Hearing God Through Others
A friend of mine shared in a meeting tonight that she hears God through others — and that really struck me. It reminded me that God doesn’t always speak in thunder, visions, or burning bushes. More often, He speaks through the hearts, words, and actions of people around us. When our spiritual ears are open, we begin to notice His voice in everyday conversations and encounters that might otherwise go unnoticed.
There are moments when I’m weighed down, uncertain, or doubting my worth — and someone speaks just the words I need to hear. It could be a friend, a coworker, or even a stranger. Their words land softly but powerfully, as if carried by divine timing.
“Gracious words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones.” Proverbs 16:24
Those moments remind me that encouragement is often heaven’s way of saying, “I see you.”
Then there are the times God speaks correction — not to shame, but to shape me. A person I trust might tell me a hard truth, something I didn’t want to hear but needed to. That’s love too — the kind that keeps me grounded.
“As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another.” — Proverbs 27:17
Through these interactions, I’m reminded that God doesn’t just comfort; He also refines.
And then there are the moments in recovery meetings — where I’ve witnessed people who utterly destroyed their lives beyond recognition rise from the pitch black of despair and find purpose again. They speak of pain, surrender, grace, and renewal. And somehow, in their voice, I hear God’s mercy itself. These men and women now dedicate their lives to serving others, shining a light that once seemed forever extinguished.
“For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them.” — Matthew 18:20
In those rooms, surrounded by brokenness turned into strength, I hear God most clearly — speaking through the stories of those who found Him in the darkness.
Sometimes, His voice isn’t in words at all. It’s in an act of kindness — a meal left at my door, a hug when I didn’t even know I needed one, a simple text that says, “Thinking of you.” God often speaks through the compassion of others before we ever hear Him in our own hearts.
And there are the unexpected moments — a child’s innocent remark, a line from a movie, a stranger’s casual comment — that suddenly feels like divine wisdom. God’s voice isn’t limited by title or setting; He’ll use anyone open enough to carry His message.
When I look back, I realize that God’s been speaking all along. I just needed to quiet my own noise to hear Him. Every conversation, every moment of grace or truth shared — it’s all part of a divine conversation that never ends.
So today, I pray to be still enough to listen, and humble enough to recognize His voice in others.
Prayer:
Heavenly Father, thank You for speaking through the people You place in my path. Help me to listen with an open heart and discern Your voice in the love, truth, and kindness of others. Let my own words and actions also become instruments of Your grace, so that others may hear You through me. Amen.
🌿 Make Room for Gratitude
“I make myself rich by making my wants few.”
— Henry David Thoreau, Walden (1854)
Gratitude begins in simplicity. The less I need, the more I have. Each morning and evening, I take a quiet moment to give thanks — not for what I wish I had, but for what already is. I thank God for my existence, for the gift of consciousness and awareness, for the miracle that I am His creation.
I thank Him for my family — for the divine love that flows through them and reflects His own. I thank Him for the smallest comforts: the breath I take, the chair beneath me, the warmth of my dog pressed against my side. In those ordinary moments, I find extraordinary peace.
The world shouts a different message — that we are incomplete until we gain more: more wealth, more recognition, more approval. But the practice of gratitude quiets that noise. When we pause to count our blessings, we begin to see that fulfillment isn’t something to chase — it’s something to remember.
Even science affirms what the soul already knows. Researchers have found that regular gratitude practice lowers stress hormones, improves mood, and enhances sleep. Giving thanks literally changes the brain, training it to recognize goodness and abundance instead of fear and lack. In both body and spirit, gratitude transforms how we see the world — and ourselves.
For anyone struggling with anxiety or depression, this truth can be liberating: the first step toward peace isn’t changing your life — it’s seeing your life differently. When we begin to appreciate who we are, what we have, and the sacred design within each moment, we start to feel God’s quiet whisper:
You are enough. You are loved. You are whole.
Let gratitude make room for that truth — the space where contentment takes root and the heart learns to rest in God’s presence.
