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

You Will Make It Through
Daily Devotional, Tammi ArenderYou’d think by now I’d know better than to remodel anything. Kitchens especially.
But somehow, these projects always sneak their way into my spiritual life, turning simple frustrations into something bigger than they are.
A few months back, I was in full renovation mode. Boxes blocked the hall, dishes camped out in the laundry room, and a thin layer of dust kept appearing on every surface I owned—as if it had signed a lease. I kept telling myself I was handling it. Truthfully, I was just surviving it.
Then one morning, my flooring guy showed up bright and early and immediately dove in. Within minutes, he had spread a fresh coat of wet cement across my entire kitchen. Which would have been fine—except for one small detail. I only have one door that leads to the bathroom, and it’s through the kitchen.
Wonderful.
I mean, that day felt like the plot of a bad sitcom. You can’t make this stuff up.
I tried explaining that I needed to get through, but the man didn’t speak English. I pointed, gestured, and attempted a smile that probably looked more like panic. He responded with wide eyes and frantic hand motions that said a universal: “Absolutely not.”
We went back and forth. We were two people playing charades in different languages. He obviously did not like the idea, but here’s the thing, life doesn’t stop for wet cement, and neither does my bladder. So eventually I took a step.
Right into the cement.
It was the only choice I had, and I crossed the room in that squishy sludge, ruining my sneakers. When I reached the far side, I looked back at the line of footprints trailing behind me. The flooring man shook his head, and I shrugged. There was nothing else to say.
Hours later, I thought back over the day and found myself remembering something I had read long before this remodel ever began. It was Isaiah 43:2 which says, “When you go through deep waters, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown. When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up; the flames will not consume you.”
It struck me then that God never promised a life free of obstacles, detours, or wet cement. It didn’t say, “When you avoid the waters.” And it didn’t promise another route around them. No, He but promised to walk with usthrough challenges, hand in hand, side by side.
So, friend, if you’re wading through something right now—something that feels inconvenient or heavy or impossible to maneuver—I hope you’ll let that truth stay close to you today. You’re not stepping through it alone, and you’re not going to sink. You’re going to make it to the other side.
A MOMENT TO REFLECT
Let the Light Keep Shining
Daily Devotional, Kirstie FordThe morning after Christmas feels strange. The house is quieter, wrapping paper gone, the excitement already fading. When I was younger, I thought keeping the tree up past December 25 just meant laziness.
But now I like to keep my tree up a bit longer. I love Christmas, and I believe some stories deserve a chance to finish themselves.
Because, truth be told, the Christmas story did not end at the manger. The shepherds returned to their flocks, their excitement folded into ordinary routines. But far away, three travelers pressed on through nights colder than they imagined, following a star that refused to dim.
They carried gifts, questions, and hope in equal measure. The day they finally arrived is what people now celebrate as Epiphany.
It sounds like a big, confusing word, but the holiday is simple at its heart. Epiphany marks the moment expectation meets revelation.
They saw Him—Jesus. The Promised One who Heaven and Earth had longed for. That arrival did not happen in a single instant. It came slowly, like a caravan crossing the desert, and it reminds me that often truth shows up the same way in our own lives.
So, now I keep my tree up through the Twelve Days of Christmas because it is a reminder that revelation does not happen all at once. The lights of Epiphany are small but they are still there, persistent. The Light does not fade when the season ends.
Christ is the big Light, but I’m reminded that I am somehow folded into this amazing story. Just like those little, twinkling lights, I’m reminded and amazed I get to shine the light of Jesus, too.
That’s not just a nice thought—it’s how Scripture describes us.
The Bible says it like this: “You are all children of the light and children of the day. We do not belong to the night or to the darkness” (1 Thessalonians 5:5).
Most of my days do not feel epic. They feel ordinary. Yet even ordinary days become extraordinary when I choose to live for Him. It’s a bowl of soup offered to someone cold and hungry. A patient answer to a harsh word. Showing up when it would be easier not to. These small acts are light traveling through the world.
Before I pack up the ornaments, I stand beneath the branches and let the meaning settle. I ask myself quietly: if a star guided travelers across deserts, might the Light travel through my ordinary day too? If it can, will I let it?
So, friends, I do not know if you have packed your tree away yet, but if you can, I want to encourage you with this: pause under the glow one last time and remember the Light of the World still shines, long after the season ends.
A MOMENT TO REFLECT
Giving the Love We Needed
Bri Dunn, Daily DevotionalIt is amazing when you can return the favor.
I have someone in my life who I am so close to. She is a young grandmother, and I knew she was special the first time I watched her hold that baby. She bounced him gently, humming as if the world could wait. As a new mom myself, I was just watching, trying to figure out how someone could be that calm and that steady.
“I have to ask,” I said. “How are you so good with kids? What’s your story?”
She began to tell me in pieces, snapshots from her life. She was fourteen when she had her first child. She remembers walking home from school, terrified to tell her mom, expecting anger, judgment, and resentment. She braced herself for the worst.
But it never came. Her mom met her with warm hands and gentle words. She wrapped her arms around her and helped her carry the weight of that. She warmed bottles, folded blankets, and kept dinner on the stove. She even made sure the baby was fed and bathed when my friend got home from school or work. My friend didn’t have to do it all on her own.
Now, years later, my friend has gone on to be a nurse practitioner. She has a beautiful family. She is a grandmother who still fusses over fussy babies, rocks them until they sleep, and sits beside her patients on their hardest days.
When I asked her how she does it, she said simply, “I remember how it felt when my mom met me with love and compassion. I want to give that same thing back to other people.”
She said that, and it made me think of 1 Corinthians 15:10: “But by the grace of God I am what I am, and His grace to me was not without effect. On the contrary, I worked harder than any of them—yet not I, but the grace of God that was with me.”
That’s what I was seeing in her life. Grace that met her in her fear and didn’t leave her there. Grace that steadied her, shaped her, and then showed up again—in her work, in her motherhood, and now in the way she cares so deeply for others.
Watching her, I realized that the love and care we receive is never meant to stay with us. It is meant to move through us and be poured out for others. And I wondered (and I hope you will too), who in my life needs to feel grace today through my actions? Who can I meet with the same compassion that carried me through my own hardest days?
A MOMENT TO REFLECT