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

Fear Is a Mouse with a Microphone
Daily Devotional, Tammi ArenderI never thought I would scream that loudly over something so small.
I had jumped up on the couch like the floor was lava, and it was all because a mouse skittered across my living room. Yes. That’s right. Three ounces of fur had reduced me to full-on panic mode.
Once my heart stopped pounding, I laughed at myself. How could something so small stir up so much fear?
But then I thought about how often I let the same thing happen in life. Tomorrow’s unknowns creep in, and I react like that mouse might eat me. Will there be enough money for that bill? Will that situation work out? What if I cannot handle what is coming?
The truth is, most of what I fear does not deserve the weight I give it. They may be frustrating, like rodents and roaches, but they are not stronger than God. He’s the One who holds my tomorrow.
Isaiah 35:4 says, “Say to those who have an anxious heart, ‘Be strong; fear not! For your God is coming to destroy your enemies. He is coming to save you.”
I looked at the spot where the mouse had vanished, and I finally smiled. Maybe the panic was not wasted after all, because it reminded me of something I forget too easily. I am not asked to carry tomorrow. I am only asked to trust that God already has it in His hands.
Tomorrow does not need your fear, only your faith.
Because when it comes down to it, a mouse in the house, or a worry in the mind, is never as powerful as it pretends to be.
A MOMENT TO REFLECT
God’s Gift In Saying Yes
Brenda Price, Daily DevotionalMichael did not set out to be a foster parent. He did not even see himself as a man of strong faith. His days were steady and comfortable, and he thought that was enough.
Then a friend suggested he get involved in a mentorship program through a church. Michael agreed. He figured a few Saturdays a month were easy to give.
Those Saturdays quickly became more than games and fast food. Two boys began showing up at his table – and in his thoughts – again and again.
They were loud and funny, but they were also vulnerable in ways Michael could not ignore. Their questions made him stop and think. Their trust, though fragile, felt weighty. Slowly, the boys began to matter more to him than he had ever expected.
When he learned the boys needed a permanent home, Michael did not hesitate. He opened his door, and in doing so, opened his life. Suddenly his once-quiet house was filled with life. Backpacks could be seen tossed in corners, video games could be heard in the hallways, and laughter could be felt rattling the walls.
It was in that chaos that Michael discovered something missing from his life: faith.
Through the boys’ presence, their need, and their love, Michael came to see what had been right in front of him all along—that God is truly a father to the fatherless, and He was drawing Michael back to Himself.
Michael liked to say he thought he was saving the boys, but in the end, they saved him.
And is that not just like God—to take what you thought you were giving away and to then give you back more of Himself? Thats the funny thing about saying yes. You think you are doing it for someone else, but then you realize it was exactly what you needed all along.
A MOMENT TO REFLECT
Faith and a Folding Chair
Daily Devotional, David HallCovid had a way of making the world feel smaller.
Empty streets, canceled plans, faces hidden behind masks. I told myself isolation was fine, but the truth was, I was tired of being alone.
So when I heard a handful of guys were meeting for Bible study in a bus warehouse in Bawcomville, I didn’t care how sketchy it sounded. I was in.
That warehouse was no chapel.
It smelled like metal and dust, and the wind whistled through the cracks. But what took place inside could not have been more sacred.
We sat in folding chairs and opened our Bibles, but more than that, we opened our lives.
Men spoke fears they had never voiced, struggles they had carried in silence—addiction, shame, failures that still left scars. And instead of judgment, there was prayer. There were tears. There was laughter that felt like a release valve after years of pressure.
We stayed late into the night, long after common sense said we should go home. But nobody wanted to leave. Revival was happening there.
That warehouse taught me more than I expected. Faith was never meant to be a solo sport. When one part of the body hurts, we all feel it. When one part heals, we all rejoice. That’s what pulled us back, week after week.
For me, it became a living picture of what Christ’s body was meant to be: honest, powerful, and deeply connected. Every time I left, I carried less shame and more freedom.
“Let us think of ways to motivate one another to acts of love and good works. And let us not neglect our meeting together, as some people do, but encourage one another—especially now that the day of His return is drawing near.” — Hebrews 10:24–25
That’s what those nights in the bus warehouse were really about. Ordinary guys choosing to show up, to listen, and to lift each other up when life felt heavy.
And maybe that is the point—we do not need a stained-glassed building to find God’s people. Sometimes all it takes is a few folding chairs and the courage to show up. Because when our eyes are fixed on Jesus, we find Him in the most unexpected places—even in a dusty bus warehouse in Bawcomville.
A MOMENT TO REFLECT