The Giver is Better than the Gift

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Proverbs 2:3-4 — Cry out for insight, and ask for understanding. Search for them as you would for silver; seek them like hidden treasures.

Have you ever felt like your life looked perfect on the outside, but your heart was still…off? That was me not long ago, stepping into a season I thought I’d prayed into for years.

I was starting a new job, new serve opportunities at church, and new activities with the kids. Life felt full—beautifully full. I thought, I’m finally getting what I asked God for. A season of harvested blessings… So why does my heart feel empty?

Somewhere between the excitement and the schedule, I noticed a quiet shift inside me. I loved what God had given me, but I was less eager for God Himself.

What once felt like intimate friendship now felt mechanical because the gifts had started getting in front of the Giver.

On the inside, I knew this was a problem. So, one afternoon, I closed the door, sat down, and asked the only question I could think of: “God, what do You want me to know?”

And in that stillness, I felt the tug in my heart to search for Him with the same intensity I would search for hidden treasure—asking, listening, and leaning in for insight.

Following that, I opened a devotional book. As I began reading, it said,

“I want you to know that the way you love Me moves My heart. You are My delight.”

I was in awe. Every word landed like a gentle hand on my shoulder. The condemnation I’d braced for never came. Instead, mercy wrapped around me. Moments before, I had felt distant and small—but God revealed Himself as the one who comforts, not condemns.

Seasons of drift can happen to all of us. Life can look so blessed on the outside and feel thin on the inside. But God is always closer than we realize, waiting for the moment we turn toward Him.

If that’s you, there’s no need to brace yourself. Just seek God, look for insight like it’s silver, and ask Him what He wants you to know.

Then pay attention.

Because He really is kinder—and nearer—than you know.

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • Have you ever experienced a season where life felt full on the outside but empty on the inside? What do you think was missing?
  • In what ways might you be enjoying God’s blessings more than pursuing God Himself right now?
  • When was the last time you intentionally paused and asked God, “What do You want me to know?” What might it look like to make that a regular practice?
  • Proverbs says to seek wisdom like hidden treasure—what would it look like for you to pursue God with that level of intention this week?
  • Is there an area in your life where you’ve felt distant from God? How does this devotional reshape the way you think He responds when you turn back toward Him?
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Closer to God, Closer Together

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Psalm 105:4 — Search for the LORD and for His strength; continually seek Him.

I remember when my husband and I first started dating. I put in so much effort getting to know him. There never seemed to be enough hours in the day to spend together. I looked forward to his presence with full-on giddy anticipation—and somehow, that feeling never wore off while we were dating.

Fast forward nearly fourteen years.

I love him more now than I did back then, but if I’m honest, there are weeks when our marriage gets neglected. Not intentionally. Life just gets loud and demanding. I want to show up better, but I’ve learned something the hard way: wanting a strong marriage doesn’t create one. Investing in one does.

At a marriage retreat, a speaker really helped us. He illustrated a simple, yet, impactful visual on a white board. He drew a triangle where God was at the top, the husband on one corner, and the wife on the other. Then he drew arrows from the husband to God and from the wife to God.

His point was clear: as each person grows closer to God, they naturally grow closer to each other.

It made sense. If I wasn’t consistently spending time with God, looking for His strength instead of my own and turning my heart toward Him again and again, why would I expect to have the desire or discipline to prioritize my marriage? And I think that’s true for any kind of relationship.

Turns out, “marriage takes work” isn’t just a saying—it’s a lifestyle. For us, that work looked like intentional date nights, reading devotionals together, joining a marriage group, and serving alongside one another.

Any loving relationship—friendship, parenting, marriage—requires time, effort, and intentionality. Following Christ is no different. No relationship deepens accidentally. Closeness follows pursuit.

If you are wondering where your priorities lie, then I encourage you to ask yourself “What do I value?” and “What am I actually giving my time to?” Because time tells the truth.

