Showing posts with label despair. Show all posts
Showing posts with label despair. Show all posts

Monday, September 28, 2026

Devotionals for the Heart: How to support people experiencing grief


You Lost Her Baby Too: A devotional for Grieving Grandparents
A devotional by Patti Schultz, Ed.D.

“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.”
—2 Corinthians 1:3-4 (NIV)

I have lost more babies than I have fingers.

I said goodbye to every one of them before I ever got to hold them. Each time, well-meaning people filled the silence with something, anything, to make the moment feel less unbearable. Words like these: “She's in a better place” and “At least you know you can get pregnant.” And “God needed another angel.” I nodded because I didn't have the strength to do anything else, and I tucked those words away in the same box where I keep the ultrasound pictures and the tiny hospital bracelets. The words are still there and they still sting.

What I wish someone had known, what I wish I had known, is tucked into two Bible verses most people skip past. In the Bible story about Job, his friends heard what happened to him and they rushed to support him. Job’s friends sat with him on the ground for seven days and seven nights. Scripture says, “No one said a word to him, because they saw how great his suffering was” (Job 2:13 NIV). Seven days. No talking script. No Bible verse tucked into a frozen meal. Just three men sitting in the dirt beside a man who had lost everything, letting his grief be the only thing in the room.

When I experienced grief after the loss of each of my babies, I didn't need anyone to explain why. I needed someone to sit on my kitchen floor with me while the chicken noodle soup went cold on the counter.

In the Bible, the Apostle Paul writes that God comforts us in our troubles so that we can turn around and comfort someone else with the very comfort we received (2 Corinthians 1:3-4). That verse means something different to a grandparent than it does to almost anyone else in your daughter's life. You are not just a bystander to her grief. You have grief of your own, comfort of your own, scars of your own from griefs long before this one. That comfort you were given, however it came to you, however long ago, is exactly what she needs from you now.

You may not know quite what to say to your daughter, or what to do with your own grief in all of this. You lost a grandchild too—sometimes more than one—and you are watching your own child carry a weight you cannot lift for her, no matter how much you wish you could.

Here is what passing that comfort forward can look like, in the ordinary hours of an ordinary week: Let her say the name out loud, even at year six, even at year sixteen. A due date will still ache. A song on the radio will still catch her off guard in the grocery store parking lot. Let it. Skip the reasons. Skip the plan, the purpose, the silver lining. Just say, “I don't understand this either. I'm here.” God never gave Job an explanation for his profound suffering. He gave him presence instead. That is still the better gift, and it is the comfort you can hand down.

Remember with her, not just for her. Ask about the memory she keeps returning to. She has already noticed who says the name and who changes the subject. Be gentle around other grandchildren. “At least you have the others” cuts deeper than silence ever could. Show up in the small, unglamorous way: A thoughtful text message on the anniversary. Sitting on the floor when there is nothing left to say. That kind of silent support is like Job's friends, all these centuries later, still sitting in the dirt beside someone they love.

You are grieving too, in your own quiet way. That matters to God as much as your daughter's grief does. The comfort you were given somewhere along the way was never meant to end with you. Stay close, stay soft, and let her know that whatever she feels, however long it lasts, she does not have to carry it alone. Neither do you.

Let’s Pray:

Dear God,

Be near to my daughter (or daughter-in-law) in the way only You can. Help me love her well while I grieve this too. Let the comfort You have given me somewhere in my own losses become the comfort I hand to her now.

In Jesus’ name, I pray.

Amen.

~*~
Songs of Reflection #1: “Blessings” by Laura Story (ASL cover by Meg W). Listen to it here.

Songs of Reflection #2:
“Sparrows” by Jason Gray (ASL cover by Amber Shorter). Listen to it here.

Songs of Reflection #3: “Draw Me Nearer” by Meredith Andrews. Listen to it here.

Song of Reflection #4: “My Prayer for You” by Alisa Turner. Listen to it here.

~*~
Note from Patti for you: If you or someone you love is walking through the loss of a grandchild, know that you are not walking alone. Feel free to share your own story or a memory with me at pattischultz.com. Our community is here to weep, and to hope, together.

~*~
Author Bio:

Dr. Patti Schultz’s inspiring journey weaves a tapestry of compassion, resilience, and divine hope. 


Formerly a public school principal, professor, teacher, and interpreter for the deaf, she now dedicates her life to a heartfelt ministry rooted in her personal experiences.

