When I’m depressed, I listen to myself and focus on my fears about the future. God is inviting me to listen to Him and rest in His promises instead.
Let your faith be bigger than your fear.
That plaque sits prominently on the shelf in my office. Most of the time, I hardly notice it. But recently, that phrase has taken on new meaning.
When we struggle with our children, we often blame ourselves, wondering what we've done wrong. But we need to look at Scripture, remembering God is still working.
Why do we offer whitewashed comfort that minimizes pain when we all need true comfort- that will hold us up no matter the outcome? Where can we find that?
I cried out to the Lord, telling him how this felt colossally unfair. I ended by declaring, “I can’t live like this for the rest of my life. I just can’t do it!” I felt frustrated and angry and overwhelmed all at the same time. I couldn’t imagine living the rest of my life with the physical struggles I had today.
Depression almost withers joy. Those who suffer with it often endure silently, feeling shame and condemnation. Given that, how should Christians approach it?
When each day feels like an insurmountable struggle, and the present is all-consuming, it’s hard to imagine anything good can come out of my story.
While I know God will provide all I need, sometimes I slip into doubt & fear. How can I be sure when the present looks bleak and the future seems uncertain?
After losing our precious baby Paul, God tenderly cared for me. He taught me what it meant to be loved and held by him when my world was falling apart.
Sometimes my faith shakes when my dreams are shattered. Since I cannot sense God's presence, I wonder where he is. I feel alone & afraid as my faith wavers.
Why doesn't God fix my problem when I'm begging him? I have asked that question numerous times as I've felt abandoned by God after begging for his help.
In this crazy world of loss and brokenness, what can I count on? Is there anything I can trust will always be there? Is anything unchangeable?
What do you do with your failure? Do you deny it, rationalize it, hide it or let it bury you? Or do you dare to believe that God can use it ...
What do I do with my unfulfilled longings? Forget them? Deny them? What will that make them go away? Am I wasting my life waiting for what I'll never have?
Some days I wake up crying. When I do I often don’t know why. Perhaps it is the weight of unspoken problems coupled with a vague dread of what comes next.
I have often wondered what it would have been like to watch Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego as they were thrown into the fiery furnace.
How do people come to terms with loss? What do we do with our broken dreams? Can we ever find peace in pain?
God is asking me to be content with the unfinished and the imperfect, to celebrate the small victories, and to trust that He is working in them all.
If I knew God would eventually answer my prayer with “yes,” waiting would be easier. But when the wait seems endless and I’m not sure if there’s any point to it anyway, it feels excruciating.
Our authenticity draws others to God, allowing them to be honest too. God invites our lament as He knows our tendency to pretend we are fine or to walk away, disillusioned.
Most of us would prefer healing to grace. It’s tangible. Visible. A cause for celebration. Our needs are met. What healing can grace offer us in comparison?
When my plans go awry, I always want to believe that I have just taken a detour. Maybe it’s a long one, but I hope I’ll soon return to the way things used to be…
I pull into the driveway, and I’m undone at seeing my camellia bush. This resurrected shrub has weathered many storms and has taught that God is always working, especially when I can’t see it.
It’s hard to believe God loves us in the midst of relentless trials. And yet God shows us His unfailing love as He does his deepest work in the fiercest storms...
I received disappointing news the other day. My first reaction was self-pity and frustration, but then I was reminded that nothing will happen that is not for my good and God’s glory.
I married an amazing man two weeks ago who is teaching me to dance in the sunshine. While I love this phase of life, I know that learning to dance in the rain is an equally precious blessing…
I have many unfulfilled longings—things in my life I wish were different. I have begged God to change them, but the relentless ache that remains does the deepest work in my soul.
At the cross, Mary may have wondered, “What happened to the promises of God? How could they end this way?” And yet the pain she endured was for a plan greater than her wildest dreams…
This Thanksgiving story reminds me that the things I’m most grateful for are often borne from the thorns in my life, that have made me more dependent on Jesus.
I was shocked when my talk resonated with a group of high school boys. It reminded me that I need to trust God and tell my story because the most unlikely people need to hear it.