And sometimes, the most loving thing we can do is realigning our priorities— by returning to the top of the triangle. One intentional step up at a time.

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • Where in your life have you been wanting growth without actively investing in it?
  • What does it look like for you to continually seek God in this season—not just occasionally, but consistently?
  • Is there a relationship (with God or others) that needs intentional time and attention right now?
  • What is one practical step you can take this week to realign your priorities toward God?
  • If “time tells the truth,” what does your current schedule say about what you value most?
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Remember Before You Rush

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Psalm 103:2 — Let all that I am praise the Lord; may I never forget the good things he does for me.

Have you ever wanted the benefits of being in God’s presence… but didn’t actually carve out time to be with Him? I know I’m guilty.

Lots of days go like this. It’s mid-morning, and I’m already behind—getting myself and the girls ready for school, the laundry buzzer going off, and my phone lighting up with reminders I forgot about.

I exhale, “I’ll pray in the car.”

I don’t.

See, it’s easy to prioritize what I can see over what I can’t. Schedules, notifications, and to-do lists that multiply overnight. Meanwhile, the presence of God waits patiently. I keep making this trade—presence for productivity. What’s eternal for what feels urgent.

The problem was never that God left. It was my attention.

So, I found myself wondering how many times the word “remember” shows up in Scripture (Clearly a Google-worthy question). The answer? 172 times. That stopped me. If God repeats something that often, you know it matters.

And here’s what I’ve learned: to reset my focus, I have to consciously remember all the ways He has cared for me so I never forget the good things He has done. I have to think on the ways He has rescued, restored, and redeemed. It fills my heart with wonder and turns to praise.

Not just in words—but in how I live, what I prioritize, and where I place my attention.

And that is how I put Him in His rightful place.

The next morning, the phone still lights up. The schedule still waits. But this time, I turn it face down. I give God the first unhurried minutes of my day.

Not because I have to. Because remembering Him first changes everything—my focus, my heart, and my day. And when we give Him first place, we discover our own hearts finally have room to breathe.

So today, don’t wait until the chaos dies down. Turn the phone down. Open the Word. Pause long enough to remember and let the presence of God shape the moments that follow. Watch how starting with Him first changes more than your morning—it changes your life.

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • What tends to take your attention first thing in the morning?
  • Where are you trading God’s presence for productivity right now?
  • What are a few specific ways God has been good to you recently?
  • How does remembering those things change your heart?
  • What would it look like to give God your first, not your leftover, time?
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Dreams That Don’t Stay Quiet

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Psalm 37:4 — Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you your heart’s desires.

I’ve never been great with crowds.

Let me rephrase—I’ve never been great with all eyes on me. As a kid, that meant sweaty hands, red cheeks, and shaky knees. An open invitation to panic. From dance recitals, cheer tryouts, school plays, even stepping up to bat, each one brought out a paralyzing fear that I couldn’t escape.

Growing up didn’t magically fix that. If anything, I just became more aware of it. The difference was that I might forget what I said or did afterward, but my body still remembered the fear.

But deep down, I wanted to sing.

I wanted to encourage people with words. I wanted to lead. But I also knew I couldn’t do it in my own strength. Opportunities didn’t seem to come knocking anyway, so I placed those desires neatly on a shelf. Of course, like a pesky fly, they kept buzzing back.

But what God plants in your heart doesn’t disappear just because fear tells you to hide it.

Fast forward a few years—as my faith grew, so did my awareness of God’s prompts. I learned that when God nudges me toward something, the thought doesn’t knock once on my heart and then go away. It replays over and over until I listen.

The idea of being a part of our worship team at my church was one of those promptings that wouldn’t go away.

Then one Saturday night, while half-listening to a podcast, I heard the words: “Give back what God has poured into you.”

Convicting? Yes. Comfortable? Not at all.

So naturally, I turned the podcast off and played music instead. If we’re being honest, we’ve all dodged a nudge from God like that. It felt like making a sudden U-turn in the grocery store when seeing someone I know.