Scripture:
“Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”
— 1 Thessalonians 5:18
Closing Prayer:
Heavenly Father, teach me to see the blessings that surround me — not in what I gain, but in what already is. Quiet the restless parts of my mind that crave more and remind me that Your presence is enough. May gratitude reshape my thoughts, renew my spirit, and fill me with peace. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Ignorance is Bliss
We live in a world where wealth is measured in dollars, possessions, and influence. Yet, there are people who live untouched by these standards, not ignorant in the sense of being foolish, but innocent of the world’s distorted scales. To them, wealth is not counted in coins but in connection—to God, to family, to creation itself.
Proverbs 15:16 – “Better a little with the fear of the Lord than great wealth with turmoil.”
Matthew 6:19–21 – “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth… But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven… For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”
The Achuar and Shipibo are Indigenous peoples of the Amazon rainforest in Ecuador and Peru. For generations, they have lived in close relationship with the land, relying on hunting, fishing, and small-scale farming. To them, rivers, trees, and animals are not mere resources but sacred relatives. Their wealth is measured in strong kinship, generosity, and spiritual harmony with creation.
The Shipibo in particular are known for their intricate art and healing traditions, viewing health and well-being as a balance with the spirit world. Neither tribe defines wealth by money; instead, wealth is relational—found in family bonds, shared life, and being inseparable from God’s creation.
Ignorance of worldly wealth can be a form of divine freedom. When you do not know to compare, you do not feel poor. When your treasure is family, faith, and the God-breathed beauty of creation, you walk in abundance.
The Achuar and Shipibo people remind us that true prosperity is not in the accumulation of things but in the inseparable bond we share with God’s creation. They live by giving, receiving, and being part of the whole. Their wealth is seen in laughter shared around a fire, in food gathered together, and in harmony with the world God has made.
We, on the other hand, often live burdened by comparison, chasing more and never feeling enough. But what if we, too, became “ignorant” of the world’s measure of wealth? What if we measured riches by our nearness to God and our bonds with others? That kind of ignorance would not be weakness—it would be bliss.
Today, ask yourself:
Am I measuring my wealth by God’s standard or the world’s?
Where is my treasure—in possessions, or in God’s presence and my relationships?
What can I let go of today to step closer to the kind of bliss that cannot be bought?
Closing Prayer
Father, teach me to unlearn the world’s measures of wealth. Make me ignorant of the lies of comparison and envy, and wise in Your truth. Let me find my treasure in You, my wealth in the love of family and community, and my joy in being inseparable from Your creation. May I be rich in what matters to You. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Knowing vs. Believing
In my recovery circle, I often hear the statement: “I believe in God.” Yet, for me, it strikes differently. I don’t just believe—I know God exists. My struggle lies not in knowing, but in believing that everything I encounter—the joy and the suffering—is part of His glory and my journey.
When good things happen, we say, “God is good.” But when tragedy strikes, where is He then? This duality of faith often creeps into my mind, and I wrestle with whether both good and bad originate from God.
Believing requires faith in the unseen, especially when life is not positive. If life were perfect, faith might become entitlement—no need to lean on God, no need to trust. It is precisely in imperfection, hardship, and questions that faith is tested. Faith says all things are working for good—even when we cannot see how. (Romans 8:28)
Jesus came not for the perfect, but for the broken. He came to give hope to the questioning, to rescue those who ask, “What’s the point of this existence?” The promise of eternity reminds us that this life is but one chapter. Our minds cannot grasp the fullness of forever, yet God simply says: “Today you are here, but this is only a part of what I have prepared for you.”
The real victory is not in avoiding pain, but in overcoming fear, anxiety, and even the certainty of death. Jesus taught: “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.” (Luke 9:23). Dying to ourselves—our pride, our flesh, our fears—opens the door to His glory.
Science cannot explain love, yet we all know it exists. Love transcends evidence—it is felt, lived, and known. So it is with God. We cannot put Him in a test tube, but we can experience His presence.
So let us move from simply knowing there is a God, to believing Him with full faith—that the Creator, our first love and Redeemer, holds all things in His hands.
Prayer:
Lord, help me move beyond the surface of knowing You exist, into the deeper waters of trusting and believing in You fully. Teach me to see Your hand in both joy and trial, and to rest in the faith that all things are working for my good. Strengthen me to die to myself daily so that I may live in Your glory. Amen.
Read the Signs
Driving down the 405 freeway in Torrance, California, I noticed a sign: “Louis Zamperini Freeway.” I knew his story from the movie Unbroken—the track star, the Olympian, the prisoner of war. But that sign stirred something deeper in me. It pushed me to look past the headlines and achievements, to the man himself. What I found was not just a story of endurance, but of being broken and renewed in Christ.
