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

Running Back to Love

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Romans 8:38-39 – “For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

I wasn’t always the frilly-dress type. When I was eleven, I was happiest with a BB gun in my hand, barefoot in the backyard, trying to see how many things I could hit before supper.

My daddy had built our barbecue grill out of a 55-gallon drum. It was welded together like a tank and sat right next to the sliding glass door leading into our living room.

For some reason I decided it would be a good idea to aim at that old drum grill.

So, I aimed, I fired, and I missed.

That BB zipped past the grill and hit the sliding glass door square-on. It exploded and shattered into a kaleidoscope of a million pieces. The bang rang out across the whole yard, and my stomach flipped.

I dropped the gun and took off running, full speed, to my friend Tracy’s house next door. Now, we lived out in the country so her house was about half a mile away. But I decided that I would now need to live with Tracy and her family. I knew Mom and Dad were going to be furious.

You can guess what happened next. Tracy’s mama called mine. And Mama, in the most calm, matter-of-fact voice, said, “Send her back.”

I walked home slowly. Shoulders tight. I was ready to pay the piper, and I figured I had it coming. But what met me was not the fury I expected—it was love.

Sure, my parents were upset, but they wrapped me up in their arms and said, “That glass can be replaced. You cannot.”

There are some lessons you carry into adulthood, and for me, that is one of them.

I still mess up and still flinch when I know I have let someone down. But the older I get, the more I see it—God is not watching from a distance, waiting to punish me. He is the One who meets me at the door with love. Every time.

He knows what shattered, and He still wants you.

You are not replaceable. You are not forgotten. You are loved beyond measure, and you always have a place to come home.

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Sox and All

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Proverbs 3:27 — “Do not withhold good from those to whom it is due, when it is in your power to do it.”

I came across a story recently that’s been sitting with me ever since.

A woman named Jane Arndt was driving her regular bus route when she saw someone standing barefoot on the hot pavement. Her clothes were worn, her hair tangled—someone the world had stopped noticing.

Without thinking twice, Jane slipped off her own shoes and handed them to the woman. “They’re not new,” she said, “but they’ll keep your feet from burning.” Then she got back behind the wheel—socks and all—and kept going.

Another passenger, who had once been homeless, wiped a tear from her eye and whispered, “She sees her.”

That moment has stayed with me. Because love like that—love that notices, that moves, that gives—does something more than help. It heals. It tells someone they matter.

Proverbs 3:27 says, “Do not withhold good from those to whom it is due, when it is in your power to act.” Most days, we have more power than we think—a kind word, a small gift, a few seconds of courage. And when we use that power to see and serve someone else, we reflect the heart of Jesus.

So today, let’s not hold back.
Let’s not wait.
Let’s be willing to give up a little comfort, so someone else can take a step forward.

That kind of love? It changes everything.

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The Unbreakable House of the Lord

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1 Corinthians 3:16 — “Do you not know that you are God’s temple and that God’s Spirit dwells in you?”

Do you remember the day the world shut down? It felt like a single, collective gasp. Stores closed their doors, streets emptied, and even the churches locked their gates.

I remember standing there, staring at my calendar that had just gone blank. Concerts, church services, small group gatherings—canceled overnight. Plans evaporated, and the sense of normalcy we clung to vanished in an instant.

I asked myself, “What does church look like now?”

But then I started to notice the small things. My wife’s smile as we walked the neighborhood. A neighbor’s wave from a safe distance. A phone call that turned into an unexpected lifeline. Even behind masks, I saw the same eyes of kindness and compassion that had always been there.

It dawned on me that the house of the Lord was not bricks and wood. It was us—ordinary people carrying God’s presence into the everyday. COVID-19 did not cancel that. It revealed it.

That was the moment my song “House of the Lord” came to life. I wanted to sing about the real church. It’s the one that cannot be shut down by a virus or anything else. It’s a family that laughs and cries together, that keeps showing up even when the world feels shaky.

Even with the “new normal” now behind us, I keep hearing “House of the Lord” on the radio, and I remember that the truest kind of worship is not found in the stage or the pew. It is found wherever we choose to love each other, to stand together, and to encourage each other in the Lord.

The body of Christ is a family that stands strong through every season. That is the house of the Lord, and it is waiting for you to find your place in it, no matter where you are today.

