Devotions to steady your soul and remind you of who you are in Christ.
Pause here for peace, perspective, and a deeper connection with the One who sees you, who knows you, who loves you.
Jesus is my Savior and our {Holland} house serves Him. I am so grateful for his grace and unwavering love. Growing a deeper friendship with Him is my greatest joy in life.
Join me for a moment of thoughtful devotion.
There’s a verse tucked into Hebrews that has been quietly stirring in my heart lately:
“God is not unjust; He will not forget your work and the love you have shown Him as you have helped His people and continue to help them.” – Hebrews 6:10
It’s easy to wonder if what we’re doing matters. The unseen faithfulness. The ordinary obedience. The quiet prayers whispered in the dark.
But God sees all of it.
This verse reminds me that He rewards the faithful—not the flashy, not the perfect, but the ones who keep showing up.
Lately, I’ve been thinking about what it means to lean all the way in to Jesus—not just when it's easy or convenient, but when it's hard, dry, or discouraging.
I don’t want to get to the end of my life and wonder what could’ve happened if I had truly gone all in.
If I had trusted Him more.
If I had taken Him at His word.
If I had given Him everything.
Because the truth is—He has plans for you. Yes, you.
Plans to use your life in ways that echo beyond today.
Plans that may require perseverance, grit, and grace.
But also plans that bring deep joy and eternal impact.
Life will still happen without intentionally leaning in.
But think of what a life it could be if you did.
He is in the details.
He sows each and every stitch, offering different paths.
It’s your choice which one you walk.
But one leads to more than just a full life—it leads to a fruitful one.
One where your ordinary becomes sacred.
One where your offering becomes impact.
One where your faith becomes sight.
Jesus never promised the path would be easy, but He did promise to be with us every step of the way.
And He notices. Every act of love. Every sacrifice. Every seed planted when no one is watching.
So today, friend, keep leaning in.
Keep pressing forward.
Keep saying yes to what He's asking of you—even if it feels small.
You are building something eternal.
And He will not forget it.
There’s a moment in Colossians that grounds me when I’m scrubbing pans or folding laundry for the third time in a day:
“Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters.” – Colossians 3:23
The truth is—servanthood doesn’t always feel holy.
It often feels ordinary. Hidden. Underappreciated.
It looks like wiping sticky counters again.
Cooking dinner after a long day, hoping someone notices.
Picking up the same socks, the same shoes, the same toys—again.
Speaking peace into the chaos of a household just trying to make it through bedtime.
And yet… this is sacred ground.
When you serve your family with a grateful heart, you're not just managing a home—you're building a safe haven.
When you choose to be gentle when you're tired, you're modeling the patience of Christ.
When you cook meals that nourish, you're offering more than food—you're offering love in edible form.
When you create a space that’s warm, welcoming, and safe, you’re giving your family a place where grace breathes freely.
You may not always hear “thank you.”
You may wonder if it even matters.
But God sees every hidden act of love.
And let me remind you: your invisible work in the home has eternal value.
You are not just serving your family—you are serving Jesus.
Let gratitude grow in the soil of your surrender.
Not because your work is easy, but because your heart is His.
And He is the One who turns simple service into Kingdom significance.
So fold that towel, cook that meal, pick up that sock… Not for applause, but for an audience of One.
Because when we serve with a grateful heart, even the mundane becomes ministry.
There's a really interesting passage in the book of James that has a detail I've never noticed before. It reads:
“Elijah was as human as we are, and yet when he prayed earnestly that no rain would fall, none fell for three and a half years. Then, when he prayed again, the sky sent down rain and the earth began to yield its crops.” – James 5:17-18
Elijah prayed it wouldn't rain.
And it didn't—for three and a half years.
Then he prayed it would.
And it did.
But something else happened… Crops grew.
If crops grew when the rain came, that suggests there were seeds in the ground. This story suggests that farmers were still sowing seeds in the dry dirt. Even though there was no rain, they kept planting.
I don't know about you, but prayer can sometimes feel like this for me. Like I'm sowing seeds in the desert.
But I've learned that often when it feels like nothing is happening physically, there is plenty that's happening spiritually. Even if you can't see it yet.
Personally, I want to have seeds already in the ground when the rain comes. My prayer is that even when our prayers don't seem to be making a difference, we'd keep sowing anyway, trusting the One who brings the rain.
Keep sowing, friend.
There’s a battle that doesn’t always look like a battle.
It happens quietly—in our thoughts, in the silence of the morning, in the moments we doubt who we are.
“My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me.” – John 10:27
Discernment isn’t always easy.
The enemy is crafty. He whispers lies that sound close to the truth:
“You’re not enough.”
“You’re falling behind.”
“You’ll never get it right.”
“No one sees you.”
And if we’re not paying attention, we start to agree with the voice that was never meant to guide us.
But Jesus—
Jesus doesn’t speak in shame or fear.
He speaks in peace, in truth, in love that draws you closer, not further away.
His voice might be quieter, but it’s steady.
It won’t rush you or guilt you.
It will always lead you toward freedom, not anxiety.
Grace, not comparison.
Conviction, not condemnation.
Discernment begins with knowing the difference.
We have to ask ourselves:
Who does this voice sound like?
Does it match the character of Jesus?
Is it rooted in truth or twisted in fear?
Because here’s the thing: Satan knows Scripture, but he uses it out of context to manipulate.
Jesus is the Word—and He uses it to bring life.
When your thoughts spiral, pause and ask:
“Is this what Jesus would say to me?”
If it isn’t—don’t give it room to grow.
Friend, you are not crazy for hearing the spiritual tension. That’s discernment.
But you don’t have to navigate it alone. The Holy Spirit lives in you to help you recognize truth from lies.
The enemy may be loud, but Jesus is Lord.
So today, tune your heart to His voice.
Let His truth drown out the lies.
And walk forward—not in fear, but in faith—knowing that the voice that calls you worthy, known, and loved is the only one that matters.
There’s a quiet comfort in Psalm 139 that never fails to move me:
“You knit me together in my mother’s womb… I am fearfully and wonderfully made… all the days ordained for me were written in Your book before one of them came to be.” – Psalm 139:13–14, 16
Think about that.
Before you ever took your first breath, God saw you.
Before you said your first word, He knew your voice.
Before anyone on this earth called you by name, He already had.
You are not here by accident.
You are not just another face in the crowd.
You are the intentional creation of a God who pays attention to every detail.
But maybe you’ve felt the pressure to measure up.
Especially online—where perfectly curated feeds, comparison traps, and highlight reels make you question if you're doing enough… or if you are enough.
Maybe you’ve felt like an imposter—like your words don’t matter, your story isn’t special, your calling is somehow “less than.”
You wonder if anyone is listening.
If your presence carries weight.
If you’re just another scroll-past.
But here’s the truth:
God isn’t measuring you by likes, shares, or how “together” your life appears.
He sees your heart.
He delights in your real, not your polished.
He’s in the timing of every open door and every closed one.
He’s in the small voice that nudges you to show up—even when you’re unsure. He’s in the comments left unseen, the prayers whispered behind a screen, the courage it takes to keep creating, showing up, and being faithful.
You are not an imposter. You are His.
And He’s in the details.
The way your mind works. The way your heart breaks for what matters. The way you love others when no one is watching.
Friend, you are deeply known, fully loved, and purposefully placed.
There is not a single detail of your life that escapes His care.
The same God who painted the skies and designed the seas crafted you, and calls you worthy—right where you are.
So take heart today. Slow down. Breathe deep.
And look again.
He’s already there.