Louis Zamperini survived what would have destroyed most men: a plane crash, 47 days adrift at sea, and years of brutality in a Japanese prison camp. Yet, even after making it home, his real prison remained—his rage, his nightmares, his dependence on alcohol. His body survived the war, but his soul was drowning.
Then came the turning point. At a Billy Graham crusade, Louis surrendered his life to Christ. In that moment, his nightmares ceased. His rage dissolved. He even forgave the very men who had beaten him. Reflecting on that night, he said:
“When I turned to God, I realized I was not only saved but I was free.”
I can relate. For years, I fought my own battles with alcoholism and depression. I gripped the rope of life as tightly as I could, only to find my hands raw and scorched from trying to control it all. But when I finally let go—when I stopped holding on to my own strength and gave it to God—the weight of despair lifted. One act of faith changed everything.
Scripture says, “So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed” (John 8:36). Louis’s story, and my own, prove that freedom isn’t found in our fight—it’s found in our surrender. If you don’t choose, if you don’t take that step of faith, life will choose for you, and it will always lead you back into bondage. But when you choose Christ, you are not just saved—you are free.
Reflection
What “ropes” are you still holding on to that are burning your hands?
What would it look like to let go and trust God fully with them?
Prayer
Lord,
Thank You for the signs You place in my life to remind me of Your presence and Your power. Thank You for the story of Louis Zamperini and for the rescue You’ve worked in my own life. Help me to let go of the things that scorch and bind me, and give me the courage to trust You completely. Set me free, as only You can. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
The Company We Keep
We’ve all heard the saying: “Birds of a feather flock together.” The truth of that statement reaches deep into our spiritual walk. The company we keep often reflects the direction of our hearts and the path of our journey.
On my morning commute, I had the blessing of talking with a friend who is on fire for Jesus. Traffic jams and stress faded away as our conversation lifted us toward God’s glory and the gift of life itself. That kind of fellowship feeds the soul. “Walk with the wise and become wise, for a companion of fools suffers harm” (Proverbs 13:20).
But the world does not often align with a spiritual journey. Its pull is toward conformity, idolization of wealth, and the echo chambers of complaint and gossip. I’ve caught myself doing this—seeking out the complainer’s circle, indulging in the lure of rage-bait conversations. Misery really does love company, and if I need to blame, gossip, or elevate myself by putting others down, there’s always someone eager to join me. Yet Scripture reminds us: “Do not be misled: ‘Bad company corrupts good character’” (1 Corinthians 15:33).
It makes me stop and ask: Am I being a voice of peace, or am I fueling the fire of division?
I even mentioned this to my God-fearing friend using TikTok as an example. That platform’s algorithm mirrors life itself: what we choose to consume is what multiplies in our feed. If I click on fights, anger, or division, I’ll see more of it. But when I engage with gospel music, sermons, or messages of encouragement, suddenly my feed overflows with light.
Life is no different—we feed our souls with either love or poison, encouragement or negativity. The choice is ours.
Too often, I fall victim to being a victim, choosing the weaker path of complaint or self-pity. But I know the truth: I must make a conscious choice to walk with those on the path of righteousness, to surround myself with God’s stewards of love and faith, and to be the kind of company that lifts others toward Him.
Closing Prayer
Heavenly Father,
Thank You for surrounding me with people who encourage me in my walk with You. Guard my heart from the lure of negativity and gossip, and give me discernment to choose company that feeds my spirit with truth, love, and light. May my own words and presence be a source of encouragement and peace to others. Draw me closer to You daily, and let my life reflect the company of Christ I keep within me.
In Jesus’ name, Amen.
God-Made, Not Self-Made
“Yet you, Lord, are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand.” – Isaiah 64:8
I often hear the phrase “self-made man”—but I believe it is a myth. Nothing about my life or who I have become was accomplished on my own. Every step of my journey has been shaped by people, experiences, and, above all, by God’s hand.
From my earliest memories—my parents, siblings, and childhood moments both painful and joyful—God was forming me. In young adulthood, through coworkers, friends, bosses, successes, and failures, He continued to mold me. Parenthood brought its own trials, joys, and regrets. My daughters shaped me as much as I shaped them. My marriage has been a teacher too, through seasons of love, struggle, and growth.
