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

Guided by God’s Word
Daily Devotional, Heart of the Artist, Stories About SongsI had already made the list in my head: I was not smart enough, not qualified enough, not the kind of person who should even consider Bible school.
Study music ministry? I could not read sheet music, much less memorize long passages or pass a theology class. Still, the thought would not leave me alone. Every time I prayed, I felt that tug—a strong, steady pull I could not ignore.
So, I started asking around. That was a mistake. Everyone I talked to told me no in one way or another. And I get it. They knew my story. I had spent most of my school years just trying to hide a learning disability, praying no one would call on me to read aloud.
Eventually, I made a deal with God.
“If You take away my learning disability,” I told Him, “I will go.”
I had been reading that part in the Bible where Paul begs God to take something painful away, and I thought, “That’s it. That’s how I will know. If God fixes me—that will be my answer.”
But He did not fix it.
What He did instead was slower, harder—and far more beautiful. He kept leading me back to that same passage, and each time I read it, I started seeing it differently.
God was not waiting to heal me so I could go. He was waiting for me to trust Him enough to go anyway.
So, I went.
The struggle did not disappear. Learning remained slow. Some days, reading Scripture felt like running uphill in the dark, but I kept showing up.
Now, years later, I can say with full confidence: His Word is my compass. It is what I use to make decisions when I am scared or uncertain or hurting. It corrects my thoughts when my feelings run wild. It reminds me that I am not the one holding everything together. He is.
These days, people carry a lot of convictions. We talk with passion. We post with intensity. But unless our convictions come from Scripture, they will not hold. They will only confuse us more.
Truth lives in the Word. And through it, God will do things you cannot explain—not always by removing your weakness, but by walking with you through it.
So, just know this: you do not need to be the best or the brightest to follow where God leads. You just need to know where to look for direction.
And His Word will never lead you off course.
— Mark Hall
Lyrics
Oh what I would do to have
The kind of faith it takes
To climb out of this boat I’m in
Onto the crashing waves
To step out of my comfort zone
Into the realm of the unknown where Jesus is
And He’s holding out His hand
But the waves are calling out my name
And they laugh at me
Reminding me of all the times
I’ve tried before and failed
The waves they keep on telling me
Time and time again, “Boy, you’ll never win!”
(Never win)
“You’ll never win!”
(Never win)
But the Voice of Truth tells me a different story
The Voice of Truth says, “Do not be afraid!”
And the Voice of Truth says, “This is for My glory”
Out of all the voices calling out to me
I will choose to listen and believe the Voice of Truth
The stone was just the right size
To put the giant on the ground
And the waves they don’t seem so high
On top of them lookin’ down
And I soar with the wings of eagles
If I’d stop and listen to the sound of Jesus
Singing over me
And the Voice of Truth tells me a different story
The Voice of Truth says, “Do not be afraid!”
And the Voice of Truth says, “This is for My glory”
Out of all the voices calling out to me (calling out to me)
I will choose to listen and believe (I will stand and believe)
I will choose to listen and believe
The Voice of Truth
Writers: Mark Hall and Steven Curtis Chapman
Take Back Your Thoughts
Daily Devotional, Tammi ArenderEveryone said the newborn stage was hard—but this was something else. Clara felt distant from everything, even herself. When her daughter cried, she just felt numb and frustrated.
She hated admitting that, even to herself.
She feared that if she spoke the truth—how lost and detached she felt—someone might think she was unfit to be a mother. So she said what people wanted to hear. “We’re adjusting.” “Just tired.” “Everything’s fine.”
But nothing felt fine.
The fog made every day feel slow and heavy. Her body ached from doing the simplest things. Medication helped her function, but it did not bring her back to life. She missed joy. She missed herself. Mostly, she missed peace.
Then she found the right therapist. It was an answered prayer in disguise.
Clara showed up scared and ashamed, convinced she was failing, but the woman across from her never flinched. She just listened. No judgment. No pity.
One day, Clara said, “I cannot stop thinking these awful things.”
Her therapist replied, “What if your thoughts are not telling you the truth?”
Clara had never considered that. The woman continued, “Your feelings are real, but they are not in charge here. You are not stuck. You can choose where your thoughts land.”
It sounded impossible. But Clara gave it a try.
At first, it felt awkward. But little by little, she noticed the patterns—the quiet lies pulling her under. She began replacing them with something better. Sometimes it was her daughter’s breath against her chest. Other times it was the smell of breakfast or a sunbeam piercing through the curtains. Small things. But they were enough to turn her thoughts toward something better.
Since then, she has found hope, steadiness, and joy in this postpartum. It is all thanks to her new thoughts.
Clara still has hard days. But now she knows where to take her thoughts. She says “I can choose what I focus on. I am not my depression. I can find light, even here.”
And that has made all the difference.
So, friend, if your mind has been loud lately, maybe this is your moment too. You do not have to believe every thought that crosses your mind. Choose what is true, what is kind, and what is lovely.
Because the voice of God speaks louder than shame, and His truth gets the final word.
The Rust Bucket Good News
Daily Devotional, David HallThe cars were not pretty. Most looked like someone had bolted them together in their driveway with leftover parts and a lot of hope.
But I was eight years old, and it might as well have been Daytona.
Dad and I sat in the metal bleachers with concession stand hotdogs and sticky Coca-Colas. The sun dipped low over the track, and the first cars roared to life. He grinned, handed me my drink, and nudged me to pick my favorite. I chose the clunkiest one out there, paint chipped, muffler barely holding on. It had heart.
Then came the trash talk.
“My rust bucket’s gonna beat your rust bucket!”
I chanted, over and over, louder every time. The crowd was big, the engines louder, but I made sure my voice was the loudest. Even when the race paused and silence settled in, I kept going.
“My rust bucket’s gonna beat your rust bucket!”
People started to stare. Dad glanced around, and I thought for a second he might tell me to hush. Instead, he smiled. Then he leaned over and shouted it too—just as loud as me. We kept going until the cars fired back up and drowned us out again.
I think about that night more than you would expect. Because when I close my eyes, I can still feel what it gave me. It was this deep sense of being chosen, delighted in, completely at ease.
And if I am honest, that is what my adult heart still needs.
Somewhere along the way, most of us trade childlike joy for striving. We start to believe that we have to earn our place. That God’s love is measured by how well we hold it together, but it never was.
The heart of faith is not found in performance. It is found in trust. It is knowing that even if all you have is a busted-up rust bucket and an off-key chant, your Father still draws near. He sees you. He loves you.
You do not have to be impressive today. Just be His.
Come back to the bleachers, and let Him love you loud.