As a mother to three miracle boys here on Earth and a member of a heavenly soccer team, Patti’s story is one of unwavering faith and profound love. Her decade-long battle with infertility and recurrent loss fuels her deep compassion for grieving mothers, guiding them toward healing through the comforting embrace of Jesus Christ’s garment.

Patti’s gentle wisdom offers a safe haven for women navigating pain, reminding them they are never alone. Through her ministry, she seeks to envelop grieving mothers in divine comfort, encouraging hope, renewal, and the reassurance that God's love is always near, wrapping them in His compassionate hem as they walk the path to healing.

Living in northern Michigan, she cherishes precious moments with family and community, drawing strength from faith and connection.

~*~
Connect with Patti:
Website: pattischultz.com
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/dr.pattischultz/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Dr.Patti.Schultz
Email: dr.patti.schultz@gmail.com

Tuesday, September 22, 2026

"Praying God's Blessings in Christ as We Suffer" (book) by Dr. Lauri Hogle


The Story Behind Dr. Lauri Hogle’s book, Praying God's Blessings in Christ as We Suffer: Scripture Prayers for the Hardest Days:

Several years ago, after a second brain surgery that brought only partial relief, I lay in bed wrestling with unrelenting chronic pain.

Kind friends, wanting the best for me, would say they were praying for God’s favor and blessing so that the suffering would finally stop. Their words were full of love, yet each time I heard them I felt an anguished cry rise within me: But I already have His favor and blessing!

In the quiet of my tears, God reached into my hurting heart. He flooded me with the rich truths of Scripture and the voices of faithful hymn writers who had walked through their own valleys. Songs like “Great Is Thy Faithfulness” and “Blessed Assurance” became lifelines. Ephesians 1:3 exploded into living reality: “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places.” I began to see that the greatest blessings are not the absence of pain but the presence of Christ Himself—pardon, peace, adoption, eternal life, the indwelling Spirit, and a guaranteed future glory.

These truths did not remove my affliction, but they reframed it. They gave me language to pray when words failed and songs to sing when sorrow threatened to drown out hope. That experience birthed this book, Praying God's Blessings in Christ as We Suffer. I wrote it because I desperately needed these truths myself, and I know many others do too.

Too often, Christian teaching on suffering focuses primarily on asking God to take it away. While there is nothing wrong with crying out for relief, Scripture invites us into something deeper. Even in the darkest nights, we are called to remember what God has already given us in His Son (Jesus Christ). The Apostle Paul, writing from prison, could still praise God who “has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing.” If that was true for Paul in chains, it is true for us in chronic illness, grief, disability, or any form of ongoing tribulation.

This book is not a theological treatise or a step-by-step guide to “victorious living.” It is a lament prayer book. Each chapter draws from God’s Word and pairs it with hymns and prayers that help us speak Biblical truth to our souls when pain, fear, or doubt scream the loudest. Each chapter is filled with the honest tension many of us feel—prayers for earthly comfort colliding with the deeper reality of spiritual riches we already possess.

I wrote this book for fellow sufferers who know Jesus as Savior and Lord. Whether your pain is physical like mine, emotional, relational, or the heavy burden of watching a loved one endure hardship, these pages are for you. I also wrote it for those nearing the end of earthly life who wonder if greater tribulation awaits.

My prayer is that this book will function as a healing balm and a gospel trumpet for weary souls. I hope readers will discover, as I did, the power of praying Scripture back to God—thanking Him for His past faithfulness, His present mercies, and His future promises. I want sufferers to be able to sing with fresh confidence: “Blessings all mine and ten thousand beside!”

I hope the book helps shift our gaze from what we lack to what we possess in Christ. When chronic pain flares, when grief feels crushing, when the future seems frightening, may these prayers and songs anchor us in the unshakeable reality of our union with Jesus.

One of the old hymns included in the book says it beautifully: “Ten thousand blessings it contains/Divinely rich and free/or helpless, wretched, ruined man/Though vile and base as we.”

That is the heart of the gospel. It is not a message for the strong or the comfortable only. It is especially sweet for the weak, the afflicted, and the needy. I pray this book helps readers feel welcomed at the throne of grace, not as those who must first “prove” their worthiness or “fix” their circumstances, but as those already purchased by the blood of the Lamb.

Writing this book has been an act of worship born out of my ongoing chronic pain. It has forced me to preach the gospel to my own soul day after day. Some mornings I can barely whisper the prayers; other days I sing them through tears. But every time I return to these truths, my heart finds rest. My hope is that your heart will too.

