Month: August 2025

Cheerleaders, Not Competitors

Leave a comment

Competition has no place in the Kingdom of God. It’s not a principle of Heaven, and it’s certainly not the posture of a heart that understands who God is and what He’s building.

When I spent weeks blogging and podcasting about seasons of transition, I kept returning to this principle: whether you are the incoming leader or the outgoing leader, you are not the comparison—you are the cheerleader. However, this principle applies to every single person in the body of Christ. If you are serving Jesus, you are serving the Body – not creating competition within it.

Think about what comparison does. It isolates. It fuels insecurity. It says, “If you succeed, there’s less for me.” Let me remind you, friend: that is a lie straight from the enemy. God is not limited. Someone else’s blessing does not diminish your portion. If anything, it should remind you of the greatness of the Giver. There is no place for a scarcity mentality here.

When we forget this, we start comparing, striving, and even resenting what God is doing in someone else. There’s some red flags there, so hold up – Scripture reminds us over and over that we are one body. A hand should not work against another hand. An elbow should not oppose an eyeball. A shoulder should not trip up a toe. Each part matters. Each part plays a role. The body can only function properly when each part works together in unity.

Cheerleaders, on the other hand, celebrate progress and victory—whether or not they are the ones holding the trophy. They wave the banner of encouragement, not envy. They make noise for someone else’s moment, knowing that when one part of the body thrives, the entire body benefits.

Luke 5 paints this picture beautifully. When Jesus told Peter to put his nets back into the water after an exhausting, fishless night (is fishless a word? you get me!), the catch was so large that the nets began to break. What was Peter’s first reaction? Did he say, “I’ve got to keep this all to myself”? No. Scripture says he signaled for his partners in the other boat to come and help (Luke 5:6-7).

What God was doing for Peter was not just about Peter. It was about blessing others. It was about enlarging the circle of provision and letting the miracle overflow into other people’s boats.

That is how Kingdom success works. It’s never all about you. If God has given you a gift, a platform, or an opportunity, He’s given it not just to you—but through you—for the body of Christ. When someone else in ministry receives a breakthrough, launches a new program, publishes a book, grows their platform, or leads someone to Christ, it is not a threat to you. It is a reason to celebrate!

We live in a culture that often measures value by visibility and success by numbers. But Kingdom work isn’t measured that way. When one church thrives, the Kingdom advances. When another leader has a fruitful season, heaven rejoices. When heaven rejoices, that;’s our cue to rejoice as well!

Paul makes this clear in Romans 12:15: “Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.” This is not a suggestion—it is a command. A Christlike posture sees another’s success and says, “Thank You, Lord, for what You are doing in them—and through them—for all of us.”

Psalm 84 gives us another glimpse of God’s design for His people: “They go from strength to strength; till each appears before God in Zion” (v. 7). Notice the wording: they go—not he or she, but they. The psalmist is painting a picture of a people on pilgrimage together, drawing strength not just from God, but from one another, until every single one of them reaches the destination.

When I imagine standing before the Lord at the end of my race, I don’t want to come empty-handed or with a spirit of rivalry. I want to arrive arm in arm, hand in hand, raising up my brothers and sisters, celebrating what God has done in all of us. I want to know that I spent my life building others up—not tearing them down, not comparing, not competing—but cheering until the very end.

The beautiful truth about following Christ is that this is not a race where only one person wins. There are no podiums in heaven—only crowns laid at the feet of Jesus. We are all running toward the same finish line, all pursuing the same glory—His glory.

Friend, refuse to engage in competition within the body of Christ. Let’s cheer one another on with every ounce of faith and joy we have. When we finally stand before the Lord, my prayer is that we’ll be together—arm in arm, hand in hand—celebrating the goodness of God in all of us. Truth belongs to the Lord. Every gift, calling, or opportunity He places in our hands is not for our glory, but for the benefit of the body of Christ – and when we share joyfully, we share a treasure! ❤

Bearing One Another’s Burdens: a Two Way Street!

Leave a comment

Galatians 6:2 says, “Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.”

