Matthew 6:20-21
“But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where you treasure is, there you heart will be also.”
I have four hobbits living in my home. Yes, my children are closer to hobbits than they are to humans. Rather than 3 square meals a day, they require breakfast, elevensies, noonsies, lunch, supper, dinner…. And a few more food opportunities that I’m sure they would graciously remind me I’ve left out.
My 14-year-old son is the most peculiar of them all because getting him to eat a full meal is nye impossible—yet, give him a snack and he’ll scarf it down and ask for more. If I let him, his diet would consist of the major food group known as goldfish with a side of gummies and chewy granola bars.
With four kids in the house, these kinds of snacks don’t last long. They know that Mama only does a snack run once a month (after all, I do purchase them in bulk), and therefore, when the snack drawer is empty, it’s empty until the new month. This rule exists in our household to ensure that they ration their snacking tendencies—no one needs 5 bags of goldfish in one day. Yet, for a season, I kept finding the snack drawer empty long before the monthly restock.
Upon clever sleuthing on my part, I eventually found the reason. My snack-loving son had been hoarding a stash of his own. So desperate to have his beloved snacks not wasted on his sisters, he had been growing his secret stash under the pile of empty goldfish bags piled under his nightstand.
Unfortunately, his secret hoard turned into an all-you-can-eat buffet for every ant within a five-mile radius.
Oh, how we so carefully guard the things we truly treasure.
Matthew 6:20-21 reminds us to “lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where you treasure is, there you heart will be also.”
When Jesus gave this admonition, he wasn’t just speaking to those who hoarded piles of coins. He was also speaking to those who treasured the garments that displayed their social status—garments that, quite literally, could be eaten away by moths.
When we spend our time, energy, and creativity chasing treasures that fade—here one day and gone the next—it reveals a heart rooted in the temporal thrills of earthly living.
But Jesus calls us higher.
He calls us to treasure what can be stored in Heaven—what holds eternal value.
The glory of God.
The souls of man.
The joy of the Lord.
And heavenly rewards beyond anything our wildest dreams could imagine.
So, what does that mean for us while we live this temporary world?
It means seeking more than the momentary thrill—and choosing to live for eternal impact.
It means trusting God to supply every need and living with a generous heart.
It means investing in Kingdom work, even when the return isn’t immediately visible.
Because for all the effort my son put into building his secret snack stash, it was still lost to something as small as ants.
So, where’s your treasure?
Where’s your heart?
Is it focused on the things of God—or tangled up in the temporary?
Maybe it’s time to let go of the snack stash… and start preparing for the heavenly feast.
Because what you treasure shapes what you chase—and Heaven is worth the chase.
Luke 16:10 (ESV)
"One who is faithful in a very little is also faithful in much..."
Life can be glorious for a nine-year-old.
Days filled with make-believe battles, plushie alliances, and top-secret hideouts built from couch cushions and cracker crumbs. It's a beautiful chaos—blissful, imaginative, and only mildly hazardous to your feet.
But then… life can turn tragic for a nine-year-old.
Because just when the war between the unicorns and dinosaurs reaches its final showdown, in walks Mom with those four soul-crushing words:
"It's time to clean."
Suddenly, toys that were strategically positioned to defend the carpet fort must be disarmed and returned to their plastic bins. The glittery trail of kinetic sand—once a shimmering river of magic—now must be swept away like yesterday’s dreams.
And in that moment, wide eyes fill with the threat of tears, and a heart full of creativity morphs into one full of dramatic despair. “It’s too much,” they cry. “I’ll never survive this!”
Yet somehow—miraculously—the very child who melted into a heap of hopelessness over putting away three stuffed animals and a rogue sock… will immediately find the strength to ask for more.
More toys. More sand. More squishmallows that take up more square footage than actual furniture.
And so, the lesson begins again:
"How can I give you more, when you’re not being faithful with what you already have?"
It’s a lesson for the nine-year-old—and for us grown-ups too.
Luke 16:10 reminds us:
“Whoever is faithful with very little will also be faithful with much…”
The truth is, we’re not so different from the child with kinetic sand in her hair and a dream in her heart. God gives us talents, opportunities, and time. And what do we do? We look around at what others have and whisper, “If only I had more...”
More confidence.
More followers.
More resources.
More hours in the day that somehow don’t involve laundry.
But often, we’re surrounded by gifts we haven’t yet stewarded—dreams we haven’t dusted off, and talents we’ve buried under fear or procrastination (right next to that to-do list we swore we’d start last Tuesday).
Friend, the power of your gift is not in how big it is. It’s in who gave it.
If we can’t be faithful in the “small”—the late-night writing sessions, the awkward conversations with neighbors, the unpaid ministry moments—how can God trust us with more?
So here’s your gentle but firm “mom voice” for today:
Stop waiting for more.
Use what you’ve got.
Be faithful with what’s in your hands—even if it looks like two loaves, five fish, and a half-eaten granola bar.
Because with God, that’s more than enough.
And just like that nine-year-old’s kinetic sand, your faithfulness will find its way into the cracks and corners of lives you didn’t even realize you could reach.
And the best part?
You won’t even have to sweep it up.
Now that’s the kind of mess worth making.
2 Timothy 3:16 (ESV)
"All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness."
What a gift it is to hold in our hands the very breath of God.
The Bible isn’t just an ancient text or a religious artifact. It is a divine equipping tool—crafted by the Creator Himself—to guide, challenge, correct, and strengthen us. It isn’t out of date. It isn’t out of touch. And it certainly isn’t optional if we want to live lives rooted in truth and purpose.
God could have left us to figure life out on our own. But in His mercy, He gave us His Word. It is truth for every generation. A light for every dark place. And a weapon for every battle we face.
Whether we’re facing political pressure, cultural confusion, or personal hardship, His Word still holds. Still speaks. Still equips.
Need to stand firm for biblical values in New Mexico?
Look to Ephesians 6:13, where we're called to "put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground." It reminds us we are not powerless against legislation or ideologies that contradict God’s design. We are called—and equipped—to stand.
Navigating relationships?
Romans 12:18 gives us wisdom: “If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.” This challenges us to lay down our pride, pursue reconciliation, and let grace lead the way—even when it’s hard.
Wrestling with finances?
Philippians 4:19 reminds us: “And my God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus.” Scripture not only challenges our view of provision but anchors our trust in the ultimate Provider.
Raising kids in a chaotic world?
Deuteronomy 6:6-7 instructs: “These words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children…” God equips us with the priority of discipleship in the home—and the promise that His Word planted in their hearts will not return void.
Feeling weary in ministry?
Galatians 6:9 encourages us: “Let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.” This truth strengthens us to persevere, not because of applause, but because of eternal impact.
Every verse is an invitation to live differently. To think eternally. To walk boldly.
You are not ill-equipped for what lies ahead. You’ve been handed the ultimate manual by the Author of life Himself. Don’t let it gather dust. Open it. Meditate on it. Let it breathe fresh courage into your convictions, wisdom into your decisions, and truth into your daily living.
You’ve been equipped—now it’s time to live like it.
Refining Reflection:
John 3:30 – He must increase, but I must decrease.
Have you ever caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and thought,
“Wait… who even am I today?”
Maybe you’re wearing all the hats—mom, wife, friend, employee, leader—and somewhere in the shuffle, your true identity has gotten lost in the mix. It happens subtly. We start defining ourselves by what we do instead of who we are. We chase roles, perform for approval, or cling to labels—some given by others, some we’ve adopted ourselves.
But friend, that’s not where your identity lies.
