The Connection Corner

A daily source of encouragement and inspiration to connect your heart to hope and faith.

Lessons From the Grocery Store

1 Corinthians 15:10 — But whatever I am now, it is all because God poured out His special favor on me — and not without results. For I have worked harder than any of the other apostles; yet it was not I but God who was working through me by His grace.

The smell of warm bread and cleaning supplies still takes me back. Not to a bakery or my grandmother’s kitchen, but to the grocery store where I had my first job.

I was sixteen, awkward, and half-asleep most mornings. It wasn’t glamorous work. I stocked shelves, bagged groceries, and spent more time wrestling shopping carts than I care to admit.

I remember thinking, “This is just a paycheck.” But over time, that little grocery store became something else entirely.

There was the older cashier, who called everyone “Honey” and could calm the crankiest customer with a wink. There was also the manager who never raised his voice but somehow made you want to do better. And there were the regulars — the ones who showed up every Thursday for bread and milk, or just to talk to someone who’d listen.

I started to notice things I’d never paid attention to before. The tired dad who worked night shifts still finding a smile for his kids. The widow who counted out change in nickels and dimes but left the last cookie sample for someone else.

That store taught me more than I ever imagined. About patience. About showing up when I didn’t feel like it. About giving my best, even when nobody noticed.

It reminds me of what Paul wrote in 1 Corinthians 15:10: “But by the grace of God I am what I am, and His grace toward me was not in vain.” I can see now that every small task, every moment of showing up, was God’s grace quietly shaping me from the inside out.

Funny thing — I thought I was earning money, but I was really learning character. The kind that gets built one small choice at a time, in ordinary places with sticky floors and fluorescent lights.

Sometimes I wonder if that’s where God does His best work — right there in the middle of the everyday, quietly shaping us while we think we’re just bagging groceries.

Maybe the same is true for you. Maybe the thing that feels small or unseen is the very thing God is using to grow you. The ordinary work. The thankless task. The daily faithfulness that nobody applauds. He is in all of it—teaching, refining, and shaping you in ways that only become clear later.

So wherever you find yourself today—keep showing up. Keep doing the next right thing. Because even in the most ordinary corners of life, God is writing something extraordinary.

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

Think back to your first job or a season that felt ordinary. How did God use that time to shape your character?
How does it change your perspective to realize that grace can be at work in small, everyday moments—not just big, spiritual ones?
What part of your daily routine might God be using to teach you patience, humility, or compassion?
Paul said God’s grace toward him “was not in vain.” How can you live today in a way that lets His grace bear fruit in you?
What’s one “ordinary” task this week you can approach as worship—doing it with gratitude, knowing God is in it?

November 11, 2025/by Sarah Hall

From Hiding to Joy

Daily Devotional, David Hall

Ephesians 5:8 — For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Walk as children of light.

The dinosaur pajama top had Eli trapped, and his mom was having a harder time getting it off than she expected.

Every tug made Eli squirm, and his frustration bubbled up in every little squeal. So she started hiding her face behind the shirt and popping out with a grin. “Peekaboo!”

Eli’s laughter erupted like tiny fireworks, and his two teeth shone in a gummy smile. His shirt tugged, the game continued, and suddenly peekaboo was everything to him.

Soon, it grew into hide-and-seek. Eli and his older sister, Maya, ran through the house in a blur of giggles and fun. Eli, thinking he was clever, crouched behind the couch careful not to be seen.

Maya would count, loud and patient, then creep forward, calling, “Where’s Eli?” Her voice danced around him. And just when he thought he had escaped, she’d leap from around the corner with a triumphant, “I got you!” and his laughter would erupt again, unstoppable.

Eli thought he was hidden, but of course, he wasn’t. He was visible all along.

Sitting on the couch, watching them, his mom felt a sudden pang and tenderness. She recognized this behavior. It reminded her of all the ways people, including herself, try to hide their own struggles, mistakes, pain, shame, and fear.

We tuck them away like they’re fragile treasures, hoping no one will notice. Hoping somehow we can escape being found. But God sees. People see. And hiding never heals. It only delays the comfort and connection that we’re wanting and needing all along.

She thought about Adam and Eve hiding in the garden. Even back then, God was asking where they were. He knew, but all along, it was a tender invitation back to love.

Eli’s laughter echoed again. Maya’s shout bounced off the walls. And in that moment, surrounded by sunlight and giggles and the smell of pancakes, Mom felt the truth: life is better when we are found. So come into the light.