That little verse holds a very big idea. Paul is telling us that when we bear one another’s burdens—when we show love in tangible, practical ways—we are actually fulfilling the law of Christ. What law? The law that Jesus Himself gave us: to love one another, and to be known by that love.

It’s one thing to talk about love, but Paul takes it a step further. He reminds us to put feet on it. Love isn’t only a feeling; it’s an action. Bearing one another’s burdens means praying for each other, lifting each other up, helping each other, and taking action to care for one another in real and practical ways.

For me, this verse is both a comfort and a conviction.

This verse comforts me because it reminds me that I am not alone. If you’ve been with me for any length of time, you know how important relationships are to me. Of course, my relationship with Jesus comes first—but investing in spiritual friendships matters to me as well. This verse reassures me that community is part of God’s design. We weren’t made to walk through life alone.

This verse convicts me because it reminds me that bearing one another’s burdens goes both ways: it means that I share your burdens and also that you share mine.

The first part—helping others—that comes naturally to me. I’m honored to pray for someone, to encourage, to step in and help however I can. But the second part—the part where I’m the one who shares my burdens—doesn’t come as easily.

Can I be vulnerable with you? Somewhere along the way, I picked up a lie: “If I’m not perfect, you won’t love me.” Because of that lie, sharing my own burdens sometimes feels risky. What if I’m rejected? What if people see my weakness and step back instead of leaning in? Maybe you can relate?

The truth is, it’s hard to let others see the places where we’re weak – but if we keep everything inside, we’re missing the fullness of what God designed community to be. (I’m not suggesting that you tell everybody everything. That wouldn’t be wise. We need to use discernment and listen to the Holy Spirit about what to share and with whom. But keeping everything to ourselves isn’t wisdom either).

One of my favorite verses that reminds me of this truth is Psalm 103:14: “The Lord knows our frame; He remembers that we are dust.” God knows our weaknesses. He knows our limits. Still, in His kindness, He placed us in families, in communities, and in relationships with one another so that no one has to walk alone.

Sometimes we forget that perfection was never the expectation. Yes, some people may wrongly expect it, but God never does. He sees our weaknesses, and instead of rejecting us, He meets us with compassion. That’s the same heart we should have toward one another: grace, love, and a judgment-free space where burdens can be shared.

Isaiah 40:11 gives us a beautiful picture of how God deals with us: “He shall feed His flock like a shepherd; He shall gather the lambs with His arm, carry them in His bosom, and gently lead those who are with young.”

What a picture of gentleness. Our Shepherd doesn’t deal harshly with us. He carries us close to His heart. He leads us with tenderness. He loves us when we’re strong and when we’re weak, when we get it right and when we get it wrong. Friend, He delights in you. On your best days and on your worst days, you are a delight to the Lord.

When we live in that freedom—resting in His love—we can extend the same freedom to others. We can walk in grace toward one another, allowing our community to be a safe place where burdens can be shared.

John 3:16 is a verse many of us learned as children: “For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life.”

But we often forget to read the very next verse: “For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through Him” (John 3:17).

Our salvation is a free gift. It’s not something we can earn, and it’s not something we can lose by not being “perfect enough.” There is no condemnation in Christ.

If that’s true, then our communities should reflect the same freedom. Bearing one another’s burdens should never come with fear or judgment. You should be able to come to me without fear, and I should be able to come to you without fear—because we’re not trying to meet an impossible standard. We’re simply living as beloved children of God.

If you serve in ministry—a pastor’s wife, pastor, small group leader, Bible study teacher—this can feel even harder. There’s a real (or sometimes imagined) pressure to appear perfect in front of those you serve. I’ve felt that too.

Let me encourage you: don’t be afraid to be vulnerable. Don’t carry the weight of perfection on your shoulders. As you bear the burdens of others, also allow others to bear yours. That’s not weakness—it’s obedience.

When we do this, letting this burden sharing happen on both sides, we’re not just helping each other. We’re fulfilling the law of Christ. Let’s be the kind of people who carry each other’s burdens. Let’s create spaces where it’s safe to be honest, where grace and love flow freely, and where no one has to fear rejection.

