There are seasons when prayer feels simple, and seasons when it feels impossible—and then there are seasons when prayer must hold everything at once. This series begins not with answers, but with learning how to come to God honestly, according to the season we are truly in.

When something consistently resists truth, peace, and fruit, God does not ask us to fix it—He asks us to release it.

Written in a season of hospice, grief, and holy disruption, this reflection traces how Philippians—the Epistle of Joy—reveals a joy formed through humility, perseverance, and the faithful presence of Christ.

Humility doesn’t end with bending low — it reaches even the tone of our words. In Philippians 2:14, Paul invites us into a Christ-shaped life where surrender silences grumbling and joy rises from quiet obedience.

Make My Joy Complete: The Holy Calling of Philippians 2:1–4 There are passages in Scripture that feel like gentle invitations, and then there are passages that seem to reach out and stop you where you stand — urging you to sit, breathe, and let them read you. Philippians 2:1–4 is one of those passages. It does not offer soft suggestions; it summons us into a way of living so radically shaped by the heart of Christ that only the Spirit could make it possible. Paul begins with

What began as writing about a critical spirit became a living lesson in Christlike humility. Philippians 2 is teaching me how Jesus draws near and shapes us in suffering.

Lately, I’ve had the song “Known” by Tauren Wells  on autoplay — not as background noise, but as something my heart keeps reaching for. There is comfort in those lyrics I can’t seem to let go of. Comfort in knowing that the God who sees every part of me will never pick up the weapons formed against me. Comfort in knowing He isn’t the One who wounds — He is the One who was wounded for me.  The only hands that could judge me were pierced to save me. And somehow, that truth make

Discover how God works in the quiet moments of an ordinary week to heal past trauma, prune a critical spirit, and realign the heart. Through Psalm 139, this post explores spiritual growth, sanctification, emotional healing, and the tender way God reorders us from the inside out.

I used to think prayer was something we did — a box to check, a ritual to perform, a discipline for the devoted. But the first time, in the deep dark of night, that I honestly cried out to God, I realized prayer isn’t something we do at all. It’s someone we become.

Words have always captivated me. Maybe it’s the writer in me, or perhaps it’s the quiet way God wired my heart to notice the details of little things — the pauses, the turns of phrase, the syllables that hold more truth than we first realize. In college, one of my favorite classes was etymology — the study of the origin and history of words. I loved tracing how words were formed, how they shifted over time, how layers of meaning were carried across languages and centuries. Fo

Part 2 — Naomi & Ruth: Mentorship Through Shared Life If Moses and Joshua show us mentorship through leadership, Naomi and Ruth show us...

(Series Introduction + Part 1: Moses & Joshua) When Jesus rose from the grave, He didn’t leave behind books He had written or...

There was a season in my life when I avoided Proverbs 31 altogether. It felt like a checklist I was doomed to fail. Single mom. MBA...

While headlines roar and sanctuaries fill with collective mourning, I have carried my own smaller sorrow—an unfulfilled hope, a door I longed to see open but that instead quietly closed. It has left me wondering if I am unlovable, if God’s answer is no, or if I have somehow not become the woman He needs me to be. These are questions I don’t have tidy answers for. They rise in the night, uninvited, and they press close to the heart.

And over time, I learned something sacred: the valleys did not break me. They bent me low, pressed me deeper, and anchored me in the One who holds all things together.

The Tender Beginning There is a sacred beauty in the first steps of faith. When you first say “yes” to Jesus, the world looks different....

“ But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.” (Luke 2:19, 51) As I sit quietly this Mother’s Day eve,...