting in a metal chair at youth group, nervous and unsure, my sister beside me. He and his wife, Ashley, made us feel welcome, like we belonged before we even knew how. That was when Jonathan Barbo became my pastor.

I can still see the grin on Barbo’s face when I was accepted to college, as if I had won a gold medal. Later, when I returned to serve in youth ministry, I witnessed firsthand the time and energy he and his wife poured into students’ lives.

Through camps, lock-ins, and late nights filled with laughter and scripture, He just showed up and cared. That presence left a mark on me that I still carry.

The hardest memory is when my mom passed away too soon. And there they were again, Barbo and Ashley, standing with me in the hospital, carrying some of the weight I could not carry on my own.

Years later, he showed up in a new way—as my CrossFit instructor. Those workouts were brutal, but even then, he kept teaching me lessons about resilience that stretched beyond the gym.

Back in the present, I traced his name in the registry again, remembering him at the front of the church on my wedding day. He officiated the ceremony. Who else could have filled that role?

Barbo had been my pastor. He was there in the mess, in the victories, in the losses, and everyday in between.

Looking back, I realize what his example taught me: life is not about grand gestures. It is about walking with people. It requires time, energy, and sometimes sacrifice. And yet, it leaves a mark that does not fade.

Paul once told others to follow him because he followed Christ. I see that now. Barbo’s name is in that album because he chose to follow Jesus, and that made all the difference in my life.

Maybe that is the quiet question worth asking today: whose life are you walking alongside? And whose album might someday carry your name, remembered with a smile because you showed up?

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • Who has walked with you through life in a way that pointed you closer to Jesus?
  • How has their example shaped the way you live out your faith?
  • Whose life might you be called to walk alongside right now?
  • What small, consistent ways could you show up for someone this week—just as others have shown up for you?
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A Simple Place To Pray

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

That kitchen table had lived a thousand lives. It held cereal bowls on rushed mornings, piles of homework, Sunday dinners that stretched into the evening, and more than a few hard conversations. The wood was scarred, the legs uneven. It was ordinary in every way.

But what happened there in the mornings was not ordinary. Before anyone else stirred, Mom sat at that table. A mug of coffee in her hands. A Bible spread in front of her. Quiet prayers whispered into the stillness. Some days she read. Other days she simply waited. But every day, she met God there.

Her children carried that picture with them, even if they did not know its weight at the time. Years later, one of those kids would find out.

She became a single mother herself, raising three children, juggling bills that outnumbered the dollars in her account. She felt worn down before the day even began.

She did not know what to do, so she did the only thing she remembered: she sat at her own kitchen table.

Coffee steaming. Scripture open. Her prayer was barely more than a sigh. And there, in the middle of her thin strength, she discovered what her mother had found.

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

God’s mercy is new each morning. It’s available, and whether or not you feel strong enough or good enough, you can still find it.

So friends, remember the church is not the only place revival happens. Sometimes it happens at the kitchen table where bills are scattered and cereal spills. God wants to meet with us in the ordinary, everyday.

The truth is, every one of us has a table. The only question is, will we sit down and meet Him there?

 

 A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • Where is your “kitchen table” — the ordinary place where you can pause and meet with God?
  • What small rhythms could you begin (coffee, prayer, Scripture) to invite Him into your everyday moments?
  • How does knowing God is near to all who call on Him change the way you see your ordinary life?
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Letting the Peace Drive

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2 Thessalonians 3:16 – Now may the Lord of peace himself give you His peace at all times and in every situation. The Lord be with you all.

Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever looked at a map, pointed to a dot seventeen hours away, and said, “Yes, that’s where I’ll be this weekend.” But that’s exactly what my daughter and I did.

The plan was simple: load up, drive, and make some memories.

Only the plan forgot to account for my hundred-pound dog who got sick the day before we left. She is a sweet creature, bless her heart, but I threw my back out taking her to the vet because my husband was out of town. I’m serious—it was like lifting a sofa by yourself.

And on the way to the vet, I noticed something was off with the car. It sounded like it was stuck in the wrong gear.