We don’t have to be perfect to be loved—by God or by each other. And when we live that way, we fulfill the very law of Christ: to love one another as He has loved us. What a treasure that is! ❤

The Scared Steps that Build Our Faith

Leave a comment

There’s a saying floating around in the self-help world: “Do it scared.”

It’s catchy. It’s inspiring. And it’s a whole lot easier said than done.

When fear shows up, our first instinct is often to stop, freeze, or retreat. We imagine that in order to move forward, we have to first get rid of the fear. Know this: fear isn’t always a stop sign. Fear can be an indicator that we’re stepping into something bigger than ourselves.

Almost every time God says “do not fear” in Scripture, He couples it with a promise of His presence:

  • “Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God.” (Isaiah 41:10)
  • “For I, the Lord your God, hold your right hand; it is I who say to you, ‘Fear not, I am the one who helps you.’” (Isaiah 41:13)
  • “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me.” (Psalm 23:4)
  • “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear…” (Psalm 46:1–3)
  • “Do not be afraid of them; the Lord your God himself will fight for you.” (Deuteronomy 3:22)
  • “Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified… for the Lord your God goes with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you.” (Deuteronomy 31:6)
  • “The Lord is my helper; I will not fear; what can man do to me?” (Hebrews 13:6)

We sometimes imagine fear as a weakness or a flaw, but Jesus understands fear intimately. Hebrews 4:15 reminds us that He experienced every emotion we do—without sin. He knows what it feels like to be pressed by uncertainty, threatened by danger, and pulled into the tension of “this is hard, but I must obey.” Fear is human.

Remember the Garden of Gethsemane? Jesus prayed in deep distress, fully aware of the suffering to come, and still He walked forward in obedience. That’s not the absence of fear—that’s courage grounded in the Father’s will.

Maybe “do it scared” isn’t about pushing through in our own strength while fear gnaws at the edges of our courage. Maybe it’s about doing it with fear… Not fear/scared but fear/confidence in the Lord. The kind of confidence that says, “Yes, my heart is racing, but my God is here. My knees might be shaking, but my Savior’s hand is holding mine. I may tremble, but His promises will not.”

Vulnerable moment: I get scared sometimes. I can be full of faith and still feel the thump of anxiety in my chest. (Okay, to be really honest – I feel it in my stomach – that kind of dropping, didn’t finish my homework, might throw up kind of feeling). I’ve learned that I can hold fear and faith together, the way I’ve held joy and grief at the same time. Sometimes I can switch from fear scared to fear confident in the Lord as quickly as flipping off a light. Fortunately, when the light in my soul flickers off, the Holy Spirit is there to switch it back on. Every time.

The Holy Spirit doesn’t shame us for feeling fear. He simply displays the truth again and again—reminding us of God’s promises, steadying our breath, whispering the courage of Scripture into our hearts. In that light that He switched back on for me, I can do anything He’s called me to do. Not because fear is gone, but because His presence is greater.

And you can, too.

When David wrote Psalm 23:4—“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil”—he didn’t deny that the valley existed. He didn’t minimize the shadows. He simply placed the reality of God’s presence above the reality of danger.

That’s what “do it scared” looks like for a believer: not blind bravado, not pretending fear doesn’t exist, but taking the next step because the Lord is with us.

Every time we take that step, something happens: fear loses just a little more of its grip. Faith grows a little stronger. We start to see God’s fingerprints not just on the moments when we felt brave, but on the trembling moments when we leaned on Him most.

If you’re standing at the edge of something right now—something that feels risky, uncomfortable, or overwhelming—here’s a prayer for you:

Lord, You know my fears. You know how my heart races when I think about what lies ahead. Thank You for the reminder that You never leave my side. Give me courage to take the next step, not because I feel strong, but because You are my strength. Let Your presence be more real to me than my fear. In Jesus’ name, amen.

