The Connection Corner

Hold Tight to the One Who Calls You His

Daily Devotional, Heart of the Artist, Stories About Songs

Isaiah 43:1b – “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.”

I used to think the perfect vacation meant white sand beaches, sunshine, and a good book. But when you’re a girl dad, vacation often means something else entirely—like shopping. And lots of it. That’s how I ended up in the heart of New York City, weaving through streets with my daughters, surrounded by endless storefronts and towering skyscrapers.

One evening, we stepped into the pulse of Times Square. It was a sensory overload—neon lights, shouting street performers, protesters, and vendors all competing for attention. The noise pressed in on every side. I felt my daughters’ small hands in mine, and I gripped them tightly.

“Stay close,” I said. The crowd could have easily swallowed them up.

That moment stuck with me—not just because of the chaos, but because of the clarity it gave me.

The world is a lot like Times Square. Loud. Confusing. Constantly trying to grab our attention and define us. It’s easy to get swept up in the noise. The lies we hear—or even the ones we tell ourselves—can feel louder than the truth. A rough school year can whisper that we’re not enough. A broken home can brand us as unlovable. A divorce can scream that we’re worthless.

And Satan? He thrives in that confusion. If he can convince us to believe a lie about who we are, we might never step into the life God created for us.

But God? He does the opposite. He speaks into the noise, and His voice cuts through with one beautiful truth: You are mine.

He doesn’t call you by your failures. He calls you by your name.

In that moment, holding my daughters’ hands, I knew they were safe as long as they stayed close, and I was reminded that I’m safe, too—as long as I stay close to my Father.

So if the world feels like too much today—if the lies feel louder than the truth—hold tight to the One who calls you His. Let Him remind you who you really are. You are loved. You are redeemed. You are His.

— Matthew West

LYRICS

Hello, my name is regret
I’m pretty sure we have met
Every single day of your life
I’m the whisper inside
Won’t let you forget

Hello, my name is defeat
I know you recognize me
Just when you think you can win
I’ll drag you right back down again
‘Til you’ve lost all belief
These are the voices,
these are the lies
And I have believed them,
for the very last time

Hello, my name is child of the one true king
I’ve been saved, I’ve been changed, and I have been set free
Amazing grace is the song I sing
Hello, my name is child of the one true king
I am no longer defined
By all the wreckage behind
The one who makes all things new
Has proven it’s true
Just take a look at my life

Hello, my name is child of the one true king
I’ve been saved, I’ve been changed, and I have been set free
Amazing grace is the song I sing
Hello, my name is child of the one true king

What a love the Father has lavished upon us
That we should be called his children
I am a child of the one true King
What a love the Father has lavished upon us
That we should be called his children

Hello, my name is child of the one true king
I’ve been saved, I’ve been changed, and I have been set free
Amazing grace is the song I sing
Hello, my name is child of the one true king
I am a child of the one true king

Music video by Matthew West performing Hello, My Name Is (Lyrics).

July 10, 2025/by David Hall

Twelve Dollars of Love

Bri Dunn, Daily Devotional

Hebrews 13:16 — “And do not forget to do good and to share with others, for with such sacrifices God is pleased.”

One mom, Stacey, always tried to keep birthdays simple. No fuss, just a meal and some laughs. So, when Nathan turned twelve, she let him pick his favorite spot—Waffle House.

After they slid into their booth, Stacey leaned across the table and flagged down the lone waiter on duty, Philip.

“Hey, just so you know,” she said with a grin, “it’s my son’s twelfth birthday.”

She figured it might get him a free dessert or something, but she wasn’t prepared for what happened next.

Philip grinned right back and disappeared behind the counter. A minute later, he came back with a stack of twelve crisp dollar bills, one for each year Nathan had been alive.

He placed them in front of Nathan with a genuine, “Happy birthday, Buddy.”

Nathan’s eyes widened. He had never seen generosity like that up close. Stacey found herself blinking back tears. She knew the weight of that gift. She could picture Philip working long shifts, relying on every tip to make ends meet. Yet here he was, giving generously.

It was a lesson she’d been trying to teach her son for years, and here it was demonstrated in a roadside diner.

As they left, Stacey squeezed Nathan’s hand. She hoped he’d carry that moment with him, that he’d remember it long after the waffles were gone. Because, she thought, sometimes the best way to live is to give—even when it costs you something.

Friend, maybe you’ve been waiting for the right moment to put someone else first. Don’t wait. Little sacrifices, given freely, can turn a simple thing into a memory that lasts a lifetime. Let’s live that kind of story.

July 9, 2025/by Bri Dunn

Get Back in the Saddle

Daily Devotional, Tammi Arender

2 Timothy 1:7 — For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline.

Daddy had me in the saddle of a horse before I even had my first loose tooth. I remember my little legs jutting out like sticks, trying to hold on to Dugar, my Palomino, whose coat shimmered like honey in the sun.

Daddy loved horses, and I loved that he wanted to share them with me. Every Saturday, he’d saddle up Dugar and hand me the reins, his big hand steady on my back. I’d watch his face as he tightened the cinch, his eyes full of pride.

We rode together for years, me and Dugar. I learned to sense his moods—when he was feeling feisty, when he was calm, when he’d rather graze than gallop. I’d talk to him like he was my best friend, which he probably was.

Then came the day everything changed.

It started like any other morning, but that day, Dugar had a wild streak in him. He bucked hard, harder than he ever had before, spinning and kicking like he wanted to leave me behind. My heart pounded in my chest as I clung to the saddle, every nerve screaming for me to let go.

But I didn’t. I held on until the saddle slipped, and then I hit the ground. Hard.

My head slammed into the ground, landing just inches from my father’s disc harrow. If you’ve never seen one, imagine a row of sharp, spinning blades pulled behind a tractor. Think of a guillotine on wheels ready to chew up the dirt—and me.

Daddy was there in an instant. I don’t remember much, but I remember the look in his eyes—wet, relieved, scared. But I was alive. No broken bones, not even a concussion. He said it was a miracle. We found out later that the cinch had not been latched properly. It was a small mistake, but it nearly cost me everything.

The next morning, Daddy leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes soft. “You ready to ride again?” he asked.

Every part of me wanted to say no. My stomach twisted at the thought of that wild-eyed horse and the way the ground had rushed up to meet me. But Daddy held my gaze, his voice steady. “If you don’t get back on that horse,” he said, “you’ll carry that fear with you the rest of your life.”

So, I took a deep breath and swung my leg over Dugar’s back. My heart thudded with every step he took, each hoofbeat a reminder of the risk, but also of all the rides we’d shared—sunny afternoons, slow walks under the oaks, the way his breath felt warm on my cheek. I chose to trust him again. And in that moment, I chose to trust myself too.

Life has a way of bucking us off when we least expect it. It’s messy and wild and sometimes leaves us face down in the dirt. But staying there isn’t an option. It’s not how we’re made. It doesn’t matter how many times you get bucked off—what matters is how many times you get back on.

So, dust yourself off. Get back on that horse, friend, and let Jesus take the reins.

July 8, 2025/by Tammi Arender