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

When Being Right Hurts
Daily Devotional, Tammi ArenderA year is a long time not to speak to someone.
At first, you donât notice how long itâs been. The days pile up quietly, like snow on a roof, until one morning the weight could cave you in. That was me staring at the silent phone in my living room and thinking about the fight that started it all.
I had been determined to be right. Not ârightâ in the polite, letâs-agree-to-disagree kind of way. I mean one-hundred-percent, no-question-about-it, paint-it-on-a-billboard kind of right.
I told him so.
I told him exactly what I thought about the way he treated my sister and me compared to our half-brother. The words came hot and fast. Dad’s anger rose to meet mine, and somewhere in that heat, I crossed the line from honest to hurtful.
Instead of walking it back, I planted my feet. I dug my heels in like a stubborn mule. And he did the same.
So began the longest silence of my life. Christmas came. No call. My birthday. His birthday. Fatherâs Day. No call. Somewhere along the way, âbeing rightâ began to feel empty. It was like carrying a trophy no one wanted.
Then one day the phone rang.
It was my dadâs best friend.
âTammi,â he said, âyouâve got to make things right with your dad. This tension between you two, itâs killing him.â
I didnât hesitate. âNo. Heâs wrong. Flat wrong.â
There was a pause. Then he said the words that split my pride in two:
âTammi, it doesnât matter whoâs right or wrong when you walk up to his coffin.â
Those words took the air right out of me. In that moment, âbeing rightâ didnât seem nearly as important as forgiveness. I wanted to be close to my dad again.
So that same day, I drove to his house. I told him I was sorryâfor my pride, my sharp words, and my stubbornness. I asked for his forgiveness, and he gave it.
That day, I learned you can win an argument and still lose what matters most. God knew what He was talking about when He taught us to pray, âForgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.â
That’s why we need both kinds of grace. We need the kind that flows to us and the kind that flows from us.
Faith Around the Flagpole
Daily Devotional, David HallCoach Jeremy stood a step back from the circle of students at the flagpole, hands in his jacket pockets, fighting the coachâs reflex to lead.
He reminded himself what he had told faculty and parents: this was student-led, not a show for adults. His job this morning was to watch, to pray quietly, and to make sure the kids owned what they were doing.
Nash Wisner was one of the middle schoolers there. His shoulders were squared, eyes sweeping the crowd. Coach Jeremy knew the kidâs family and liked them. Nash had a steadiness to him and seemed to care about things that mattered.
By the time the clock edged toward 7:30, the crowd had swelled to two-hundred. The sound of them filled the small courtyard.
Between the songs, students like Nash Wisner stepped forward. They were awkward at first. Their words werenât polished, but they were leading their peers. They prayed for friends who were struggling, for teachers carrying heavy loads, and for families needing strength.
Jeremy thought of how rare it was to see middle schoolers stand in front of peers and live their faith out-loud like this.
As their prayers came to a close and the school bell rang across the campus, the coachâs throat tightened as he looked in the eyes of these students. It was like each of them were given a jersey with their name on it.
Nash and other students knew they were agents of change, and today they were going to live like it.
Coach Jeremy stayed where he was for a moment under the flag flicking overhead. He knew on a day like today how easy it would be to sleep in or blend into the crowd without anyone noticing. But these students, along with others across the country, chose faith over comfort.
And as he followed them inside, he decided he would too.
The Bible That Prayed
Brenda Price, Daily DevotionalShe almost didnât find it.
There was no spotlight on it. No labeled box. As she searched through the closet, she pulled a stack of old blankets down, one by one, until something hard and flat slid forward and landed in her lap.
It was her grandmotherâs Bible.
The leather was the color of coffee left in the pot too long. It was cracked at the edges, soft in the middle. The spine sagged under strips of tape that had yellowed after decades.
She carried it to the kitchen table and sat there for a moment, just running her fingers over the cover. Then she opened it.
It was beautiful in the way only old things can be. The pages were soft as tissue. Corners were bent from years of folding.
And then the names.
There were dozens. Scrawled in the margins. Squeezed into the white space between verses. A cousin she hadnât thought of in years. A neighbor who passed away before she was born. A church friend from decades ago.
Every name was written by a verse. A promise. It was like her grandmother had gone through the whole Bible and decided that no one she loved was going to leave this earth without being prayed for according to Godâs Word.
She felt tears come before she even realized it. She took it home for safekeeping, and that night, she opened her own Bible.
It had clean pages and plenty of white space.
So, she started writing names and started praying.
And hereâs the part that gets meâsome Bibles are read through, while others are prayed through. If you believe prayer is powerful, imagine just how much more powerful it is to pray for people according to Godâs word.
Because Godâs word will not come back empty-handed.