The Connection Corner
A daily source of encouragement and inspiration to connect your heart to hope and faith.
Daily Devotional
Faith After the FalloutJune 3, 2026 - 7:00 am- Longing Less, Living MoreJune 2, 2026 - 7:00 am
- Running Home to RestJune 1, 2026 - 7:00 am
- When Joy Fills RoomsMay 31, 2026 - 7:00 am
- The Dinner Table DiscoveryMay 30, 2026 - 7:00 am
- Love That Didn’t Look AwayMay 29, 2026 - 7:00 am
- Discipline, Desire, DelightMay 28, 2026 - 7:00 am
- Loved Louder than LabelsMay 27, 2026 - 7:00 am
- Rest for the RingmasterMay 26, 2026 - 7:00 am
- When Grief Keeps GoingMay 25, 2026 - 7:00 am
Heart of the Artist
- When Joy Fills RoomsMay 31, 2026 - 7:00 am
- Paddleboards and PraiseMay 24, 2026 - 7:00 am
- When Silence Finds a SongMay 17, 2026 - 7:00 am
- The Blood-Bought Glow UpApril 26, 2026 - 7:00 am
- Peace is Still PreachingApril 19, 2026 - 7:00 am
Stories About Songs
- When Joy Fills RoomsMay 31, 2026 - 7:00 am
- Paddleboards and PraiseMay 24, 2026 - 7:00 am
- When Silence Finds a SongMay 17, 2026 - 7:00 am
- The Blood-Bought Glow UpApril 26, 2026 - 7:00 am
- Peace is Still PreachingApril 19, 2026 - 7:00 am
Beauty from the Broken Places
Brenda Price, Daily DevotionalSo, there is this story that I just love. It’s about an old a woman who carried two pots of water every day.
The first pot was solid and smooth, absolutely perfect. The other had a thin crack running down its side, and by the time she reached home, it would only be half full.
One day the cracked pot apologized.
“I am just so sorry for leaking.”
It can’t do what it was made to do. It expects correction. Maybe replacement. But instead, the woman smiles and points behind them.
“Don’t you see?” she exclaimed, “I planted seeds along your side of the path, and every day you watered them. Look at all these flowers.”
The pot then saw what she meant. Along the cracked pot’s side, flowers burst in vibrant colors everywhere, stretching toward the morning light. Life was spilling all over the dirt.
You know, God does the same thing with each and every one of us. He uses our cracks to water the world in ways we can’t even see. We can’t live in defeat when we make mistakes or when we can’t hold everything together.
That’s what Psalm 145:14 promises—that the Lord helps the fallen and lifts those bent beneath their loads. He doesn’t throw away what feels cracked; He carries it. Not after we fix ourselves. Not once the bent or cracked places in our lives disappear.
He is the One lifting you each and helping you every day along your path, and somehow He is even using the broken parts of your story to bring life to others.
So don’t be ashamed of your scars. Don’t be ashamed of your brokenness. Use how God healed you to share those with people who need the glory of God and who need healing, empowerment, encouragement, and hope.
Keep walking and trusting that even now, life is growing along the path behind you.
A MOMENT TO REFLECT
Red Bird Redemption
Daily Devotional, Kirstie FordIt was a Sunday afternoon, and I found myself outside soaking up the sun. It was a beautiful, sunny day. The sun was shining brightly, but on the inside, gloomy was an understatement for how I felt.
You see, alcohol had a stronghold on me for nearly twelve years. The good news is our Savior is still in the business of saving, and His love is still reaching.
On that particular day, I found myself sitting outside with my head between my knees when something made me look up. Right in front of me was a red bird. It shocked me because cardinals weren’t common in my neighborhood. But there it was.
The world around me felt dull, but its bright red coloring was so vibrant—impossible to ignore. As a mom, it reminded me of a picture book I used to read my girls that reads, “Red bird, red bird, what do you see?” When I asked myself that question, the only answer I had was this.
