Matthew 6:33 “But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.”

Eight days. Just eight more days until I walk down the aisle and say, “I do.” Eight days until a thousand tiny details—flower arrangements, last-minute Amazon deliveries, and seating charts—would either come together or fall apart.

And I felt like I was drowning in all of it.

I would wake up each morning before the wedding already feeling behind. My mind would sprint through the day’s tasks before my feet even hit the floor. I wanted to start my mornings with God—I knew that was the right thing to do—but instead, I reached for my phone or for my planner for control.

Then, one morning, in the middle of my mental storm, a thought cut through the chaos:

“Is this how you want to enter marriage? Frazzled? Exhausted? Trying to hold everything together by yourself?”

I sat there, phone in hand, convicted. I had been so focused on making everything perfect that I had left God out of the picture. I had forgotten to take a moment to breathe and center myself on Him.

So, I did something different. I put the phone down. I closed my eyes. And I prayed, not for my list to magically disappear, but for my heart to be re-centered on Him.

I reminded myself that with Him, I could face anything.

It is funny—nothing about my circumstances changed in that moment. But I did. Whenever I placed God as my priority, the knots in my stomach loosened, and I felt strengthened to tackle each day’s task.

Is there something in your life that is weighing you down? Perhaps it is a to-do list or an overwhelming task you’re trying to manage on your own. If your mind is crowded and your heart overwhelmed, take a step back. Pause. And give it to God.

Because when we put Him first, everything else falls right into place.

Lamentations 3:25 – “The Lord is good to those who wait for Him, to the soul who seeks Him.”

All morning, I had been running around making sure every detail of my friend’s wedding day was perfect. Fixing flowers, adjusting the dress, calming nerves—whatever it took to make her dream a reality.

But this—this was the moment she had been waiting for.

Her first look.

She stood in the center of the room, back turned, hands clasped in front of her. Just waiting.

We bridesmaids clustered near the doorway while peeking through the cracked door and watched as the groom stepped in the room.

He did not say a word at first. He simply took her in, like he wanted to remember this moment, before the ceremony, for the rest of his life. And then, with a steady hand, he reached out, touched her shoulder, and turned her around.

Their eyes met, and her face broke into a smile. His eyes shone with unshed tears, and for a moment, the rest of the world disappeared. The weight of months and years of waiting for each other fell away.

It was stunning.

And I could not shake the feeling that this is exactly what God does for us.

He is the One who moves toward us with just as much love and intentionality, holding steady to His promises. He wants to sweep us into something more beautiful than we ever imagined.

He prepares us, leads us, and asks us to wait for Him with expectant hearts. And it makes me think, if I really believe that, then I want to wait for Him and trust him with my whole heart.

And when that moment comes—when I see what He has been working on behind the scenes—I want to be ready. Because one day, He will turn me around, and I do not want to miss the joy on His face when He does.

“Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”

Matthew 18:3

Some moments just make time stand still.

The second I step through the door, I see her. Reese is already on the move, her whole face beaming. Her little feet pound against the floor as she barrels toward me. No hesitation, no fear. Just pure, unfiltered love.

And when my daughter reaches me, she throws her arms around my neck and holds on like she never wants to let go.

I don’t know if she realizes what that does to me.

No matter how long my day has been, no matter how exhausted I feel, that moment always fills me right back up. There’s no earning it, no proving myself—just love, given freely, without hesitation.

And every time, I think: This must be how God feels about us.

It stops me in my tracks. If I, an imperfect mother, can feel this kind of love for her—how much more must my Heavenly Father feel for me? It is a love so deep and so unconditional that the thought almost takes my breath away.

But then another thought follows, and it stings. I don’t always do that with God. How often do I hold back? How often do I let fear, shame, or distraction keep me at arm’s length?

Reese never does that. She does not stop to wonder if she’s loved. She just knows.

And I wonder—what if I lived like that? What if I ran toward God with the same kind of trust, the same confidence, the same joy?

Maybe today is the day I stop hesitating. Maybe today is the day I just run straight into His arms.

“Every branch in me that does not bear fruit he takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit.” 

John 15:2

I don’t know why I thought keeping plants alive would be easy. Water, sunlight, and a little love—how hard could it be? 

I envisioned a home filled with thriving greenery and blooming flowers. So, I headed to the store to buy all the supplies: pots, soil, a watering can, and a few plants I had no idea how to care for.  

But I was confident I would become a plant mom in no time. 

But as you might guess, things didn’t go as planned. I either watered them too much or too little, put them in too much sun or not enough. Despite my best efforts, a few of them started to wither. 