If you are suffering today, know that you are not alone. Bring your tears and fears to the Lord. Let His Word wash over you as you pray. May you leave these pages more deeply convinced that you are blessed in Christ—truly, eternally, and presently—whatever your circumstances may be. And may we together “bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all His benefits” (Psalm 103:2).

That is why I wrote Praying God's Blessings in Christ as We Suffer: Scripture Prayers for the Hardest Days. Not to offer false hope of earthly ease, but to point us to the living Hope who holds us fast. May He use these prayers to comfort, strengthen, and sustain you as you walk through the valley, until we see Him face to face.

In Christ’s love,

Lauri A. Hogle, PhD

~*~
Author Bio:

Lauri A. Hogle, PhD, music therapist, music educator, and church musician, heads Singing Christ's Hope, a nonprofit ministry found at singchristhope.org. 


Her words and musical offerings have touched lives across the globe. 

Lauri's Bible study prayer books, including "Praying God's Blessings in Christ as We Suffer," "Near to God," "Praying God's Promises Into Suffering," "Singing the Gospel to Job," and a children's book, "In the Valleys of God's Love," are complemented by weekly playlist gifts for suffering Christian women.

Her lifelong passion is to glorify God through music, teaching, research, and writing. By God's gracious blessing, in many years of serious illness, her great joy is as wife, mother, and Nana.

~*~
Back cover copy for Lauri’s book: 


Amid chronic suffering, tribulation, or our life's final days, where does a Christian find hope? This poignant and powerful book invites you to discover the unshakable blessings already yours in Christ, within your deepest suffering and pain.

Written during Lauri’s journey of severe, chronic physical affliction, this book weaves together short lament prayers, Biblically grounded hymns, and Scriptures about God’s unending favor toward His beloved in Christ. This 90-day devotional is a tender companion for anyone facing trials, offering a pathway to sing and pray of God’s past, present, and future blessings to those united with Jesus.

Whether you’re enduring chronic suffering, fearing future tribulation, or seeking peace in life’s final moments, Praying God's Blessings in Christ as We Suffer is a healing balm for your soul. Let it lead you to cry, “Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits” (Psalm 103:2 ESV), as you rest in our faithful Lord’s continual blessings in Christ.

~*~
Connect with Dr. Lauri:

Monday, September 7, 2026

Devotionals for the Heart: What to do when you feel overwhelmed


Putting the Overwhelm on a Shelf
A devotional by Jessica Brodie

“Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.”—Matthew 6:34 (ESV)

Have you ever been so stressed out, overwhelmed, and anxiety-filled that you thought you were going to go mad with the turmoil?

I’ve been there! A lot of us have. My daughter recently started attending college as a freshman. I can only imagine how these kids feel having to deal with living in dorms and having all this freedom and yet also having to keep up with classes and not become overwhelmed.

Then there are the people who have just lost a job or a spouse, or been hit with a horrible health diagnosis, while life piles up around them. I imagine people living in nations overrun by war, famine, religious persecution, or political hostility. People who must worry about how to provide for their families in the midst of this turmoil. And then there’s the overwhelm many of us deal with just in regular, everyday life—the constant pressure of work and bills and family and responsibility. Maybe you’ve become weary in hearing all that talk about work-life balance, the need to be purposeful while also just getting through it all. It becomes overpowering at times and can make you feel like you’re drowning in the ocean.

It’s time for us to put the overwhelm on a shelf and trust that God is going to see us through it. This is all easier said than done, of course. Still, the metaphor of turning all that stress mess into a tangible item and placing it on a shelf, is a powerful one for me. I first learned how to do this about a decade ago when my young daughter who is diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder, was being helped by a wise counselor who said exactly that: Visualize putting it on a shelf. Take all the stuff swirling through your mind, all the fears, and imagine taking it in your hands, putting it in a box, and just sticking it on the shelf. “Tell yourself you can always come back to it later,” she counseled. “Later you can take it out and deal with it if you really want to, but right now the best thing you can do is just put it on the shelf.”

Her counselor’s wise advice resonated with me on the soul level because it’s exactly what Jesus Christ spoke about in The Holy Bible. He taught his followers in chapter six of the book of Matthew not to be anxious about our daily needs, for God will provide for us just as he does for the birds. There’s no point in worrying because it won’t add even an hour to our lives. Rather, we need to fix our eyes upon God’s Kingdom—that’s our real priority.

“Do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble,” Jesus said in Matthew 6:34 (ESV). It’s a message repeated throughout Scripture: Do not fear. Trust the Lord.

Fear is not just concern for your mortality; it’s also that burning, soul-crushing worry about how we’re going to get through a situation, the sort of worry that consumes us, getting in the way of everything else. That sort of fear can be paralyzing. It becomes a wall between us and the Lord.

