Letting Go and Letting God
“Be still, and know that I am God.” — Psalm 46:10
There are two voices within us. One is “the self” — the part of us that clings to control, reacts in fear, and carries the weight of ego and past hurts. It strategizes, defends, and demands, often running wild in an effort to shape the world to its liking. This self is restless, always chasing and striving, yet never fully at peace.
Then, there is the soul—the eternal, the observer. This is the part of us that doesn’t grasp or push but simply watches, listens, and trusts. It is the quiet knowing, the deep stillness beneath the storm, the voice that whispers,
“You are already held. You are already loved. You don’t have to fight so hard.”
God calls us to step back from the self that clings and step into the soul that surrenders. He invites us to release our fearful thinking, our need to control, and our endless striving. When we do, we find that He was always there, holding it all together.
Today, take a breath. Step back. Observe without reacting. Let your soul, not your self, be the one that leads.
Prayer:
Lord, help me to quiet the restless self within me. Teach me to trust in You, to step back from my fears and my need to control, and to rest in the peace of Your presence. Let my soul be my guide, rooted in Your eternal love. Amen.
The Fear of Suffering
“For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.” — 2 Timothy 1:7
Reflection:
Michel de Montaigne’s words remind us, “A man who fears suffering is already suffering from what he fears”
This is deep truth—fear itself can be just as painful as the thing we are afraid of. When we dwell on what could happen, we imprison ourselves in suffering before anything even occurs. Fear of loss, rejection, failure, or hardship can weigh us down, robbing us of joy and peace long before we face the actual challenge.
But God calls us to live differently.
In Isaiah 41:10, He tells us: “Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, yes, I will help you, I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.”
This is a promise that no matter what suffering we may face, we do not face it alone. When we let fear rule our hearts, we are choosing to carry burdens that God has already offered to carry for us.
Jesus Himself reminds us in Matthew 6:34:
“Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”
Worrying about suffering does not prevent it; it only drains us of the strength we need to endure and overcome when trials come.
Instead of fearing suffering, we are called to trust. Trust that God is in control. Trust that He is strengthening us. Trust that even in suffering, He is working for our good.
Prayer:
Father, I lay my fears before You today. I know that You have not given me a spirit of fear but of power, love, and a sound mind. Help me to trust in Your strength rather than my worries. When fear creeps in, remind me of Your promises and fill me with Your peace. I choose faith over fear, knowing that You walk with me through every trial. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Prayer for Peace
Father God,
Help me to be a servant of Your love and Your peace. Let me be a beacon of all that is good, showing compassion to my fellow man. I know that all good on this earth begins and ends with You. Let me carry the message You’ve taught us—peace, forgiveness, and understanding—even when those around us hold different opinions.
Lord, I confess: I too have participated in this divide. I have shared far too many opinions with anyone who would listen—even with those who never asked for them. Forgive me, O Lord, for being part of the problem, for ever believing our judgment of others was just. Only You, my God, have the authority to judge. Forgive me for pushing our own “right thinking” onto others, instead of humbly seeking Your truth.
“Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.” — Matthew 7:1–2
We know our differences are often clouded by ego, fear, and the illusion of control. Yet, in truth, we have very little control over the things our mind and ego create. Help us to look within and remember that the peace You planted in our souls is already ours. If we would only share what we have been given, there would be no desire to hurt, injure, or speak ill of others.
“What causes fights and quarrels among you? Don’t they come from your desires that battle within you?” — James 4:1
“Do not speak evil against one another, brothers.” — James 4:11
Precious Lord, draw us close to what truly matters: unity with You. Let peace, love, understanding, and forgiveness flow through us. Lead us away from selfish thinking, harsh words, and the belief that anyone who thinks differently is our enemy.
“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God.” — Matthew 5:9
“Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.” — Ephesians 4:32
Today, Lord, I pray for healing. Restore us to the Father, to the eternal soul, and to the love You have so freely given. Let it begin with us.
Amen.
Over-Sharing Your Thoughts
Most of my troubles in life have come from talking too much and running my mouth. When my confidence feels shaky, I sometimes overcompensate by filling the silence with words. At first glance, this may not seem like a problem—sharing our thoughts can be good. But when the motive is to fill a void or avoid silence, it becomes something else entirely.