But the first song that played was about surrender. And the line that kept repeating? “It’s yours anyway.”

At that point, I looked up and said, “Okay God… if I’m supposed to be on the worship team, You’re going to have to put someone right in front of me to ask me.”

The next day, I was walking out church and the worship leader came to me and said, “A little birdie told me you can sing. Do you want to try out for the worship team?”

That moment felt like God smiling. Moments like these are a gentle reminder that He’s been paying attention the whole time. That heaven is closer than we think.

Somewhere along the way, I stopped focusing on what I was afraid of and started focusing on who God is—His goodness, His presence, His faithfulness. That’s what it means to delight in Him.

For a long time, I thought that meant God would eventually hand me what I wanted. But I’ve learned it’s deeper than that. When we delight ourselves in Him, He reshapes our desires to look like His—and then brings them to life.

The desire He planted in my heart as a little girl didn’t disappear. It was turning into worship. Now, I sing in front of a crowd on Sunday morning. I’ve spoken to rooms full of women and launched a podcast. Fear didn’t vanish, but it lost its authority. Confidence didn’t come from me. It came from the One who’s been inside me all along.

When you surrender what you love to God, He doesn’t take it away—He teaches you how to carry it with Him.

And maybe that thing stirring in your heart—the dream you tucked away because it felt too scary or too big—that’s not random either. Maybe it’s an invitation. Not to be fearless or to be perfect. But to delight in the Lord enough to trust Him with it as He shapes you.

Because in the end, God sized dreams come from Him in the first place.

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • Is there a desire or dream in your heart that you’ve been holding back because of fear?
  • What does it look like for you personally to “delight in the Lord” in your everyday life?
  • Have you ever experienced God reshaping your desires over time? What changed?
  • Where might God be nudging you right now—and how have you responded so far?
  • What would it look like to trust God with that desire instead of keeping it on the shelf?
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Provision in Plain Sight

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John 6:35 — Jesus replied, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry again. Whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.”

The lunch hour rolled around, and my stomach was rumbling.

So I reached into my work bag with full confidence that something—anything—would be in there. I found papers. Lip balm. A charger. Receipts I definitely didn’t need.

But no food.

I dug deeper.

Still nothing.

I was sure I had packed something that morning, and realizing I didn’t was frustrating. Hours passed, and the hunger stayed with me. I kept replaying it in my head. I knew I had checked that bag before leaving the house.

And yet, here I was—hungry, annoyed, and confused about how I missed something so basic.

After work, with no energy left and no real reason to keep looking, I casually glanced into that same bag.

And there it was.

A bag of chips.

Sitting right on top.

I actually laughed out loud.

“Are you kidding me?” I said. “I had what I needed with me the whole time.”

Later that day, God gently used that moment to remind me of something deeper.

The problem wasn’t provision—it was perception.

How often do we search everywhere trying to fill the deeper hunger in our hearts? We dig through achievements, distractions, approval, or control—hoping something will satisfy.

But Jesus offers something better.

He calls Himself the Bread of Life—the One who truly satisfies. The One who meets the deepest hunger and thirst of our souls.

What we’re craving can’t be found by searching harder. It’s found by coming to Him.

Everything we need—His presence, His peace, His strength—has already been given to us in Christ.

Sometimes we’re just too busy searching to notice.

So this week, slow down long enough to see what God has already placed in front of you. The grace you carry. The strength you’ve been given. The quiet ways He is already caring for you.

Because real satisfaction isn’t hiding somewhere out of reach.

It’s found in the One who has been with you all along.

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • When have you searched for something only to realize it was already right in front of you?
  • What “hungers” do you sometimes try to satisfy with things other than God?
  • What does it mean to you that Jesus calls Himself the Bread of Life?
  • Where have you seen God already providing for you in ways you might overlook?
  • How can you intentionally turn to Christ this week when you feel spiritually empty?
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When Truth Turns the Car Around

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Zephaniah 3:17 — For the Lord your God is living among you. He is a mighty savior. He will take delight in you with gladness. With his love, he will calm all your fears. He will rejoice over you with joyful songs.