Looking back, I cannot claim to be “self-made.” I am God-made—refined through every person, every challenge, every blessing, every wound. At 57 years old, I’ve come to understand that this earthly journey is temporary. We are passing through, being prepared for the eternal freedom that awaits us in our Creator.
So I no longer label things as good or bad. They simply are. All of it—the joys and the heartbreaks—are for our sake, and God uses them for a greater purpose. As someone once said, “We must not only walk with God in the summers of life, but also praise Him in the winters.”
Through every season, He remains the Potter, and we remain the clay in His hands.
Closing Prayer
Heavenly Father,
Thank You for shaping me through every season of my life—through people I love, through challenges I resisted, through blessings I sometimes overlooked. Teach me to see Your hand in all things, and to give You praise not only in seasons of joy but also in times of trial. Keep molding me into the person You created me to be, until I am fully Yours.
In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Faith at the Edge of Comfort
Growth happens at the edges of our comfort. To truly evolve, we must push beyond what is easy and embrace the challenges that demand sacrifice and perseverance. Faith and character are not built in the soft places of ease, but in the stretching, testing moments that call us to rise above ourselves.
“Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.”
— James 1:2–4 (NIV)
Know that God moves with those who step boldly into the unknown, seeking a life of purpose and continuous growth. His blessings favor the disciplined and the steadfast—those who commit to righteousness with unwavering resolve.
“No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it.”
— Hebrews 12:11 (NIV)
Break free from the chains of comfort. Find purpose in the work required to become all that you are capable of being. The lazy and the victim-minded will never complain their way to victory. Victory belongs to those who walk by faith, take action, and allow God’s refining fire to shape them into vessels of His glory.
“Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever.”
— 1 Corinthians 9:24–25 (NIV)
Closing Prayer
Heavenly Father,
Give me courage to step beyond the borders of my comfort and into the places where You are calling me. Strengthen me when discipline feels heavy and perseverance seems too long. Train my heart to embrace trials as the very soil where my faith takes root and grows strong. Lord, help me to rise above complacency and excuses, fixing my eyes on the eternal prize You promise to those who remain steadfast. May my growth bring glory to Your name and serve as a light to others who are searching for courage to walk their own path of faith.
In Jesus’ name,
Amen.
Standing Firm in God’s Provision
“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.” – Psalm 23:1
In times of change and uncertainty, voices of doubt and fear often rise the loudest. Those without faith cry out, not in trust, but in despair—seeking sympathy rather than solutions, convincing others of their victimhood rather than resting in God’s provision. It’s easy to be swayed by such noise, to get caught up in the whirlwind of complaints and anxieties. But as believers, we are called to stand firm, knowing that God provides all we need.
When challenges arise, do not let fear or negativity shake you. Do not fall into the trap of believing that hardship means abandonment. Instead, remember that God has already made a way. He is the provider, the sustainer, and the one who strengthens us to overcome every obstacle. The enemy wants you to believe that you are lacking, but the truth is, in Christ, you have everything you need.
Today, stand on the promise that God will provide. Even when the faithless shout the loudest, let your confidence be quiet but unshakable. Walk forward in faith, knowing that He will never leave you short of what is necessary to fulfill His purpose.
Prayer:
Lord, help me to trust in Your provision, even when doubt surrounds me. Strengthen my faith so that I am not swayed by the voices of fear and victimhood. Remind me that You are my Shepherd, and in You, I lack nothing. Amen.
Running from Ourselves
In my darkest moments—especially in the grip of alcoholism and addiction—I wanted nothing more than to get as far away from myself as possible. I couldn’t stand being with my own feelings, my emotions, and especially my thoughts. My thoughts, my thoughts, my thoughts—they churned endlessly. I would have done anything to escape.
People often describe it as wanting to crawl out of their own skin. That’s exactly what it felt like—my mind tricking my emotions into believing I had to run. And so the escape came. Sometimes in the form of anxiety. Sometimes in a drink or a drug to numb the pain. Sometimes in overwork, gambling, overeating, or reckless choices. Anything to get away from myself.