Paul says in Galatians 2:20 that he no longer lives, but Christ lives in him. That’s the identity check we need to come back to again and again. Not what you’ve done. Not who you’ve disappointed. Not even who you’re striving to be. But who Jesus already says you are.
You’ve been crucified with Christ. That old you? The one weighed down by insecurity, shame, pressure, and fear? She’s not the one in charge anymore. Christ lives in you. That means your identity is secure, your worth is settled, and your purpose is established.
John the Baptist understood identity.
Not the kind the world tries to assign—the kind rooted in titles, popularity, or performance. He lived fully aware of who he was and why he was created. Even before his conception, when his mother Elizabeth was still barren, God declared that John would be born to prepare the way for the Lord(Luke 1:13–17).
John’s life was marked by that purpose.
He wasn’t just a fiery wilderness preacher or an eccentric outsider—he was the forerunner of Christ. And before Jesus ever stepped into public ministry, John had gained attention, respect, and a devoted following. It would’ve been easy to let that acclaim shape his sense of self. But John didn’t cling to applause or position.
When the moment came for Jesus to take center stage, John didn’t flinch. He didn’t compete. He didn’t compare.
He simply said: “He must increase, but I must decrease” (John 3:30).
That’s identity rooted in the divine design of the Creator.
John wasn’t defined by his platform. He was anchored in purpose.
And in a world where social media metrics, external approval, and cultural expectations constantly try to shape our worth, we need to remember John’s example.
We were never meant to find identity in followers or filters.
We were made to glorify God.
So when you stand in front of the mirror and feel uncertain—when the reflection looking back doesn’t feel like you—pause.
Strip away the labels, lies, and expectations.
And do an identity check.
You know your purpose: to glorify God.
You know who you are: loved, chosen, redeemed.
You know what to release: anything that clouds His reflection in you.
We’re not chasing perfection.
We’re not building our brand.
We are living testimonies of a glorious God—designed to decrease so His presence can increase in and through us.
That’s freedom.
That’s beauty.
That’s your identity.
Philippians 3:7–9
“But whatever were gains to me I now consider loss for the sake of Christ… not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ.”
Have you ever felt like your faith has turned into a to-do list?
Read the Bible. Go to church. Say the right thing. Do the right things…
Maybe, just maybe, we’ve settled for religion— when we were made for relationship.
This week, we’re pushing past the surface and diving into what it really means to live beyond religion—to trade checkboxes for connection, duty for devotion, and self-righteousness for saving grace.
I was blessed to grow up in a Christian home. I was taught the love of Jesus and the truth of His salvation from the time I was born. As a five-year-old, it felt natural to put my trust in Jesus, recognizing my sinful state and my need for His grace and mercy. From then on, I was sold-out for Jesus. Everything I did revolved around Him. Church attendance, Bible reading, memorizing verses at Awana—I did it all, and I loved it.
But then life shifted. I left home for college. I stepped out from under the safety of my parents' roof and into a world full of new questions and challenges. Suddenly, faith wasn’t just about habit—it had to be about conviction.
Growing up, checking the boxes had connected me to Jesus. But when life got hard—when sacrifice and surrender were required—I realized the boxes weren’t enough.
I needed more than routine. I needed depth.
I needed a relationship that could withstand life’s curveballs and speak to the quiet places in my soul where duty had replaced devotion, and performance had tried to take the place of grace.
Sure, knowledge of truth is there—that our righteousness is filthy and will never be enough to save us. But somehow we keep falling into a performance-based cycle. It comes slowly. We don’t recognize the shift, but before we know it, this performance cycle has hijacked our relationship mindset and planted us firmly in the middle of religion.
Friend, you were never meant to be planted in religion—you were meant to be rooted in relationship. If it was simply about religion, Jesus wouldn’t have come to fulfill the law and free us from the burden of never meeting up to it’s standards. He wouldn’t have given his life freely on a cross to pay a debt we could never pay. And his message to us wouldn’t have been focused on loving the Lord our God with all of our heart, soul, and mind (Matthew 22:37-38).
Yet, He came. He exemplified love. And He died for us. Why? Because you were never meant to be planted in religion. You were meant to live beyond it. Beyond the check boxes that will never satisfy. Beyond the duty that will never speak truth to your soul. Beyond the performance that will always falter.
We are called to walk in the absolute confidence of the Creator and the redemption of the Savior and turn this world upside down, just as Paul and Silas did (Acts 17:6).
The statement, “these men who have turned the world upside down…” was made by an angry mob in Thessalonica who opposed Paul and Silas's preaching. It was meant as an accusation—but what a powerful testimony! The gospel message they carried was so transformative, it disrupted the norms and shook entire cities.
We can’t do that if we are simply checking boxes.
All throughout Scripture, God shows us that His desire has always been personal, not procedural.
In Genesis, God pursued Adam and Eve even after their sin.
He made a covenant with Noah to protect us.
He made a covenant with Abraham to call us His own.
He made a covenant with Moses to provide for us.
He made a covenant with David to position us with purpose.
He made a covenant with us, through Jesus, to look beyond our inadequate performance and box-checking and redeem us.
This is your call to live beyond religion. To let go of whatever you have considered gain, knowing that you have no righteousness of your own, but that through faith in Christ you are free (Philippians 3:7-9). You are loved. You are cherished. You are desired. You are more than enough.
And you can turn this world upside down for the sake of Christ. You can disrupt the status-quo, you can ignite someone’s purpose, and you can sharpen your community because in this calling of world changer, you move and breath with the power of the God who has challenged the box-checkers with the truth of his relational call.
Don’t let the box-checking deprive you of connection with your Creator and Savior.
Read the bible to reveal his heart.
Go to church to grow in fellowship.
Do and say the right things because they are a natural extension and reflection of the one you are in relationship with.
Let go of the to-do list.
Leave behind religion that demands but never satisfies.
Step into grace, beauty, and peace of a Savior who wants your heart, not your checklist.
Move forward. Live beyond religion.
And in the power of that relationship— turn the world upside down.
Reflection Questions:
“Show proper respect to everyone, love the family of believers, fear God, honor the emperor.” – 1 Peter 2:17
As Americans, we celebrate the 4th of July as a symbol of liberty—freedom from tyranny and the birth of a nation built on unalienable rights. But for followers of Jesus, there is a deeper freedom we must recognize and defend: the freedom to choose Him.
From the very beginning, Jesus centered His ministry around invitation. He didn’t demand blind obedience; He extended a personal call: “Come, follow me.” Each of the disciples had to make a decision—to leave their nets, their jobs, their reputations, their former ways of life—and step into the unknown with Jesus. That decision wasn’t forced. It was freely made. And it changed everything.
Because they said yes, they experienced profound relationship—they walked with the Son of God, witnessed miracles, sat under divine teaching, and were transformed from fishermen and tax collectors into messengers of hope and pillars of the early Church.
The same blessing is available to all who choose Him. And that’s the key—it must be a choice. True relationship cannot be coerced. Jesus never created robots; He called disciples. And He still does.
That’s why we stand so firmly for religious freedom—not because we want to win a cultural war, but because we want to guard the sacred space where the Spirit of God invites hearts to respond. We don’t force the gospel. We live it. We reflect it. We extend the same invitation that Jesus gave us—because when someone says yes to Jesus, everything changes.
Consider the woman with the issue of blood (Mark 5:25–34). She chose to reach out in faith, believing He could heal her. Jesus could have let her remain anonymous, but He stopped, searched, and connected. He called her “daughter.” Her healing wasn’t transactional—it was relational. He gave her dignity. He gave her a new identity.