Now I had a sore back, a sick dog, and a temperamental vehicle. My brain started running wild with questions. Was God warning me not to go? Or was the enemy trying to sabotage the trip before it even started?

I needed wisdom, and maybe some jumper cables. So, I called my friend and spilled the whole story. She listened and then prayed with me over the phone.

Then she asked something that really stuck with me:

“Lauren, where do you feel peace? If Jesus is the Prince of Peace, do you sense more peace staying or going?”

Well, that is something I can usually answer in about three seconds.

In this case, the peace was in going. So, I ordered a rental car, and peace rode alongside me and my daughter the whole way.

Maybe that’s the thing. We don’t always know if the road will be easy, but we can know who is coming with us on the journey. And if it is the Prince of Peace, don’t stop there.

Give Him the keys.

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Let The Gardener Work

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John 15:1-2 — I am the true grapevine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch of mine that doesn’t produce fruit, and He prunes the branches that do bear fruit so they will produce even more.

It’s just after sunrise, and I’m sitting on the balcony of my apartment with a blanket over my knees and a mug of coffee in my hands. The air is crisp enough to make me pull the blanket tighter.

Everything is still except for the gardener below, tending to the landscaping.

It’s the perfect time for honesty. I close my eyes and whisper the same prayer I’ve been bringing to God for what feels like forever.

“God, can you please just put me back together?”

I want to be whole. I wanted to be the way I remember being before life started chipping away at me.

I take a deep breath and open a book I love. On the pages, a quote from Jon Rodel catches my eye:

“What if, instead of breaking down, you are actually breaking through?”

Oh my goodness. That is so good. It makes me want to run around.

But it doesn’t stop there. It goes on to say, “God is peeling back the parts of us that we do not need anymore. The fear. The pride. The toxic relationships. The toxic actions that we have inside of us. The brokenness. The things that once held us together, but now hold us back. And in their place, God is building something new. You’re not changing. God says you’re becoming, becoming who I created you to be full of light, full of love, full of courage and grace.”

As I read, I thought about the gardener below pruning a rosebush.

From the outside, it looks cruel—cutting back healthy branches, stripping leaves away. But the gardener knows the blooms will come back brighter and stronger for it.

That’s how this feels. It’s like He’s peeling away the things that once held me together but now hold me back.

Now, I know that when my life feels like it is falling apart, God is still working on me. Some days, I still reach for the glue to try to put the petals back on the leaves. But more and more, I’m learning to leave my hands open. To let the Gardener work without rushing Him.

The coffee is cold by the time I finish thinking about these things. But you know what? I can’t help but smile.

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When You Feel Alone

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Matthew 28:20 – Teach these new disciples to obey all the commands I have given you. And be sure of this: I am with you always, even to the end of the age.

I moved to Monroe for college in 2007 and didn’t know a single person. Not a soul.

The first few days were full of polite smiles from strangers I would never see again, and a lot of pretending I knew where I was going. So, when I heard about a worship night at ULM, I figured maybe this was my chance to meet people and begin to feel like I belonged.

When I got there, the place smelled of Johnny’s Pizza, Coke and Brookshires bakery cookies. I slid into a seat closer to the front ready for worship.

As excited as I was to worship, I was a little discouraged because, even here, no one really spoke to me. It seemed like everyone already had friends. On top of that, during worship, people were just sitting down, looking around, and unengaged. That is not what I am used to.

I thought to myself. “What planet am I on? Where am I?”

But then the band shifted into Kari Jobe’s “Revelation Song.” If you know it, you know how good it is.

“Worthy is the Lamb who was slain. Holy, holy is He. Sing a new song to Him who sits on Heaven’s mercy seat”

The melody seemed to wrap around the room and fill the cracks where my loneliness had crept in. For those few moments, I wasn’t the new kid or the outsider. Even if nobody else noticed me, I knew the Lord did.

When the song ended, I stayed in my seat for a moment, letting it sink in. Then I walked back across campus. I still didn’t know anyone’s name and nobody knew mine, but I had that experience that would lift me up as I found my place in a new place.

And just like I felt that night, I hope today you’ll remember that even when you’re standing in a room full of strangers, you’re never really alone.