The car is parked on the bridge with the engine still running.

Jacob sits behind the wheel, hands resting where they’ve been for a while now. The water below is loud—constant, rushing, unbothered—but it still can’t compete with the noise in his head. Every thought feels settled, final.

He isn’t dramatic about it.

He’s convinced.

Convinced he doesn’t matter. Convinced the world would keep moving just fine without him.

The radio is on out of habit. Music drifts in and out, barely registering. He isn’t listening for hope. He isn’t listening for anything.

Then a lyric cuts through.

“Fear, he is a liar.”

It doesn’t shout. It doesn’t argue. It simply names the thing Jacob has been believing. And somehow, that’s what stops everything.

He can’t fully explain what happens next. He doesn’t suddenly feel strong or brave or fixed. What he feels is quieter and deeper—like he isn’t alone in the car anymore. Like the empty space beside him is filled.

Not with answers.

With presence.

As the song continues, something breaks open. Jacob cries harder than he ever has. Not quiet tears. Not controlled ones. The kind that empty you out because you’ve been holding too much for too long.

Nothing outside the car changes. The bridge is still there. The water is still loud.

But the lie loses its grip.

Not because it was debated—but because it was interrupted.

He turns the car around.

That night doesn’t end the way he planned.

Thank God.

Later, when Jacob tries to make sense of it, the best he can say is this: he was not as alone as he thought. What showed up on that bridge wasn’t a solution—it was a Savior who stayed.

Scripture describes God’s presence this way: “The Lord your God is living among you. He is a mighty Savior… With His love He will calm all your fears. He will rejoice over you with joyful songs.”

That night, Jacob experienced that promise in real time.

Not distant.
Not disappointed.
Present.

God was strong enough to rescue him, steady enough to quiet his spiraling thoughts with love, and somehow singing louder than the fear that had been shouting all night.

You might be reading this from your own parked place—maybe not a bridge, but a moment where the noise feels overwhelming and the lies feel settled.

Sometimes God breaks through that darkness with one truth, one lyric, one reminder that you are seen and not abandoned.

Staying alive for one more moment can be an act of faith.

Let the truth interrupt the lie. Let presence outweigh fear.

And keep choosing to turn the car around—because you are still here for a reason, and God is closer than you think.

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • Have you ever experienced a moment when a song, Scripture, or simple truth interrupted a dark thought?
  • What lies does fear sometimes whisper to you about your worth or your future?
  • How does the promise in Zephaniah 3:17 change the way you see God’s presence in hard moments?
  • What might it look like for you to pause and listen for God’s voice when life feels overwhelming?
  • Who in your life might need a reminder today that they are not alone?

Fear Is a Liar

When he told you you’re not good enough
When he told you you’re not right
When he told you you’re not strong enough
To put up a good fight
When he told you you’re not worthy
When he told you you’re not loved
When he told you you’re not beautiful
That you’ll never be enough

Fear he is a liar
He will take your breath
Stop you in your steps
Fear he is a liar
He will rob your rest
Steal your happiness
Cast your fear in the fire
Cause fear he is a liar

When he told you were troubled
You’ll forever be alone
When he told you you should run away
You’ll never find a home
When he told you you were dirty
And you should be ashamed
When he told you you could be the one
That grace could never change

Fear he is a liar
He will take your breath
Stop you in your steps
Fear he is a liar
He will rob your rest
Steal your happiness
Cast your fear in the fire
Cause fear he is a liar

Let Your fire fall and cast out all my fears
Let Your fire fall Your love is all I feel

Fear he is a liar
He will take your breath
Stop you in your steps
Fear he is a liar
He will rob your rest
Steal your happiness
Cast your fear in the fire
Cause fear he is a liar

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Red Bird Redemption

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2 Corinthians 3:17 — Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.

