The Gift That Changes Everything

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Matthew 25:40 — Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.

Sergio grew up learning how to hide. He kept his right arm tucked away, hoping the world would be too busy to notice what was missing. He trained his left hand to write, to eat, to carry on like everything was fine. And most days, it was fine enough—until it wasn’t.

Like on the baseball field.

That was where Sergio learned there were some things you simply could not fake. His friends tossed balls back and forth, leather snapping against leather, while he stood on the sidelines with a smile that hid the hurt.

But then something remarkable happened. A group of classmates—ordinary teenagers with more heart than sense—decided Sergio needed a hand. Literally. They weren’t surgeons, and they sure weren’t engineers. Just kids with a 3D printer and a stubborn streak.

They measured, tinkered, glued, and fiddled. Piece by piece, a contraption came together. One afternoon, they strapped it on Sergio’s arm. Someone fetched a baseball. Sergio braced himself for disappointment.

But when that ball hit the plastic palm and stuck, the air caught in his throat. He had caught it. Him. For the first time in his life.

The whole crowd of teenagers went wild. You’d have thought Sergio had just won the World Series. And he laughed until his stomach hurt.

That plastic hand didn’t just catch a ball. It caught something far more valuable: kindness. It caught the proof that people had seen him, cared enough to try, and loved him through their effort.

Years later, Sergio still remembers the gift. Not because it was fancy, but because it was offered in love. And maybe that’s the point.

“Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for Me.” — Matthew 25:40

God gives us all sorts of gifts. Some come wrapped in skill, others in knowledge, but the ones that change the world are the ones wrapped in simple caring. Sergio’s story is a reminder that you don’t need a 3D printer to make a difference. Sometimes the greatest gift you can offer is your heart.

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • Who in your life might be standing on the sidelines, quietly hoping to be seen?
  • What simple act of kindness could you offer this week that would show someone they’re loved and noticed?
  • How does Matthew 25:40 challenge the way you see everyday opportunities to serve others?
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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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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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When Being Right Hurts

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Matthew 6:12 — And forgive us our sins, as we have forgiven those who sin against us.

A year is a long time not to speak to someone.

At first, you don’t notice how long it’s been. The days pile up quietly, like snow on a roof, until one morning the weight could cave you in. That was me staring at the silent phone in my living room and thinking about the fight that started it all.

I had been determined to be right. Not “right” in the polite, let’s-agree-to-disagree kind of way. I mean one-hundred-percent, no-question-about-it, paint-it-on-a-billboard kind of right.

I told him so.

I told him exactly what I thought about the way he treated my sister and me compared to our half-brother. The words came hot and fast. Dad’s anger rose to meet mine, and somewhere in that heat, I crossed the line from honest to hurtful.

Instead of walking it back, I planted my feet. I dug my heels in like a stubborn mule. And he did the same.

So began the longest silence of my life. Christmas came. No call. My birthday. His birthday. Father’s Day. No call. Somewhere along the way, “being right” began to feel empty. It was like carrying a trophy no one wanted.

Then one day the phone rang.

It was my dad’s best friend.

“Tammi,” he said, “you’ve got to make things right with your dad. This tension between you two, it’s killing him.”

I didn’t hesitate. “No. He’s wrong. Flat wrong.”

There was a pause. Then he said the words that split my pride in two:

“Tammi, it doesn’t matter who’s right or wrong when you walk up to his coffin.”

Those words took the air right out of me. In that moment, “being right” didn’t seem nearly as important as forgiveness. I wanted to be close to my dad again.

So that same day, I drove to his house. I told him I was sorry—for my pride, my sharp words, and my stubbornness. I asked for his forgiveness, and he gave it.

That day, I learned you can win an argument and still lose what matters most. God knew what He was talking about when He taught us to pray, “Forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.”

That’s why we need both kinds of grace. We need the kind that flows to us and the kind that flows from us.