Maybe we think worry is harmless. Maybe we scoff, “How can I not worry?” But if we realize the wall it builds—the wall that stands between us and our Creator (God), how it interferes with joy and hope and God’s purpose for us—it might make it easier to stuff that fear in a box and put it on the shelf so we can focus on the truly important.

I’m not sure who needs to hear this today. Perhaps we all do. I know I certainly do. But I hope you’ll name the worry in your heart, visualize putting it in a box, and set it aside. When you strip it of its power over you, the Lord replaces that space with more than you can imagine.

Let’s Pray: Dear Heavenly Father, some days it all seems like too much. My mind swirls with the press of it all. Help me surrender and lean on You, to have true faith that You are sovereign and will get me through anything in front of me right now. Help me to be still and know in the depths of my soul, in the entirety of my being, that You are everything, You have all the answers, and there is nothing on this earth that outweighs this. I love You, Lord. Help me, I pray. I give all of this to you. In Jesus’ name, I pray. Amen.

~*~
Song of Reflection #1: “No Fear” by Jon Reddick. Listen to it here.

Song of Reflection #2: “Everything” by Lauren Daigle. Listen to it here.

~*~
Author Bio: 

Jessica Brodie is an award-winning Christian novelist, journalist, editor, blogger, and writing coach. 


Her two Christian contemporary novels, The Memory Garden and Tangled Roots, are Amazon bestsellers and her third novel, Hidden Seeds, is out now and is a top release. Learn more about Jessica’s writing ministry and read her faith blog at http://jessicabrodie.com. 

She has a YouTube devotional, and you can also connect with her on Facebook, Instagram, and more. She’s also produced a free eBook, A God-Centered Life: 10 Faith-Based Practices When You’re Feeling Anxious, Grumpy, or Stressed. She is also the editor of the South Carolina United Methodist Advocate, the oldest newspaper in Methodism.

Friday, August 28, 2026

Devotionals for the Heart: Why we should pray to God when provoked


Provoked to Pray: What Do You Do with the Thing That Won’t Leave You Alone?
A devotional by Heidi Lewis-Ivey

“And her adversary also provoked her sore, for to make her fret, because the Lord had shut up her womb.”—1 Samuel 1:6 (KJV)

There’s a word most of us don’t like—provoked.

When we hear it, we think of something negative. Someone provoked me. Something set me off. It’s the word we use for irritation, for conflict, for the moment right before we say something we regret. We talk about being provoked to anger, provoked to violence, provoked to say the thing we can’t take back once it’s out of our mouths. Go back and think about the last time you used this word. I’d bet it wasn’t in a positive sentence.

And yet, if you trace this word through Scripture, you’ll find it doesn’t always point downward. Sometimes it points a person straight to the throne of God.

There’s a woman in the Bible whose whole story turns on this word. Her name is Hannah, and her story is found in 1 Samuel chapter 1. What happens to her—what’s done to her—is described using this exact word: provoked. But watch what she does with it. She doesn’t let it turn her bitter, or hard, or cynical—though she has every reason to. She lets it turn her toward God.

That’s the whole idea I want to sit with here: the same pressure that could break you can also be the very thing that drives you to your knees. The provocation doesn’t determine the outcome. What you do with it does.

Let’s explore this Bible story in the book of 1 Samuel, starting with the setting:

Hannah is married to a man named Elkanah, who loves her—the text makes that clear. But Elkanah has two wives, which was not God’s original design but was common in that culture. His other wife, Peninnah, has children. Hannah has none.

In that ancient world, a woman’s worth was often measured by her ability to bear children. So, Hannah isn’t just dealing with personal disappointment, she’s carrying a weight her whole community would have recognized, and in some cases, judged her for.

Peninnah knows it. 1 Samuel 1:6 (KJV) tells us Peninnah “provoked her sore, for to make her fret, because the Lord had shut up her womb.” This wasn’t occasional teasing. It happened year after year, every time the family went up to worship in the house of the Lord at Shiloh. Hannah’s pain had a source, and the source had a face, it was a person in her own household who knew exactly where to press.

Some of you know exactly what that’s like. Maybe it’s not a rival. Maybe it’s a coworker who never lets you forget your mistake, a family member who brings up the same wound at every gathering, or a voice in your own head that sounds suspiciously like someone from your past.

