The Connection Corner

Rock Bottom Redemption

Romans 1:16 — “For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek.”

The doctors said I would not wake up. My brother stood by my hospital bedside preparing for the worst, and still—somehow—I opened my eyes.

No one expected me to make it. I had overdosed in New Jersey, far from my family in Florida. My mom had died not long before, and my godmother was the one trying to hold my life together. She had promised my mom she would tell me about Jesus.

I thought it was sweet—maybe a little pushy—but I never took it seriously.

The truth is, I never knew Him. I had heard the stories. I saw a few videos, but I had no relationship with Him. Instead, I was pursuing what I wanted—modeling, acting, and partying in the city.

That world swallows you fast, and I let it.

Until it almost killed me.

In that coma, something happened that I still cannot fully explain. I saw Him. I saw Jesus. He came close and wrapped His arm around me like a friend and said, “Are you done?”

I knew what He meant because I was. I was done with the running, the pretending, and the pain.

And when I said yes, everything changed.

Jesus brought me back—body and soul. I woke up, confused and stunned, with hospital socks on my feet and my brother’s jaw on the floor. Since then, every day has been part of the comeback. I still mess up, still grow, but now I walk with the One who rescued me.

No, my life is not perfect, but it is His. He took the talents I once used for shallow things and turned them into tools for His story. I speak up because I cannot stay silent. I live for Him, not out of duty, but joy.

We get to live for Him. That is the honor of it all, and I will never be ashamed of that.

August 20, 2025/by Brenda Price

Giving From What You’ve Received

Daily Devotional, Sarah Hall

Hebrews 13:16 – “Do not neglect to do good and to share what you have, for such sacrifices are pleasing to God.”

Rhonda poured coffee into her favorite mug. The radio hummed softly in the background, like a friend who knew too much but didn’t judge.

For twenty years, Christian radio had been there. Even in the mornings when the dishes were piled high, and when her children squabbled over cereal bowls. Even during her divorce, when everything she’d relied on felt like it was made of paper and could tear at any moment.

She had to pause her monthly giving back then. It hurt more than she expected. Not because the money was gone, but because that act of giving had been a rhythm that told her she was still a person who could extend kindness into the world.

But she never turned the station off. The songs still poured over her, spilling over laundry piles and homework papers. They reminded her of promises she had almost forgotten existed—things like God’s nearness, God’s faithfulness, and God’s care.

Years later, life had shifted in ways that were subtle and miraculous all at once. Bills balanced themselves more easily. Mornings felt lighter. Her heart no longer clenched at the sound of the phone ringing.

She could give again, and more than she ever had before. And as she clicked “submit” on her monthly donation, she realized it wasn’t about the money at all. It was about gratitude. It was about honoring the lifeline that had held her steady when she felt untethered.

The songs hadn’t just played. They had whispered that she could endure. That peace was possible. That even when life felt like it might unravel, God used her radio to help carry her all along.

And maybe that’s the thing: when something has carried you through the hard parts, it’s worth passing it on. Whether it’s a song, a word of encouragement, or a small act of generosity, there’s power in saying, “I remember how this felt, and I want someone else to know they can make it too.”

August 19, 2025/by Sarah Hall

Trusting Through the Thorns

Daily Devotional, Tammi Arender

Romans 8:18 — “For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us.”

Honeysuckle and honey bees.

Growing up in the country, I could spend hours walking the fence line of our horse pasture. That stretch of land was thick with flowers and wild blackberries. I would breathe in the honeysuckle—it was the kind of aroma you want to bottle up and keep forever.

I would pick blackberries until my fingers were stained purple. The metal bowl clinked with every drop. Then I would take them inside to Mama. She would pour evaporated milk over them and sprinkle sugar on top. That bowl was better than Dairy Queen—better than anything, really.

But those berries did not come easy. The vines were full of stickers and prickers. To pick even a small bowl meant taking your time, moving slow, steady, and careful. If you got in a hurry or grabbed too quick, those thorns would draw blood.

It took precision. Patience. A little pain, too. But again, it was worth the scratches.

The older I get, the more I see how life works the same way. It will poke and prod and prick you along the way—especially when you dare to dream big, when you want to follow what God has placed on your heart. He never promised a smooth path. He never said the thorns would not come. But He did say He would be with you.

So if the road feels rough today, if your hands feel scratched from doing the right thing—keep going. The reward is real. The sweetness is still ahead.

August 18, 2025/by Tammi Arender