The Connection Corner

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

The Upside‑Down Way of Jesus

Colossians 3:10 — Put on your new nature and be renewed as you learn to know your Creator and become like Him.

The way of Jesus is so, so, so much better than you could ever imagine.

At times, it does ask things of us that feel unnatural—release, forgiveness, surrender—but it returns to you what your soul has been aching for all along.

I picture Him standing on a hillside, looking at people who may have every reason to hold grudges, every reason to protect themselves, and every reason to demand their own way. But He says the unthinkable. He says love your enemy. Bless the one who hurt you.

That’s His way: to loosen my grip when I’d rather clench tighter, to forgive when bitterness feels right, and to trust Him when my plans seem clearer.

Here’s the tension. Everything in me wants control, but everything in Him invites surrender. What He asks can feel impossible. Because forgiving doesn’t feel strong. Surrender doesn’t feel strategic. Trust doesn’t feel efficient.

It feels exposed.

And yet every yes to Him becomes a doorway into freedom. Forgiveness unclenches the war in my chest and lets peace rush in. Surrender lifts the weight I was never built to carry. Trust steadies my heart when impatience threatens to undo it.

I see Him again—kneeling with a towel, washing dusty feet that will walk away from Him. He is teaching not just with words, but by his posture, showing me that strength in His kingdom looks like humility. Losing your life is somehow how you find it.

If I refuse His way because it feels unnatural, I miss the renewal my soul is craving.

Because that renewal doesn’t come from striving—it comes from knowing Him, and letting that knowing change me.

This is the invitation: to put on the new self He has given me, to let my mind and heart be renewed as I learn to truly know the One who made me, becoming more like Him instead of clinging to the old version of me. That’s what this is. Not behavior polishing—heart-level renewal. Following the teaching of Christ when the old way feels more familiar. Choosing His image over my impulses.

In the soil of obedience, something sweeter grows. His way is gentle where the world is harsh, kind where life feels cruel, and wise where my own understanding fails. To walk with Jesus is to learn that joy doesn’t hinge on outcomes, but on presence. What feels like loss can become gain.

The bottom line is this: His way reshapes you into who you were created to be.

So I’m learning to open my hands. To forgive quicker. To surrender sooner. To trust deeper. Not because it feels natural—but because I want the new self He’s forming in me.

And that renewal begins the moment I say yes to His way.

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

What part of following Jesus feels most “unnatural” to you right now—surrender, forgiveness, or trust?
Where are you tempted to cling to your “old self” instead of stepping into the new one?
How have you experienced real change—not from trying harder, but from knowing God more?
What might it look like to choose His way in one specific situation this week?
What is one area where God may be inviting you into deeper renewal?

March 31, 2026/by Brenda Price

Living Hope, Every Easter

Bri Dunn, Daily Devotional

1 Peter 1:3 — Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to His great mercy, He has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.

We always looked good on Easter Sunday.

My mom didn’t play about details—fresh relaxer, a new shade of Estée Lauder lipstick, the perfect shoes lined up by the door. My dad and brother weren’t as invested, but my mom and I? We loved it. Easter meant tradition. Family photos. Walking into church polished and pressed.

And if I’m honest, I loved what came after just as much.

Crawfish by the lake that afternoon. The snowball stand down the road. Sticky fingers stained red and purple. Cousins laughing too loud around a wooden table. I knew Easter was about Jesus—but I also knew I couldn’t wait for the after fun.

We pulled into the church parking lot and I remember blinking twice. Cars everywhere. Lined down the road. Parked in the grass. Inside, it was standing room only.

The orchestra sounded bigger than usual. The choir didn’t hold back. And when my pastor walked on stage, there was a weight to it—like he had something he had to say. My friends and I sat together, but instead of passing notes or playing games on the back of the bulletin, we were quiet. Something felt different.

When the salvation invitation came, people moved toward the altar. And not casually. They came to the altar like they needed hope. Some knelt. Some lifted their hands. Some just bowed their heads and cried. I remember looking around thinking, “This isn’t about outfits or pictures. They aren’t worried about lunch. Something real is happening.”

Not just emotion—but lives being changed. People being made new.

Later that day, snowball syrup still sweet on my lips and crawfish shells piling up beside me, I couldn’t shake it. Easter really is about an empty grave. In God’s great mercy, he sent Christ to defeat death and give us real hope. Living hope.

And it wasn’t just for the people at the altar that morning. It was for the anxious mom sitting three rows back. The teenager trying to figure out who she is. The dad who showed up because it’s Easter and that’s what you do.

It was for me, and it was for you.

Don’t get me wrong, I still love getting dressed up and eating snowballs with my little family, but that’s not why I celebrate Easter. When you realize the resurrection is personal, Easter stops being a tradition—and becomes a turning point.

This Easter, walk in ready. Ready to worship. Ready to respond. Ready to remember that the same power that raised Jesus from the dead is still offering living hope today.

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

What has Easter meant to you in the past—tradition, family, faith, or something else?
When have you experienced a moment where faith felt suddenly real or personal?
What does “living hope” look like in your life right now?
In what areas do you need to experience new life or renewal?
How can you come into this Easter “ready”—not just present, but open?

March 30, 2026/by Bri Dunn

The Donkey and the Different King

Daily Devotional, David Hall

Psalms 145:1-2 — I will exalt you, my God and King, and praise your name forever and ever. I will praise you every day; yes, I will praise you forever.

The road into Jerusalem is loud that day.

Dust rises beneath sandals. Palm branches wave in the air. People shout over each other, adrenaline and hope mixing into something electric. Word has spread fast—Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead. A man who had been buried. Four days gone. Now alive.

If He can call a dead man out of a tomb, surely He can overthrow Rome.

The crowd knows what kind of king they want. A warrior. A conqueror. Someone to flex power and fix everything immediately. Their voices swell as He approaches the city gates.

They line the road with palm branches. They shout. They wave. This has to be it.

But He isn’t riding a warhorse. He’s riding a donkey.

It doesn’t fit the script. Still, he raised the dead. “Hosannah in the highest,” they shout.

But Jesus knows exactly what kind of king He is.

And whether the crowd understood it or not, He was still worthy of their praise that day—and every day after.

His power is real—He just refuses to wield it the way they expect. His victory will come through surrender, through sacrifice, through a rugged cross waiting just beyond the city walls.

Palm Sunday exposes something in every heart: we are quick to trust God when everything goes according to our plans. But Jesus is still king when life doesn’t unfold the way we imagined.

So praise Him for who He is, not just for what you hoped He would do. Exalt Him in the middle of unfinished business. Everyday and forever. The King who rode into Jerusalem lowly and humble is still reigning. Still powerful. Still good.

And He’s still saving the day.

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

When is it hardest for you to praise God—when things are uncertain, delayed, or not going your way?
Have you ever had expectations of God that didn’t match how He actually worked in your life?
What does it look like to praise God for who He is, not just for what He does?
How can you build a daily rhythm of praise, even in seasons of “unfinished business”?
Where might God be inviting you to trust His way—even when it doesn’t fit your expectations?

March 29, 2026/by David Hall