This wasn’t a one-time offense Hannah could shake off. It was a pattern, a season, where she had to keep showing up to the same feast, in front of the same rival, carrying the same wound, over and over again. Some of us aren’t dealing with a single provocation either. We’re dealing with a recurring one: the same argument at every family gathering, the same diagnosis update at every appointment, the same empty side of the bed every night, the same bill in the mailbox every month.

Hannah didn’t get to escape Peninnah. She was bound to that family, required by her faith to go up to Shiloh every year right back into the presence of the person who hurt her most. Many of us can’t escape our provocation either. We can’t quit that job yet. We can’t walk away from that family member. We can’t undo that diagnosis.

So, the real question Hannah’s story forces on us isn’t, “How do I get away from what provokes me?” For most of us, that’s not on the table. The question is: What am I going to do with it, since I have to keep facing it?

What Provokes Prayer

Provocation isn’t always sin, and it isn’t always someone else’s cruelty. Sometimes it’s just the ache of unmet longing, of delay, of grief and God can use that ache to move us toward Him.

God will use whatever gets your attention. For Hannah, it was a rival’s cruelty. For you, it might be a diagnosis, a prodigal child, a marriage that isn’t what you hoped, a bank account that won’t stretch far enough. The question was never whether you’d be provoked because life provokes everybody. The question is: Provoked toward what?

Peninnah and Hannah shared the same husband, the same household, the same yearly trip to Shiloh. But Peninnah had children and Hannah didn’t. That difference gave Peninnah daily intimate knowledge of exactly where Hannah was wounded, and she used it as a weapon rather than showing mercy. Hannah, with no equivalent advantage to strike back with, had only one real option for her pain and she chose the altar instead of retaliation. Two very different situations, but what stands out is what each woman did with what she had: one used her advantage to wound, the other brought her lack to God.

Hannah, provoked by a rival, becomes a woman of prayer. The provocation was real. The pain was real. But none of them let the provocation have the final word. They let it become the first word of a prayer instead.

What Provoked Prayer Looks Like

So, what does it look like when someone takes their provocation to God instead of letting it curdle into bitterness?

1 Samuel 1:10 (KJV) tells us this about Hannah: “And she was in bitterness of soul, and prayed unto the Lord, and wept sore.” Her bitterness didn’t disappear before she prayed. She didn’t clean herself up first or wait until she had the right words. She brought the bitterness with her into the presence of God.

1 Samuel 1:15 (KJV) gives us the phrase worth camping on: Hannah tells Eli, “I have poured out my soul before the Lord.” Poured out—not measured out, not carefully worded. Like a jar tipped all the way over, holding nothing back. Eli watches her lips moving with no sound coming out and assumes she’s drunk. That’s how undone this prayer looked from the outside. This wasn’t a tidy, church-appropriate prayer. It was a woman laying her whole broken heart out in the open, and it looked strange enough that a priest misread it entirely.

God is not asking us to compose ourselves before we come to Him. He’s asking us to come to Him. That’s the same invitation Jesus Christ gives in Matthew 11:28 (KJV). He says, “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” He doesn’t say come once you’ve set your labor down. He says come as you are, and He’ll meet you there.

Many of us think prayer has to be dignified that we need the right theology, the right vocabulary, our emotions under control, before we’re allowed to approach God. A lot of us have been trained, not by Scripture but by habit and tradition, to believe God only receives the well-organized version of our pain. Therefore, we come to Him with our hurt filtered and edited when what He’s looking for is the truth. Psalm 62:8 (KJV) puts it plainly: “Trust in him at all times; ye people, pour out your heart before him: God is a refuge for us. Selah.” God doesn’t say to come to Him after you’ve cleaned it up. He wants the unedited version of your prayers.

Provoked prayer isn’t neat. It isn’t quiet. Sometimes it’s tears with no words, like Hannah’s. I can remember my own seasons of sitting in God’s presence with nothing to say not because I had nothing to bring Him, but because the weight of it was too heavy for words. Just tears, silence, and a God who didn’t need me to explain myself before He understood. If that’s where you are, you’re in good company.

A Word on How to pray to God when you feel provoked 

It’s fair to ask: How do I do this? How do I take what’s provoking me and turn it into prayer instead of bitterness? Here are a few practical handles:

Name it out loud, to God, specifically.
Hannah didn’t pray a vague prayer. 1 Samuel 1:11 records the actual content of her vow. She names her condition, her affliction, and her request. Vague pain produces vague prayer. Specific pain, named honestly, produces the kind of prayer that pours out a soul.

Don’t wait until you feel spiritual enough to pray.
Hannah didn’t wait for her bitterness to pass she brought it into the prayer. Philippians 4:6 (KJV) says to bring everything to God “by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving” in everything, not after everything is resolved.