It was something alive. The cardinal was something bright and bold and stunning, and it stood out so much against the heaviness I was carrying inside.
My youngest daughter, who was two years old at the time, walked up to me and asked, “Mommy, why are you so sad?” I thought to myself, “How did she know?” In that moment, I broke, and tears began flowing down my face.
After that day, I started noticing red birds everywhere. One on a fence post. Another at my grandma’s house. One more perched just long enough for me to really see it before flying away. At first, I brushed it off. But after a while, it became hard to ignore.
It began to dawn on me that the Holy Spirit was trying to get my attention, gently reminding me of what had already been set in motion that Sunday afternoon.
Looking back, I know the red bird wasn’t a coincidence, and its color wasn’t just a color. Curious, I looked up what red birds symbolize, and I learned that in Christian literature, the cardinal often represents the blood of Jesus, hope, and the presence of the Holy Spirit.
That truth settled deep in my soul. It was a reminder of Christ’s blood, poured out for me, covering every failure, every mistake, and every sin. It was as if God was showing me, in a way I could see and understand, that I wasn’t beyond redemption. His blood poured out for me on the cross secured my freedom—He didn’t want a sacrifice. He was the sacrifice. He wanted me to trust Him with all my heart and surrender to His will.
Scripture puts words to what my heart was learning to believe: “Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom” (2 Corinthians 3:17). Outside of that powerful truth, I don’t know how else to explain it. Freedom didn’t just mean the absence of alcohol—it meant the presence of the Spirit reshaping my life. That Sunday that was the last day alcohol would have a stronghold on my life. What I thought had me bound no longer had the final say.
Now, every time I see a red bird, I remember the moment I looked up and saw proof that God was with me—and that He still is. If you’ve ever struggled with addiction, or anything that makes you feel trapped with no way out, you understand the weight of guilt, shame, and regret. But here is the truth: God’s grace is bigger than our past, and His love is stronger than any of our failures. The enemy thought he had me, but Jesus said, “Nope—she’s mine!”
If you are reading this and feel like you are bound, with no way out, maybe today is an invitation to look up. You never know what God might be using to get your attention. You might just find hope—unexpected, unmistakable hope—in a way you least expect it.
A MOMENT TO REFLECT
Worry Isn’t Working Overtime
Bri Dunn, Daily DevotionalIt’s 11:23 pm, the house is finally quiet, the lights are off, my phone is face-down on the nightstand. The day was good. Productive. Even joyful. Which somehow makes what happens next more annoying.
I’m lying there, grateful, tired in the good way, when my brain decides this is the perfect moment to host a meeting about everything sad, unpaid, and unresolved in my life.
It starts small.
Did I remember to pay that bill? Wait—am I behind on that? Did I actually schedule that appointment, or just mean to? Oh. And while we’re at it, what about all the other things?
One harmless question turns into my whole future crashing around me. And what’s crazy is how responsible my anxiety feels. Like if I just think hard enough and worry more, I might get ahead.
But here’s the thing I’m learning: worry is not the same as productivity. It pretends to be helping, but it isn’t. None of my worries are as urgent as they feel, and absolutely none of them are solvable at this time of night.
And right then, I remember words I’ve read a hundred times but suddenly need again:
“Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” (Matthew 6:34)
Again, tomorrow has enough trouble of its own. Those worries just steal time that wasn’t given to them. And peace, I’m realizing, is actually found by setting boundaries that block anxiety.
So instead of wrestling my thoughts, I start handing them over to God. The bills. The unanswered emails. The unfinished tasks. I just set them down and fall asleep. This isn’t denial—it’s trust in a Father who already knows what we need. Because at just the right time, I know God will take care of me.
And none of that is happening at 11:23 at night.
So if you’re lying awake right now with your mind running laps, let this be your permission slip to stop. Name what’s stealing your rest, then gently place it back in God’s hands.
Because those problems will still be there tomorrow.
And so will the Lord—already waiting to help you face them.
A MOMENT TO REFLECT