Silence, I’ve learned, has great value. It is a space where God can meet us. When I rush to fill it with chatter, it often leads me into unspiritual territory—gossip, complaining, venting, or conversations that open the door to unhealthy interactions. Sometimes this happens in casual conversations; other times it happens through oversharing on social media. And no matter the intention, words can be misinterpreted. As the old saying goes: “Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak and to remove all doubt.”
The truth is, spiritual connection breeds confidence. God gives us the quiet strength that frees us from needing constant human affirmation. We don’t need to express every thought that passes through our mind. Instead, we can rest in the assurance that He knows us fully and gives us all the validation we truly need.
“Set a guard, O Lord, over my mouth; keep watch over the door of my lips!” — Psalm 141:3
Closing Prayer
Lord, You know how quickly my tongue can get me into trouble. Help me to pause before I speak and to choose silence when silence honors You more. Let my words build up and not tear down. Guard my lips, Lord, and give me confidence in Your presence so I don’t need to seek approval in careless words. Amen.?
The Mirror of Judgment
The Spanish philosopher Baltasar Gracián once wrote, “There are some who want to get taller by cutting off the heads of others.” His words capture a truth we all recognize: sometimes our sense of worth is built not on our own growth, but on tearing others down.
Scripture reminds us again and again of this age-old habit of judgment and slander:
“Judge not, that you be not judged. For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you.” — Matthew 7:1–2
“Do not speak evil against one another, brothers.” — James 4:11
“Why do you see the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye?” — Matthew 7:3
“Therefore you have no excuse, O man, every one of you who judges. For in passing judgment on another you condemn yourself, because you, the judge, practice the very same things.” — Romans 2:1
When I look at others and focus on their flaws, it often isn’t really about them—it’s about me. My ego finds comfort in pointing out their mistakes, because it helps me avoid facing my own. Gossip, criticism, and judgment once felt like small victories, but in reality, they were chains I carried.
The faults I notice in others often mirror my own. God uses the people around me like a mirror—not to condemn, but to invite me into compassion, humility, and change. Yet the ego, and the enemy of our souls, delights when we cut others down, because it blinds us from seeing who we truly are in Christ.
But Jesus calls us to a different way: to release judgment, to measure with mercy, and to forgive as freely as we have been forgiven.
Closing Prayer
Heavenly Father, forgive me for the times I’ve tried to feel taller by cutting others down. Help me to see people through Your eyes, not through the lens of my ego. Teach me to be slow to judge and quick to love. May my words build up, not tear down, and may my heart reflect Your grace in every interaction. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Surrender
When many hear the word surrender, they think of giving up, of being held captive. And in a way, I love that definition—because giving up is exactly what’s required. Not in defeat, but in victory. It takes great courage to hand your life over to God.
But what do we give up? Our selfishness. Our need to control. The carefully crafted illusions we present to others. For me, it meant surrendering the fraud of my supposed self-control.
It’s exhausting to play God—to keep up the business of pretending I have control over life. The truth is, I don’t. None of us do. All we really have is faith and trust in something greater. A friend once told me something both hilarious and profound:
“Do you know the difference between you and God? God doesn’t walk around trying to be you.”
That line still makes me laugh, but it also humbles me—because no one in their right mind would put me in charge of their life.
So why not let go and let God? Why not step aside and become what we were meant to be: followers of our Creator? His grace waits for us. All He asks is willingness—to release the illusion of control and walk in reverence.
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.”
— Proverbs 3:5–6
My brothers and sisters, the sooner we give our lives back to the One who gave us life in the first place, the sooner we will discover true peace.
Closing Prayer
Heavenly Father,
I lay down the burden of control and surrender my life into Your hands. Teach me to trust You fully, to let go of my own will, and to walk in the freedom of Your grace. Help me release fear, pride, and self-reliance, and rest in the peace of knowing that You alone are in control. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
A Walk with God Is Free
I love when Charles Bukowski said, “The less I needed, the better I felt.”
