Reflections vs Resolutions: An Invitation to Deeper Transformation in 2026

I have moved the blog to www.connectmentoringnetwork.org – but this is a personal one, thought I’d leave it here. Maybe you and I will visit from time to time at this site in 2026…. Let’s visit today, friend!

This year, what if we chose something deeper? Let’s take a look at reflections vs resolutions.

As we step into 2026, many of us feel the familiar pull of a new year—the clean slate, the fresh start, the pressure to decide who we will become in the next twelve months. I was ready to let go of 2025, and I’m excited for a new day in 2026 – check in here if you missed my last blog

If you are like me, “resolutions” seem to come to mind at the same time we think of a new year: goals to be thinner, stronger, more productive, more organized, more disciplined. While there is nothing inherently wrong with resolutions and goals that gear toward growth or intentionality, the danger is that our focus so easily drifts toward self-improvement while quietly neglecting soul formation.

reflections vs resolutions

Psalm 65:11 declares, “You crown the year with Your goodness, and Your paths drip with abundance.” This is not a picture of us striving to make the year good – it’s a picture of God Himself placing a crown of goodness upon it. The year ahead is not crowned by our resolve, our willpower, or our perfectly executed plans. It is crowned by the goodness of God. That truth invites us to begin the year not with pressure, but with trust. That truth may lead you to make reflections vs resolutions. 

Reflections vs Resolutions: 

Rather than asking, “What do I want to accomplish this year?” perhaps the better question for 2026 is, “Who am I becoming in Christ?”

Where have I been tempted to trust my own effort more than God’s goodness as I look ahead?

Scripture consistently calls us away from frantic striving and toward faithful abiding. In Isaiah 43:18–19, the Lord says,“Remember not the former things, nor consider the things of old. Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?” God is not merely interested in helping us refine old patterns—He is inviting us into something new altogether. New depths of trust. New ways of walking with Him. New levels of surrender that cannot grow in soil cluttered by yesterday’s disappointments or successes.

However – perceiving the “new thing” God is doing requires space. Stillness. Souls that are not overcrowded by noise, hurry, and self-imposed expectations.

Reflections vs Resolutions: 

Rather than asking, “How can I improve on last year?” perhaps the better question for 2026 is, “Who am I becoming in Christ as He does something new in me?”

What former things might God be inviting me to release so I can perceive what He is doing now?

We live in a world that rewards hustle and measures worth by output. Even within Christian spaces, we can quietly absorb the belief that spiritual maturity is proven by how much we do for God. Yet Scripture reminds us that transformation flows from identity, not activity. “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come” (2 Corinthians 5:17).

This is not a future promise—it is a present reality. In Christ, we are already made new. Growth in the Christian life is not about earning a new identity, but learning to live from the one we have been given. When we forget this, our faith becomes performance-driven, and intimacy with God slowly gives way to pressure.

Reflections vs Resolutions: 

Rather than asking, “What spiritual habits should I add this year?” perhaps the better question for 2026 is, “Who am I becoming in Christ as I live from my new identity?”

Where might I be striving to prove my faith instead of resting in who I already am in Him?

Tending a soul is slow, intentional work. It looks like lingering in Scripture instead of rushing through a plan. It looks like prayer that is honest rather than polished. It looks like creating margin to listen, repent, trust, and return—again and again. Soul care is not flashy, but it is where intimacy with God is cultivated.

Jeremiah 29:11 reminds us, “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.” These words were spoken to people in exile—people living in the tension between promise and fulfillment. God’s good plans do not eliminate hardship, but they anchor us in hope and faithfulness while we wait.

Reflections vs Resolutions

Rather than asking, “How can I control what happens this year?” perhaps the better question for 2026 is, “Who am I becoming in Christ as I trust His plans?”

What would it look like to tend my soul instead of trying to manage every outcome?

As we enter 2026, many of us carry unseen burdens from the year behind us—losses, unanswered prayers, fatigue from doing all the “right things” without seeing fruit. Choosing intimacy with Christ does not ignore those realities, but it reframes them. Faithfulness is not measured by visible success, but by quiet obedience, daily surrender, and continued trust.

We can be confident of this: as we are faithful to God, He will surely be faithful to us. He always has been. He always will be.

Perhaps this year, we release the pressure to reinvent ourselves and instead choose abiding over striving. We choose depth over distraction. Faithfulness over frenzy. Formation over performance. Reflections vs resolutions.

