The Connection Corner
A daily source of encouragement and inspiration to connect your heart to hope and faith.
A daily source of encouragement and inspiration to connect your heart to hope and faith.
Media Ministries, Inc.
101 N. 2nd Street, Suite 200
West Monroe, LA 71291
Office Phone: (318) 387-1230
Studio Line/Text Line: (318) 651-8870
Mailing Address:
PO Box 3265
Monroe, LA 71210
Willingness Over Perfection
Daily Devotional, Sarah HallWhen 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.
Ask Boldly, Receive Abundantly
Daily Devotional, Mornings with LisaHe almost didn’t do it.
His mom’s diagnosis had turned their world upside down, and he wanted to help. But what could a 14-year-old really do?
The idea had formed in a rush: if he shaved his head, he could raise money for cancer research. But standing on his neighbor’s porch now with a pair of clippers, he felt ridiculous.
He clutched them in his hand like a lifeline. “Uh—hi,” he started, voice cracking. “My mom has cancer. I want to raise money for research, so I’m shaving my head. Would you be willing to donate?”
Silence.
His heart pounded. The awkwardness clawed at him, but then the neighbor asked, “How much are you hoping to raise?”
He shared his goal. It sounded impossible the moment he said it, but the neighbor disappeared inside. When he returned, he handed the boy a check for a thousand dollars. The exact amount!
The boy’s mouth fell open. “Wait. What?”
The neighbor just smiled. “Yeah, and I am also going to talk at our homeowners’ association meeting tonight about how we can do more.”
He walked home with the check in hand, mind spinning. He had expected pocket change. But this? This was so much bigger.
All he had done was ask. And generosity had answered—louder than he ever imagined.
We tell ourselves we are too small to make a difference. That what we have to offer could never be enough. But maybe the real question is not if we can help. Maybe it is whether we are willing to step out, awkward and unsure, and simply try.
Because sometimes, when we do, hope shows up in ways we never saw coming.
Ice Cream and Friendship
Afternoons with Lauren, Daily DevotionalKenny had learned the hard way that people don’t always care. His home life was falling apart, and he carried that weight on his shoulders every day.
At school, he kept to himself, thinking that if he stayed quiet enough, no one would notice the pain he was carrying.
But Katie noticed.
The other kids laughed when Kenny stumbled and scattered his books across the cafeteria floor, but Katie didn’t. Kenny had braced himself, eyes locked on the floor when suddenly, another pair of hands reached down to help. He looked up to see her.
She did not even hesitate. She just handed him his books and said, “Come on, let’s get ice cream.”
Kenny stared at her. “What?”
She shrugged. “Ice cream fixes a lot.”
He wanted to tell her no, that he was fine, that she did not have to waste her time. But something about the way she looked at him—like she saw him—made him follow her out the door.
They did not talk about what had happened. She did not ask questions. They just sat together in the school courtyard, letting the warmth of the sun and the cold of the ice cream do what words couldn’t. And in that quiet space, Kenny felt something shift.
For the first time in a long time, Kenny did not feel invisible.
Years later, at graduation, Kenny prepared to give his valedictorian speech. He took a deep breath and leaned into the microphone.
“Most people think life is changed by big moments,” He paused and looked at Katie, “but sometimes, it’s something small. A kindness I didn’t deserve, from someone who didn’t have to care.”
When I think about Kenny and Katie, I am reminded that loving people like Jesus doesn’t have to be complicated. Sometimes, it looks like stopping for someone who thinks no one would.
Dear one, who in your life needs that kind of love? It doesn’t take much to change the trajectory of someone’s world.
You never know. It really could mean everything.