But the truth is, no matter how far we run, we always carry ourselves with us. As Seneca once said, “Remember, when you travel, you still have to take yourself with you.” The escape is an illusion.
To truly live, we must stop running. We must face our feelings. We must sit with the very anxieties we are desperate to avoid. Yet this is not something we can do in our own strength. Left to myself, I clung tightly to the rope of life—even as it scorched my hands. But God calls me to let go.
Martin Luther once said, “I have held many things in my hands, and I have lost them all; but whatever I have placed in God’s hands, that I still possess.” That’s the invitation—not to flee, but to come within, where God Himself waits.
Jesus gives us the same invitation:
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” — Matthew 11:28–29
Deep within us lies peace, a soul untouched by ego or fear. But it is buried under the noise of our thoughts. We think we must run, when in truth we must look within—to the God who has been calling us home all along.
There is no peace in the regrets of the past, nor in the illusions of the future. Only here. Only now. That is where God is found.
Prayer
Heavenly Father, when I am tempted to run from myself, remind me that You are my refuge. Teach me to be still, to let go, and to trust You with every moment. Quiet the noise of my thoughts and let Your peace rise within me. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Wake Up
Most of us would never admit we’re living unconsciously. Yet if we’re honest, much of our life is spent lost in thought — worries, regrets, and rehearsals of what might come next. Our minds, the most powerful computers ever made, end up running the show. Instead of serving us, they dictate the battleground between peace and panic.
I’ve discovered that the majority of my thoughts — 98% or more — are unhelpful. They’re recycled stories about the past or anxious predictions about the future. The mind’s chatter is endless, and most of it leads nowhere. But beneath that noise, there is something greater: the quiet observer. That still awareness, untouched by the turbulence of thought, is who we really are.
Mooji puts it beautifully: “When consciousness awakens from the dream of personhood and realises that it is the pure Self, that is called liberation, that is called awakening, that is called God-realization.”
This truth changes everything. We are not the voice in our heads. We are the awareness that notices it. Like clouds drifting across the sky, thoughts come and go — but we are the sky. Eternal. Unmoved. Whole.
Today, brothers and sisters, I invite you to take time — a minute, five minutes, maybe an hour — to sit quietly. Breathe. Notice the stream of thoughts without being swept away. Rest in the essence of who you are. In that stillness, we remember we are not just passing bodies in a busy world, but eternal souls, holy and connected to our Creator.
We are God’s gift. We are the miracle of eternity.
“Be still, and know that I am God.” — Psalm 46:10
Practice for Today:
Sit quietly for a few minutes.
Follow your breath — in deeply, out slowly.
When thoughts arise, don’t fight them. Just notice and let them pass.
Rest in the awareness that is watching — your true Self.
Closing Prayer:
Lord, help us awaken from the dream of worry and fear. Quiet our minds and guide us into the eternal presence of who we truly are in You. May we walk today not as restless minds but as awakened souls, grounded in Your peace. Amen.
Breaking the Chains of Victimhood: A Journey Inward
In our modern world, it’s astonishing how narratives of victimhood can be amplified by the media and social platforms. Often, when we lack immediate problems, we invent them or let generational and societal issues define who we are. But this devotional invites us to look inward and recognize how much of our victim mentality can be self-created—and how we can break free.
A Biblical Reflection
Think of the Israelites, who, after being freed from real slavery, quickly began to complain in the desert. Despite their new freedom, they slipped back into a mindset of victimhood. It’s a powerful reminder that the mind and ego often re-enslave us to a sense of dissatisfaction, even after we’ve been set free.
Incorporating Step 4 of AA: Resentments and Self-Reflection
In the spirit of introspection, we can draw from the wisdom of Alcoholics Anonymous’ Step 4. This step, focused on examining resentments, teaches us that the things and people we resent often point back to our own character defects. In other words, most of the problem is actually within us. As we uncover that 90% or more of what we perceive as external obstacles are actually reflections of our own issues, we realize that we are the common denominator in our own pity party.
A Call to Look Within
This is a call to stand before the mirror and ask if we are allowing external narratives to define us. Are we blaming others so we don’t have to face our own role in our struggles? When we recognize that many of our obstacles are partly self-created, we gain the power to change our perspective.
Scriptural Encouragement
Galatians 5:1 reminds us, “It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.”