This is not just a quote but a spiritual way of life. In my journey, I’ve discovered that the best things in life truly are free—especially the presence of God.
As I became more awake to Him, I began to see that life’s simplest gifts are its greatest treasures. During the pandemic, when so much of the world shut down, one thing was always available in abundance: a walk through the neighborhood. I would often take my dog and find myself renewed. The movement of my body, the freshness of the air, the beauty of creation, and the loyal love of my dog reminded me that I was never walking alone—God was right there with me.
Recently, while walking through a high-end department store on the way to dinner with my daughter, I noticed all the shiny displays, the polished employees, and the carefully dressed patrons. At one time, I would have longed for such a lifestyle. But now, it all seemed hollow compared to the richness of God’s presence. It wasn’t judgment—it simply no longer mattered. What matters are the eternal truths: I love my God. I love my family. I am grateful for the very gift of existence.
This awakening didn’t come easily. It was born out of my ego, my selfishness, and my emotional destruction. Yet in the ashes, God gave me new eyes to see.
Today, I treasure the simple blessings: a good cup of coffee with my wife, walking my dog, FaceTiming with my daughters, and quiet moments of prayer and meditation where I connect with the Lord. These are the riches no store can sell.
Brothers and sisters, don’t you see? Everything we need has already been given to us. Freely, without cost, God has poured out the love of existence and the promise of eternity.
Truly, “the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 6:23)
Prayer:
Lord, remind me each day that I already hold the greatest treasures—Your presence, Your love, and the people You’ve placed in my life. May I walk simply and freely with You, grateful for the gifts that cost nothing but mean everything. Amen.
Contempt Before Investigation
When I first stepped into the rooms of AA, I felt out of place. Looking around, I saw people covered in tattoos, worn down by life, looking far older than their years. My instinct was fear—these aren’t my people. I was ready to turn away.
But there’s a phrase often spoken in the rooms: “contempt before investigation.” It means we dismiss what we don’t understand before we’ve taken the time to truly see it.
The truth is, I had judged the cover of the book without ever opening its pages. I thought I saw brokenness—but when I stayed long enough to listen, I discovered something far greater. I saw the beauty of their souls. Beneath the rough edges, I found men and women being remade by grace, with hearts open and alive in a way the world often overlooks.
And isn’t this just how God works? Jesus chose fishermen, tax collectors, zealots—the broken, the dispirited, the outcasts—to become His disciples. They didn’t look like leaders, yet they carried His message of hope and redemption to the world. What the world despised, God entrusted with eternity.
“Stop judging by mere appearances, but instead judge correctly.”
— John 7:24
“But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong.”
— 1 Corinthians 1:27
The tattoos, the miles of hardship etched on faces, the weary eyes—all of these are not the essence of a person. They are mile markers of a journey. And often, those journeys reveal a strength and surrender to God that far outshines anything the world calls “respectable.”
Just as God told Samuel:
“For the Lord sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.”
— 1 Samuel 16:7
Reflection
Have you ever dismissed someone—or even an entire group—because of how they looked, only to later find God’s grace alive in them? Where in your life do you need to push past contempt and move into investigation, listening, and compassion?
Prayer
Lord, forgive me for the times I’ve judged Your children by their scars, their age, their tattoos, or their weary faces. Give me eyes to see beyond appearances, to the heart where You dwell. Remind me that You often use the broken, the weary, and the least likely to carry Your greatest message. May I look on others with compassion and honor the beauty of their souls. Amen.
Killing Time
We say we’re “killing time” as if time were an enemy. But in truth, time is our greatest gift. Each moment is a piece of eternity placed into our hands. And yet, how often do we rush through it, or try to distract ourselves from it?
We hurry through traffic, weaving between lanes as if the road is a race. We check our watch during a movie instead of letting ourselves be carried away by the story. We grow agitated in line at the grocery store, or impatient when a pedestrian takes their time crossing the street. Beneath it all lies a subtle resistance to where we are. It’s as if our minds are saying, “Anywhere but here.”
The mind finds the present moment dull. It longs for what’s next, convinced that something better must be waiting just beyond the horizon. But when we live this way, we sacrifice the now. We rush through our children’s early years, eager for them to grow up, only to ache with sorrow when they finally leave home. We save and scrimp for some future oasis of time, all the while missing the sacredness of life as it unfolds today.