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Tell Your Heart to Beat Again

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Psalms 73:26 – My health may fail, and my spirit may grow weak, but God remains the strength of my heart; he is mine forever.

They tell me the smell of an operating room stays with you.

Cold. Sharp. Like steel and lemon.

Randy Phillips wasn’t a surgeon. He was a pastor and a singer in the band Phillips, Craig & Dean. But there he was, watching a friend perform open-heart surgery in an Ohio hospital. The lights were white-hot, the room too quiet except for the patient’s heart monitor, and every movement felt like it had been rehearsed a thousand times.

The repair was finished. The surgeon massaged the heart gently, coaxing it to life.

Nothing.

He tried again. Still nothing. That silence was deafening, like the whole room was holding its breath.

Then the surgeon did something strange. He pulled off his mask, bent down close to the patient’s ear, and said in the kind of voice you’d use to redirect a scared child.

“Mrs. Johnson, this is your surgeon. The operation went perfectly. Your heart has been repaired. Now tell your heart to beat again.”

And it did.

That moment followed Randy home to Nashville. It wouldn’t let him go. So, he sat down with Bernie Herms and Matthew West, and they turned a hospital whisper into a song. Phillips, Craig & Dean first recorded “Tell Your Heart to Beat Again” for their Breathe In album.

Years later, Danny Gokey heard it. He was carrying his own grief, and the song felt like it had been written just for him. He recorded his version in 2014, and by 2016 it was climbing the charts. But the real story was in the people writing letters and sending messages back—widows, widowers, and others who had lost children, jobs, health, and hope.

They’d play the song on repeat. Some said it got them out of bed in the morning. Some said it kept them from giving up entirely.

And I think about that surgeon’s whisper. Sometimes God works the same way—not with a shout or a lightning bolt, but with a quiet nudge in your ear. A reminder that there is still life left in you. That it’s time to breathe.

And maybe that’s where you are right now. Maybe the room feels cold and the silence is heavy. But the Surgeon hasn’t left. He’s leaning in close.

And He’s telling your heart to beat again.

 

 

Lyrics

You’re shattered like you’ve never been before
The life you knew in a thousand pieces on the floor
And words fall short in times like these
When this world drives you to your knees
You think you’re never gonna get back
To the you that used to be

Tell your heart to beat again
Close your eyes and breathe it in
Let the shadows fall away
Step into the light of grace
Yesterday’s a closing door
You don’t live there anymore
Say goodbye to where you’ve been
And tell your heart to beat again

Beginning, just let that word wash over you
It’s alright now, love’s healing hands have pulled you through
So get back up, take step one
Leave the darkness, feel the sun
‘Cause your story’s far from over
And your journey’s just begun

Tell your heart to beat again
Close your eyes and breathe it in
Let the shadows fall away
Step into the light of grace
Yesterday’s a closing door
You don’t live there anymore
Say goodbye to where you’ve been
And tell your heart to beat again

Let every heartbreak, and every scar
Be a picture that reminds you
Who has carried you this far
‘Cause love sees farther than you ever could
In this moment, heaven’s working
Everything for your good

Tell your heart to beat again
Close your eyes and breathe it in
Let the shadows fall away
Step into the light of grace
Yesterday’s a closing door
You don’t live there anymore
Say goodbye to where you’ve been
And tell your heart to beat again

Your heart to beat again
Beat again

Oh
So tell your heart to beat again

Songwriters: Bernie Herms / Randy Phillips / Matthew Joseph West

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Counting on God a Latte

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Isaiah 41:10 – Don’t be afraid, for I am with you. Don’t be discouraged, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will hold you up with my victorious right hand.

It was just spilled coffee.

Just a brown splash stain on a dress that wasn’t new and wasn’t even my favorite. But there I stood, blinking fast, tears mixing with the moisture from my coffee cup that’s now staining the fabric.

It wasn’t the coffee that got to me. It was that this was “one more thing.”