The same thing happens in us when we say yes to Him. It changes how we live, how we see the world, and how we love others. It reorders our priorities and renews our purpose. And it should also deepen our commitment to protect the freedom of others to make that choice for themselves.
Religious freedom must be protected not just so we can live in a way that honors the relationship we’ve said yes to—but so that others still have the chance to say yes as well.
This freedom matters. It matters because people matter. And because Jesus is still calling, still inviting, and still transforming hearts today.
Refining Reflection:
“He had to go through Samaria.”—John 4:4
Community can be one of the greatest blessings of faith—but too often, it becomes a source of stress and contention. It starts to feel like a popularity contest—either you’re in the click or you’re standing on the sidelines watching and wondering why you aren’t valued enough to be included. Community can be the place where unrealistic expectations grow wildly disproportionate, and judgement runs rampant. It becomes a pool of comparison, insecurity, and fractured relationships.
We become desperate for community to give us our identity and confirm our worth, and when it fails to meet our expectations, we are left disgruntled, rejected, and resentful.
We’ve gotten it all wrong.
We were never meant to sit with arms crossed, waiting for community to define us. We were made to shape community—with the compassion of invitation, the transformation of grace, and the eternal focus of Kingdom impact.
Jesus at the Well
There is something so tender and powerful about Jesus’ journey through Samaria. It wasn’t a geographical necessity or obligation; it was a divine appointment. He wasn’t just passing through; He was intentionally reaching for relationship.
This is the heart of community. He didn’t sit and wait to be approached. He went out of his way to extend an invitation that would change everything.
At Jacob’s well, weary from His travels, Jesus sat and waited for a woman whose life told a story of broken relationships, social rejection, and inner shame. She didn’t know it yet, but her moment of transformation was drawing near.
This is where koinonia—true, biblical community—takes root.
The Samaritan woman came to the well alone. Her mid-day appearance at the well, in the heat of the sun, outside of the usual customs, revealed her isolation and the shame she experienced daily. She was rejected by others, yet Jesus came just for her.
Before she ever sought Him, He came for her.
That’s community.
Not waiting to be invited, but extending the invitation.
Not requiring perfection, but meeting people in the pit.
Not contingent on expectations, but grounded in grace.
Jesus didn’t start with condemnation—He started with connection.
Jesus stepped outside the bounds of custom and culture and drew her into conversation—first about water, then about worship. He moved the conversation from surface needs to spiritual thirst because He was after more than a simple encounter with this woman—He was reaching for her heart—a concept so unfamiliar to this woman that at first, she didn’t get it. Her sarcastic responses revealed a heart stuck in pain and misunderstanding.
It is here where Jesus reveals to us what community is meant to do as He gently exposed her brokenness—not to shame her, but to set her free. He revealed the truth of her sin so she could receive the truth of grace.
Community is meant to do the same.
Koinonia doesn’t coddle sin—it confronts it, in love.
Not to accuse, but to transform.
Not to shame, but to lead toward the well of living water.
You see, Jesus’ goal wasn’t surface change. It was heart-level transformation. He was connecting with her in a way that would be meaningful to her in her brokenness, beautifully paving the way for the healing she desperately needed and the transformation that would flow from it. That’s what community is meant to do, yet so often we miss the point. We get focused on the wrong things and community, as Jesus taught it, is lost.
Just look at the disciples.
While Jesus was transforming a life, the disciples were simply picking up dinner. When they returned, they completely missed the miracle unfolding before them because they were so focused on the practical—food—but Jesus was focused on the eternal. They had lost sight of what community is meant to be about.
And so, Jesus gently redirected them to the real mission:
“My food is to do the will of Him who sent me…”(v.34).
That’s the call for every community of faith.
To stay focused on the Father’s business.
To be flexible for the sake of the Gospel.
To turn small encounters into Kingdom impact.
What began as a private conversation ended as a public revival. The woman left her water jar behind—along with her shame—and ran to tell others. She became the inviter. The community builder. The missionary.
Jesus has met each one of us at the well. He has invited us into relationship and spoken to the quiet places of our hearts—not to leave us waiting in the corner with arms crossed, but to empower us to rise as inviters, community builders, and agents of transformation.
Refining Reflection
Who in your life might be drawing water alone? Who needs you to be the one who asks first, invites first, shows up first?
Are you willing to engage in hard conversations with love and patience? Are you creating space for others to be transformed, not just tolerated?
Is your community centered on comfort or commission? How can you help shift your circle’s focus toward the Father’s business this week?
Scripture:
“Being justified freely by His grace through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus.”
—Romans 3:24 (NKJV)
They say there’s no such thing as a free lunch. And honestly? They’re right. Somewhere, somehow—someone always foots the bill.
I remember when the truth first started to sink in—not in a single, dramatic moment, but over years of striving and serving and silently wondering if I’d ever be enough.
Not because I didn’t believe God loved me...
But because somewhere along the way, I’d absorbed the lie that His love had to be proven.
So I worked.
I achieved.
I performed—especially in the places where people were watching.
And deep down, I thought grace was reserved for the girl who hadn’t fumbled her faith.
For the one who kept her prayers consistent and her past in check.
For the one who didn’t question whether she was called, or chosen, or just barely hanging on.
But that’s the thing about grace: it’s not earned.
It’s not behavior-based.
And it’s never out of reach.
Jesus paid for it in full—every last broken piece, every last shame-soaked secret, every ounce of your not-enough.
He bore the cost of your freedom so you could wear the name Redeemed.
And here’s where it gets personal:
This matters not just for your theology—it matters for your identity.
Because when you know salvation was bought for you—not earned by you—you stop hustling for approval.
You stop hiding your scars and hustling for likes.
You stop performing and start belonging.
Your crown isn’t earned. It’s placed.
Your worth isn’t measured. It’s declared.
So yes—salvation is free to you.
But it wasn’t cheap.
And that truth? It changes everything.
It changes how you walk into a room, how you face the mirror, and how you reach for the people around you.
Because when you know what it cost Him, you stop questioning if you’re worth it.
Refining Reflection:
✨Have you been trying to earn what Jesus already bought?
✨How would your life look different if you walked in the fullness of what’s already been paid for?
✨Who in your life needs to know the gift of salvation isn’t for the perfect—it’s for the willing?
Your freedom didn’t come with a price tag.
But the receipt is real.
It’s written in love, sealed in blood, and stamped across your soul:
Paid. In. Full.
Proverbs 20:7 (ESV) – “The righteous who walks in his integrity—blessed are his children after him.”
There I was—seven years old, laser-focused on the ball perched atop the tee. In my mind, I was the next worldwide phenomenon, the best tee-ball player to ever grace a backyard. I stared that ball down like it had insulted my mama—then swung like the bases were loaded and scouts were watchin’.
Swish. Strike one. Nothin’ but air.
It’s fine—I told myself—I was just testing the ball’s stability. All good.
Swish. Strike two. Huh. Not sure what happened there, but here we go—it’s about to get real.
Smack!
I felt the connection from my head to my toes... until I realized it wasn’t the ball I’d hit. That tee never saw it comin’. It wobbled, groaned, and then collapsed in a dramatic heap of bent plastic and backyard dust. The ball? It rolled a solid two inches from my feet like it was ashamed to be part of the whole ordeal.
My dreams of tee-ball glory shattered in an instant. Thankfully, the only person watching was Daddy. But oh, how badly I wanted to send that ball soaring—to make him proud.
Instead, I stood there embarrassed, blinking back tears, gripping a yellow plastic bat that had seen better days.
That’s when Daddy stepped in.
I couldn’t tell you what words he said that day. But I’ll never forget what my heart heard as he smiled, wrapped me in a big Daddy hug, and held me like I had just hit a grand slam.