Like petulant children, we push away what we have, convinced it’s not enough. But what if the opposite is true? What if the fullness of life isn’t somewhere else, but right here — in the laugh around the dinner table, the stillness of the morning, even the waiting in line?
“This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.” (Psalm 118:24).
Not tomorrow. Not when the traffic clears, or the savings account grows, or the kids are older. This day. This moment. Right now.
When we kill time, we’re not just rushing hours — we’re refusing God’s gift. But when we receive the present moment as it is, we find that time doesn’t need to be killed. It needs to be lived.
Reflection Question:
Where in your life are you “killing time” instead of living fully in the present?
Prayer:
Lord, forgive me for the moments I rush past, the blessings I overlook, and the gifts I ignore in pursuit of what’s next. Teach me to rejoice in the day You have made, to honor the present as holy ground, and to see You in the ordinary moments I so easily dismiss. Amen.
Choose Wisely
A wise man once said:
“Hate has 4 letters but so does Love. Enemies has 7 letters but so does Friends. Lying has 5 letters but so does Truth. Cry has 3 letters but so does Joy. Negativity has 10 letters but so does Positivity. Life is 2 sided. Choose the better side of it.”
Life often places us at crossroads. Every day we are presented with choices—sometimes small, sometimes life-altering—but each one shapes the direction of our soul. To love or to hate, to forgive or to resent, to lift up or to tear down. These choices are not neutral; they move us either upward toward God or downward into self.
Scripture reminds us:
“I call heaven and earth to witness against you today, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and curse. Therefore, choose life, that you and your offspring may live.” — Deuteronomy 30:19
Choosing life is choosing God. It is choosing the better side, even when it is the harder side. Striving upward means disciplining our hearts to lean toward truth, forgiveness, joy, and faith—even when our ego whispers otherwise. Growth in Christ is not automatic. It requires intention, the will to rise, and the courage to say “yes” to God in the small daily moments.
When John’s Gospel tells us, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5), we are reminded that no matter how dark the world feels, choosing God’s side places us in His light. And that light never loses.
Reflection Question
Where in your life today are you being called to “choose the better side”? What step, however small, can you take upward toward God?
Closing Prayer
Heavenly Father, guide my choices today. When I am tempted to respond with anger, remind me of love. When I am pulled toward despair, remind me of joy. When lies and fear surround me, remind me of truth and courage. Help me to choose wisely and to strive upward toward You in all that I do. Amen.
Wake Up Number 37
In the movie The Mothman Prophecies, the visions and prophecies are cryptic—often misunderstood until tragedy has already struck. A message like “Wake up number 37” embodies this haunting theme: a call that isn’t fully understood until it is almost too late.
Spiritually, we face the same dilemma. God whispers, nudges, and warns us through His Word, through our conscience, and through the Spirit. Yet, our ego—the voice of pride, fear, and self—keeps us asleep. We ignore the wake-up call because we think there is still time, or because the message feels unclear.
But Jesus says, “Awake, O sleeper, rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you” (Ephesians 5:14). This is not a casual suggestion—it’s a spiritual emergency. Just as the movie main character John Klein banged on the window in desperation crying, “Wake up!”, God calls to each of us to wake from our unconscious living.
The number 37 itself can remind us of the fragility of time—none of us know which “number” will be our last. To “wake up” is to stop drifting in autopilot, to see clearly that we are not our egos, but children of God being called home.
The vision is clear: don’t wait until your own bridge to collapse. Don’t wait until the water rises. Don’t wait until it is too late.
God is whispering now, and for those who will listen, His whisper becomes a lifeline:
“Wake up, beloved. Come home.”
Reflection Question
Where in my life am I still asleep—running on ego, fear, or pride—when God is asking me to wake up and return to Him today?
Closing Prayer
Lord, awaken me from my slumber. Remove the veil of ego that blinds me to Your truth. Let me not wait until it is too late, but help me to hear Your voice now. May I rise into the light of Christ, fully awake and fully alive in You. Amen.