We are encouraged not to let the world convince us that we are perpetual victims. Instead, we can look inward, embrace faith, and find true freedom and responsibility.
Closing Thought
May we have the courage to step out of the desert of complaint and walk into the freedom that comes from introspection, faith, and recognizing that the common denominator in our struggles is often ourselves. Let’s break those chains of victimhood and embrace the true freedom already within us.
The God Beyond Proof
Faith reveals what logic cannot
Sri Yukteswar, a revered Indian yogi of the late 19th and early 20th century, was known as a bridge-builder between East and West. He was the guru of Paramahansa Yogananda, whose book Autobiography of a Yogi has inspired countless seekers. Though rooted in the ancient teachings of yoga, Sri Yukteswar often pointed to the harmony between yogic wisdom and the Bible. He taught that the presence of God cannot be proven by science or grasped by the intellect, but can be directly experienced in the stillness of the soul.
We spend so much of our lives trying to figure God out. Books are written, arguments are staged, science is stretched to its limits, all in an effort to prove or disprove His existence. It’s almost as if we’re trying to capture the ocean in a teacup — confining the infinite within the fragile limits of our intellect.
But God was never meant to be measured by our instruments or contained in our logic. As Sri Yukteswar once said, “God cannot be surmised.” He cannot be proven in a laboratory or dissected by human thought.
And yet, He can be experienced.
Jesus told us, “The kingdom of God is within you” (Luke 17:21). Paul reminded us, “In Him we live and move and have our being” (Acts 17:28). The presence of God is not something we need to hunt down with tools or theories; it is already within us, waiting to be recognized.
When we stop striving to “figure Him out” and instead quiet our minds, open our hearts, and allow ourselves to rest in His presence, we discover what words and proofs never could. We encounter the Living God firsthand.
Reflection
Where in your life are you still trying to “capture the ocean in a teacup”? What would it look like to release the need to figure everything out and instead open yourself to God’s presence within you today?
Prayer
Father, forgive me for the times I’ve tried to contain You in my small thoughts and limited understanding. Teach me to seek not proof, but Presence. Let me rest in the truth that You are within me, closer than breath, wider than the ocean. Amen.
Good News
What is the “good news” in a world where nearly everything we see—whether on television, the radio, or the deadliest of all devices, our cell phones—seems to scream otherwise?
Every podcast, post, broadcast, and headline pushes the same message: there is more wrong with the world than we can possibly handle. Whether right or left, the news cycle stokes insecurity, ego, and fear. It feeds on our anxiety because anxiety keeps us watching. I’ve told my kids many times—the news is not truly about informing. It is a business, and like every business, it survives by selling a product. That product is not truth; it is your attention. And attention is bought with fear.
On one side, I’ve heard people insist “they want to make all of our kids gay.” On the other, I’ve heard claims that anyone with a conservative view must hate immigrants and want them deported. These extremes aren’t about truth—they’re about keeping us engaged, divided, and upset. Division sells. Fear sells. Negativity sells.
But here is where the good news breaks through. The good news is not a headline. The good news is not another opinion shouted across a screen. The good news is what God has already given us. He gave us His Word, an instruction manual for living; The Bible. And more than that—God Himself reduced His station to take on flesh as Jesus Christ, showing us humility, forgiveness, service, and love.
It takes discipline to resist the pull of the world’s outrage machine. It takes steadfast believers to hold firm to God’s Word rather than be ensnared by the world’s attempt at damnation. Anxiety may be low-grade atheism, but faith is the antidote. The discipline of turning away from noise and tuning into the Spirit is the only way to live free.
So, my brothers and sisters, though I come to you through the same medium that so often spreads division, I urge you—turn it off. Make space for God. Let your heart and mind dwell not on the headlines but on the Good News of Christ, who created the heavens and the earth, who conquered death, and who sets before us a path of love and grace that leads to eternity.
That is the only news worth living by.
Amen.
“Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—His good, pleasing and perfect will.” — Romans 12:2
Prayer:
Lord, help us to shut out the noise of this world and hear only Your truth. Give us discipline to resist fear, and courage to stand steadfast in Your Word. May our hearts rest in the Good News of Jesus Christ, who gives us peace, hope, and eternal life. Amen.
