The Connection Corner

Never Stop Planting Seeds

Galatians 6:9 – “And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.”

Jonathan always thought his grandpa saw too much. Maybe it was age, or maybe it was wisdom, but he could read right through him…especially when Jonathan was unraveling.

It had been a rough stretch. One bad decision turned into ten. He was barely staying afloat. Jonathan hated how weak that made him feel, but Grandpa never scolded or lectured. He just kept calling and kept showing up.

Then came the call: “You think you could take me to Bible study tonight? My night vision is not what it used to be.”

That night, when they pulled into the church parking lot, Jonathan left the car running and began scrolling on his phone, but Grandpa surprised him.

“You can come in, if you want. Up to you.”

There was no pressure. No lecture. There was just a door left open.

Inside, Jonathan didn’t find pews or perfect people. He found men like him telling their real stories, real pain, and real hope. No one tried to clean him up. They just thanked God for the hope they had found.

By the end of the night, Jonathan realized: Grandpa had played him. The whole “I can’t drive at night” thing was a setup.

Grandpa had spent years planting seeds: cooking breakfast, praying when Jonathan didn’t know it, holding steady when everything else shook. This was just another seed planted, but it landed deep.

And Jonathan did not walk away the same. He didn’t become perfect overnight, but he did start to heal as he invited Jesus into His life.

Years later, Jonathan still remembers the sly grin Grandpa gave him after that night. He knew what he was doing. But what stuck most was not the trick. It was the love behind it. The patience. The years of small things that added up.

Maybe someone has done that for you, or maybe you are the one doing it for someone else.

Keep going.

Your steady prayers and faithfulness matter more than you know. You may not see the change yet, but God sees. And He is not finished.

So, keep planting. God brings the growth. Always.

June 11, 2025/by Linda Meyers

My Name Is Son

Daily Devotional, Heart of the Artist, Stories About Songs

1 John 3:1 – “See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are.”

They say you can’t miss what you never had, but that’s not true. I missed my dad—even when he was standing in the same room.

I grew up on a dairy farm in southern Vermont. We worked hard. We didn’t talk much. My dad was a man of few words, and I spent most of my boyhood trying to earn one of them. I just wanted to hear that he was proud of me. That I was enough.

But silence echoed louder than any shout.

By the time I was a teenager, the ache in my chest had a name: not good enough. And I learned how to quiet it. First with small lies. Then with alcohol. Then cocaine. Numb was better than nothing. High was easier than hurt.

I wasn’t chasing a thrill. I was running from the boy who never heard the words he needed most.

From the outside, I was the life of the party. Inside, I was unraveling.

Things got dark fast. Addiction doesn’t care if you’re from a good home. It doesn’t care if your mama prayed for you. It just takes. I was burning bridges with everyone I loved, and I didn’t care. I didn’t want to feel anything anymore.

Then came 2017.

My best friend—my anchor, really—died of a heroin overdose. I remember standing at his funeral, heart cracked open, wondering how I’d made it out alive when he didn’t. That was my rock bottom.

I wanted more. I needed more, and I reached for God. It was not with clean hands or a perfect prayer but with honest weakness. To my surprise, He met me there with the kind of love I had tried to earn my whole life.

I love you. I’m proud of you. You’re my son.

It undid me. I wasn’t the addict. I wasn’t the disappointment. I wasn’t just my dad’s silence or my worst mistake. I had a new name now. A new identity. Son.

That word changed everything.

I started writing songs, not for radio play or applause, but because I needed to speak the truth out loud—about pain, about healing, about God. Every time I write, I remember what freedom feels like. And I want others to know it too.

Because here’s the truth: no matter what your dad did or didn’t say, you already have a Father who loves you. He’s not ashamed of you. He’s not withholding anything. And He’s not going anywhere.

You’re not forgotten. You’re not too far gone.

Your name is Daughter. Your name is Son.

— Ben Fuller

Who I Am

I stand in front the mirror, But I don’t like who’s looking back at me
Wish I could see things clearer, like who I’m supposed to be
In every trial, lift me higher
Through the fire, hold me tighter
Remind me again, I was made for more

Who I am in the eyes of the Father, Who I am His love set free
Who I was I left at the altar, I am Yours Lord, I believe

It’s who I am – I’m a child of the most-high God and the most-high God’s for me
It’s who I am – I’m a child of the most-high God and the most-high God’s for me

Everything has been changing, You haven’t left a stone unturned
Anything I’ve been facing, I’ll keep standing on Your word
In the water, take me under
Fill my lungs to, to speak Your wonder
You brought me of the darkness, I was made for more

Who I am in the eyes of the father, Who I am His love set free
Who I was I left at the altar, I am Yours Lord I believe

It’s who I am – I’m a child of the most-high God and the most-high God’s for me
It’s who I am – I’m a child of the most-high God and the most-high God’s for me

You gave up everything, for me to have everything
For all of eternity, a song in my lungs to sing

I’m a child of the most-high God and the most-high God’s for me
I’m a child of the most-high God and the most-high God’s for me

Songwriters: Ben Fuller, David Spencer, Krystal Polychronis

June 10, 2025/by David Hall

God Likes Being With You

Daily Devotional, Lauren Kitchens-Steward

Galatians 3:26 – “For in Christ Jesus you are all sons of God, through faith.”

Somewhere between the smell of old books and the taste of chocolate ice cream, I learned what love looked like.

I don’t remember when it started, but every Thursday belonged to Dad and me. We’d head to the library first. That old building was nothing fancy, but it felt magical.

The children’s room had this mural of Christopher Robin and Pooh Bear sitting under a tree. There, I would lose myself in books with talking animals and far-off lands while Dad read the paper.

I never once felt rushed there. If anything, it felt like the clock slowed down.

Afterwards, Dad and I would sneak off to the ice cream parlor. Two scoops each. Ever the health enthusiast, Mom was a total health nut, always filling our plates with greens and grains—but come Thursday, we staged our deliciously sweet rebellion.

As the years passed and teenage freedoms called, Thursdays still belonged to the two of us. Even when I started driving, I would rush home after school, knowing Dad would be there waiting.

Family, maybe that’s how God thinks of you, too. He is a good father after all.

Not because you perform well. Not because you pray the right way or check the right boxes. But because you are His. Because He made you. Because it brings Him joy just to be near you.

Maybe all He wants today is to be with you. No agendas. No pressure. Just His quiet, steady presence, like a dad who shows up every Thursday because he loves his kid.

But the dessert He’s bringing isn’t ice cream—it’s delight. That’s what He offers you now, Dear One. Unhurried love and the sweetness of being wanted.

June 9, 2025/by Lauren Kitchens-Steward