The Connection Corner

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

Choose the Longer Table

Romans 15:7 — Therefore welcome one another as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God.

The table is already full when I walk into the kitchen.

Extra food is laid out. Extra plates are stacked nearby. Chairs lean against the wall, ready if needed. And before I even sit down, a quiet gratitude rises in me.

Thank You, God.

But it hasn’t always felt this way.

If I’m honest, there have been seasons when abundance made me anxious instead of grateful. Times when I had more than enough and still felt the urge to guard it. To think, I worked hard for this. What if I need it later?

You might recognize that feeling.

Sometimes the struggle isn’t generosity—it’s control.

Some days I’m openhanded. Other days I’m cautious. The tension is familiar: Do I hold on, or do I let it flow?

And then, almost without warning, I remember something important.

I remember how I was welcomed.

I didn’t earn my seat at God’s table. I didn’t bring enough to justify being there. Grace wasn’t measured out carefully or guarded with conditions.

I was invited simply because that’s who God is.

There were no fences. No fine print. Just a place set for me.

And remembering that changes everything.

Generosity stops feeling like loss and starts looking like imitation—taking the same posture as Jesus. After all, Scripture says, “Welcome one another as Christ has welcomed you.”

That’s the pattern.

I’ve been welcomed, so I welcome.

That doesn’t mean my instincts magically change. Some days I still want to build a fence. To protect what feels scarce. But grace keeps interrupting that impulse, reminding me how freely I was received.

So today, I choose the longer table.

I pull up another chair. I share what I’ve been given.

And that’s the invitation for all of us—to open our lives a little wider and live like the table was always meant to have room for more.

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

When have you experienced someone welcoming you in a way that made you feel truly valued?
Why do you think it can be difficult to share what we have, even when we have enough?
How does remembering Christ’s welcome toward you change the way you treat others?
What might a “longer table” look like in your life this week?
Who could you intentionally welcome today?

March 13, 2026/by Bri Dunn

Faith on the Tower

Brendan McClain, Daily Devotional

1 Peter 2:9 — But you are not like that, for you are a chosen people. You are royal priests, a holy nation, God’s very own possession. As a result, you can show others the goodness of God, for he called you out of the darkness into his wonderful light.

The wind hits first—sharp and loud—as two men clip themselves onto a radio tower before sunrise.

Cody is new to the job. New to the height. New to being strapped in beside the same person for twelve hours a day. This kind of work demands trust. Even if you don’t like the person next to you, your life depends on them.

Every morning, Cody turns on worship music from his phone and prays out loud. Not to make a point—there’s just nowhere to hide it up here.

His climbing partner makes his feelings clear early on. He doesn’t believe in God. In fact, he says he hates Him.

Cody doesn’t argue.

But he also doesn’t turn the music off.

Days stretch into weeks. The scoffing slowly turns into small talk. Then one morning, the partner asks Cody to pray—but not for him. Just for his daughter.

So Cody prays right there on the tower.

And they go back to work.

Then one night, Cody’s phone rings.

His coworker’s voice sounds different. Heavy. Desperate. He admits he has relapsed in his addiction and doesn’t want to live anymore.

Cody calls his dad, and together they sit with the man for hours. No preaching. No pressure. Just the simple truths of the gospel: you are loved, you have purpose, and God has a plan for your life.

Later, the coworker admits something that surprises Cody.

It wasn’t an argument that made him call.

It was the worship music. It was Cody’s consistency. It was the steady love that felt trustworthy and real.

Scripture reminds us that God has called His people out of darkness and into His wonderful light—not just so we can experience it, but so we can show His goodness to others.

Cody didn’t know how deep the darkness was for his coworker. He simply kept living in the light long enough for someone else to notice it.

And that’s often how God works.

Somewhere near you, someone is watching what faith looks like in real life—in long days, ordinary conversations, and quiet moments when love costs time and attention.

So keep living your faith out loud.

Consistency can soften hearts that arguments never will.

And when the light stays on long enough, it has a way of drawing people home.

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

Who in your life regularly sees how you live out your faith?
Why do you think consistency can influence people more than arguments?
How does knowing you are “chosen” by God change the way you live around others?
What might it look like for you to shine God’s light in an ordinary moment this week?
Who might be watching your faith more closely than you realize?

March 12, 2026/by lameyers

Love in Disguise

Bri Dunn, Daily Devotional

Luke 3:11 — John replied, “If you have two shirts, give one to the poor. If you have food, share it with those who are hungry.”

A man dressed in black steps toward strangers on a New York City sidewalk.

It’s the kind of moment that makes people stiffen. Eyes dart away. Hands tighten around bags. In a city that runs on hurry and distance, there’s an unspoken rule: don’t engage. Keep moving. Protect your space.

The man doesn’t look harmless.

He stops people and asks for their wallets.

But this story isn’t going where you think it will.

What most people don’t know yet is that the “burglar” isn’t trying to take anything.

Instead, he approaches the people others walk past—the ones no one sits beside. The ones who’ve stopped expecting eye contact, much less kindness.

A man sits alone at a bus stop. The stranger in black approaches him, and for a moment it looks like trouble.

But then everything flips.

Instead of robbing him, the burglar gives.

He places cash into the man’s wallet. But more than that, he gives something even rarer—his time. He looks him in the eye. He sits down. He listens. He treats him like someone worth stopping for.

For a moment, that man isn’t invisible.

He’s chosen.

Watching this moment unfold online, one thing becomes clear: generosity was never meant to be complicated.

John the Baptist put it simply: if you have two shirts and someone has none, share. If you have food and someone is hungry, give.

You don’t need a disguise or a dramatic moment to do that.

You just need to care.

Eyes that notice people others overlook. Hands willing to give what they already have. A heart ready to step where others keep walking.

Kindness doesn’t have to be loud to be powerful.

Sometimes the most unexpected act of love is simply doing the right thing.

So today, notice the person others avoid—and share what you already have.

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

When was the last time you noticed someone others seemed to overlook?
Why do you think it can be difficult to engage with people in need?
What simple act of generosity could you offer someone today?
How does Luke 3:11 challenge the way you think about sharing what you have?
What might change if more people chose to notice those who feel invisible?

March 11, 2026/by Bri Dunn