To Be Seen by God
So much of life has been spent seeking the attention of others—through actions, words, even appearance. I tried to set myself apart, to be different, whether by what I wore or by stirring reactions with what I did. Beneath it all was an underlying sense of inadequacy, the whisper of the mind and ego that I was “not enough” and had to prove otherwise.
Looking back at old memories and Facebook posts, I sometimes cringe. Who was that person so starved for attention that he would say controversial or even vile things just to spark a reaction—positive or negative? I see now how the mind and ego are endlessly hungry, playing roles like actors on a stage, desperate for applause.
We live in a world of selfies and status updates, constantly broadcasting curated versions of ourselves—different than what God designed us to be. But the truth is, we owe the world nothing in terms of how we present ourselves. What is “lacking” has already been given: the unconditional acceptance of God through Jesus Christ.
God already knows me—my heart, my flaws, my truth. His love is not conditional on my performance, image, or popularity. It is steady, unchanging, and complete. Like the simple devotion of a dog who loves us right or wrong, God’s attention never wavers. I don’t have to earn it; I just need to receive it.
There are two sides within us:
The eternal soul, rooted in peace, love, and God’s acceptance.
The ego of the flesh, craving recognition, always striving to be seen.
But we do not need what the world dangles before us—more money, more recognition, more shiny things. God has already given us breath in our lungs, life in our bodies, and eternity in our souls. The true shining light is not our ego’s spotlight but the eternal gift of God’s love.
Take heed, my brothers and sisters: God sees you. He always has. His gaze is not earned by striving but given freely by grace. Rest in that. For the attention of the world fades, but the love of God endures forever.
“The Lord looks at the heart.” — 1 Samuel 16:7
Prayer
Heavenly Father,
Forgive me for the times I have sought the fleeting approval of others instead of resting in Your eternal love. Quiet the voice of my ego and awaken my soul to the truth that You see me, You know me, and You love me just as I am. May I live each day seeking only Your attention, walking in the peace of Your presence. Amen.
Being Right with God
How much of our energy is spent on the need to be right?
Think about it — gossip is built on the hope that someone else is wrong, that their flaws will confirm our own righteousness. Social media is full of grandstanding on divisive topics, where the unspoken message is, I’m right, they’re wrong. Even complaining has the same root — it’s a subtle way of saying, the world should change, but I shouldn’t have to.
At its core, this obsession with being right is not strength — it’s insecurity. It’s the child within us demanding, see me, hear me, agree with me. It’s the ego screaming for validation, craving to be affirmed, to be told we are good and justified.
The Cost of Needing to be right
But the cost of always needing to be right is high.
It divides us. When we focus on proving we are right, we stop listening. We turn people into opponents instead of partners.
It feeds resentment. If others don’t agree, we feel wronged — even attacked.
It keeps us stuck. Complaining about what should be different is easier than asking how we might change.
The need to be right becomes a prison. It traps us in defensiveness and steals our ability to grow.
Moving Beyond the Ego
What if we let go of being right?
What if the goal wasn’t to win the argument but to understand? What if instead of posting to prove a point, we paused long enough to examine why we feel the need to be heard so badly?
Maturity is realizing that being right is often less important than being kind. True strength is in being willing to change — to admit, I might not have the full picture.
The Quiet Power of Humility
When we stop demanding to be right, we create space for wisdom. We listen better. We soften. We grow.
Maybe the real victory isn’t proving our point — it’s living with enough peace inside that we don’t have to.
“Do not be wise in your own eyes; fear the Lord and shun evil.” — Proverbs 3:7
Crowned me before you cleaned me
"You crowned me before You cleansed me — grace that came long before I ever earned it."
Romans 5:8
"But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us."
James 2:13
"Mercy triumphs over judgment."
Reflection
God’s grace does not wait for our perfection. He did not withhold His love until we got it right — He crowned us first. That crown of favor and belonging came before we ever proved ourselves worthy.
Yet our minds and egos often resist this truth. We judge ourselves harshly, convinced we must perform, clean up, or “get better” before God can truly love us. We judge others too, deciding who “deserves” grace and who doesn’t. But James reminds us: mercy triumphs over judgment.
Grace dismantles the walls we build with human judgment. It sets us free from the exhausting need to measure up and invites us to see others through God’s lens of mercy. The crown comes before the cleansing — and it is that very crown that leads to the transformation we seek.