May 2026 be a year crowned with His goodness. May your soul be tended with care. And may your greatest growth be found not in what you accomplish, but in who you are becoming in Christ. What a treasure that would be!

Let’s continue the conversation on the podcast! Join me on Thursday at 10:00 – subscribe here: https://www.youtube.com/@JenniferWSpivey

Want help achieving your resolutions in 2026? A new cohort is forming now at wwww.connectmentoringnetwork.org. All kinds of resources, all at your fingertips and all at your 

2025 Was That Year for Me

I have moved the blog to http://www.connectmentoringnetwork.org – but this is a personal one, thought I’d leave it here. Maybe you and I will visit from time to time at this site in 2026…. Let’s visit today, friend

I don’t think I realized how much 2025 took out of me until I finally paused long enough to look back. It was a year of so many changes—some expected, some sudden, some welcome, some unwelcome. A year where my mental, spiritual, and physical reserves were stretched in ways I never anticipated. In the same twelve months, grief can sit beside joy, loss can hold hands with gain, and exhaustion can coexist with wonder. That was the paradox, the tension, the beauty of this year.

Some years ask more of us than others. Some years feel like an uphill climb. Some years stretch us until we’re not sure how much more we can give. 2025 was that year for me.

Some years give more than we ever expected. Some years feel like a downhill run with the wind at your back. Some years fill you until you’re not sure your heart can hold any more gratitude. 2025 was that year for me.

All the changes—good ones, hard ones, and everything in between—pulled at my mental, spiritual, and physical energy. There were days I handled it with grace, and days I handled it with grit. 

And then there were days I handled it only because God held me together. (Can anyone else relate to “fake it ‘til you make it”? Those 29 years of “pastor’s wife frozen smile and I’m fine” came in handy on some days…. )

Some things this year turned out exactly as I had hoped or envisioned. Those were the moments that felt like fresh air—like God placing a gentle hand on my shoulder and whispering, “See? I’m working.”

Other things turned out so differently I had to fight to keep my footing. I had to remind myself to breathe, to pray, to steady my heart.

Some things came to such an abrupt halt that it made my head spin. Change that sudden can be jarring, even when we know God is sovereign.

And then—right alongside the hard—there were moments so full of joy I could hardly contain them. Laughter that surprised me. Blessings that overwhelmed me. Grace that arrived at the perfect moment. 

This year, seasons ended. New seasons began. Some doors closed quietly, others slammed shut. Some opened gently, and some burst open wide with opportunity.

Joy and grief sat in the same room.

Consolation and celebration shared the same table.

Loss and gain held hands.

I learned—again—that life rarely separates its emotions neatly.

2025 was that year for me.

Yet through every part of it, God was in it all: not just at the points of triumph, not only in the moments of clarity. He was present in the chaos, the confusion, the uncertainty, the exhaustion.

He was faithful when I felt strong.

He was faithful when I felt undone.

He celebrated when I celebrated.

Some days, He showed me the entire picture—how things fit together, where He was leading, how the pieces connected, how the dark was overcome by the light.

Other days, all I could see was the dark contrast. I couldn’t trace the outline. I couldn’t see the movement. I just had to trust that the dark would work with the light, that His hand was still shaping something good, that tomorrow would bring the illumination I lacked today.

2025 was that year for me.

I remembered an old song, and as the lyrics flooded back with all the memories that came along with it, I couldn’t stop the tears: 

Tears and fears and feeling proud to say, “I love you, ” right out loud

Dreams and schemes and circus crowds, I’ve looked at life that way

But now old friends, they’re acting strange; they shake their heads, tell me that I’ve changed

Well, something’s lost, but something’s gained in living every day

I’ve looked at life from both sides now, from win and lose and still somehow

It’s life’s illusions I recall, I really don’t know life at all

The gift is that I don’t have to know life at all – I have to know the One who holds all the days that string together to make a life.  I’m so grateful He holds this for me.

I think that’s one of the hidden gifts of a hard year, a blessed year, a growing year, a year that was all things at once: it teaches us to trust God not only when we understand Him, but also when we don’t. It teaches us that His goodness is not dependent on our clarity, and His faithfulness is not limited by our strength or our weakness.

Looking back, I can say this with certainty:

  • God did not waste a single moment of my 2025.
  • He used every joy, every shock, every ending, every beginning.
  • He held every tear and strengthened every step.
  • He stayed close when my world felt unsteady 
  • He celebrated with me when new life blossomed.

