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
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Mailing Address:
PO Box 3265
Monroe, LA 71210

When Differences Become Gifts
Daily Devotional, Heart of the Artist, Stories About SongsI watch the front door slam behind her and know this is going to matter more than either of us realizes.
Amanda and I are barely a year into marriage, still learning how to disagree without burning the house down. She’s Jamaican—expressive and fiery. I’m American—quiet, stubborn.
“I hate living in this country. I’m going home,” she says.
The words hang in the air.
At first, I give her space. That’s my instinct. But something won’t let me stay put. I find her sitting on a curb a few streets away—homesick now, anger spent. She gets in the car, and we sit in silence.
“You’ve got to stop saying you hate America and that you want to go home,” I finally say. “Because one day I’m going to say, ‘Okay. Go then.’”
It isn’t harsh. It’s honest.
Marriage can’t survive if one person is always halfway out the door.
Later, she tells me that moment changed everything. Choosing me meant choosing this life. And that decision saved our marriage more times than I can count—because our differences didn’t fade. They multiplied.
Take birthdays. In Jamaican culture, if the sun comes up and there’s no big gift or celebration, congratulations—you’ve ruined everything. I learned that the hard way. We still laugh about it.
But those differences also became gifts. Her family’s joy. Their faith. Their wholehearted love for God. I’d leave their house spiritually full, reminded of what matters most. And she learned to love parts of my world, too.
Our family grew—with biological children and then international adoption that felt less like a plan and more like an interruption from Heaven we couldn’t ignore.
Our multicultural family didn’t become united because life got easier. It became united because love stayed.
Sacrificial love has always been the glue.
Scripture says,
Unity isn’t sameness. It isn’t erasing differences. It’s not pretending hard things aren’t hard.
Unity is staying.
It’s choosing presence over escape. Service over self. Commitment over convenience. It’s love that works through the hard instead of walking away from it.
If your life is marked by differences—culture, personality, background, opinion—don’t assume those differences are problems to solve. They may be the very place God is teaching you how to love.
Stay committed. Stay united. Let God shape something beautiful right where you are.
— TobyMac
A MOMENT TO REFLECT
Catching Butterflies at the Grocery Store
Bri Dunn, Daily DevotionalI’m standing in the grocery store at 6:42 p.m., staring at a row of rotisserie chickens slowly turning under heat lamps.
My phone buzzes. It’s my husband, Chris.
“Will you grab one on your way home?”
I laugh at how much we think alike.
We’ve been together fourteen years. Back then, we stayed up until two or three in the morning talking on the phone. We whispered so no one else in the house would wake. We talked about everything. And nothing. And everything again. There were butterflies. So many butterflies.
Now, sometimes the only thing we text each other is, “Good morning,” and, “Did you remember the chicken?”
And that may not sound romantic—but it’s something better.
Because somewhere between those late-night conversations and this grocery store aisle, our love grew up. Life filled in with jobs, kids’ schedules, responsibilities. And yet, the slow burn of love proved stronger than the sparks we once chased.
We learned to pivot. To communicate differently. To love in ways that weren’t flashy—but were faithful.
It’s tempting, when relationships shift, to assume something’s wrong. But sometimes change doesn’t mean love is fading. Sometimes it means love is maturing.
Scripture actually prays for this kind of growth:
Did you catch that? Love isn’t meant to stay small. It’s meant to increase. To overflow. To strengthen hearts over time.
Some days you won’t have the energy for fireworks or grand gestures. Love isn’t always butterflies. Sometimes it’s steady. Durable. Quietly committed. Sometimes it looks like grabbing a rotisserie chicken on the way home.
And this isn’t just about marriage. It never was.
This kind of growing love spills into friendships that don’t talk every day but still show up when it matters. It spills into faith that doesn’t always feel electric but stays rooted. It spills into families learning to forgive again and again.
In whatever relationships God has placed in your life, there’s an invitation today: keep loving right where you are. Trust that God is growing something faithful, durable, and good in you.
Because when He grows the love, it doesn’t just survive—it overflows.
A MOMENT TO REFLECT
The Call I Was Afraid to Make
Daily Devotional, Tammi ArenderI hadn’t said his name out loud in months.
Life kept rolling—work, errands, small talk—but every time his name came up, I skipped it like a song that hurt too much to hear.
I hated the state of where we were. So I did what I knew to do.
I prayed.
Every day, I laid it at Jesus’ feet, asking God to fix what felt beyond repair. And prayer was the right thing to do. But deep down, I knew something else too—action mattered. Some responsibility was still in my court. Praying felt faithful… but acting felt terrifying.
I couldn’t pick up the phone.
In fact, I blocked him.
I told myself it was for peace. For space. But if I’m honest, it was fear dressed up as wisdom. Blocking him kept me safe—from hearing something I didn’t want to hear, from having to be wrong, from having to be humble.
Months passed like that.
Then a mutual friend called. She mentioned his name, and I couldn’t hold back the tears. She didn’t scold me. She just looked at me and said gently, “Tammy… this can’t keep going. Y’all need to talk.”
She was right.
So I unblocked the number.
And I called him.
He didn’t answer. No script. No backup plan.
Five minutes later, my phone rang.
It was him.
There wasn’t a debate. We didn’t replay every detail. But we both said the hardest, holiest words:
“I’m sorry.”
Not because everything was instantly resolved. Not because we suddenly agreed. But because the relationship mattered more than being right. And humility spoke louder than a thousand arguments.
It reminded me of Romans 12:16: “Live in harmony with each other… Don’t be too proud… and don’t think you know it all.”
Harmony doesn’t mean sameness. It doesn’t mean pretending nothing happened. It means choosing humility over pride. It means laying down the need to win so love has room to breathe.
Maybe there’s a name you’ve avoided. A conversation you’ve postponed.
The smallest surrender can open the widest door.
You don’t have to fix everything today. But loosening your grip on being right? That’s often where Jesus does His best work.
A MOMENT TO REFLECT