Scripture says in Ephesians 5:8, “For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Walk as children of light.”

So she leaned back and breathed in the noise, the chaos, the joy, the connection. Stop hiding, she thought. Let someone see. Let yourself be found.

Healing doesn’t start in secret. Healing starts in the laughter and the light. And when we finally stop hiding, the love that we wanted along can finally reach us.

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

What “hiding places” do you run to when you feel afraid, ashamed, or unworthy?
How does it change your view of God to remember that His call to “come into the light” is an invitation, not a condemnation?
When have you experienced the relief of being fully seen and still loved?
Who in your life might need your encouragement to “come into the light”?
What’s one small step you can take today to be more open—with God, with others, or even with yourself?

November 10, 2025/by David Hall

Finding Hope After Disaster

Brenda Price, Daily Devotional

Hebrews 11:1 — Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.

Running was the only thing that made sense back then.

I was jogging down an unfamiliar road, lungs on fire, legs shaking, but none of that compared to what I was feeling on the inside.

This was twenty years ago, not long after Katrina. I was living in a place that didn’t feel like home, surrounded by streets that held no memories. I told myself the run would help clear my mind, but grief doesn’t work that way. You can’t outrun the ache of what’s been lost. Everything I knew—my city, my neighborhood, my entire life—had been swallowed up by water.

Each step reminded me that I was in a place I hadn’t chosen. But Hebrews 11:1 says, ‘Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.’ That day, I realized I had to trust God even when I couldn’t see the full picture.

Even now, when I think about the streets of New Orleans where I grew up, something still catches in my throat. That feeling of having “hometown” ripped away from you, deep down in my heart, I know I will always struggle with it.

But that morning, I had my earbuds in, half-listening to a playlist, when a new song came on. It was Casting Crowns’ “Praise You in This Storm.”

No, I didn’t have a huge emotional breaking point or anything that day on the track, but the verses really touched me. I remembered slowing my pace to a stop to listen to the words. During that break, I just let the powerful lyrics of that song wash over me and my pain.

“And I’ll praise You in this storm

And I will lift my hands

For You are who You are

No matter where I am…”

That song became a lifeline in those long, lonely days after the storm. The timing of it, how it showed up right when my faith felt like splinters, wasn’t coincidence. It was God’s grace.

It was as if God Himself whispered, “I know what you see, but I need you to see Me in this too.”

And somehow, I did. Not through my eyes—they still saw devastation—but through a confidence that He was still good, still present, and still holding me when everything else had fallen apart.

Have you ever watched something crumble all around you like that and think “there’s no way good can come from this?” And yet, deep down, a small voice tells you to believe anyway?

That’s God, and that’s faith. It’s the unseen hope that carries you when you can’t carry yourself. And the remarkable thing is, God never leaves you there.

He keeps writing a better story, even when the page you’re on looks nothing like the ending you hoped for.

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

Have you ever faced a situation where you couldn’t see the outcome, yet felt God prompting you to trust Him? How did you respond?
Hebrews 11:1 speaks of faith as “the assurance of things hoped for.” What are some “things hoped for” in your life that require faith to hold onto?
How has music, prayer, or another form of encouragement helped you experience God’s presence in unseen ways?
What does it look like for you to praise God “in the storm” rather than only when things are calm?
How might you remind yourself of God’s unseen work when your circumstances feel overwhelming or uncertain?

Lyrics:

I was sure by now, God you would have reached down
And wiped our tears away,
Stepped in and saved the day.
But once again, I say amen
That it’s still raining
As the thunder rolls
I barely hear your whisper through the rain
I’m with you
And as your mercy falls
I raise my hands and praise
The God who gives and takes away

And I’ll praise you in this storm
And I will lift my hands
That you are who you are
No matter where I am
And every tear I’ve cried
You hold in your hand
You never left my side
And though my heart is torn
I will praise you in this storm

I remember when I stumbled in the wind
You heard my cry you raised me up again
My strength is almost gone how can I carry on
If I can’t find you
As the thunder rolls
I barely hear you whisper through the rain
I’m with you
And as your mercy falls
I raise my hands and praise
The God who gives and takes away

I lift my eyes unto the hills
Where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord
The maker of heaven and earth
I lift my eyes unto the hills
Where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord
The maker of heaven and earth