And as I step into a new year, I’m carrying these truths with me:

  • Even when something is lost, something is gained.
  • Even when the scene changes, God remains.
  • Even when I can’t see the full picture, His hands are already framing the next chapter.

And the next chapter is good – it will be good for you, too. As the psalmist said in 65:11, “You crown the year with Your goodness , And Your paths drip with abundance.” He did that in 2025 – 2025 was that year for me, His goodness, His abundance, exactly what I didn’t know to ask for. He’ll do it again in 2026, in 2027, in 2028, and so on until Jesus Christ returns. We are assured of that too, that  “He who has begun a good work in you will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ” (Phil. 1:6). 

I don’t know what the coming year will bring, but I do know this—I will walk into it with the same God who faithfully carried me through this one. His faithfulness and steadfast love is always the treasure ❤ 

Rewind: I Like to Start the Clap

I used to teach music in an elementary school.  Several years ago, my handbell choir and my mallet band were invited to perform at a local theater, part of benefit concert concert for a local charity.  We were really excited to participate, and we were also excited to be allowed to stay and watch the entire concert! I wrote this blog after one of our performances back in 2017, and it fit with the theme of the past couple of weeks – I thought it was worth re-visiting!

One of my students sat next to me during this concert.  He had a charming habit that I always remember: he would sit on the edge of his seat, so excited, with his hands raised to chest level and ready to go.  At first, I didn’t understand his stance (can’t he just sit still, relax, stay awhile?), but my little friend quickly explained: “Mrs. Spivey, I like to start the clap! I want to be the first one to start clapping, and the whole audience will follow me!”  It still makes me smile today, years later.  My student was quick to celebrate the success of others – what an incredible trait to learn so young! It’s a great example and lesson for us!

For my student, the concert was that: a concert.  It wasn’t a competition.  He was excited to be there and share his talents, and it didn’t take anything away from him at all that others were invited to share theirs as well.  His joy wasn’t diminished – in fact, it was the total opposite: he wanted to “start the clap”!

I love people who love to celebrate the gifts of others – they are a joy to be around, and super encouraging!  We have some great examples in the Word of people who were quick to celebrate. How about the dad in the story of the prodigal son?  When he saw his estranged son, look at his response:

“while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion, and ranand embraced him and kissed him” Luke 15:20 ESV

He immediately had his servants prepare a party – he said to bring the best robe quickly and gave them a list of things to prepare for a celebration (Luke 15:22-24).  He “started the clap”!

The prodigal’s brother had a much different response.  He was upset at his father’s joy, and somehow got the idea that a celebration of his brother took something away from him.  His father had to explain, “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. It was fitting to celebrate and be glad” (Luke 15:31b-32a).

Important to notice: the prodigal’s return didn’t take a single thing away from the brother  – nothing was reallocated, nothing was lost.  Actually, something was added: his brother, back in his life!  This was cause to celebrate, but the brother couldn’t because he made it all about himself.  Maybe you know someone who has adopted this attitude, centered around self.  Maybe you have been someone who has adopted this attitude, centered around self.  A friend gets a raise, gets a contract, gets an inheritance, gets a new car…. what’s the first thing that comes to mind?  Do you think, “Why them and not me?” or do you “start the clap”?

My student didn’t think that sharing the stage was taking anything away from us.  His joy wasn’t diminished because he wasn’t the only one invited.  He was happy to be there with everyone.  He did his best on stage, played an important part and did well with his group.   He then joined the audience and led them in “starting the clap”!  His joy was genuine and contagious.  He was ready to start the celebration! I love that!  If a 10 year old can do it, we can do it too!

The ability to value the gifts of others without allowing a root of jealousy to form – that’s a treasure. Romans 12:15 says to “rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep”.  Oddly enough, sometimes the weeping part is easier than the rejoicing part. I’m praying that you will find that, in this life, there is enough joy to go around.  I’m praying that you will be able to recognize that the blessings of God in someone else’s life do not take away or diminish yours at all.

We’ll continue the conversation on Thursday on the Connect podcast – subscribe and join me: https://www.youtube.com/@JenniferWSpivey

And check out the new Connect mentoring website: www.connectmentoringnetwork.org! Can’t wait to see you there!

In the meantime, I’m praying that you will be the one to “start the clap” – because in the abundant life that Jesus offers to us, there are enough treasures to share!

Jennifer 

Cheerleaders, Not Competitors

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!

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

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

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 ❤

More Sure than Sunrise

This morning, as I went through my usual routine, I noticed something written on the bottle of my face wash: “targets 100% of daily pollution.” It caught my eye, but not for the reason the marketing team probably intended. I paused and thought, “That phrase actually means nothing.”