I felt a little defeated—why was this so hard? 

After doing a little research, I quickly realized my mistake. I had not taken the time to learn what each plant needed to grow. Some love sunlight, and some love shade. Some want constant watering, while others prefer dry soil. I had been treating them all the same—assuming what worked for one should work for another. 

Life with God isn’t so different. How often do I make my plans, set my expectations, and assume things should grow a certain way? But when something withers—when relationships change, when opportunities don’t work out, or when life takes an unexpected turn—I feel lost. 

But God is the Master Gardener, not me. 

He knows exactly what He’s doing. Sometimes He prunes things I thought were good. Sometimes, He allows seasons of waiting, where nothing seems to be happening. And sometimes, He uproots me entirely and plants me somewhere unexpected. Just like with my plants, I may not always understand why—but that does not mean He isn’t working in my life.  

Maybe you are in a season of your life that does not make sense. Can I encourage you? 

Trust the Gardener. After all, a plant can’t see the full picture—but it does not have to. It simply needs to trust that the gardener knows how to make it bloom. 

“Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful.” 

1 Corinthians 13:4-5

The second the car starts, the blast of cold air hits me like a wave. I fold my arms, pressing them tightly against my chest, trying to hold in the warmth. 

David does not seem to notice. He sits comfortably, one hand on the wheel, humming absently to the song on the radio. I could not take it anymore, so I reached for the air dial and turned up the heat. 

A few moments later, David casually turns it back down. 

I say nothing. He says nothing. But my jaw tightens just slightly.  

Why does he always do that? Why can’t he be the one to adjust? 

I cross my arms, staring out the window, watching the world blur past in streaks of green and gray. I could argue. I want to argue. It is not about the air. Not really. It is about the principle. 

But then, a thought sneaks in—Do you really have to win this? 

Yes, I want to be comfortable. I want to be considered. I want my way! But after I thought about it, I realized that love—real love—doesn’t demand its way. It does not keep score or measure degrees of fairness. So, I reach into the back seat, pull a blanket over my legs, and let the cold air stay. 

Jesus laid down everything for us. He did not demand His way. He gave everything. His life. His comfort. His rights. 

And here I am, learning that love means choosing someone else’s well-being over my own. It is not easy. But in the moments I choose to give instead of receive, I reflect a love so much greater than my own. 

So, today—maybe right now—there’s a moment where you can take the road of love too. Not because you have to, but because you can. Because love, at its core, is a choice. 

“Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.”

Psalm 51:10

I stood in the garage, hands on my hips, staring down the mess.

Inside were towers of boxes, old furniture, and bins overflowing with things I had meant to deal with “later.” Later had turned into never, and now the clutter had taken over.

I reached for a random box and pried it open. Inside, a tangle of old cords, a pair of faded curtain panels, and a sweatshirt I thought I had lost. I held them up, remembering the season of life they came from. So much had changed.

None of this stuff was serving its intended purpose at all. Instead of being a space for something useful, like parking our cars, our garage had turned into a storage unit for things we didn’t need. So, we got to work—sorting, tossing, and making hard decisions about what to keep.

At first, it felt overwhelming, but as we worked together, we could see the transformation taking place. The more we cleared out, the more space we created, and the more we realized how much we had been holding onto things that weren’t serving us. By the time we finished, it was like we had a whole new space.

That is when it hit me: this is exactly what God wants to do in my heart. Over time, I let things build up like worries, grudges, and distractions. These are things that crowd out what He wants for me.

But just like clearing that garage, letting God work in my life takes effort. I have to choose to let go, to make space, and to trust that He is replacing the clutter with something better.

So, what about you? What’s taking up space in your heart that doesn’t belong? What could happen if you let God in to do the deep cleaning? The process might not be easy, but the freedom that follows is worth every bit of the work.

“But encourage one another daily, as long as it is called ‘Today,’ so that none of you may be hardened by sin’s deceitfulness.”

Hebrews 3:13

I was never much of a baseball person, but my nephews? They live for it.

So when my oldest nephew had a game, my husband, daughter, and I found ourselves packed into the stands at the Ruston Sports Complex, surrounded by the unmistakable sounds of spring—bats cracking, kids laughing, and parents shouting a few “helpful” suggestions to the umpire.

As my nephew stepped up to the batter’s box, I felt a surge of pride, knowing he was giving his all on the field. With each swing of the bat, we erupted into applause.

The opposing team was really good, and they gave our athletes a challenge on every play. As innings passed, the score remained neck and neck. When the game concluded, the scoreboard showed a tie, and the audience applauded from both sets of stands.