— Phil Wickham

Lyrics

Verse
We worship the God who was
We worship the God who is
We worship the God who evermore will be
He opened the prison doors
He parted the raging sea
Our God He holds the victory

Chorus
There’s joy In the house of the Lord
There’s joy in the house of the Lord today
And we won’t be quiet
We shout out Your praise
There’s Joy in the house of the Lord
Our God is surely in this place
And we won’t be quiet
We shout out Your praise
We shout out Your praise

Verse
We sing to the God who heals
We sing to the God who saves
We sing to the God who always makes a way
He hung upon that cross
Then He rose up from that grave
My God’s still rolling stones away

Chorus
There’s joy In the house of the Lord
There’s joy in the house of the Lord today
And we won’t be quiet
We shout out Your praise
There’s Joy in the house of the Lord
Our God is surely in this place
And we won’t be quiet
We shout out Your praise

Bridge
We were the beggars
Now we’re royalty
We were the prisoners
Now we’re running free
We are forgiven, accepted
Redeemed by His grace
Let the house of the Lord sing praise

Cause we were the beggars
Now we’re royalty
We were the prisoners
Now we’re running free
We are forgiven, accepted
Redeemed by His grace
Let the house of the Lord sing praise

Chorus
There’s joy In the house of the Lord
There’s joy in the house of the Lord today
And we won’t be quiet
We shout out Your praise
There’s Joy in the house of the Lord
Our God is surely in this place
And we won’t be quiet
We shout out Your praise

There’s joy In the house of the Lord
There’s joy in the house of the Lord today
And we won’t be quiet
We shout out Your praise
There’s Joy in the house of the Lord
Our God is surely in this place
And we won’t be quiet
We shout out Your praise
We shout out Your praise
We shout out Your praise
We shout out Your praise

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Speak Even If They Aren’t Listening

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Colossians 4:5-6 – Walk in wisdom toward outsiders, making the best use of the time. Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you ought to answer each person.

I was on a flight from New York City, heading home to visit my family in Florida, and I remember the man sitting beside me as clear as day.

There he was—this big, friendly, joyful African American man with his Bible open on the tray table in front of him. He smiled and said hello, and we started talking like old friends. Turned out he was a pastor.

I was young then, rambling on and on about my dreams of becoming a movie star, and he listened like every word mattered.

Then he paused and asked the simplest, most disarming question: “Do you know who God is?” Not in a forceful way. Just kind and curious. Then he asked, “What if what you want is not actually the best thing? What if God has more?”

I laughed—not because it was ridiculous, but because I knew what I wanted. And I honestly did not care.

That sweet man did not even flinch, like he had seen a hundred versions of me before. He just smiled again.

“I’ll be praying for you,” he said.

That flight was twenty years ago, and I have thought about him more times than I can count. I never got his name, but I wish I could find him now. He was the first person who dared to interrupt my self-made plan with the possibility of something more.

And he did it with kindness.

I would love to tell him what God has done. I would love to tell him his prayer was not wasted.

So let me tell you—if you are loving someone, praying for them, or sharing what you believe and it feels like they are not listening, please hang in there. That moment matters more than you know. The kindness. The courage. The seed planted in faith. It might take years to grow, but God knows how to bring it to life.

Keep showing up. Someone like me is counting on it.

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The Lawn Care Love Letter

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John 15:5 – “I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.”

“Do I really have to do this?” I’d groan.

Dad would smile, wiping sweat from his brow. “If I’m gonna be out here in this heat, I’d rather not be alone.”

Yard work. Always yard work.

I would shuffle across the porch, dragging my feet like a prisoner on work detail, clutching the trash bag or flicking the hose on and off. I’d rather have been anywhere else…like my bedroom.

But Dad never seemed to mind. Instead, he’d talk to me about weeds and grass and fertilizer.

Sometimes, in the middle of all that sweat and dirt, his eyes would flick to me and he’d smile. Like the real reason he had called me out there wasn’t the yard, but me.

It’s taken me a lifetime to see that.

To Dad, mowing grass and outdoor chores always came second to spending time with his boy.

Now I’m the one out there with the hose and the rake. My own little one runs around my knees, giggling like it’s the best place in the world. My wife leans on the porch, smiling. And I get it.

