“By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

John 13:35

The camp hall was alive with the sound of teenagers sharing their thoughts, struggles, and deepest questions. Their bell-bottom jeans brushed the floor; a girl with a braided headband tucked her knees to her chest.

A lanky boy with thick-rimmed glasses blurted out what everyone was thinking. “If love is supposed to fix everything, why does it feel like nothing changes?”

Their youth pastor, Peter Scholtes, had been listening from the back. As he stepped toward the wooden podium, he took a breath. He had no easy answer.

Outside the retreat, the world seemed fractured beyond repair. Tensions flared in the streets, communities splintered over ideologies. Even the church was not immune to the division. These teens carried that weight with them, and their confusion mirrored his own.

“I think,” he said slowly, “that the kind of love most people talk about is too small. But the love God calls us to? That’s the kind of love that can change everything.”

Hours later, after the teens went to bed, Peter sat alone in the makeshift chapel. The dim lights flickered, and the hum of cicadas filtered through the windows as he thought about their questions.

What could he give them—something that pointed to a love stronger than hate? He wasn’t trying to solve the world’s problems, but he felt compelled to give them something enduring. Pulling out a notebook, he began to write:

“We are one in the Spirit, we are one in the Lord 
And we pray that our unity will one day be restored 
And they’ll know we are Christians by our love.” 

The next morning, as the group sang the new hymn, the room seemed to change. Their voices wove together in a harmony that felt like hope.

Today, that same love still has the power to speak into the confusion and disillusionment of our lives. When the world feels too divided, too harsh, or too broken, remember that love is not passive. It is active, deliberate, and often sacrificial. Where can you choose to show that kind of love today? Who in your life needs to see God’s love through you?

 

 

“Worthy are you, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power, for you created all things, and by your will they existed and were created.”

Revelation 4:11

The world outside never seemed to stop turning, but here, by the lake, the world felt still. Maltbie Babcock moved slowly along the path, breathing in the scent of pine and earth.

He glanced out over the water and thought of the people he had passed in town earlier. Their faces, lined with worry and fatigue, spoke of burdens they could not lay down. In the whirlwind of a rapidly changing society, many were asking what the future held.

The world beyond the lake seemed so complicated, so fractured. Yet here, by the water’s edge, he saw a different truth. Creation was telling another story.

A heron took flight across the shimmering surface, its wings spread wide in perfect, effortless grace. Wildflowers burst with color as leaves rustled gently in the trees. Each detail whispered of a love that wasn’t hurried or uncertain but constant and intentional.

Maltbie slowed his pace. His breathing steadied as he let the scene before him speak. “This is God’s world,” he thought. “Even with its aches and uncertainties, it still belongs to Him!”

He paused to sit on a rock by the shore, pen in hand, and began to write a hymn:

This is my Father’s world: 
I rest me in the thought 
Of rocks and trees, of skies and seas— 
His hand the wonders wrought. 

And it is still His world, even now. Perhaps today, when you step outside and feel the breeze against your skin or watch the sun set on the horizon, you can be reminded of the same truth. God’s love is woven into every corner of His creation, and His love reaches deeper than any worry.

 

“The eternal God is your dwelling place, and underneath are the everlasting arms.”

Deuteronomy 33:27a

Lauren Daigle’s song “Hold on to Me” played softly in the background. As it did, the melody pulled me into a memory—the hardest season of my life.

I was in so much pain back then and did not know what to do. One day, someone in a support group suggested, “You should try handing your pain to Jesus.”

Desperate for relief, I decided to give it a try. Later that day when I was alone, I closed my eyes, whispered, “Jesus, take this pain from me,” and waited.

But nothing happened. The pain was still there, unchanged and unbearable.

When I shared my frustration with a friend, She offered a perspective that shifted everything. She said, “You don’t hand Jesus your pain. You let Jesus hold you and heal your pain.”

So, the next time I prayed, I asked, “Jesus, will you hold me?”

In that moment, something remarkable happened. My heart was met with a love so kind, so perfect, and so present that I could not help but weep.

Day after day, I returned to Him with the same simple request: “Hold me.” And every time, His peace came like a river. What surprised me most was how tenderly He met me in the places I had hidden, wounds I thought were beyond healing.

His presence became my refuge—a safe place where I could fall apart and start again. It was not instant or easy, but it was real.

Now, when I hear that song, I am reminded of how steady and healing His love is. If your heart feels shattered, please ask Him to hold you. I pray you will find the peace and healing you have been longing for all along.

 

“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.”

Romans 8:38-39

Grief can drown you—or it can carry you to love you never knew existed.

It began with a phone call—a moment that shattered John Mark’s world. His best friend Stephen had been in a car accident.

Just hours earlier, Stephen had prayed with fiery passion, asking God to reveal His love to others. It was a prayer for revival, for hearts to be changed. Now, he was gone.

The questions came in waves, relentless and unanswerable. How could someone so alive, so full of faith, be taken so suddenly? How could such a vibrant Christian’s life be cut short?

The loss was suffocating, like a wave that refused to break. So, John Mark let the tears fall and began to write a song.

“He is jealous for me. Loves like a hurricane, I am a tree.”

The song “How He Loves” was never meant to leave his room. It was John Mark McMillan’s way of processing the unthinkable. Yet, when the song began to spread, people were drawn to its honesty. It reminded them that God’s love is vast, unshakable, and personal, even in the hardest moments.

If your heart feels heavy today too, lean into this truth: God’s love is big enough to carry you, even now. Do not let go of it—it will never let go of you.