Sure, it targets 100%—but does it actually hit 100%? “Targeting” doesn’t guarantee success. It doesn’t even necessarily imply effort. I can target anything all day long and never come close to actually hitting it. I’m sure when I bought that face wash, I read the label and thought, “Oh okay, 100%,” trusted it blindly and moved on without a second thought. We’ve gotten so used to empty phrases that we barely notice them anymore.

I thought about that phrase through the morning. Later, as I tossed a load of laundry into the washer, I realized that I don’t even question whether the clothes will come out clean. I trust that the detergent will do its job. I don’t second-guess the rinse cycle. I just press “start” and walk away in full confidence that it’s going to work. Again, I wondered: what else do I trust in blindly?

It’s a silly question at first glance, but really… do I have more immediate confidence in man-made systems and mass-produced products than I do in the very words of God?

In our world, we’re constantly bombarded by words that sound important but lack substance. Commercials, slogans, political speeches, even everyday conversations—so much of what we hear is padded with fluff and exaggeration. Our culture has become comfortable with over-promising and under-delivering. Without realizing it, we start to read everything with a filter of skepticism.

But this can never be applied to God’s words. Our casually adopted skepticism or blind trust don’t belong here when we open our Bibles.

To be honest, Jesus said some things that are so big and bold that they could be hard to believe at times, but every word is true!

  • He IS our Healer. (Isaiah 53:5)
  • He IS our Intercessor. (Romans 8:34)
  • He IS our Best Friend. (John 15:15)
  • He IS our Savior. (Luke 2:11)
  • He IS our High Priest who understands both our deepest pain and our greatest joy. (Hebrews 4:15)

Beyond being true, He invites us to question, understand, and know. We don’t have to look at the label and say “oh, He’ll heal” as if it is a casual phrase with no meaning. These aren’t just poetic phrases or theological vocabulary. These are realities. They’re promises backed by the character of a God who cannot lie (Titus 1:2). Jesus doesn’t just target our needs—He fulfills them. He doesn’t aim vaguely in our direction—He comes close and delivers every single time. Sure, you can trust Him blindly, that’s no problem. Unlike the person who wrote “targets 100% of daily pollution” and hopes you buy it without question (like I did!), God asks us to test Him, taste and see that He is good. What a comfort it is to have the promise, understand the promise, be able to stand in it and understand it as you see His word come alive and come to pass in your own life.

Here are a couple of favorites, invitations from the Lord to not only trust Him but also understand Him:

“Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good;
Blessed is the man who trusts in Him!” Psalm 34:8

“….Test me in this,” says the Lord Almighty, “and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing….” Malachi 3:10

One more today: Psalm 130:6 says, “My soul waits for the Lord more than those who watch for the morning—yes, more than those who watch for the morning.”

Those who “watch for the morning” are the night guards, the sentries on duty before dawn. They’ve spent hours in the dark, and they know the morning is coming. They don’t wonder if the sun will rise—they know it will. Their waiting is filled with anticipation, not doubt. The psalmist says his soul waits for the Lord even more than that. The psalmist is more convinced that God will show up in his life than he is that the sun will rise in the morning.

Are we that convinced? We can be. Because unlike the world’s empty words and broken promises, the words of God are always reliable, always true. Numbers 23:19 reminds us:

“God is not a man, that He should lie, nor a son of man, that He should change His mind. Does He speak and then not act? Does He promise and not fulfill?”

Everything God has said, He will do. Every word He’s spoken, He will keep. His truth is more constant than the sunrise and more dependable than any product or process you’ve ever trusted.

So what do we do with this?

First, we learn to take God at His Word. We read Scripture and believe it. Not as poetry or philosophy, but as living truth. If He says He is near to the brokenhearted, He is. If He says He’ll never leave us, He won’t. If He says His grace is sufficient, it is.

Second, we let His faithfulness shape the way we speak. Jesus said in Matthew 5:37, “Let your ‘yes’ be ‘yes,’ and your ‘no,’ ‘no.’ Anything more than this comes from the evil one.”

If we are children of God, then our words should carry weight, too. No fluff, no exaggeration, no glossing over promises we don’t intend to keep. We reflect the heart of God when our words are trustworthy—when what we say actually means something.

I encourage you to look at the words of the Lord not like you look at a marketing label, but like you look at the sunrise: unchanging, trustworthy, certain. More certain than the day itself.