These days, I’ve turned into a clumsy, uncoordinated mess. I trip over nothing. I drop phones, books, and water bottles. Cups seem to leap from my hands before I even know I’ve lost my grip.

I read once that older folks become more prone to this. Something about damaged nerve endings that don’t send the right messages to the brain.

The balance and coordination that once happened without thinking now require effort.

I used to be steady. Steady as she goes. I could tie my shoes without leaning against anything. I could walk across the room without wondering if the floor would feel different under my feet.

My feet have always been my foundation. Without a good foundation, nothing else works the way it should.

And yet… the coffee in my lap reminded me of my only real foundation. My only steady thing. Jesus.

I wish aging didn’t come with so many humbling reminders of what I can’t do anymore. But maybe those reminders aren’t the worst thing. Maybe they’re the reason I keep leaning harder on Him.

I know someday I’ll walk without effort again. One day I’ll get a new body in Heaven, one with the balance of an Olympic gymnast. My steps will be sure, and my hands will hold things without slipping.

Until then, I’ll keep sipping my coffee and holding on to the One who never lets me down. And I invite you to, too.

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When God Whispers

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Proverbs 22:17 — Incline your ear, and hear the words of the wise, and apply your heart to my knowledge.

There are few things that test your patience like someone’s quirks. I have a friend who is just plain loud. And I do not mean “occasionally raises their voice” loud. I mean loud like a kitchen blender with no lid. Loud at breakfast, loud at lunch, loud even after the coffee wears off.

I will admit, I used to get aggravated. Sure, I knew my friend was a little hard of hearing, but (let’s be honest) I think the volume made them feel important. How hard could it be to use your inside voice?

Over time, I realized I was not proud of my attitude. And the truth hit me: in some ways, I do the exact same thing. We all want to feel noticed. We all want to matter. Nobody likes feeling invisible.

But that’s not really where I am going with this.

Later on, I was scrolling on my phone, and a caption struck me like lightning. It said, “If you really want to get someone’s attention, whisper.”

And it made me think about God. He could shout over every voice in the world if He wanted to. But more often than not, He whispers. He does not push His way into my attention span. He waits for me to draw near and talks to me in a still small voice.

I thought about how a whisper cuts through the noise, how it pulls you closer and forces you to focus. A whisper is not something you can half-hear. It demands attention.

That thought changed things for me. It made me want to change my own communication habits. What’s more, it made me want to start leaning in more—really listening— to God and to people.

Changing that one thing really helped me treat my friend better. I still hear her, but I have learned to wait for the pauses. The spaces in between. Past the quirks. In the silence. That is where you can hear what people are really saying.

It also helped me grow in my relationship with Jesus.

So, if I can give you one piece of advice today, focus on the best part. Listen to the whispers.

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The Back-to-School Basics

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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 am not sure I would enjoy back-to-school shopping these days.

I loved it back in the 80s. Back then, it was crayons instead of Chromebooks, aisles of clothes instead of apps, and number two pencils instead of passwords.

Mom and I would walk through the sliding glass doors of the department store, greeted by a blast of cool air and the smell of leather from the shoe department.

Racks of corduroy and plaid lined the aisles, and hangers clicked as families sorted through sizes. Over the store speakers, Cyndi Lauper or Huey Lewis played just loud enough for you to hum along.

We had our list—handwritten on notebook paper—tucked in Mom’s purse. There was no downloading a four-page PDF. No mobile app to check. Just a ballpoint pen to cross off items one by one.

I would head into the dressing room with armfuls of clothes, and she would wait outside, tilting her head and giving that look that said yes, no, or “maybe if it’s on sale.”

Sometimes we argued. I was sure those parachute pants were the answer to everything, but she disagreed. Still, we always left with our bags full and our spirits intact.

Those trips were more than errands. They were conversations in the car, food court pretzels with too much salt, and Coke Icees. They were the quiet moments when I knew, without her saying it, that she understood me better than anyone else.