He was already proud of me—not because of my tee-ball skills (or lack thereof), but simply because I was his.
My dad is a wise man. I’ve turned to him for godly counsel countless times. But the messages that have shaped me the most weren’t spoken—they were lived.
I watched his faith in action. I saw his character, his integrity, his quiet consistency when no one else was looking. And those actions have left a deeper imprint on my life than any lecture ever could.
I’ve heard it said that a legacy is what outlives you because of what God did through you. Not the eloquent words you spoke, but the message you lived.
And that’s what Proverbs 20:7 is all about.
When a father walks in integrity, he builds more than a reputation—he builds a legacy. One that blesses his children long after the last game is played and the bat is put away.
I may not have grown up to be a tee-ball legend, but I gained something far greater:
A blessing that can’t be measured in trophies, only in legacy—the kind my father has walked out faithfully, day by day.
I hate spiders—with all the passion the good Lord gave me. They are, without a doubt, the most terrifying creatures on God's green earth. I don't care if they're smaller than my pinky toe or bigger than my hand—I detest them all equally. And I don't want to hear otherwise. I'm firmly convinced they're all jumpers. You can tell me till kingdom come that a wolf spider can't leap from its dusty little corner web to the middle of the room where my reading chair sits, but I just know that furry little nightmare is gonna figure it out—and I'm the bait.
The moment I see a spider, it's game over.
Logic goes out the window faster than common sense at a shoe sale.
And suddenly, I'm convinced the entire arachnid army knows my name and has launched a coordinated attack.
When I see one, that's all I can think about. My thoughts spiral into every possible scenario where that eight-legged menace gets to me—maybe it crawls on my toe, maybe it skydives from the ceiling—I don't care. It's out to get me. My brain is hijacked, and the heebie-jeebies start doing the jitterbug up and down my spine. That dread creeps from my back to my stomach, and before I know it, I'm full-blown panicking over something that weighs less than a paperclip.
Eventually, I reach for the only defense I know—the shoe. But by the time I get back? That sneaky little terror has vanished into thin air... ready to haunt me another day.
And isn't that exactly how fear works?
It shows up uninvited, settles into the corners of our mind, and takes over.
Half the time, we're not even sure if it's still there, but it doesn't matter—our peace is gone, our focus shot, and all we can see is what might happen.
But here's the good news:
"You will keep in perfect peace all who trust in you, all whose thoughts are fixed on You." -Isaiah 26:3 (NLT)
When fear creeps in, peace stands guard.
When our thoughts start racing, God settles them.
And when anxiety's got more legs than we know how to chase down—God's perfect peace steps in and says, "I've got this."
So, next time fear tries to skitter across your soul like a midnight spider—don't grab the shoe.
Grab the Word.
Fix your eyes on the One who never flinches, never hides, and never takes His eyes off you.
How to Be Content in Any and Every Season
“I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation…” – Philippians 4:12
The kitchen smelled... wrong.
It was supposed to be taco night—something easy, something the whole family loves. But somewhere between juggling emails, settling sibling drama, and answering a phone call, I forgot the meat.
Burned.
Tortillas? Charred.
The smoke detector? Screaming.
And me? On the verge of tears.
I stood there surrounded by smoke and frustration, feeling the weight of the moment press hard. The guilt, the irritation, the mental spiral that whispers, “You’re failing at everything.”
I didn’t feel victorious. I didn’t feel spiritual. I felt defeated.
So, I did what had to be done: I pulled out the cereal. Not just one bowl—for all six of us. That night, “taco Tuesday” became “Cheerios Survival Night.”
And honestly? We laughed.
The kids were fine.
The world didn’t end.
That moment reminded me of Paul’s words in Philippians 4:12.
He wrote them not from a place of comfort, but from prison.
He didn’t have a stocked pantry or a Pinterest-perfect dinner.
And yet, he said:
“I’ve learned the secret of being content.”
What’s the secret?
Jesus.
Not performance.
Not perfection.
Not well-executed dinners or tidy homes or carefully planned days.
Just Jesus.
He is enough when dinner burns.
He is enough when I feel like I’m failing.
He is enough in the chaos, in the lack, in the imperfection.
Contentment isn’t circumstantial—it’s relational.
It comes from knowing that even in the smoke and the stress, Jesus is present.
He’s not asking for perfection.
He’s offering peace.
So the next time everything goes wrong and you’re serving cereal instead of tacos—remember this:
Jesus is still enough.
And you are still held.
We Have Been Transformed by His Grace
“God made Him who knew no sin to be sin for us, so that in Him we might become the righteousness of God.” – 2 Corinthians 5:21
Emma was determined to help with laundry that day. At just six years old, she had seen Mom do it a hundred times. How hard could it be?
She grabbed her favorite lavender-scente
We Have Been Transformed by His Grace
“God made Him who knew no sin to be sin for us, so that in Him we might become the righteousness of God.” – 2 Corinthians 5:21
Emma was determined to help with laundry that day. At just six years old, she had seen Mom do it a hundred times. How hard could it be?
She grabbed her favorite lavender-scented detergent (a little too much of it), tossed in what looked like enough clothes to fill the machine, and proudly hit “start.” She even added a scoop of flour because she thought it looked like baking soda—and hey, Mom used that for cleaning once.
Ten minutes later, a mountain of bubbles was erupting from the machine like a sudsy volcano. The floor was soaked. The towels were a wreck. And smack in the middle of the chaos was Emma, completely soaked and completely overwhelmed.
By the time Mom rushed in, Emma burst into tears:
“I ruined everything!”
But Mom didn’t yell. She smiled, turned off the machine, scooped up her little girl, and said something Emma didn’t expect:
“It’s okay. You’re not in trouble. We’ll fix this together.”
And they did.
They cleaned up the floor. They ran the load again—this time without flour. And at the end of it all, the towels were cleaner than ever.
That’s a picture of grace.
We came to Jesus thinking we could handle things ourselves. We made a mess—maybe not of laundry, but of our hearts, our relationships, our lives. And just when we thought it was too far gone, that we had ruined everything...
Jesus stepped in.
But He didn’t just fix it.
He became the mess.
He took on our sin—not just around us, not just beside us—but as us.
“God made Him who knew no sin to be sin for us…”
Why?
“…so that in Him we might become the righteousness of God.”
That’s not just mercy. That’s transformation.
He didn’t just clean you up—He made you brand new.
He didn’t just restore what was lost—He gave you something better: His righteousness.
Emma’s story may be about bubbles and towels.
But ours?
It’s about blood and grace.
About a Savior who saw the mess and still came close.
Who saw your brokenness and called you beloved.
Who traded your ruin for His righteousness.
That’s grace. That’s transformation.
“And He is before all things, and by Him all things consist.” – Colossians 1:17
As I continue to stand firm in my faith, fight for biblical values in New Mexico, write books, and teach God’s Word, I often get asked the same question:
Why?
Why do you keep going when it’s so hard? Why do you keep doing it all when the enemy seems so loud, so
“And He is before all things, and by Him all things consist.” – Colossians 1:17
As I continue to stand firm in my faith, fight for biblical values in New Mexico, write books, and teach God’s Word, I often get asked the same question:
Why?
Why do you keep going when it’s so hard? Why do you keep doing it all when the enemy seems so loud, so dominant, so relentless?
My answer is simple:
Because Jesus is more than a man.
He pulled me from a pit and crowned me with His steadfast love and tender mercies. He calls me His own. He gives me purpose. He walks with me daily and has gifted me the ability to thrive—not because of ideal circumstances, but in spite of them.