Speak to What We Know
What is it that we truly know? If we’re honest, the answer is: not much.
I don’t know physics, biology, or chemistry. I couldn’t tell you how the chair I’m sitting in was crafted, or how the computer I’m typing on really works. I don’t know the age of the trees that surround me, or how the grass beneath my feet first took root.
So much of our world is wrapped in mystery. And deep down, we all know we don’t know a whole lot—and that scares us. So we pretend. We posture. We talk as if we understand the economy, politics, or the mysteries of science, when in reality, much of it is far beyond us. If a reporter stopped me today and asked me to explain world affairs, I’d probably stumble, make something up, or simply admit, I have no clue.
Socrates once said: “The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.” And that brings me back to the question: what do we really know?
I know I love my kids, my wife, my dog, and my God who placed me here.
I know I value my friends and the gift of relationships.
I know others love their families, their children, and their pets.
These are things that don’t need textbooks or theories to explain. They are lived truths.
That’s why I choose to talk to people about what they know: their children, their aging parents, the joys and struggles of daily life. I talk baseball with baseball fans, music with music lovers. Music in particular has a way of transcending knowledge—it reaches into a place of shared experience we can’t fully explain.
And above all, I choose kindness. Even to strangers. Because in truth, there are no strangers—we’re all connected. When you speak to people in love, about what matters to them, you touch the universal truths. These constants are not true because we simply believe in them; they are true because we know them.
So, brothers and sisters, in a world so complicated and full of uncertainty, let us speak to what we know. Love transcends it all. It makes sense of the confusion, and it reveals what God always intended for us to experience.
“And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.”
—1 Corinthians 13:13
“Great is our Lord, and abundant in power; his understanding is beyond measure.”
—Psalm 147:5
Closing Prayer
Heavenly Father, we admit how little we truly know. Yet we rejoice that You are all-knowing, all-wise, and ever-loving. Teach us to live out what is certain—Your love—and to share it freely with others. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Resting in Mystery
Holy God, my precious Lord,
Show me the wonder of how it all works. Reveal to me the reason behind all that is. Grant me understanding where mystery surrounds me. Open my eyes to the truth and let me perceive the connection of all things.
My Creator, I long to know how You formed it all. Yet I also know that my human mind cannot begin to grasp the fullness of Your universe. At times, the vastness overwhelms me. Even my imagination cannot stretch far enough to hold the greatness of Your creation.
Like a child begging a parent to fix a broken flower, I ask for answers I can understand. But Your power, Lord, is beyond comprehension—so great that it humbles and even frightens us. Truly, this is what it means to “fear the Lord.”
Precious God, speak not only to my mind but to my soul. My emotions wrestle to know, but my soul already rests in Your truth. Let my eternal being be my compass—content in Your presence, not reaching for what is beyond my grasp. It is Your work alone to hold creation together. Your calling is peace, love, and the eternal source of all goodness.
Help me to know—not just to believe—that You are here, that You are the truest reality. Let us walk through this world in our earthly form with reverence, needing no explanation, only resting in You.
“Be still, and know that I am God.” — Psalm 46:10
Amen.
The Same Song Beneath All Things
When Sir Jagadish Chandra Bose studied metals and plants, he discovered something profound. Plants responded to touch, light, and sound as though they had nerves of their own. Metals showed fatigue and recovery as if they were alive. To Bose, the line between life and lifelessness blurred. All matter — living or inanimate — seemed bound by the same laws, carrying the same pulse.
Modern science echoes this vision. In string theory, physicists propose that the entire universe — atoms, stars, living beings — is made of tiny vibrating strings. The same fabric, the same vibrations, create everything we see and everything we cannot.
Bose’s experiments and string theory’s mathematics whisper the same truth the Bible has declared all along: that God is the Creator of all things, and all creation bears His imprint.
“In Him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible… all things have been created through Him and for Him. He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together.” — Colossians 1:16–17
“The earth is the Lord’s, and everything in it, the world, and all who live in it.” — Psalm 24:1
“For from Him and through Him and for Him are all things. To Him be the glory forever! Amen.” — Romans 11:36
“Lord, You preserve both man and beast. How precious is Your steadfast love, O God!” — Psalm 36:6–7
Reflection
How often do we divide creation — into living and non-living, sacred and ordinary, human and nature? Yet Scripture, science, and spirituality remind us: all things flow from one Source.