Let prayer be a place, not just a moment.
Hannah kept going back to Shiloh. For people who are provoked, prayer usually isn’t one dramatic outburst that fixes everything it’s practice, a return trip, or a place you keep going back to.

Bring your provocation to God before you bring it to people.
Hannah’s pain went to the altar before it went anywhere else. James 5:13 (KJV) asks, “Is any among you afflicted? let him pray.” Not, let him vent to everyone who’ll listen. That doesn’t mean you never talk to trusted people about what you’re carrying, but the reflexive move should be toward God first.

None of this requires a theology degree or perfect words. It requires what Hannah had: enough desperation to stop pretending, and enough faith to believe God was listening.

What Provoked Prayer Produces


Eli tells Hannah, “Go in peace: and the God of Israel grant thee thy petition that thou hast asked of him” (1 Samuel 1:17). Verse 18 adds something small but significant: “her countenance was no more sad.” This is important to note because it means Hannah was no longer sad about her situation before she’s even pregnant. Nothing had changed circumstantially, but something had shifted in her because she’d poured out her soul and trusted God with the outcome. Sometimes peace comes before provision. Sometimes prayer changes you before it changes your situation.

The story doesn’t stop there. Hannah conceives and names her son Samuel “Because I have asked him of the Lord” (1 Samuel 1:20). Samuel grows up to anoint Israel’s first two kings and hold a nation together in one of its most unstable seasons. His whole existence traces back to a woman who took her provocation to an altar instead of letting it turn into poison. Worth noting, too: The text says her answer came “in the process of time” (1 Samuel 1:20), not that same night. Lesson learned: If you’ve been praying a provoked prayer for a long time and you’re still in that in-between, remember her peace came before her pregnancy, not after. God sometimes gives peace before the answer because He wants you to trust Him, not just His timeline.

One more detail matters. When Hannah brings Samuel to Eli, she names publicly what happened “For this child I prayed” (1 Samuel 1:27) and then gives him back to God. Hannah said, “Therefore also I have lent him to the Lord” (1 Samuel 1:28). The very thing she was provoked to pray for, she surrenders the moment she receives it. Her prayer was never about winning an argument with Peninnah or proving something to her community. It was about giving God something He could use the difference between provoked prayer that stays selfish and provoked prayer that becomes worship.

I see the same pattern in ordinary lives, not just ancient ones. Some of the most fruitful ministries and faithful intercessors I know didn’t start out that way. They started out provoked by a loss, an injustice, or a need nobody else was meeting. Somebody buries a child and starts a ministry for grieving parents. Somebody survives an addiction and spends their life walking others out of the same pit. None of them would have chosen the provocation. But each one laid what was breaking them at an altar instead of letting it turn them hard and on the other side of that surrender, God did something with it they couldn’t have engineered on their own.

Where Is It Sending You?


Something in your life right now is probably provoking you. Maybe it’s a person, like Peninnah was for Hannah. Maybe it’s a circumstance, or a season of being hunted and misunderstood. Maybe it’s grief, delay, injustice, a diagnosis, or a silence from God that’s gone on longer than you expected.

You don’t get to choose whether you’ll be provoked. That’s just life in a fallen, unfinished world. None of us are exempt from it. But you do get to choose where the provocation sends you. It can turn you bitter, sharp-tongued and resentful—the way it could have turned Hannah toward Peninnah instead of toward God. It can turn you cynical about prayer altogether—so worn down by asking that you stop asking. It can isolate you, convince you that no one not even God really sees what you’re carrying.

Or it can send you to the altar of God. It can drive you to pour out your soul to Him without polish or pretense, trusting that the God who saw Hannah’s lips moving with no sound sees you too. It can turn you into someone who reaches out even when you have no right to expect anything. Someone who refuses to quiet down just because the crowd is uncomfortable with your desperation. Someone who keeps pressing even after it sounds like the answer is no.

So, here’s the question worth sitting with: What’s provoking and where is it sending you? If it’s sending you toward bitterness, toward silence, toward isolation, I want to invite you to let it turn. Not because someone’s telling you to, but because Hannah showed us there’s somewhere better to go with the pain to go.

Don’t let it make you bitter. Let it make you pray. And if that ache has no words yet that’s alright. Hannah’s lips moved and no sound came out, and God still heard her. You don’t need the right words. You just need to go to God.

Let’s Pray:

Lord,

Thank You that You don’t ask us to get ourselves together before we come to You. Thank You that You meet us in the mess, in the bitterness, in the ache we haven’t found words for yet.