He has forgiven me, adopted me, and positioned me within His family—not as a distant servant but as a beloved daughter.
And yet—this same Jesus who is personally invested in my every step is also the One who is before all things.
The One who holds the universe together by His power.
The One who existed before time, reigns outside of it, and sustains every atom within it.
Think about that.
The eternal, sovereign King who commands galaxies is also the gentle Shepherd who notices you, redeems you, walks with you, and calls you by name.
When you consider that…
The real question isn’t “Why do you keep doing all this?”
It’s “Why wouldn’t I?”
Why wouldn’t I give my whole life—my voice, my energy, my calling, my time—to honor the One who gave everything to pull me from the pit?
If He is truly before all things, and by Him all things consist—
then He is more than worthy of all things I have to offer.
So today, let your heart be stirred by the truth:
Jesus is not just a good teacher, a moral example, or a religious figure.
He is the Maker and Sustainer of it all.
He is King of Kings.
He is Lord of Lords.
He is more than a man.
And because of that, I will keep going.
I will keep fighting.
I will keep building.
All for His glory.
“Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her.” – Proverbs 31:28 (ESV)
“As one whom his mother comforts, so I will comfort you…” – Isaiah 66:13 (ESV)
There’s something sacred about a mother’s presence.
It’s in the way she remembers where everything is. The way she sacrifices sleep to soothe a fevered fore
“Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her.” – Proverbs 31:28 (ESV)
“As one whom his mother comforts, so I will comfort you…” – Isaiah 66:13 (ESV)
There’s something sacred about a mother’s presence.
It’s in the way she remembers where everything is. The way she sacrifices sleep to soothe a fevered forehead. The way she celebrates every little victory and still prays through every struggle. The way she carries not just the weight of her own world, but often that of her entire family.
Proverbs 31:28 paints a beautiful picture: children rising up—not just in age, but in honor—to bless their mother. A husband who doesn’t just appreciate her in private, but praises her. A home that is thriving because of the quiet strength and steady heart of a woman who fears the Lord.
This verse isn’t about perfection. It’s about impact.
A virtuous mother—whether biological, adoptive, spiritual, or someone who has stepped in to nurture and guide—leaves a legacy that lingers long after the noise of the day has faded. She is the one who plants seeds of faith, waters them with prayer, and trusts God to bring the growth.
A Comfort That Reflects Heaven
In Isaiah 66:13, God gives us an astonishing glimpse into His nature: “As one whom his mother comforts, so I will comfort you.”
Think about that. The God of the universe likens His own tender, compassionate care to that of a mother.
It’s that gentle hand on your back when the world feels like too much.
It’s the reassuring whisper in the dark when fear has crept in.
It’s the calm in chaos. The warmth in winter. The arms that wrap around you when words fail.
God knew the human heart needed an example of His comfort that we could understand. So He gave us mothers.
For the Mothers
To every mother reading this—whether you’re holding little ones, navigating teenagers, praying for adult children, or carrying grief for a child or a dream you’ve lost—you are seen.
Your labor in love is not in vain.
Your quiet prayers are not unheard.
Your daily sacrifices are shaping eternity.
Even when the laundry is piled high and the thank-you’s are few, know this: God calls your work holy. And one day, your children will rise up and say what Heaven already knows—you are blessed.
For All of Us
Today, whether you’re a mom or not, take a moment to reflect:
Because the legacy of love and faith doesn’t belong to mothers alone. It belongs to every person who chooses to live with intention, speak life into their home, and let God’s heart be reflected through their own.
Let’s Pray:
Lord, thank You for the gift of mothers. For their selfless love, for their fierce faith, and for the comfort they bring. Help us to honor them well—not just today, but every day. And for every mother reading this, strengthen her heart. Remind her that You see her, walk with her, and bless every seed she sows. Let all of us be people who build our homes with grace, and may our lives echo Your love to the ones You’ve entrusted to us. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Challenge for Today:
Reach out to the mother figure in your life—your mom, grandma, mentor, or spiritual mother—and thank her specifically for the impact she’s had on you. Speak the words that Proverbs 31 promises:
“You are blessed.”
“Through Jesus, therefore, let us continually offer to God a sacrifice of praise—the fruit of lips that openly profess His name.”– Hebrews 13:15 (ESV)
I remember the day I found the perfect pair of jeans. Ladies—you know the ones. The fit was just right, the pockets were magic, and they somehow made me feel like I could conquer the world.
“Through Jesus, therefore, let us continually offer to God a sacrifice of praise—the fruit of lips that openly profess His name.”– Hebrews 13:15 (ESV)
I remember the day I found the perfect pair of jeans. Ladies—you know the ones. The fit was just right, the pockets were magic, and they somehow made me feel like I could conquer the world. I didn’t just buy them… I raved about them.
To friends.
To strangers.
To the poor cashier who rang them up and got a 10-minute monologue about their life-changing potential.
I told everyone because I was so excited. I wanted others to experience the same joy I had.
So Why Are We Quiet About Jesus?
It’s funny how easily we talk about a good meal, a new show, or—yes—even denim. But when it comes to the One who saved our souls, gave us hope, and turned our mess into a message… we sometimes fall silent.
Hebrews 13:15 calls it “the fruit of lips that openly profess His name.”
In other words, praise that’s heard. Testimony that’s told. Joy that refuses to stay hidden.
And it’s not based on how we feel—it’s a continual sacrifice of praise, because our story isn’t just about what we’ve come through… it’s about Who brought us through.
A Sacrifice of Praise
Sometimes it’s easy to praise. Other times, it feels costly.
It’s hard to praise in the waiting, in the suffering, or in the uncertainty. But that’s what makes it a sacrifice. When we choose to speak the name of Jesus—even when it’s tough—that’s when our praise becomes powerful.
And guess what? Joy is contagious.
When you share what Jesus has done, others lean in.
When you testify, walls break down.
When you boldly profess His name, darkness loses ground.
You’re not just recounting a moment—you’re spreading hope.
Your Story is Someone Else’s Spark
You don’t have to have it all together to share Jesus. You just have to be honest.
Tell people how He brought you peace in the chaos.
Tell them how He gave you purpose when you felt lost.
Tell them how His grace picked you up, again and again.
You never know who’s listening.
You never know who’s waiting to hear that God still moves.
And here's the best part—every time you tell your story, you’re reminded again of just how faithful He’s been. That’s the kind of joy that multiplies.
Let’s Pray:
Jesus, thank You for giving me a story worth telling. Fill me with boldness to speak Your name and joy to share what You’ve done. Let my lips be full of praise—not just on Sundays, but every day. Use my words to bring light, and remind me that there’s power in my testimony. In Your name, Amen.
Challenge for Today:
Tell one person what Jesus has done for you—big or small. Watch how joy grows when you speak His name!
“For our sake He made Him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in Him we might become the righteousness of God.” – 2 Corinthians 5:21
Let me tell you a story about a couch. Yes—a couch.
Years ago, I inherited this beige, once-beautiful couch from a family member. When it arrived at my house, it had seen better days. There were mystery stains
“For our sake He made Him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in Him we might become the righteousness of God.” – 2 Corinthians 5:21
Let me tell you a story about a couch. Yes—a couch.
Years ago, I inherited this beige, once-beautiful couch from a family member. When it arrived at my house, it had seen better days. There were mystery stains, a tear in the armrest, and an odor I couldn’t quite identify (and frankly, didn’t want to). But hey—it was free, and I was convinced I could transform it.
So I got to work. I scrubbed. I patched. I sprayed more Febreze than human lungs should be exposed to. And when I was done… well, let’s just say it was “better.” But no matter what I did, it still carried traces of what it used to be.