It was a Sunday afternoon, and I found myself outside soaking up the sun. It was a beautiful, sunny day. The sun was shining brightly, but on the inside, gloomy was an understatement for how I felt.

You see, alcohol had a stronghold on me for nearly twelve years. The good news is our Savior is still in the business of saving, and His love is still reaching.

On that particular day, I found myself sitting outside with my head between my knees when something made me look up. Right in front of me was a red bird. It shocked me because cardinals weren’t common in my neighborhood. But there it was.

The world around me felt dull, but its bright red coloring was so vibrant—impossible to ignore. As a mom, it reminded me of a picture book I used to read my girls that reads, “Red bird, red bird, what do you see?” When I asked myself that question, the only answer I had was this.

It was something alive. The cardinal was something bright and bold and stunning, and it stood out so much against the heaviness I was carrying inside.

My youngest daughter, who was two years old at the time, walked up to me and asked, “Mommy, why are you so sad?” I thought to myself, “How did she know?” In that moment, I broke, and tears began flowing down my face.

After that day, I started noticing red birds everywhere. One on a fence post. Another at my grandma’s house. One more perched just long enough for me to really see it before flying away. At first, I brushed it off. But after a while, it became hard to ignore.

It began to dawn on me that the Holy Spirit was trying to get my attention, gently reminding me of what had already been set in motion that Sunday afternoon.

Looking back, I know the red bird wasn’t a coincidence, and its color wasn’t just a color. Curious, I looked up what red birds symbolize, and I learned that in Christian literature, the cardinal often represents the blood of Jesus, hope, and the presence of the Holy Spirit.

That truth settled deep in my soul. It was a reminder of Christ’s blood, poured out for me, covering every failure, every mistake, and every sin. It was as if God was showing me, in a way I could see and understand, that I wasn’t beyond redemption. His blood poured out for me on the cross secured my freedom—He didn’t want a sacrifice. He was the sacrifice. He wanted me to trust Him with all my heart and surrender to His will.

Scripture puts words to what my heart was learning to believe: “Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom” (2 Corinthians 3:17). Outside of that powerful truth, I don’t know how else to explain it. Freedom didn’t just mean the absence of alcohol—it meant the presence of the Spirit reshaping my life. That Sunday that was the last day alcohol would have a stronghold on my life. What I thought had me bound no longer had the final say.

Now, every time I see a red bird, I remember the moment I looked up and saw proof that God was with me—and that He still is. If you’ve ever struggled with addiction, or anything that makes you feel trapped with no way out, you understand the weight of guilt, shame, and regret. But here is the truth: God’s grace is bigger than our past, and His love is stronger than any of our failures. The enemy thought he had me, but Jesus said, “Nope—she’s mine!”

If you are reading this and feel like you are bound, with no way out, maybe today is an invitation to look up. You never know what God might be using to get your attention. You might just find hope—unexpected, unmistakable hope—in a way you least expect it.

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • What in my life feels like a stronghold right now?
  • Have I believed the lie that I am too far gone?
  • Where might God already be trying to get my attention?
  • Do I truly believe that freedom is possible for me?
  • What would it look like to surrender this struggle to the Holy Spirit?
  • When I think about my past, do I see shame—or the covering grace of Jesus?
  • What small reminder has God placed in my life that points me back to hope?
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Persuasively Persistent

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Matthew 7:7 — Keep on asking, and you will receive what you ask for. Keep on seeking, and you will find. Keep on knocking, and the door will be opened to you.

As a mom of two young children, I would be rich if I got a dollar every time I heard the phrase, “Mom, can I have ______?” Even after saying the dreadful, life-altering, meltdown provoking word, “NO,” my children relentlessly approach me- asking the same question. They simply won’t take no for an answer.