You know what’s been provoking us, the face behind the pain, the weight we’ve carried year after year, the thing we’ve prayed about before and am still waiting on. We don’t ask You to explain the timing. We ask You to meet us in the waiting the way You met Hannah, with peace before the provision, with Your presence before the answer.

Our hearts are too heavy for words right now. You saw Hannah’s lips move with no sound, and You heard her. Hear what we can’t say out loud.

Turn what could make us bitter into what drives us to You instead. Where we’ve been holding onto resentment, loosen our grip. Where we’ve gone quiet instead of praying, give us the courage to pour it out. And whatever You do with what we bring You now, let it be for Your purposes not just our relief, but Your glory.

We pour out our heart and soul before You. Receive us as we are.

In Jesus’ name,

Amen.

~*~
Song of Reflection #1: “A Secret Place” by Karen Clark Sheard. Listen to it here.

Song of Reflection #2:
“The Lord’s Prayer” by Jubilee Worship (feat. Phil Thompson). Listen to it here.

Song of Reflection #3:
“Jireh” by Elevation Worship & Maverick City. Listen to it here.

Song of Reflection #4: “Take It to the Lord in Prayer” by Aeolians of Oakwood University. Listen to it here.

Song of Reflection #5: “Come Just As You Are” by Crystal Lewis. Listen to it here.

~*~
Author Bio:

Heidi Lewis-Ivey is an affirmed prophet and an internationally acclaimed speaker. 


She impacts audiences with her authenticity and bold style of delivery. She has had the opportunity to minister in Trinidad, St. Thomas USVI, Manchester and Liverpool (England).

Heidi is an award-winning and bestselling author. She is the author of Can I Rest Awhile? and Black Girl Cry: What Black Women Need to Know to Amplify Their Voices. She is a co-author in Soulful Prayers (Volume 1 and Volume 2) and Soulful Affirmations. Heidi is the convener of the Encountering the Courts of God movement and the founder of Visions International, a training ground for five-fold ministry gifts.

She holds a Master of Business Administration in Organizational Leadership from Norwich University and a Bachelor of Science in Management from Boston University. Heidi is the CEO of Nael & Associates Inc and franchise owner of Patrice & Associates recruiting firm. She is a member of the Pentimenti Women Writers Group, a former mentor with Year Up, former board member for Friends of Young Achievers, and a Diversity Equity and Inclusion Strategist.

Heidi is the proud aunt/great aunt of 14 nieces and nephews and two bonus nieces. They are her joy. The older nephews have become her protectors.

Heidi is an NFL football fan. As a child, she taught herself the game. In 2017 she won her NFL.com fantasy football league. Heidi is an avid reader (Audible listener) of romance novels, a lover of purses and handbags, and a tea snob who believes bling is always appropriate.

She lives in Boston, MA.

~*~
Connect with Heidi:
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/iamheidi01
LinkedIn: https://linkedin.com/in/heidi-lewis-ivey

Wednesday, August 26, 2026

Devotionals for the Heart: When you let God help you move the mountain


When the Mountain Won’t Move
A devotional by Kim McGovern

“The Sovereign Lord is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, he enables me to tread on the heights.”—Habakkuk 3:19 (NIV)

Are you so worn down that facing one more battle feels impossible?

Grief and endless demands can leave us staring at the ceiling at night, whispering into the dark, “I can't do this anymore.”

I carried that ache into a women’s retreat in the Colorado mountains, hoping the change of scenery might thaw my ice-cold, weary soul. But my grief felt as ancient and unyielding as the peaks around me—frozen beyond tears, untouched by the warmth I had come seeking.

On the first evening of the retreat, as voices rose in worship, I lifted my hands, not in adoration, but in surrender. My shoulders sagged under the weight of unanswered prayers as I begged God to break the hardened ground of my soul.

He met me there, not with spectacle but with a whisper strong enough to crack the ice within: “Daughter, I am fighting for you.” Not “I will fight.” Not “I fought.” But “I am fighting” at this very moment.

But how do you keep believing that God is fighting for you when everything in front of you still says otherwise?

The Old Testament prophet Habakkuk wrestled with that same question. Violence and injustice ran through his own nation, and God seemed to do nothing to stop it. So, Habakkuk dared to say the words most of us keep locked inside: “How long, Lord, must I call for help, but you do not listen?” (Habakkuk 1:2, NIV).