 

Lyrics

Verse:
Worthy is the Lamb Who was slain
Holy holy is He
Sing a new song to Him Who sits on
Heaven’s mercy seat

Chorus:
Holy holy holy is the Lord God Almighty
Who was and is and is to come
With all creation I sing praise to the King of kings
You are my everything and I will adore You

Verse:
Clothed in rainbows of living color
Flashes of lightning rolls of thunder
Blessing and honor strength and glory and power be
To You the only wise King

Verse:
Filled with wonder, awestruck wonder
At the mention of Your name
Jesus Your name is power, breath and living water
Such a marvelous mystery

© 2004 Gateway Create Publishing/Integrity’s Praise! Music
CCLI: 4447960

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Letting Go of Baggage

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Psalms 55:22 — Give your burdens to the Lord, and He will take care of you. He will not permit the godly to slip and fall.

I am telling you. I need Jesus and a nap. Probably in that order.

It started in the airport with the smell of burnt coffee drifting from a kiosk, and the fluorescent hum overhead making everyone look tired before we’d even boarded. My gate was a picture of modern travel fatigue: people slumped in chairs, scrolling their phones, and clutching paper cups.

I was supposed to be in Baltic, South Dakota by nightfall. Instead, I got delay after delay. For hours, I just shuffled from one end of the concourse to another, checked my phone, and watched the same janitor push the same mop across the same patch of floor.

By the time the final cancellation came, I had already stopped hoping. I trudged back through the airport disappointed.

But you know what’s coming next, right? My luggage had already made it to South Dakota without me.

I travel a lot, so I have learned to pack light. But that one piece of luggage had my whole life in it (at least everything I think of as essential).

In the days that followed, I realized this debacle of losing my suitcase, in a way, was a good thing. It helped me to remember and reflect on how I carry other kinds of baggage with me everywhere I go. Things like worry, expectation, and stress,

I came home lighter than I’d expected, and it wasn’t because I didn’t have my suitcase. No, it was because I had a bed that smelled like my favorite detergent, pajamas that fit perfectly, and the relief of realizing that life is rarely as heavy as we make it.

Sometimes losing what you thought you couldn’t live without is the exact thing you need to finally run your race well. The weight falls off, and your arms and heart feel free for the first time in years.

So maybe today is a good day to consider what baggage you’ve been dragging around. What might happen if you simply set it aside, give it to God, and walk forward unburdened?

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Love Without Fixing It

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James 1:19 — Understand this, my dear brothers and sisters; You must all be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to get angry.

It started like any other coffee date—two friends meeting in the middle of a busy week.

We ordered and found a small table by the window. The late-afternoon light stretched long across the floor. I noticed a sad look in her eyes, as she held her mug with both hands. It was like she was trying to keep from coming apart.

We eased into the conversation with safe topics, but it didn’t last. She confessed the load she had been carrying, the sleepless nights, and the ache of not knowing what to do next.

I could feel my instincts firing. How do I fix this? What should I suggest? Who could I get her to call. My brain had already sketched a plan before she’d even finished talking.

That’s my reflex. I come ready with solutions. It feels like love to hand someone a map, to draw a line from here to there, to make things better. But something in me—something quieter than all my ideas—said, “Don’t fix this. Just be here for her.”

So, I leaned in and listened. Really listened. Not waiting for my turn to speak, not waiting for an opening to drop a piece of wisdom, but staying present as she shared her story.

She talked about the ache she carried and the decisions she wasn’t ready to make. She didn’t sugarcoat anything. I didn’t either. I just asked questions and let her answer however she needed.

Somewhere between sips of coffee and pauses in her sentences, her shoulders softened. She was still carrying the same weight, but it wasn’t pressing her down as much. She even laughed once.

When it was time to leave, I still had all my “solutions” tucked away, unused. And yet, I think she walked out lighter.

I used to think love meant having all the right answers. But I realized that God really doesn’t require us to.

So that’s what I want to encourage you with today as you interact with others. Most of the time, the kind of love God is really looking for is just knowing how to be a friend.

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