Bose showed that plants and metals respond under stress as if they were kin.
String Theory suggests that all matter is music, vibrations of one great string.
Paramahansa Yogananda taught that all paths of truth, no matter the religion, lead back to the One.
The Bible has always proclaimed that in Christ “all things hold together” (Col. 1:17).
This is no accident. It is design. It is God.
God is not simply the Creator of humanity. He is the Creator of matter itself, of the rhythms beneath perception, of the galaxies unseen, of life in every hidden corner. What we call “different” — a stone, a tree, a star, a soul — is only a difference of form, not of origin.
When we truly see this, it changes everything. Suddenly the boundaries fade:
A tree is not just wood, but the breath of God made visible.
A stone is not just dead matter, but part of His eternal song.
The stranger across from me is not “other,” but one who shares the same divine imprint.
We are all, in the deepest sense, creatures of God — not only humanity, but the whole universe.
Closing Prayer
Creator of Heaven and Earth,
You are the Source of all things, seen and unseen, known and unknown. The stars, the soil, the breath in my lungs, the rhythm of life in plants and people — all are held together by Your Word. Teach me to live with reverence for every form, to see Your design in every vibration, to honor You in every creature and creation. Let me remember that all rivers of truth, whether through science, faith, or philosophy, lead back to You — the one eternal Source.
Amen.
God in our breath
There are times we think being with God requires effort — kneeling in prayer, finding the right words, or carving out sacred space. But what if His presence is already woven into every moment, requiring nothing but breath?
The divine name, Yahweh, is unlike any other. Spoken in Hebrew, it’s formed by sounds of pure breath — no lips, tongue, or jaw required. Some say it is less a word and more a sigh, a gentle exhale and inhale. In this way, the name of God is not bound to ritual or striving. It is uttered every second of our lives, even without our awareness.
The newborn’s first cry, the steady rhythm of breath in prayer, even the final breath of life — all whisper the name of God. His presence surrounds us, not because we work for it, but because He is in the very essence of our being.
“Then the Lord God formed man of dust from the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul.” — Genesis 2:7
We don’t need to chase Him down, or climb a ladder of effort to reach Him. He is as close as the rise and fall of our lungs.
“For in Him we live and move and have our being.” — Acts 17:28
Reflection
Pause right now. Breathe in… breathe out. With each breath, remember: you are speaking His name. God is not far from you. He is here, effortless and constant.
Closing Prayer
Lord, remind me that I don’t have to strive to be near You. You are the breath in my lungs, the life within me. Help me to rest in the truth that I am never apart from Your presence. May each breath draw me deeper into the awareness of Your love. Amen.
“It Won’t Make Sense, Until It Does”
I’m a proud member of Alcoholics Anonymous. To those on the outside looking in—especially those who have never given it a chance—the idea that a “simple 12-step program” could work seems impossible. All the science, psychology, psychiatry, even hypnotism and every other means of treatment often come up short in curing this insidious disease. Some argue it isn’t even a disease at all, but rather a lack of willpower or discipline.
Yet I have seen, with my own eyes, the impossible. People once written off as lost causes—addicts from broken homes, abusers, criminals, men and women who have done prison time, lived on the streets, raved in madness, and walked talking to themselves barefoot on the asphalt—become transformed. I would never trade places with where they started, but I cannot deny what they’ve become.
Like Eckhart Tolle describes, I’ve come to see the world on two planes. On one, we are fragile, temporary, flawed creatures—driven by ego, prone to riot, stumbling through life. On the other, we are eternal souls. That man on the corner, lost in madness, has the same eternal soul you and I do. Don’t be fooled by appearances: we are all children of God.
Our earthly minds cannot grasp why some stumble and others don’t. We cannot reason out suffering or map out salvation. What I do know is this: life itself is a calling, a returning, a transcending. Once we surrender to God—in thought, in faith, in trust—we realize all of this has purpose, even if our intellect cannot conceive it.