That’s when I finally gave in and called a professional.
And wouldn’t you know it—when someone who actually knew what they were doing stepped in, the couch was completely transformed. It looked brand new. The stains? Gone. The odor? Nonexistent. That couch had a second life I never thought possible.
That’s the Gospel in a Couch
You and I—we are that couch.
We tried to clean ourselves up. Tried to patch the broken places and hide the stains. We tried really hard to look “better,” but no amount of self-effort could make us new.
Then Jesus stepped in.
And He didn’t just fix us up—He became the very thing that broke us.
He who knew no sin became sin for us—every stain, every scar, every shameful thing. He took it all upon Himself on the cross.
Why?
So that in Him, we might become the righteousness of God.
Read that again. Become the righteousness of God.
Not just forgiven, but transformed.
Not just patched up, but made new.
Not just covered, but clean.
The Power of a Divine Exchange
This verse in 2 Corinthians isn’t just theology—it’s a holy trade.
Jesus didn’t just pay your debt—He gave you His credit.
He didn’t just die in your place—He gave you His position.
He didn’t just erase your wrongs—He handed you His righteousness.
That means when the Father looks at you, He doesn’t see the stain.
He sees His Son.
The Hope in Transformation
Maybe you’ve been living like you’re still the same old couch. Trying harder. Wallowing in regret. Afraid you’ll always carry the smell of your past.
But friend, grace doesn’t just forgive—it transforms. You are not who you were.
Yes, you may remember who you used to be.
Yes, the enemy may try to remind you.
But grace shouts louder:
“You are made new in Christ.”
Let’s Pray:
Jesus, thank You for becoming what I could never fix. Thank You for taking my sin and giving me Your righteousness. Help me to walk like someone who has been transformed by grace—not striving for approval, but resting in Your finished work. Make me bold in this new identity, and remind me that I am no longer defined by who I was, but by who You are in me. Amen.
Remember:
You are not a project in progress—you are a masterpiece in motion, made new by the grace of God.
“But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going before you to Galilee. There you will see him, just as he told you.” – Mark 16:7 (ESV)
Peter was always the bold one.
He was the first to step out of the boat. The first to declare, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” The one who confidently proclaimed, “Even if all fall a
“But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going before you to Galilee. There you will see him, just as he told you.” – Mark 16:7 (ESV)
Peter was always the bold one.
He was the first to step out of the boat. The first to declare, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” The one who confidently proclaimed, “Even if all fall away, I will not.” He meant every word.
But in the pressure of the courtyard, with the flicker of firelight revealing his face, his courage crumbled. Once. Twice. Three times.
“I do not know this man of whom you speak.”
And the rooster crowed.
Can you imagine the weight that moment must have carried? The sting of regret. The shame of broken promises. The crushing reality that when Jesus needed him most, Peter failed. And failed big.
When Jesus was taken to the cross, Peter wasn’t at His side. He wasn’t standing in loyalty. He was lost in the shadows of guilt, replaying every denial.
So when the women showed up at the tomb and found it empty, an angel delivered this life-changing message:
“Go, tell his disciples… and Peter.”
Those two words—“and Peter”—changed everything.
Jesus didn’t just rise to prove His power. He rose to restore His people. And in the middle of that glorious victory, He made sure the one who felt disqualified, ashamed, and forgotten knew he was still seen.
Still wanted.
Still included.
Still loved.
Through Peter’s Eyes
Can you feel the rush of emotion Peter must have felt when he heard that?
He had to wonder, “Me? After what I did? He still wants me?”
Yes, Peter. Especially you.
Because the resurrection isn’t just about defeating death—it’s about restoring hearts. It’s about the God who doesn’t just forgive, but seeks out the broken to bring them back in.
Peter’s story didn’t end with his failure. In fact, it was just the beginning.
Jesus Restores What Shame Tries to Destroy
Later, Jesus would meet Peter on the shore. Over a morning fire, similar to the one where Peter had once denied Him, Jesus gave Peter three opportunities to say what his heart had always wanted to: “Lord, You know that I love You.”
Jesus didn’t rub in his failure. He rewrote the ending.
He commissioned Peter. Empowered him. And used the same man who once crumbled in fear to become the rock on which the early Church would be built.
That’s what resurrection power does—it takes what shame tried to destroy and turns it into testimony.
And You.
Maybe you’ve had Peter moments. You loved Jesus, but you’ve denied Him with your decisions. You’ve made promises you didn’t keep. Maybe you feel like you’re disqualified, distant, or disheartened.
Hear these words as if they’re just for you:
“…and you.”
Jesus sees you. He’s not avoiding your failures—He’s walking right into the middle of them with open arms. Your brokenness doesn’t scare Him. Your regret isn’t too much for Him.
The empty tomb means your story isn’t over.
Let Peter’s story remind you: Jesus is a Redeemer, not just a Rescuer. He doesn't just save us from sin—He restores us to Himself.
This Easter, don’t just celebrate a risen Savior. Respond to a personal one. One who calls you by name, even when you’ve failed. Especially when you’ve failed.
Because grace doesn’t overlook us—it looks right at us and says,
“Come. I’m not done with you yet.”
Jesus, thank You that You don’t define me by my worst moment. Thank You that You rose not just to conquer death, but to call me back into relationship with You. Help me believe, like Peter, that grace still finds me—especially when I feel unworthy. I surrender my shame, my regret, and my past, and I walk forward in the hope of Your resurrection. Amen.
“Look, today I am giving you the choice between a blessing and a curse.” — Deuteronomy 11:26 (NLT)
God is a God of invitation, not imposition. He doesn’t twist our arms or force our steps. Instead, He calls us into relationship—into obedience, into blessing—through the beautiful gift of free will.
This verse from Deuteronomy is a powerful
“Look, today I am giving you the choice between a blessing and a curse.” — Deuteronomy 11:26 (NLT)
God is a God of invitation, not imposition. He doesn’t twist our arms or force our steps. Instead, He calls us into relationship—into obedience, into blessing—through the beautiful gift of free will.
This verse from Deuteronomy is a powerful reminder that every single day, we have a choice. We get to decide who or what leads us—whether we’ll follow God’s voice or the pull of our own desires. The choice is deeply personal, yet incredibly significant. It's not just about right or wrong—it’s about life or death, blessing or curse.
God doesn’t promise that choosing Him will always be easy—but He promises it will always be worth it. Walking in obedience opens the door to the blessings He’s prepared for us—not just material provision, but the deeper things our souls crave: peace, purpose, identity, and joy that can't be shaken.
And let’s be real: some days, choosing God isn’t the easy choice. It means dying to our own plans, trusting Him when we don’t understand, and taking the narrow road when everyone else is sprinting down the wide one. But the beauty is—He walks with us on that road. He strengthens us. He blesses us.
So today—pause. Take a breath. Ask yourself:
What am I choosing?
Am I choosing fear, or faith?
Control, or surrender?
Convenience, or obedience?
The blessing is not out of reach. It’s already been made available. But it starts with a choice.
Father, thank You for giving me the freedom to choose. Help me to use that freedom wisely—to choose life, to choose Your way, and to walk in the blessings You’ve already set aside for me. Strengthen me when it’s hard, remind me when I forget, and lead me in the path that brings You glory. In Jesus’ name, amen.