You don’t have to wait until you “feel” ready. You don’t have to wait for the fear to disappear. If God has called you, He’s already promised to go with you. Take the step. Make the call. Start the project. Have the conversation. You aren’t alone, and moving forward in the knowledge that God has you on every side is a treasure ❤

In the Gap: Holding On Between the Storm and the Rescue

Leave a comment

This morning, I’ve been thinking about a promise from Jesus that doesn’t usually make it onto Instagram feeds or coffee mugs. It’s not the one we highlight with glittery pens or turn into wall art, but it is a promise—and it’s one that speaks to real life:

“In this world you will have tribulation.” John 16:33 (NKJV)

Tribulation. Storms. Struggle.

“Praise the Lord from the earth, You great sea creatures and all the depths; Fire and hail, snow and clouds; Stormy wind, fulfilling His word.” Psalm 148:7–8 (NKJV)

These aren’t the moments we rush to post online. We tend to reserve our social media feeds for the highlights—the celebrations, the breakthroughs, the pretty parts of the journey. But what about the fire? The hail? The stormy wind?

Even the stormy wind fulfills His word. That’s hard to grasp sometimes. We believe God is with us in the peaceful places—but what about when life gets loud and chaotic? What about when we’re tossed around by disappointment, uncertainty, or waiting?

The Bible never promises a life free of storms. But it does promise purpose in them and presence through them. Storms don’t disqualify you from God’s promises. They may, in fact, be the very setting where those promises are forged more deeply into your soul.

Scripture also says this:

“The end of a thing is better than its beginning; The patient in spirit is better than the proud in spirit.” Ecclesiastes 7:8 (NKJV)

The end is better than the beginning. But what about the middle?

What about that awkward, stretched-out space between where we started and where we hope to end up? What about the gap?

There’s often a long and confusing distance between the first step of obedience and the moment of breakthrough. Between the letting go and the stepping in. Between the storm and the rescue.

That in-between space is hard.

It’s tempting to question the path, doubt the decision, or wonder if we’ve missed something. But more often than not, the gap is exactly where God is growing our faith.

Maybe you’re in that space today. You said “yes” to something God placed in your heart. You followed His leading. You obeyed. But now… things feel quiet. Or messy. Or painful. Or like nothing is happening at all.

If that’s you, I want to encourage you: the gap is not evidence of God’s absence. It’s an invitation to deeper trust.

Jesus didn’t stop at “you will have tribulation.” He continued with confidence and compassion:

“But be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.” John 16:33

He reminds us that we’re never alone. Not in the joy and not in the struggle. Not at the finish line and not in the wilderness. He has already overcome—and that changes everything.

This morning, a friend texted me a verse she’s been holding onto—a “light at the end of the tunnel” kind of promise. It immediately lifted something in my spirit, and I want to share it with you, too:

“Unto the upright there ariseth light in the darkness: He is gracious, and full of compassion, and righteous.” Psalm 112:4 (KJV)

Light in the darkness.

What a beautiful phrase. Not just light after the darkness. Light in it.

God doesn’t wait for the storm to end to show up. He doesn’t wait for you to figure it out before offering His compassion. He is gracious and kind and righteous—right in the middle of your mess.

The gap doesn’t mean you’re lost.

It doesn’t mean the story is over.

It just means you’re in the middle.

The middle matters more than we often realize. It’s where character is shaped. It’s where trust is refined. It’s where you learn not just to believe in God’s promises—but to believe in His heart.

If you find yourself in a waiting season today, I want you to know:

You are not behind. You are not overlooked. You are not forgotten. You are simply between the beginning and the breakthrough. The storm may still be raging, but the Lord is still speaking. The fire may be refining, but His compassion is still surrounding. The path may feel uncertain, but His presence is steady and sure.

So hang in there, friend. You don’t need to see the whole map to trust the One who wrote it. You don’t need the full ending to rest in the Author of your story. You don’t need a picture-perfect update to prove that God is working.

He is working – and when the light arises you’ll see how deeply He’s been present in the process all along.

So if you’re in the gap today—between the step and the arrival, between the storm and the rescue—take heart. You’re not alone. You’re not empty. You’re not forgotten. And you’re not alone – I’m here with you.

You’re walking with the One who has already overcome – and that is a promise, a treasure, worth holding on to ❤