Application
Release Judgment: When your ego starts keeping score, pause and let mercy have the final word.
Receive First, Act Second: Live as one already crowned, letting grace lead your growth instead of striving to earn it.
Extend Mercy: Offer grace to others before they “deserve” it — the same way Christ did for you.
Song: ‘NEVER GAVE UP’ by Tasha Cobbs Leonard
https://youtu.be/9024E37cCSs?si=eiXJci9NpAtFankk
Prayer
Lord, thank You for crowning me before cleansing me. Thank You that Your mercy has triumphed over judgment in my life. Forgive me when my mind and ego make me hard on myself and on others. Teach me to walk in the freedom of Your grace and to offer mercy just as freely as You have given it to me. Amen.
More Than My Thoughts
My Gracious God,
Help me to embrace what I do not understand. So often, my mind begins to spin — brief thoughts turn into storms, and hidden wounds release pain and fear. Teach me, Lord, to be still when thoughts and emotions are stirred.
I confess, I struggle to let my thoughts pass. I search for meaning in why they come, and when they are unpleasant, I wrestle for answers that never satisfy. I believe the enemy uses these moments to keep my soul in unease, to distract me from Your peace.
Center my soul, O Lord, as these thoughts move like passing clouds. Let none take hold of me. Help me observe them without absorbing them, trusting that I am more than what passes through my mind.
Old habits of overthinking fight to stay alive — and yet, I have never won by outthinking my thoughts. Thinking only leads to more thinking, more triggers, more energy wasted.
So I surrender. Let it pass, O Lord. Let me remember that what I think is not who I am. Quiet my heart, still my mind, and let my soul rest in the place where You dwell.
“You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in You.” — Isaiah 26:3
Reflection
Overthinking is often my attempt to feel in control. But God calls me to trust Him, not to untangle every thread in my mind. The work is not in finding the perfect answer but in resting in the One who holds all answers.
Moving from Overthinking to Grounding in God
Breathe & Pray: Pause, take a deep breath, and whisper a short prayer such as “Lord, still my mind.”
Speak Scripture Out Loud: Repeat a verse like Isaiah 26:3 or Psalm 62:5 (“Yes, my soul, find rest in God; my hope comes from Him”).
Name & Release: Identify the thought causing the spin and say, “I release this to You, Lord.”
Reconnect with Your Body: Feel your feet on the ground, relax your shoulders, and slow your breathing — a physical reminder that you are safe in Him.
Redirect with Gratitude: List three things you are grateful for, anchoring your thoughts in God’s goodness instead of fear.
Closing Prayer:
Lord, I place my thoughts, fears, and questions at Your feet. Keep me steadfast in Your presence and guard my mind with Your peace. Teach me to release control, rest in Your promises, and find my calm in You. Amen.
Jireh
Step by Step with Jehovah Jireh
Scripture:
“So Abraham called that place The Lord Will Provide. And to this day it is said, ‘On the mountain of the Lord it will be provided.’” — Genesis 22:14
“Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.” — Psalm 119:105
Reflection
Jehovah Jireh — “The Lord will provide.” Abraham spoke these words on the mountain after God provided a ram to take the place of Isaac. What strikes me is that God didn’t provide the ram a day early, or a week early, but right when Abraham needed it most.
Life can feel uncertain, even frightening, when we don’t see the whole road ahead. God’s Word tells us it is a lamp to our feet, not a floodlight that shows us the entire journey. A lamp illuminates just the next step. God provides clarity just enough for where we are, not always for where we want to go.
Jehovah Jireh is not just the God who provides things — He provides direction, peace, and assurance in each step we take by faith. Trust is built in those moments where we can only see enough to move forward one step at a time.
Takeaway
God’s provision may not arrive early, but it is never late.
Our job is not to see the whole path, but to stay faithful to the light we’ve been given.
Every time we take the next step, we demonstrate trust in Jehovah Jireh — the One who sees ahead and provides.
Prayer
Father, thank You for being Jehovah Jireh, the God who provides. Thank You for lighting my next step, even when I want to see the whole road ahead. Help me to trust that You know what’s coming and that Your timing is perfect. Teach me to walk by faith, step by step, knowing You will provide exactly what I need — not just in resources, but in courage and wisdom. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