“I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth.” – 3 John 1:4 (NIV)
There’s a joy unlike any other that fills the heart of a parent, mentor, or spiritual guide. It’s not the kind of joy that comes from medals won or grades earned. It’s deeper. It’s quieter. It’s sacred. It’s the kind of joy that wells up whe
“I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth.” – 3 John 1:4 (NIV)
There’s a joy unlike any other that fills the heart of a parent, mentor, or spiritual guide. It’s not the kind of joy that comes from medals won or grades earned. It’s deeper. It’s quieter. It’s sacred. It’s the kind of joy that wells up when we see someone we’ve invested in choose Jesus—and keep choosing Him.
When our children—or those we've nurtured and walked alongside—anchor themselves in truth, it becomes a powerful testimony. Not just of their decision, but of God’s faithfulness through generations. It’s in these moments we realize: this is what we’ve been praying for, laboring for, hoping for.
But this verse from 3 John isn’t just a beautiful sentiment. It’s a calling.
It reminds us that the seeds we sow in love, in truth, and in prayer truly matter. Every bedtime story laced with Scripture, every car ride conversation about Jesus, every moment we stop to pray over them instead of worry—it all matters. And often, it bears fruit in quiet, unseen ways before it blooms in the visible.
Maybe you're in a season where your child, or someone you love, is far from truth right now. Maybe you're still sowing, still watering, still waiting. Be encouraged: Heaven sees. And His Word does not return void.
Whether you’re a parent, a mentor, a teacher, or a faithful friend—keep planting. Keep speaking life. Keep pointing toward Jesus. Because one day, that seed may turn into a testimony. And there is no greater joy than knowing the next generation is walking in the truth.
Lord, thank You for the incredible gift of those You’ve placed in our lives to lead, love, and nurture. Give us the strength to keep planting seeds of truth, even when we don’t see the harvest yet. And when we do, may we give You all the glory. We trust in Your timing, and we rejoice in the truth. Amen.
My sweet aunt told me something long ago that I will never forget. She said, “Don’t doubt in the darkness what you knew in the light.” That phrase has been a powerful reminder through many seasons of my life because, without fail, we all experience seasons of change.
During mountaintop experiences, the light shines brighter than ever. God'
My sweet aunt told me something long ago that I will never forget. She said, “Don’t doubt in the darkness what you knew in the light.” That phrase has been a powerful reminder through many seasons of my life because, without fail, we all experience seasons of change.
During mountaintop experiences, the light shines brighter than ever. God's character is clear, and His purpose is great! It overwhelms our souls with indescribable joy. We feel closer to Him, experience His majesty more abundantly, and trust Him completely.
But in the valleys of life, the light seems further away as darkness clouds our vision and understanding. We feel distant from our Father and burdened by our circumstances. Doubt sets in, making us wonder if we will ever experience the mountaintop again.
Be encouraged. Psalm 77 walks us through the emotions of a valley-stranded perspective, leading us to hope by remembering what was known in the light.
Psalm 77:11 – “I will remember the deeds of the Lord; I will remember your miracles of long ago.”
Refusing to doubt in the darkness what you knew in the light shifts your perspective from the valley to the victory. The valley doesn’t have to feel dark because God's character remains the same, and His purpose is still great.
Wherever you find yourself today, remember the deeds of the Lord and take joy in knowing that what He has done before, He can do again to complete His perfect purpose.
#RememberHisGoodness #GodIsStillWorking #Psalm7711 #HopeInTheValley #HeDidItBefore #SeasonsOfFaith #MountainTopMoments #LightInTheDarkness #GodsPurposePrevails #FaithOverDoubt
I listened intently as my emotional eight-year-old daughter tearfully explained how her favorite doll had broken.
Her crocodile tears rolled endlessly as I watched her cycle through grief—denial: "Mommy can fix it"; anger: "Why did this happen?!"; bargaining: "Maybe glue will work?"; depression: “it will never be the same”; and finally,
I listened intently as my emotional eight-year-old daughter tearfully explained how her favorite doll had broken.
Her crocodile tears rolled endlessly as I watched her cycle through grief—denial: "Mommy can fix it"; anger: "Why did this happen?!"; bargaining: "Maybe glue will work?"; depression: “it will never be the same”; and finally, acceptance. Her heart was broken, and she couldn’t imagine playing without it.
Her tears fell with renewed vigor.
Can you relate to the grief of unmet expectations and painful realities?
Take courage, friends. Philippians 3:20 reminds us, “But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.”
Heartache and loss are inevitable, but our hope is in Christ, not our circumstances. He redeems past regrets, carries us through present sorrow, and calms future anxieties. His hope will not disappoint.
This is why we press on. The world’s fleeting treasures pale in comparison to what awaits us in eternity. This world is not our home; we are just passing through. Keep your heart fixed on the One who has redeemed you. He will lead, provide, and comfort you, no matter the trials you face.
Ever run a race and felt like giving up halfway? The finish line seems so far, your legs feel like jelly, and you wonder, Why did I even start this? 😩
Life—especially as a believer—can feel the same way. The world is dark, evil seems to be winning, and doing the right thing can feel exhausting. You pray, serve, stand for truth, but it see
Ever run a race and felt like giving up halfway? The finish line seems so far, your legs feel like jelly, and you wonder, Why did I even start this? 😩
Life—especially as a believer—can feel the same way. The world is dark, evil seems to be winning, and doing the right thing can feel exhausting. You pray, serve, stand for truth, but it seems like nothing is changing. You wonder, Am I even making a difference?
Galatians 6:9 reminds us: “Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” 🌾✨
Even when you can’t see it, God is working! Your faithfulness is planting seeds that He will grow in ways you never expected. His plan is so much bigger than what we can comprehend! 🌱💛
We have a hope the world doesn’t have! A lightthat never goes out! A victory that’s already won! So keep running, keep believing, and keep shining—because the harvest is coming, and it’s worth every step!
#KeepTheFaith #DontGiveUp #Galatians69 #RunWithEndurance #LightInTheDarkness #HopeInChrist #GodIsWorking
Ever tried a three-legged race? If you and your partner aren’t moving in sync, it’s a recipe for tripping, falling, and frustration (and let’s be honest, some serious laughs for everyone watching).
Jesus reminds us in Mark 3:24—"If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand."
In other words, when believers are pulling
Ever tried a three-legged race? If you and your partner aren’t moving in sync, it’s a recipe for tripping, falling, and frustration (and let’s be honest, some serious laughs for everyone watching).
Jesus reminds us in Mark 3:24—"If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand."
In other words, when believers are pulling in different directions, we stumble instead of stride forward.
Right now, in the current legislative session, decisions are being made that impact faith, family, and freedom.
As believers, we can’t afford to be out of sync. We must stand together for biblical values, praying, speaking up,
and moving as one body in Christ. If we’re divided, we’ll fall—but united, we can make a difference!
Let’s tie our hearts to Christ, sync our steps in truth, and run this race together.
Because when we move as one, nothing can stop us!
#TeamJesus #RunTogether #KingdomUnity #Mark324 #StandForTruth #FaithInAction
Loving our families? That’s usually the easy part. Sure, they can drive us up the wall sometimes, but at the end of the day, they’re the people we naturally pour our love into—and the ones who love us back. But what about when love isn’t easy? When it isn’t reciprocated, appreciated, or maybe even wanted?
See, it’s tempting to make love ab
Loving our families? That’s usually the easy part. Sure, they can drive us up the wall sometimes, but at the end of the day, they’re the people we naturally pour our love into—and the ones who love us back. But what about when love isn’t easy? When it isn’t reciprocated, appreciated, or maybe even wanted?
See, it’s tempting to make love about us—about how we feel, how we’re treated, or whether someone "deserves" it. But Jesus flips the script. He calls us to love because of Him, not because of them. It’s not about asking if someone is “worthy” of our love; it’s about recognizing that they are already worthy of His love. And if Jesus saw them as worth dying for, who are we to withhold kindness, grace, or compassion?