While they’re learning to respect boundaries, I’ll admit that sometimes I give in—not because thea answer changed, but because they didn’t give up. Watching them has taught me something about faith. They ask boldly and don’t assume “no” means never.

God used my children to gently remind me of his fatherly character, and I began reflecting on the way I have approached God. More times than I’d like to admit-I asked once, hear no—or silence—and quietly retreat. Maybe you can relate?

Jesus’ words in Matthew 7:7 began to challenge that pattern: “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.”

That’s not a one-time request. It’s not a hesitant whisper. No, it’s a continual posture of asking, seeking, and knocking. It is trusting the heart of the God who wants to answer us.

There is no coincidence that Luke chapter 18 consecutively tells of the parable of the persistent widow and the story of the little children coming to Jesus. God encourages us to always pray and not give up; the same way the widow approached the judge with her plea.

She persisted instead of retreating, until she got justice. Our Heavenly father tells us to approach him the same way the little children approached Jesus; with childlike faith instead of hindrance.

The next time you pray, I challenge you to approach God more like little children approach their parents and the widow approached the judge. Bold. Persistent. Willing to ask again. And to approach our Heavenly father with the childlike faith the little children approached Jesus with; confident that even when the answer isn’t what we hoped for, He is still listening—and still good.

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • Where have I stopped asking God because I didn’t like the first answer — or the silence?
  • Is there a prayer I quietly gave up on that I need to bring back to Him?
  • Do I approach God with hesitation… or with childlike trust?
  • Have I mistaken “wait” for “no”?
  • What would it look like for me to keep knocking instead of walking away?
  • Do I truly believe my Heavenly Father is good — even when His answer isn’t what I hoped for?
  • Where is God inviting me to be bold and persistent in prayer right now?
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Living for an Audience of One

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Proverbs 29:25 — Fearing people is a dangerous trap, but trusting the Lord means safety.

Terrian Woods stands on the stage at her church. Her legs are shaking and her throat is dry before she ever sings a note.

The room feels bigger than it should. Her heart is pounding so hard it’s distracting. All she can think is, Don’t mess this up. Everyone’s watching.

It’s ironic—she grew up in a church pew in North Memphis. Her grandfather preached. Her aunt led worship. People said she was called to sing. One guest preacher even told her her worship would be her weapon.

She believed it. Mostly.

But standing there, all of it fades beneath the weight of fear. She wants to worship Jesus, but anxiety keeps pulling her attention toward the crowd. The pressure to be seen, approved, and evaluated feels overwhelming.

That’s when something shifts.

Like a whisper cutting through the noise, she remembers the truth: worship isn’t about her performance—it’s about God’s presence. She realizes she’s been focused on many faces instead of the Audience of One.

Her legs still shake. Her heart still races. But she redirects her focus—away from the people, away from herself, and upward toward Jesus. She takes a deep breath and sings.

That moment changes her.

Years later, Terrian is leading worship on bigger platforms and writing songs like “Honestly, We Just Need Jesus.” And when she looks back, she sees a pattern: every time she trusted God more than the opinions around her, His presence met her in ways she couldn’t manufacture.

Scripture names that tension clearly:

“Fearing people is a dangerous trap, but trusting the Lord means safety.” — Proverbs 29:25

We all feel that pull. We might not be standing on a stage, but we face moments where fear of opinion, rejection, or failure tempts us to shrink back. The trap is real—but so is the safety that comes from trusting God.

When we lift our eyes from the crowd to Christ, trembling can turn into trust. Nerves can become worship. Ordinary moments can become encounters with God’s strength.

So don’t let fear hold you back—in your work, your relationships, or your faith. Even if you show up scared, God invites you to find His face in the crowd and discover a presence that comforts, steadies, and carries you.

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • Where in your life are you most aware of the fear of others’ opinions?
  • How does Proverbs 29:25 reframe the difference between fear and trust for you personally?
  • What would it look like to shift your focus from the crowd to the “Audience of One” this week?
  • How might trusting God—rather than yourself—create space for His presence to meet you?

