The Connection Corner
A daily source of encouragement and inspiration to connect your heart to hope and faith.
Daily Devotional
Together Makes Impossible PossibleMarch 10, 2026 - 7:00 am- Love That Paid it AllMarch 9, 2026 - 7:00 am
- When Enough is EnoughMarch 8, 2026 - 7:00 am
- When Hope Goes ViralMarch 7, 2026 - 7:00 am
- When Truth Turns the Car AroundMarch 6, 2026 - 7:00 am
- Coffee‑Sized CompassionMarch 5, 2026 - 7:00 am
- Kindness That CarriesMarch 4, 2026 - 7:00 am
- Faith in the Field, Encourage BoldlyMarch 3, 2026 - 7:00 am
- One Song of HopeMarch 2, 2026 - 7:00 am
- Overwhelmed by GraceMarch 1, 2026 - 7:00 am
Heart of the Artist
- When Enough is EnoughMarch 8, 2026 - 7:00 am
- Words Hurt, Truth HealsFebruary 28, 2026 - 7:00 am
- When Differences Become GiftsFebruary 14, 2026 - 7:00 am
- Holding On During Hard DaysJanuary 31, 2026 - 7:00 am
- Redeemer in the RuinsJanuary 24, 2026 - 7:00 am
Stories About Songs
- Words Hurt, Truth HealsFebruary 28, 2026 - 7:00 am
- The Shepherd and the Black SheepFebruary 15, 2026 - 7:00 am
- When Differences Become GiftsFebruary 14, 2026 - 7:00 am
- Holding On During Hard DaysJanuary 31, 2026 - 7:00 am
- Redeemer in the RuinsJanuary 24, 2026 - 7:00 am
Not What I Planned
Daily Devotional, Lauren Kitchens-StewardWas there ever a time when you were so sure about something, you never even thought to ask God what He thought?
That was me in college. I was twenty-one, a student at Oral Roberts University, and had been dating someone for three and a half years. We were sitting in chapel together one morning, and I remember looking around and thinking, “Everyone’s getting married, so of course we will too.”
It felt like the obvious next step—like the world had handed me a checklist, and I was just moving down it. But underneath the excitement, something did not sit right. I had not prayed about it. I had not invited the Lord into that decision.
But God did have other plans—and He was kind enough to interrupt mine.
His message was quiet but clear: “You are going to have to trust Me.”
With that, I knew. I could not marry that young man, and this was not just about walking away from a relationship. It was about surrendering the future I thought I needed.
That was the hardest part, and truth be told, I did not get married until I was forty-four.
Now, when I talk with people who are single, I do not offer easy answers or pat advice. I simply say this: unless God shows you beyond a shadow of a doubt, you do not have to force anything.
And this goes beyond relationships. In every part of life—decisions about work, friendships, calling—ask Him what He has for you. When you bring your whole life before Him, hands open, heart ready, you can move forward with a confidence that is not rooted in outcomes but in trust.
When you believe Him enough to wait, something shifts. You stop chasing what was never yours. Your peace grows deeper, and your steps grow steadier.
Your path may not look like anyone else’s. It may take longer, but Dear One, if it is built on trust, it will be worth it—every time.
The Friend Who Makes A Way
Daily Devotional, Tammi ArenderI try to imagine it, that story found in the Bible.
The air is thick with dust and curiosity. This is not some ordinary Tuesday in Galilee. No, ma’am. The Teacher is in town.
The streets are packed tighter than your aunt’s freezer before the holidays. Every soul within walking distance is pushing into that little house, leaning in to hear Jesus speak.
And then there is me — or at least, the me I am imagining. Flat on a mat. My legs have not worked since before I can remember, and I’ve been stuck there so long. Life has been happening around me, but it’s not like I can enjoy any of it.
So, I just resigned myself to being part of the scenery.
Until my friends showed up. They did not give me a chance to refuse; they just scooped me up and said we were going to see Jesus.
They carried me down the street, weaving through the crowd. When we could not get in, I assumed we would go home, but they just looked at each other, grinned, and climbed the roof.
Then they started pulling apart clay tiles and thatching. A minute later, I am staring down where the roof used to be into eyes and stunned crowd below.
Dust in my hair, sun in my eyes, I was lowered right in front of Him. Jesus looked at me like He had known me all my life. And the first thing He did was heal the part of me no one could see. He said my sins were forgiven. My soul felt lighter than my legs ever could.
Then He says gives me this in wonderful instruction:
“Get up.”
And I did. Every muscle, tendon, and ligament worked in perfect harmony. When I looked up, I saw my friends grinning down from that roof like they had just pulled off the heist of the century.
So, as I imagine myself there, this is what I have been turning over in my mind — some of the greatest miracles happen because someone else’s faith carried us to Jesus.
But what’s more is this. Most people wait their whole lives for a friend like that.
Some people decide to be one.
When Less is More
Daily Devotional, David HallThe first thing you should know about Joshua is that he likes to hug. A lot.
“Bring it in, Bud!” he says every time he meets someone new. Again, he’s an enthusiastic, grinning, full-send hugger.
He is also what you might call a minimalists— someone who had it all, decided it wasn’t enough, and now lives with a lot less than most people think is practical.
He didn’t start out this way. He grew up in Ohio as a poor kid with big dreams. Like a lot of people raised without much, he chased that version of success that comes with keycards and cufflinks. By his late twenties, he was hauling in six figures and racking up frequent flyer miles.
But then life did what life does.
Joshua’s mother passed away. His marriage ended in the same month. He was just 28. He owned a large three-bedroom house and a job title longer than most church prayer lists, and he was miserable.
It was then that Joshua realized just how unhappy he was.
So, in the wake of all that, he started to let go. Of his stuff, that is. He moved into a smaller house, got rid of the TV, the DVDs, the furniture, and the backup spatula— basically everything that once gave the illusion of security. One by one, he cleared out his life.
But the miracle Joshua found, obviously, wasn’t the empty shelves.
It was the space that showed up in his soul.
See, the peace he found came when he stopped pretending that more would finally make him feel like enough. He once found identity in what he had, but now he was finding peace through surrendering all of that.
He discovered that when enough is finally enough, you realize you’ve had more than enough all along. You start hearing the birds outside again. You show up for dinner with both feet in the room. And you start hugging people. Alot.
That’s the thing no one tells you: when your arms aren’t carrying everything, they’re finally free to reach out.
So…
“Bring it in, Bud.”