And now I see that is what God’s been doing all along too. He is not measuring my worth by what I can produce. Instead, he just asks me to show up, to spend time with Him, and to let Him tend the tangled places in my soul.

So, here’s to being present.

Here’s to letting the abiding nearness of God transform the way I see the world and shape the way I show up for the people around me. Here’s to saying, in the small ways and the hard ways, “I see you, and I’m here.” Because when we carry the presence of our Heavenly Father with us, the ones we love will feel it too.

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Hold Tight to the One Who Calls You His

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Isaiah 43:1b – “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.”

I used to think the perfect vacation meant white sand beaches, sunshine, and a good book. But when you’re a girl dad, vacation often means something else entirely—like shopping. And lots of it. That’s how I ended up in the heart of New York City, weaving through streets with my daughters, surrounded by endless storefronts and towering skyscrapers.

One evening, we stepped into the pulse of Times Square. It was a sensory overload—neon lights, shouting street performers, protesters, and vendors all competing for attention. The noise pressed in on every side. I felt my daughters’ small hands in mine, and I gripped them tightly.

“Stay close,” I said. The crowd could have easily swallowed them up.

That moment stuck with me—not just because of the chaos, but because of the clarity it gave me.

The world is a lot like Times Square. Loud. Confusing. Constantly trying to grab our attention and define us. It’s easy to get swept up in the noise. The lies we hear—or even the ones we tell ourselves—can feel louder than the truth. A rough school year can whisper that we’re not enough. A broken home can brand us as unlovable. A divorce can scream that we’re worthless.

And Satan? He thrives in that confusion. If he can convince us to believe a lie about who we are, we might never step into the life God created for us.

But God? He does the opposite. He speaks into the noise, and His voice cuts through with one beautiful truth: You are mine.

He doesn’t call you by your failures. He calls you by your name.

In that moment, holding my daughters’ hands, I knew they were safe as long as they stayed close, and I was reminded that I’m safe, too—as long as I stay close to my Father.

So if the world feels like too much today—if the lies feel louder than the truth—hold tight to the One who calls you His. Let Him remind you who you really are. You are loved. You are redeemed. You are His.

— Matthew West

LYRICS

Hello, my name is regret
I’m pretty sure we have met
Every single day of your life
I’m the whisper inside
Won’t let you forget

Hello, my name is defeat
I know you recognize me
Just when you think you can win
I’ll drag you right back down again
‘Til you’ve lost all belief
These are the voices,
these are the lies
And I have believed them,
for the very last time

Hello, my name is child of the one true king
I’ve been saved, I’ve been changed, and I have been set free
Amazing grace is the song I sing
Hello, my name is child of the one true king
I am no longer defined
By all the wreckage behind
The one who makes all things new
Has proven it’s true
Just take a look at my life

Hello, my name is child of the one true king
I’ve been saved, I’ve been changed, and I have been set free
Amazing grace is the song I sing
Hello, my name is child of the one true king

What a love the Father has lavished upon us
That we should be called his children
I am a child of the one true King
What a love the Father has lavished upon us
That we should be called his children

Hello, my name is child of the one true king
I’ve been saved, I’ve been changed, and I have been set free
Amazing grace is the song I sing
Hello, my name is child of the one true king
I am a child of the one true king

Music video by Matthew West performing Hello, My Name Is (Lyrics).

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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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Get Back in the Saddle

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2 Timothy 1:7 — For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline.

Daddy had me in the saddle of a horse before I even had my first loose tooth. I remember my little legs jutting out like sticks, trying to hold on to Dugar, my Palomino, whose coat shimmered like honey in the sun.

Daddy loved horses, and I loved that he wanted to share them with me. Every Saturday, he’d saddle up Dugar and hand me the reins, his big hand steady on my back. I’d watch his face as he tightened the cinch, his eyes full of pride.

We rode together for years, me and Dugar. I learned to sense his moods—when he was feeling feisty, when he was calm, when he’d rather graze than gallop. I’d talk to him like he was my best friend, which he probably was.

Then came the day everything changed.

It started like any other morning, but that day, Dugar had a wild streak in him. He bucked hard, harder than he ever had before, spinning and kicking like he wanted to leave me behind. My heart pounded in my chest as I clung to the saddle, every nerve screaming for me to let go.

But I didn’t. I held on until the saddle slipped, and then I hit the ground. Hard.

