There is only One who is 100% trustworthy, 100% true, and 100% loyal. He will never fail you, forsake you, or forget you. His truth is not conditional. His love is not transactional. His faithfulness does not depend on your performance.

We want to choose our change, but often, change chooses us. It’s constant and inevitable. The question is: how do we prepare our hearts, minds, and souls to lean into it — through the pressure, the uncertainty, and the discomfort — rather than resist it?

The question isn’t whether grief will come—it’s where you’ll go with it when it does. There are moments when sorrow feels too heavy to name, when you wonder who could ever understand it. You ask, What is the cure for this deep pain?

We all know the sting of regret. It comes in many forms—sadness, disappointment over something said or done, a choice made, or a missed opportunity. Regret can leave us with remorse, sorrow, even heartache. And if left unchecked, it often grows into bitterness, resentment, guilt, shame, or blame. What begins as a moment of failure becomes a roadblock that drags behind us like a weight, making it hard to move forward.

Jesus calls Himself the true vine. A vine grows from the root, sending life through every branch. To remain connected to Him is to receive that life, to bear fruit that lasts. Maximum fruitfulness requires pruning, and pruning is painful. But pain in His hands always leads to greater productivity. Dead wood only weakens and harms the vine.

We do not fear the Lord for what we “get” in return, but for the privilege of what He has already given—His very presence and, through Jesus, His resurrection life.

Nothing is quite as painful for a parent as watching a child struggle. How many times have we said—or heard someone say—“I just want my child to be happy”?

That’s the God we serve—He takes what seems empty, insufficient, or broken and fills it to overflowing.

Anything worth having is worth fighting for. We know this in so many areas of life—whether it’s health, relationships, or goals we’ve set for ourselves. Why would we think that faith, with all its promises and benefits, would come without a struggle?

Today, right where you are, God is at work. Not just someday in the future. Not only in the past when you can look back and see how He carried you through. Right now—in this moment, in this place—He is who He says He is.

Our first “yes” to Jesus is life-changing—it sets us on the path toward our true destination: life everlasting with Him.

Without repentance, sin always circles back. It returns again and again—repeating, ruining, eroding our lives and the lives of those we love. That’s the nature of unrepentant sin: it doesn't stay still, and it doesn’t stay private.

Tomorrow is my birthday—and not just any birthday. I’m stepping into a new decade of life. Milestones like this invite reflection. They help me pause, look back with gratitude, and look ahead with faith.

Amid the chaotic world around me daily, I am invited to take my place at the table of the gracious host of heaven. You prepare a table for me in the presence of my enemies.

Zacchaeus wasn’t just physically small. He was morally compromised, socially rejected, and spiritually starved. Scripture tells us he was a chief tax collector and very wealthy—rich, but not full. The kind of wealth he had came at the expense of others. He wasn’t just viewed as a traitor; he likely carried within him the shame and bitterness of his own choices.

After God gave Gideon a calling to save Israel from Midianite oppression (Judges 6:14), He led Gideon and just 300 men to a miraculous victory over a vast Midianite army. Though the initial battle had been won, the mission wasn’t yet complete. Gideon and his men were still in pursuit—exhausted, but determined to finish what God had started through them.

Are you settling for less than what God has given or promised you? Maybe it’s in your calling, your relationships, your purpose. Maybe you started strong but now feel worn down by resistance, setbacks, or delays. The temptation to settle grows when the battle feels too long.

When I’m empty, hungry, weak, uncertain, or overwhelmed, I’ve learned where to go: the Word. When I consume it—really take it in—it nourishes me. His faithfulness fills the emptiness. It strengthens what’s weak. It reminds me of what’s true. And it helps me recall all the ways He’s come through before.

It’s not enough to hear. It’s not enough to be moved emotionally. The Holy Spirit may use someone to plant the Word in your heart, but unless you allow Him to grow deep roots of truth within you, you won’t endure.

You can map out your plans and organize your schedule—but God always has the authority to interrupt and redirect. The wise learn to hold their calendars loosely, asking not just what to do next, but why.