LYRICS:

This is the moment
Where everything turns
Didn’t think I would see it
Was hard to believe
Heaven crashes to earth
I’ve read the stories
Of all that you’ve done
Parted the sea, (and) set captives free
Never thought I’d be one

I am a living, breathing, walking testimony
I am the living proof of what the Lord has done
May call it crazy, but they can’t take away my story
Cause I am a living, breathing, walking testimony

They said I wouldn’t make it
That I should give up
But they didn’t know that
The God that I serve
Is more than enough
He can move mountains
He can make broken beautiful
I never run out of hope
When I run to the God of miracles

I am a living, breathing, walking testimony
I am the living proof of what the Lord has done
May call it crazy, but they can’t take away my story
Cause I am a living, breathing, walking testimony
Look what the Lord has done
Look what the Lord has done
Oh, the enemy did what he could
But the Lord he has used it for good
Look what the Lord has done
Look what the Lord has done
When the thief tried to steal and destroy
The Lord gave me an anthem of joy

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He’s a Wonder Working God

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Jeremiah 33:3 — Call to me and I will answer you, and will tell you great and hidden things that you have not known.

I was driving home late one evening when a voice on the radio caught my attention. It was one of those stories where God captures your full focus—whether you planned on giving it or not.

A mother was sharing how God had met her in the middle of unimaginable news about her son. Doctors told her early on that her little boy would never hear. Years later, they added another diagnosis—eventual blindness. When she heard those words, disbelief washed over her.

The fear was real, but her confidence didn’t rest in her own strength. It rested in God.

In her desperation, she dropped to her knees and cried out, “I’m not leaving here until You heal my son.” More than anything, she wanted her child to experience God—to hear His voice. And now, that felt impossible.

Then she paused.

And in that stillness, God spoke: “Your son doesn’t need ears to hear Me. I speak to the heart.”

My jaw dropped. My heart swelled. Because that wasn’t just an answer—it was revelation. One of those “hidden things” God promises when we dare to call on Him.

The healing didn’t come the way she hoped, but peace did. The kind that quiets fear and settles the soul. God didn’t remove the diagnosis in that moment, but He removed the dread. And suddenly, that felt like a miracle too.

About a week later, I was working a local event for my boutique when I overheard someone mention a vendor around the corner who was deaf—and who also ran a Christian shop. I knew I had to meet her.

As we talked, she shared her story. Born deaf, she had never heard a voice—until the day God called her by name. Audibly. Clearly. For the first time in her life, she heard someone say her name.

Chills ran from head to toe.

I shared the radio story with her, and in that moment, I was reminded how alive and attentive God still is. Abundant joy comes from staying sensitive to His wonder. I never want to grow used to having a miracle-working God.

And just in case you’re wondering—the doctor’s prediction from that radio story never came true. That little boy has had no issues with his eyesight to this day.

What amazes me most isn’t just that God can do miracles—it’s that He invites us to speak to Him at all. He hears whispered prayers in moving cars. He listens to mothers on their knees. He responds in ways we never would have imagined.

God isn’t distant or distracted. And whether we think we’re equipped to hear Him or not, He knows exactly how to reach our hearts.

That’s the promise of Jeremiah 33:3: “Call to me and I will answer you, and will tell you great and hidden things that you have not known.”

He doesn’t need perfect conditions to speak—He just needs open hearts willing to listen.

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • When was the last time you truly called out to God—not with polished words, but with honesty and need?
  • Are there places in your life where you’ve assumed God won’t speak because the situation feels impossible?
  • How might God be answering you in a way you didn’t expect—but still deeply need?
  • What would it look like to listen for God’s voice with your heart, not just your circumstances?
  • Is there a story of God’s faithfulness—your own or someone else’s—that reminds you He still reveals “hidden things?”
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