Addiction recovery proves this truth. No science, no practitioner, no medical formula can explain why one man rises from the ashes while another perishes. The answer lies only in what AA calls a “spiritual awakening.” That’s it. That’s the miracle.
“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!”
— 2 Corinthians 5:17
Closing Prayer
Heavenly Father,
Thank You for the miracle of transformation. Thank You that what the world calls impossible, You make possible. Remind me that every person I see—whether broken, struggling, or thriving—carries within them an eternal soul created by You. Lord, peel back the layers of my own ego and help me to walk in humility, grace, and gratitude for the gift of recovery. May my life reflect not my strength, but Your power, mercy, and love.
Amen.
“My God, My God, Why Have You Forsaken Me?”
When Jesus cried out on the cross, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46), He gave voice to the deepest human anguish. Those words have echoed through centuries, resonating with every broken heart that has felt abandoned by God in a moment of suffering.
I know this cry personally. When I was thirty years old, married but without children, I lost my father—a man I considered a saint. He was everything a father should be: loving, faithful, and kind. After a sudden stroke, he lingered on life support for thirteen long days. We had a glimpse of hope when he was transferred to rehab, but within a day he collapsed again and was rushed to the ICU.
I will never forget standing at his bedside. His chest rose and fell in violent, desperate attempts to breathe. The terror in his eyes as we locked gazes still haunts me. I was crushed. I slipped away to a tiny chapel in the hospital and fell to my knees, begging God for a miracle.
For nearly two weeks I had prayed for his earthly salvation—for healing, for recovery, for more time with the father I adored. But in that sacred moment, God shattered my expectations and shifted my prayer. A word was whispered into my heart: salvation. Suddenly I understood. My father didn’t need to be saved for a few more years here—he needed eternal salvation, the healing that never fades.
I returned to his side and leaned close to his ear. With nurses bustling around, I whispered, “Dad, Jesus is your Lord and Savior. Go with Him. We’ll be fine. It’s okay to go.” Within twenty-four hours, he slipped into eternity.
That moment changed me forever. God showed me that this life—with its joys and sorrows, its reunions and partings—is not the end goal. Earthly healing is temporary, but eternal salvation is permanent. My father’s passing became my awakening: salvation is not about clinging to what we have here, but about being reunited with the Creator for eternity.
When God Feels Silent
There are seasons when God feels absent, when tragedy doesn’t make sense, and when our prayers seem unanswered. But Christ’s cry on the cross reminds us we are not alone in that feeling. And His resurrection reminds us that God’s silence was not abandonment, but preparation for victory.
The Eternal Goal
Our troubles shape us. They break us open to see God more clearly. And even when we do not know the rhyme or reason, we can trust that the story is larger than our pain. The cross led to the empty tomb. Our grief points us toward eternity.
“He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”
—Revelation 21:4
Closing Prayer:
Father, when I walk through grief and when the weight of life feels unbearable, remind me that You are still near. Thank You for the gift of salvation that goes beyond this temporary life. Help me to trust not just in healing here on earth, but in the eternal promise of life with You. May my heart always rest in the hope of resurrection. Amen.
Lean Into God
How noisy is our mind, our world, our surroundings? Every day, something shouts for our attention—work, family, bills, stresses, and our own insecurities. What often commands our attention are the very things we cannot control. In truth, there is nothing in this physical world we truly have sovereignty over. These limitations, both physical and mental, stir up distress, and the noise of life only grows louder.
Years ago, it struck me that my world is much like a loud party—music blaring, people laughing and talking, a fever-pitched atmosphere that demands every ounce of attention. Each sound and distraction represents life’s stresses: work, bills, strained relationships. I imagine myself sitting on a couch next to God, yet I’m so distracted by the noise that I hardly hear Him. He is speaking, but the music is too loud. He whispers, and it becomes even harder to listen.
Then I realize: if I were truly at a crowded house party and God was whispering to me, I would have to lean in. I would need to block out the distractions, turn my ear toward Him, maybe even face Him closely enough to read His lips. To embrace Him. To focus only on Him.