Now, I see parents and adults in the thick of it—shopping from their phones in the pickup line, grabbing dinner between practices, and juggling logins and checklists. And I know many of them are wondering if they are making a difference in the lives of people God put in their lives.

But what if I told you that you still can?

Because for my mom, school shopping in the 80s was about building my confidence. That is what was top of her list. She also showed me she was glad to spend time with me. And she was curious. She asked questions that led to deeper connection.

See, that is something we are all still capable of doing. God is still equipping adults today to plant seeds for His kingdom.

So maybe the real question is not where you should shop but asking yourself: “whose backpack am I filling?”

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The Friend Who Makes A Way

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Galatians 6:2 – Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.

I try to imagine it, that story found in the Bible.

The air is thick with dust and curiosity. This is not some ordinary Tuesday in Galilee. No, ma’am. The Teacher is in town.

The streets are packed tighter than your aunt’s freezer before the holidays. Every soul within walking distance is pushing into that little house, leaning in to hear Jesus speak.

And then there is me — or at least, the me I am imagining. Flat on a mat. My legs have not worked since before I can remember, and I’ve been stuck there so long. Life has been happening around me, but it’s not like I can enjoy any of it.

So, I just resigned myself to being part of the scenery.

Until my friends showed up. They did not give me a chance to refuse; they just scooped me up and said we were going to see Jesus.

They carried me down the street, weaving through the crowd. When we could not get in, I assumed we would go home, but they just looked at each other, grinned, and climbed the roof.

Then they started pulling apart clay tiles and thatching. A minute later, I am staring down where the roof used to be into eyes and stunned crowd below.

Dust in my hair, sun in my eyes, I was lowered right in front of Him. Jesus looked at me like He had known me all my life. And the first thing He did was heal the part of me no one could see. He said my sins were forgiven. My soul felt lighter than my legs ever could.

Then He says gives me this in wonderful instruction:

“Get up.”

And I did. Every muscle, tendon, and ligament worked in perfect harmony. When I looked up, I saw my friends grinning down from that roof like they had just pulled off the heist of the century.

So, as I imagine myself there, this is what I have been turning over in my mind — some of the greatest miracles happen because someone else’s faith carried us to Jesus.

But what’s more is this. Most people wait their whole lives for a friend like that.

Some people decide to be one.

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A Fire Worth Waiting For

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Lamentations 3:25-26 — “The Lord is good to those who wait for Him, to the soul who seeks Him. It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord.”

In my family, a barbecue was never just a barbecue. You see, somebody always brought a casserole, someone else a guitar. Before the food ever hit the grill, we were already a few songs deep into our annual pickin’ and grinnin.’

That was normal for us. But one year, things got rowdy—fast.

Right as the music picked up, a scream came from the direction of the grill. Apparently, my sister—who has never been a fan of waiting on anything (least of all charcoal)—decided to hurry the process along.

In one dramatic moment, she squeezed a bottle of lighter fluid onto the coals, and flames exploded straight into the sky.

She screamed. We all jumped. And just like that, she was standing there, stunned, without a single eyebrow on her face.

Once we made sure she was okay, we laughed so hard we could barely breathe. But the truth is, it could have been a lot worse.

The moment became legendary in our family. Still, beneath the chaos, it taught us something we didn’t forget.

Rushing the process never works.

If you want those burgers ready by lunchtime, you better light that charcoal long before the hunger kicks in. And if you want something good to happen in your life, you’ve got to give it time. Pouring fuel on something just to make it go faster usually leads to more mess than progress.

That goes for dreams. That goes for healing. That goes for anything you’re waiting on.

Scripture tells us—again and again—to wait on God. Not because He’s slow, but because He’s wise. His pace isn’t punishment. It’s preparation. And when we push ahead without Him, we miss what was meant for us.

You can either trust that or learn the hard way.

So next time you’re tempted to rush God’s timing, just picture my sister standing in a cloud of smoke, holding an empty bottle of lighter fluid… with no eyebrows.

Because some things really are worth waiting for.

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