My head slammed into the ground, landing just inches from my father’s disc harrow. If you’ve never seen one, imagine a row of sharp, spinning blades pulled behind a tractor. Think of a guillotine on wheels ready to chew up the dirt—and me.

Daddy was there in an instant. I don’t remember much, but I remember the look in his eyes—wet, relieved, scared. But I was alive. No broken bones, not even a concussion. He said it was a miracle. We found out later that the cinch had not been latched properly. It was a small mistake, but it nearly cost me everything.

The next morning, Daddy leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes soft. “You ready to ride again?” he asked.

Every part of me wanted to say no. My stomach twisted at the thought of that wild-eyed horse and the way the ground had rushed up to meet me. But Daddy held my gaze, his voice steady. “If you don’t get back on that horse,” he said, “you’ll carry that fear with you the rest of your life.”

So, I took a deep breath and swung my leg over Dugar’s back. My heart thudded with every step he took, each hoofbeat a reminder of the risk, but also of all the rides we’d shared—sunny afternoons, slow walks under the oaks, the way his breath felt warm on my cheek. I chose to trust him again. And in that moment, I chose to trust myself too.

Life has a way of bucking us off when we least expect it. It’s messy and wild and sometimes leaves us face down in the dirt. But staying there isn’t an option. It’s not how we’re made. It doesn’t matter how many times you get bucked off—what matters is how many times you get back on.

So, dust yourself off. Get back on that horse, friend, and let Jesus take the reins.

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In Christ Alone

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John 14:6 — Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”

Keith Getty didn’t want to play it safe. Not with his faith, and definitely not with his music. He’d watched too many church songs drift toward shallow waters. Many songs were big on feeling, but light on truth. And something in him stirred. There had to be more.

One afternoon, over coffee, he told his friend Stuart Townend about a few melodies he’d been working on. He promised to send him a CD.

When Stuart popped it into his player days later, the first track made him pause. He sat back, listening carefully. There’s something about this, he thought. There’s something quite eternal and enduring.

He called Keith. They spoke at length about what the melody could hold. Stuart said what they were both thinking, “What if this song traced the whole story of Jesus—His life, death, resurrection—and what that means for us today?”

Stuart took the idea and ran. He wrote with purpose, determined to lay out the faith clearly—verse by verse, doctrine by doctrine—yet in a way anyone could understand. The lyrics poured out, beginning not with the believer, but with Christ Himself.

Some warned them that writing modern hymns was a dead end. But the song took off like wildfire—across churches, denominations, even generations. It taught people the faith. It comforted the doubting. It fed the hungry, and it sparked a whole movement of rich, theological worship for a new era.

They had hoped to write one good song. Instead, they helped reintroduce depth to worship. This was not because they tried to be revolutionary, but because they stayed rooted in scripture.

In the end, Keith and Stuart marveled at the beauty of a simple truth: the story of Christ changes lives. It was not enough to water it down. It was not enough to be half-sure. People needed the whole story—unashamed and unedited. That was the news that turned searching souls into believers, and that was the song’s greatest gift.

May you hold that same resolve. Do not shrink back. Share the story that brings hope, because this world still needs the light that only truth can bring.

 

LYRICS

In Christ alone my hope is found;
He is my light, my strength, my song;
This cornerstone, this solid ground,
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm.
What heights of love, what depths of peace,
When fears are stilled, when strivings cease!
My comforter, my all in all—
Here in the love of Christ I stand.

In Christ alone, Who took on flesh,
Fullness of God in helpless babe!
This gift of love and righteousness,
Scorned by the ones He came to save.
Till on that cross as Jesus died,
The wrath of God was satisfied;
For ev’ry sin on Him was laid—
Here in the death of Christ I live.

There in the ground His body lay,
Light of the world by darkness slain;
Then bursting forth in glorious day,
Up from the grave He rose again!
And as He stands in victory,
Sin’s curse has lost its grip on me;
For I am His and He is mine—
Bought with the precious blood of Christ.

No guilt in life, no fear in death—
This is the pow’r of Christ in me;
From life’s first cry to final breath,
Jesus commands my destiny.
No pow’r of hell, no scheme of man,
Can ever pluck me from His hand;
Till He returns or calls me home—
Here in the pow’r of Christ I’ll stand.

Words and Music by Keith Getty & Stuart Townend

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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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