The Connection Corner

A Fire Worth Waiting For

Lamentations 3:25-26 — “The Lord is good to those who wait for Him, to the soul who seeks Him. It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord.”

In my family, a barbecue was never just a barbecue. You see, somebody always brought a casserole, someone else a guitar. Before the food ever hit the grill, we were already a few songs deep into our annual pickin’ and grinnin.’

That was normal for us. But one year, things got rowdy—fast.

Right as the music picked up, a scream came from the direction of the grill. Apparently, my sister—who has never been a fan of waiting on anything (least of all charcoal)—decided to hurry the process along.

In one dramatic moment, she squeezed a bottle of lighter fluid onto the coals, and flames exploded straight into the sky.

She screamed. We all jumped. And just like that, she was standing there, stunned, without a single eyebrow on her face.

Once we made sure she was okay, we laughed so hard we could barely breathe. But the truth is, it could have been a lot worse.

The moment became legendary in our family. Still, beneath the chaos, it taught us something we didn’t forget.

Rushing the process never works.

If you want those burgers ready by lunchtime, you better light that charcoal long before the hunger kicks in. And if you want something good to happen in your life, you’ve got to give it time. Pouring fuel on something just to make it go faster usually leads to more mess than progress.

That goes for dreams. That goes for healing. That goes for anything you’re waiting on.

Scripture tells us—again and again—to wait on God. Not because He’s slow, but because He’s wise. His pace isn’t punishment. It’s preparation. And when we push ahead without Him, we miss what was meant for us.

You can either trust that or learn the hard way.

So next time you’re tempted to rush God’s timing, just picture my sister standing in a cloud of smoke, holding an empty bottle of lighter fluid… with no eyebrows.

Because some things really are worth waiting for.

August 25, 2025/by Tammi Arender

The End Is Just the Beginning

Daily Devotional, David Hall, Heart of the Artist, Stories About Songs

Isaiah 25:8 — “He will swallow up death forever; and the Lord GOD will wipe away tears from all faces.”

There’s things you try to bury and run away from your entire life.

Bart Millard was only three when his parents divorced. His mom remarried and moved away, and it was decided that he and his brother would stay with their dad, Arthur.

Arthur Millard worked hard and stayed sober, but his temper ruled the house. Small things, like being cut off in traffic, could set him off, and Bart became his favorite target. He spent most of his childhood walking on eggshells, bracing for the next explosion.

But everything changed in high school when Arthur was diagnosed with cancer. The disease weakened his body—and, somehow, softened his heart. He gave his life to Jesus.

Almost overnight, he began to change. Bart, now his caregiver, had a front row seat to the transformation.

He started talking about grace and peace and love like they were more than words, and he lived it. The man who was once a monster became kind, gentle, and apologetic. Bart stopped fearing him and started thinking of him as his best friend.

They found something they never had before—until cancer took it away. And it wasn’t the past that hurt most. It was losing what they’d finally found.

At the funeral, Bart’s grandmother leaned in and whispered, “I can only imagine what your dad’s seeing now.”

That one line became a lifeline. Bart clung to it through grief, scribbling it on scraps, receipts, journals—anything. It gave him something to picture besides an empty house.

In time, Bart and a few others began the band MercyMe, and as they sat down to write one last song of their album he found inspiration in those old journals with “I can only imagine” scribbled across every page.

He wrote the song in just ten minutes, and the rest is history.

But that’s not the end of the story.

Today, when Bart closes his eyes and sings those words— “I Can Only Imagine”—he’s not just remembering what God did. He’s looking ahead to what God will do.

Because the gospel doesn’t stop at changed hearts or even gravesides. It carries on—into forever. Into a kingdom where there are no more regrets and no more goodbyes.

And the truth that steadied Bart through every wound and every loss still stands: if God can write that kind of ending for his father, He can write one for yours too. Or your sister. Or your friend. Or that person you’ve been praying for so long it hurts.

So, believe Him for the future.
Believe Him for your loved one.
Believe Him for what’s still ahead.

Because one day, we will finally see with our own eyes.

Can you only imagine it?

LYRICS | I CAN ONLY IMAGINE

I can only imagine what it will be like
When I walk by your side
I can only imagine what my eyes will see
When your face is before me
I can only imagine

Yeah

Surrounded by your glory
What will my heart feel
Will I dance for your Jesus
Or in awe of you be still
Will I stand in your presence
Or to my knees will I fall
Will I sing hallelujah
Will I be able to speak at all
I can only imagine
I can only imagine

I can only imagine when that day comes
And I find myself standing in the Son
I can only imagine when all I will do
Is forever, forever worship you
I can only imagine, yeah
I can only imagine

Surrounded by your glory
What will my heart feel
Will I dance for your Jesus
Or in awe of you be still
Will I stand in your presence
Or to my knees will I fall
Will I sing hallelujah
Will I be able to speak at all
I can only imagine
Yeah
I can only imagine

I can only imagine
Yeah
I can only imagine
I can only imagine
I can only imagine

I can only imagine
When all I will do
Is forever, forever worship you

I can only imagine

August 24, 2025/by David Hall

He Picked Me Anyway

Heart of the Artist

1 Peter 2:9 — 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.

I was chatting with a Southern belle friend of mine recently over coffee about how our ships are so totally sunk apart from the transformational power of God’s grace.

After a while, she sighed and mused dreamily, “The Gospel reminds me of the Cinderella story.” She went on to explain how she thought humanity was like Cinderella, and Jesus was like the divine prince.

I don’t remember how I responded verbatim; I think I just hemmed and hawed a bit and then changed the subject. But her observation rubbed the fur of my heart in the wrong direction. I kept mulling over . . . until eventually the source of my angst hit me.

Here’s the deal: if you’ve read the book or rented the movie, you know that Cinderella deserved the prince.

She was gorgeous, she was personable, she had a strong work ethic, and she was kind to animals (who in their right mind is nice to mice?). Not to mention that voice. Furthermore, she was used and abused by her soap-opera of a stepfamily.

So when the glass slipper fits and the fairytale concludes with happily ever after, we turn the page with happy satisfaction because good triumphed over evil.

But that’s not at all what happens in the Gospel.

In God’s true story, the ugly, horrible, abusive stepsister gets to marry King Jesus. I mean, come on. She’s the girl who locked her sister in a tower in order to get ahead! She’s horrible to animals! And she can’t sing a note!

Everyone at the ball is dumbfounded when he gallantly strides across the dance floor, and asks her to join him for the waltz. I can just hear the ladies muffling under their breath.

Um, looks like the royals have seriously lowered their standards.

But right there, in front of that shell-shocked crowd, the ugly stepsister becomes beautiful in the adoring, undeserved gaze of the handsome prince. His love transforms her—not a fairy godmother—from the inside out. He takes her record of selfishness and pays for it himself and clothes her in honor and splendor.

That’s the divine love story we’ve been written into. We were once the ugly stepsister, you and me. That’s who we were. But now we’re royalty. That’s who we are now. All made possible by the One, true, perfect and powerful King who picked the worst of us out of a crowd and made us His very own.

— Lisa Harper

August 23, 2025/by David Hall