So how do we know they’re worth it? Because God so loved the world—no conditions, no exclusions, no filters. This Valentine’s Day, let’s love like that. Let’s love in a way that points to Jesus. Find that person who’s hard to love and show them grace anyway. Not because they’ve earned it, but because He’s given it freely.
#NoFilterLove
How we face our trial is heavily dependent on how we see ourselves.
When we first meet Gideon in Judges 6, he’s hiding from his enemy. He’s afraid, oppressed, and cowering in a winepress doing a job that should have been done out in the open. It's no wonder Gideon is hiding in fear, when you consider how Gideon saw himself; forsaken, a vi
How we face our trial is heavily dependent on how we see ourselves.
When we first meet Gideon in Judges 6, he’s hiding from his enemy. He’s afraid, oppressed, and cowering in a winepress doing a job that should have been done out in the open. It's no wonder Gideon is hiding in fear, when you consider how Gideon saw himself; forsaken, a victim, coming from the least important family, being the least important son. Without knowing it, Gideon had put himself in a box that severely limited how he faced his trial.
But when the Angel of the Lord showed up to call him into action he said something that completely changed the course of Gideon’s story.
“You mighty man of Valor!”
I can just imagine Gideon looking around him to see who the Lord could have been talking to because surely, it wasn’t him. But the Lord was talking to Gideon. He was yanking him out of the dark corner he was hiding in and painting a new picture of Gideon that this forsaken, unimportant victim had never considered possible.
As the Lord revealed this new identity to Gideon and entrusted an unimaginable mission to him, Gideon was fearful. But God, in His goodness and compassion, made it clear that Gideon would not find it within his own strength to be this mighty man of valor. No, Gideon in his own strength wouldn't even be able to move his trembling hands and feet out of that winepress. But Gideon wasn't supposed to do it within his own strength. As he met with the Lord that day, the Lord made it abundantly clear that He, Gideon's Creator, King, and Mighty God would give him exactly what he needed exactly when he needed it. The only thing Gideon had to do was choose to trust that this vision God had of him was who he was truly meant to be, stepping out in faith to live it out and complete his mission.
Our current trial...
Politics is often an area that people of faith like to stay out of. But God’s word admonishes us to do the opposite. When Micah summarized God’s law into these three points, he helped us understand the truth of what an Almighty God truly desires from his people.
Do Justice: God’s word gives us a clear understanding of what Justice is. H
Politics is often an area that people of faith like to stay out of. But God’s word admonishes us to do the opposite. When Micah summarized God’s law into these three points, he helped us understand the truth of what an Almighty God truly desires from his people.
Do Justice: God’s word gives us a clear understanding of what Justice is. How can we expect those who do not know Him to establish Justice that honors Him? We must engage for the sake of shaping justice that comes from God’s word.
Love Kindness: It is not our place to scream hateful messages to those who do not understand the Justice we stand for, but rather to extend compassion and kindness so that they may see our actions and our love. This allows our message of hope and biblical values to stand out in the crowd and have opportunity to take root and bear fruit.
Walk Humbly with your God: As Christians, we cannot engage in anything without first walking with the Lord. This ensures we are tuned in to his heart, his desires, and his principles. It drives us and guides our steps as we engage in a dark world with the light of Jesus – Yes, even in Politics.
We are his people, called to do justice, love kindness, and to walk humbly with our God not just in the arenas we like or feel comfortable in, but in all we do on this earth.
Prayer is a direct line to the heart of God, a powerful gift that allows believers to seek His wisdom, peace, and intervention in every circumstance. It is not just a request but a relationship—an opportunity to align our hearts with His will and witness His power at work in our lives.
We are called to pray with confidence—“believe that
Prayer is a direct line to the heart of God, a powerful gift that allows believers to seek His wisdom, peace, and intervention in every circumstance. It is not just a request but a relationship—an opportunity to align our hearts with His will and witness His power at work in our lives.
We are called to pray with confidence—“believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.” This isn’t about wishful thinking but trusting that God is at work, even when we don’t see immediate results. Faith means praying as if the answer is already on its way because we trust God’s perfect wisdom and timing.
As New Mexico’s legislative session unfolds, let’s stand in faith and lift up our leaders in prayer. Ask God to give them wisdom, integrity, and a heart for justice that honors Him. Let’s pray boldly for laws that protect life, uphold righteousness, and bring peace to our communities.
As we pray for New Mexico’s leaders and justice that honors God, let’s stand firm in faith. God hears, He moves, and He is faithful to accomplish His will.
Keep praying, keep believing!
As we look to the New Year, we often find ourselves full of optimism. We look forward, ready to leave behind the troubles of times past and prepare ourselves for the hope of what is to come. But often, within the first few days, weeks, and months of the year, we find ourselves trapped in old mindsets. We still look for hope, but our visio
As we look to the New Year, we often find ourselves full of optimism. We look forward, ready to leave behind the troubles of times past and prepare ourselves for the hope of what is to come. But often, within the first few days, weeks, and months of the year, we find ourselves trapped in old mindsets. We still look for hope, but our vision is wrapped in the filters of past experiences. We limit our possibilities based on what we know and where we’ve been rather than on the power of God. This year, let your vision of what’s ahead come from the beautiful truth that our God does not want you to be stuck pondering the past, but looking for the new things He is doing. There is no limit to what He can do, but you will miss it if your vision comes from
yesterday’s filter rather than today’s hope. Don’t miss the path he is carving for you or the bounty that he is providing along the way.
Behold, He is doing something new! Are you ready?
Questions/suggestions:
1. What past experiences or mindsets are holding you back from fully embracing the hope and possibilities of the new year?
Suggestion: Take time to journal about areas where you feel stuck or limited. Pray specifically for God to help you release those burdens and replace them with His vision of renewal and growth.
2. How can you intentionally seek God’s "new things" in your daily life this year?
Suggestion: Create a habit of reflecting on Isaiah 43:19 (“Behold, I am doing a new thing…”) during your quiet time. Consider starting a gratitude or prayer journal to document where you see God’s work in your life.
3. What steps can you take to ensure your focus remains on God’s limitless power rather than your own limitations?
Suggestion: Set a weekly goal to meditate on Scriptures that emphasize God’s power and faithfulness. Surround yourself with accountability partners or family members who will encourage you to stay rooted in faith.
Let these questions and suggestions guide your family’s conversations and personal reflections as you approach the new year with hope and expectation.
All throughout the Christmas story we see moments and messages of great joy.
The good news of Jesus’ birth brought great joy. The wise men were overjoyed as they realized the star had led them to the newborn king. Even the babe in Elizabeth’s womb leaped for joy at the sound of Mary’s voice though Jesus had yet to be born. But each mome
All throughout the Christmas story we see moments and messages of great joy.
The good news of Jesus’ birth brought great joy. The wise men were overjoyed as they realized the star had led them to the newborn king. Even the babe in Elizabeth’s womb leaped for joy at the sound of Mary’s voice though Jesus had yet to be born. But each moment of joy required something before that joy could truly be experienced to the fullness it was intended.
It required being still.
When the angels magnificently proclaimed the birth of the Savior, the shepherds had to be still long enough to understand the message. When Mary learned she was going to be the mother of the Messiah, she had to be still and trust that God had a plan. One by one, these encounters with joy required the receiver to be still and know that God was Holy, Almighty, and Magnificent.
This season, amid the Christmas parties, the school plays, and the church cantatas, be sure to take a moment to be still with your family. Don’t miss the joy of the season because you’re too busy to just be still.
Questions/suggestions:
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