That is what it means to lean into God. The world shouts, but God whispers. And to hear a whisper, we must be near. We must intentionally draw close. This requires setting aside time—sacred, quiet time—to be still with Him. In silence, we offer God our reverence. In stillness, we open space to hear His direction, His love, His comfort.
I believe God never stops communicating with us, no matter how noisy our world becomes. The question is whether we are close enough to listen. This world is temporary, a brief marker on the way to eternity. Our quiet devotion, our leaning in, is how we prepare our souls for what lasts forever.
“Be still, and know that I am God.” — Psalm 46:10
“After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper.” — 1 Kings 19:12
Reflection: How are you setting aside time to lean into God’s whisper today?
Closing Prayer
Lord,
In the middle of all the noise of this world—its demands, its stresses, its distractions—help me to lean into You. Quiet my restless heart so I may hear Your whisper. Draw me close enough to see You, to feel Your presence, and to trust Your guidance. Teach me to value the stillness as a sacred gift, where Your Spirit speaks louder than any shout. May I live not by the noise of the world but by the calm certainty of Your voice.
Amen.
“In the Depth of Solitude I Met the One Who Was Never Born”
“In the Depth of Solitude I Met the One Who Was Never Born”
Paramahansa Yogananda
There is a gift waiting in the stillness that so few of us unwrap. The world is loud, fast, and demanding. Yet, when I withdraw into solitude — into prayer and meditation — I encounter something eternal. Yogananda’s words remind us that beyond the body, beyond thought, beyond time itself, there is the soul: the one who was never born and will never die.
For me, prayer and meditation are not occasional practices; they are anchors. Twice a day, for 20 minutes each, I quiet my mind and open my spirit. Sometimes it’s as simple as sitting in silence, other times it’s offering words of gratitude or surrender. What always amazes me is how consistent time with God turns solitude into presence, silence into communion, and restlessness into peace.
Jesus himself modeled this rhythm, often withdrawing to lonely places to pray (Luke 5:16). In those moments, He reconnected with the Father, reminding us that spiritual renewal is not found in the noise but in the quiet. Meditation and prayer are not escapes from life but entrances into life at its deepest level.
“Be still, and know that I am God.” — Psalm 46:10
“When you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.” — Matthew 6:6
Just as we feed the body daily, so too must we nourish the soul. Setting aside two intentional times each day for prayer and meditation creates a rhythm of renewal. It’s less about perfect concentration and more about consistent presence. Over time, you realize you are not alone in solitude — you are meeting the eternal One.
Closing Prayer
Lord, thank You for the gift of prayer and meditation. In the stillness, help me to sense Your eternal presence, beyond thought, beyond worry, beyond time. Teach me to come back to You daily, to find strength in solitude and to rest in the One who was never born and will never die. Amen.
If It’s Up to Anyone, It’s Up to You
How often do we expect life, circumstances, or other people to “figure things out” for us? Deep down, we often hope some outside force will step in—a financial windfall, an inheritance, or someone close to us changing just enough to make our lives easier.
It’s human nature. From infancy, we were cared for, fed, and provided for. In adolescence, many of us still lived with bills paid, meals prepared, and shelter given. A part of us still longs for that ease—for someone else to carry the weight.
Even in small ways, I notice it in myself. When I type a word and can’t quite remember the spelling, I expect autocorrect to fix it. I rely on technology to cover for me instead of learning it properly. It’s a small example, but it mirrors a deeper truth: too often, we wait for others to do what we must take ownership of ourselves.
That’s why the phrase matters: If it’s up to anyone, it’s up to you.
In faith, this applies to our relationship with God as well. God is not a genie granting wishes or a caretaker who does everything for us. He is a partner who meets us in our effort. Scripture reminds us, “Faith without works is dead” (James 2:26). We can’t just wait for life to change—we must step forward in responsibility, in integrity, in courage.
God blesses our steps when we take them. Look for the opportunities He places in front of you. Don’t shirk responsibility. Don’t wait for someone else to live your life. Do the right things—not because they’re easy, but because they’re right. And as you do, you’ll find God walking alongside you, strengthening your efforts.
“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” — Philippians 4:13