Jesus can be trusted. More powerful than any product. More dependable than the sun. Let His truth bring you confidence and peace. No matter where you are in the waiting – whether it is for the sun to rise or the season to change, confidence in the Lord is a treasure ❤

Move Anyway: Faith Doesn’t Wait for Certainty

There comes a moment in every believer’s life when the choice is clear: stay safe and stuck, or take a step of faith. We talk a lot about trusting God, but sometimes trust looks less like peaceful waiting and more like nervous obedience. A shaky step forward. A deep breath and a gulp. However, if you know God is calling you, you must move forward.

Faith doesn’t always feel strong. In fact, it often feels like trembling hands and racing hearts. But faith is not the absence of fear—it’s movement in spite of it. This is the kind of faith God honors, this is the kind of faith that advances His Kingdom.

Let’s look at a few examples of faithful forward motion in Scripture. These aren’t fairytale heroes who always felt bold and sure—they were real people who chose obedience even when the path ahead felt risky or unclear.

Abraham: Moving Without a Map

Abraham’s story in Genesis 12 begins with a stunning command: “Go from your country, your people and your father’s household to the land I will show you.” (Genesis 12:1, NIV)

Not “Go to Canaan.” Not “Here’s a route, here’s your GPS.” Just “Go… to the land I will show you.”

Imagine packing up your life, your family, your future—and stepping into the unknown with no details, no destination, and no guarantees except God said so. Abraham didn’t wait for every detail to fall into place. He moved forward at God’s word. That’s faith.

Daniel: Standing Alone with Conviction

Fast forward to Daniel, exiled in Babylon—a godless culture, surrounded by compromise. Everyone around him had adjusted their standards. Daniel could’ve gone with the flow to keep his position and his comfort, but instead, Daniel “resolved not to defile himself” (Daniel 1:8), even though that meant standing almost completely alone. He was faithful in the small decisions—what he would eat, how he would pray—and God honored it.

Daniel shows us that forward motion in faith sometimes looks like staying planted in conviction while everyone else drifts. It may not be popular. It may cost you status or relationships. But if God has called you to stand—stand.

Esther: Courage in the Face of Risk

Esther’s story is one of the most well-known in Scripture. She was given a divine opportunity to influence a king and save her people. Stepping into that moment wasn’t glamorous, it was terrifying. She told Mordecai, “I will go to the king, even though it is against the law. And if I perish, I perish” (Esther 4:16). Esther had every reason to stay silent. Self-preservation would’ve been the easy choice. Faith compelled her to speak up—even when the cost could’ve been her life.

Sometimes moving forward in faith means putting it all on the line. It’s not reckless—it’s trusting that God’s hand is over the outcome.

Jesus: Obedience to the Cross

And of course, our ultimate example is Jesus. No one was more aware of the cost of obedience than Christ Himself. He knew the cross was coming. He knew the betrayal, the suffering, the agony. He even said, “Don’t you think I could call on My Father, and He would at once put at my disposal more than twelve legions of angels?” (Matthew 26:53). But Jesus didn’t call for a rescue. He submitted. He obeyed. He moved forward—for us.

“Not my will, but Yours be done.” (Luke 22:42)

Jesus teaches us that sometimes faith means walking straight into pain, into sacrifice—knowing that resurrection is coming, that purpose is on the other side, and that the Kingdom of God is worth it all.

Your Turn: Do Your Part

Each of these stories reminds us that the first step doesn’t always come with full clarity or confidence. But God doesn’t ask for perfect understanding—He asks for obedience.

What’s your move?

  • Is it a job change that doesn’t make sense on paper?
  • A conversation you’ve been avoiding?
  • A ministry you feel unqualified to start?
  • A boundary you need to hold, even if it’s unpopular?

Whatever it is, take the step. God’s provision meets our obedience. When we do our part—when we trust, move, stand, speak, obey—He always does His. Do you need provision for your step of faith? He’s a provider. Do you need protection for your step of faith? He’s your Protector. Do you need wisdom for your step of faith? He’s your infallible guide.

Scripture says, “The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.” (Exodus 14:14) Be careful: “still” does not mean stuck. Sometimes it means settled in trust as we keep stepping forward.

So take a deep breath. Gulp if you have to. But move forward. You’ll find that your treasure awaits on the other side of your obedience!

p.s. here’s my move of faith today! Launching a new ministry, Connect Mentoring Network. Friend, we are in this together – as I am asking you to step out, I am also stepping out! Let’s pray for each other!