And as we gathered our things and headed home, it dawned on me. The real victory was how these families encouraged those kids.

Every day, people around us are stepping up, trying, pushing forward. Some are facing battles no one sees. And just like those little leaguers, they need someone in the stands cheering them on.

Who in your life needs to hear, “I see you. You are doing great. Keep going”? Maybe that is the most important thing you will say today.

As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God’s varied grace.

1 Peter 4:10

When I first got my little red truck, I wished I hadn’t. It was small, dinged-up and had a bullet hole—not exactly the dream vehicle for a teenager trying to fit in.

At first, I was embarrassed. People would make jokes about it, and I would laugh along while secretly wishing for something a little nicer.

Then one day, my friend needed a ride to church. I hesitated, but I said yes. Then another friend needed a lift. Then someone else. Before long, my vehicle was packed with people, week after week, headed to a place where they could hear about Jesus.

The more I used it to help others, the less I cared about its dents and scratches. They did not define its worth, just like my own imperfections did not define mine. What I once saw as embarrassing became one of the greatest tools God had ever given me.

How often do we do that? How often do we look at what we have—our time, our resources, our gifts—and decide they aren’t good enough? We assume we need something bigger, better, or more polished before God can work through us. But that is never how He operates.

God doesn’t ask for perfection. He asks for willingness.

Maybe you have been holding back, waiting for something better before you step out. But what if what you have right now is exactly what God wants to use? What if the little, ordinary, unimpressive thing in your hands is the key to something bigger than you imagined?

Because in God’s hands, nothing is too small to make a difference.

“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”

Matthew 11:28

I could feel the weight of it pressing on my chest before I even opened my eyes.

The endless list of things to do. The responsibilities. The expectations. The constant need to plan, manage, and make sure everything stayed together.

I had started this year with so much hope. I had set my goals, mapped out my plans, and committed to growing in my faith. But now? Now I just felt tired. I was doing everything I could to keep up, but no matter how hard I tried, there was always something slipping through the cracks.

Sitting in the quiet of the morning, Bible in hand, I felt the frustration rising. Lord, I’m trying. I really am. But it never feels like enough.

And then, in the stillness, a truth settled over me like a warm embrace: It was never supposed to be yours to carry.

Tears blurred my vision. I had spent so much energy trying to control things that were never mine to control. I had mistaken worry for responsibility, as if my stress could somehow change outcomes.

But God had never asked me to hold the weight of the world.

He had called me to prayer, not pressure. He had asked me to seek Him. To trust, not control.

I had been exhausting myself over things I was never meant to manage, when all He had ever asked me to do was prepare my heart for where He was leading.

And so, I let go.

Not because everything was fixed. Not because I suddenly had all the answers. But because I finally understood—peace does not come from control. It comes from trust.

Maybe you are feeling it, too. The weight, the worry, the overwhelming pressure to figure everything out. But friend, you do not have to carry this.

God is already holding everything in His hands.

Let yourself breathe again. Let yourself rest. Just seek Him.

That is all He has ever asked.

And that is enough.

 

Psalm 23

1 The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
2 He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters.
3 He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.
4 Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me;
    your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
5 You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD forever.

“For we walk by faith, not by sight.”

2 Corinthians 5:7

“What if we stepped out in faith, together?”

That’s the question my friend and I in high school kept circling around. We had talked for months about starting a Bible study—dreaming of growing in our faith, learning from each other, and supporting one another. But the more we thought about it, the more uncertain we felt.

Were we really qualified? Would anyone even come?

But one afternoon, after another heart-to-heart about what God might be calling us to do, we made a decision. We prayed for courage and clarity, and just like that, we took the plunge.

We began meeting weekly, unsure of what we would find, but we trusted that God would be in the middle of it. Though we questioned out abilities, we clung to our belief that God doesn’t call the equipped—He equips the called.

Our first Bible study was small, just the two of us, but it felt like a great start. We discussed passages from the Bible, asked questions, and prayed for each other.

We did not have all the answers. But we were willing. Willing to show up. Willing to open our Bibles and learn together. Willing to trust that even our small, hesitant steps could become something bigger than we could see.

And they did! Week after week, our group began to grow. More friends joined. We didn’t know it then, but God was at work in our hearts—and in theirs.

Starting that Bible study taught me something I’ll never forget: God uses our small steps of obedience to do far more than we could ever imagine.

So, if there is something God is stirring in your heart today, don’t wait for the “perfect” moment. You do not need to have all the skills or the answers! You just need to say yes. Take a step, right where you are, and watch how God will use your obedience to bless others in ways you never expected.