God’s answer unsettled Habakkuk. Judgment would come to God’s people through a violent foreign army soon to sweep across the land. Still, he did not walk away. Habakkuk chose to watch, wait, and stay in conversation with God until hope stirred again.

God did not remove the threat or shorten the long wait ahead for His people. The danger still loomed on the horizon, and nothing in front of Habakkuk had changed. Yet neither had God's promise that “the righteous person will live by his faithfulness” (Habakkuk 2:4, NIV). He called Habakkuk to trust Him in the middle of it, and as the prophet kept bringing his fears and questions to God, trust slowly took root again.

By the end of his prayer, Habakkuk envisioned trust not as escape from the climb but as strength to keep walking, like a deer steady on rocky heights. The Bible says in Habakkuk 3:19 (NIV), “The Sovereign Lord is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, he enables me to tread on the heights.” God does not always move the mountain in front of us—but He does give us deer’s feet to climb it.

Maybe your mountain won't move either. Grief lingers. The marriage hangs by a thread. Responsibilities crush you, and loneliness refuses to lift. You have prayed, you have worshiped, you have poured out your heart—and still the path stretches steep and unrelenting before you. Take heart, friend. The same God who steadied Habakkuk and met me in my own dark night, walks with you now. He doesn’t ask you to be strong enough; He gives strength for each step, just enough for today, and then the next.

Our strength begins where Jesus Christ won our victory. At the cross, He climbed the steepest mountain we never could, bearing the full weight of our sin and death. And because He conquered that ultimate summit, rising from the grave on the third day, He now gives us sure feet for every climb we will ever face.

We are not promised that every earthly battle will turn out the way we hope, but in Christ we hold an eternal victory that cannot be taken from us. Nothing can separate us from Him—no failure, no heartbreak, not even the deepest grief. What Jesus completed on the cross holds firm forever.

The mountains still stood outside my window the next morning, as did many of the burdens I had carried into the retreat. But something within me had begun to shift. The ice around my heart was cracking. For the first time in a year, tears flowed freely as God began to thaw the frozen places within me. My circumstances had not changed, but I had. I left knowing I was no longer facing the climb alone.

Your mountain may not move today. But the Sovereign Lord is your strength. He gives you deer’s feet to take the next step when the path feels impossible.

Let's Pray:

Heavenly Father,

When grief lingers, prayers seem unanswered, and the mountain before us remains unmoved, remind us that You have not abandoned us. Thank You that in Jesus, the victory has already been won—one we would never achieve on our own. Help us trust You in the waiting and find our strength in You as we take the next step in faith. In Jesus’ name, I pray. Amen.

Song of Reflection #1: “Trust in You” by Lauren Daigle. Listen to it here.

Song of Reflection #2: “Into the Sea (It’s Gonna Be Ok)” by Tasha Layton. Listen to it here.

Song of Reflection #3: “Worn” by Tenth Avenue North. Listen to it here.

Song of Reflection #4: “Battles” by The Afters. Listen to it here.

Song of Reflection #5: “Fighting for Me” by Riley Clemmons. Listen to it here.

Song of Reflection #6:
“Victory Belongs to Jesus” by Todd Dulaney. Listen to it here.

Song of Reflection #7:
“Move Another Mountain” by Helen Baylor. Listen to it here.

~*~
Author Bio:

Kim McGovern is passionate about helping women reorient their hearts to the uninterruptible love of Jesus Christ. 


A former IT professional turned writer, she meets women in the messy middle of faith—where grief, joy, doubt, and hope often collide. Her work draws from decades of ministry leadership, special needs advocacy, and personal seasons of surrender that deepened her dependence on God's presence.

Kim's writing has been featured by Proverbs 31 Ministries, Encouragement for Today, Joyful Life Magazine, (in)courage ministries, Truly Magazine, and numerous other faith-based publications.

She and her husband savor the quiet rhythms of life on Florida's west coast in Homosassa, where the river serves as their backyard playground. They have four grown children and grandchildren who daily remind them that the best stories are still being written by God's grace.

~*~
Connect with Kim:
Website: https://kimmcgovern.com/
Substack: https://kimmcgovern.substack.com/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/_kim.mcgovern/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/KimEMcGovern/

Monday, August 24, 2026

Devotionals for the Heart: How to sit in someone's sorrow and share hope


A Love that Won’t Try to Fix Anything
A devotional by Patti Schultz, Ed.D.

“Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep.”
—Romans 12:15 (NKJV)

There is a love that never tries to fix anything. It pulls up a chair. It sits down in someone else's sorrow and refuses to leave early. Scripture gives that love a name.

Grief rarely knocks. It just arrives; however it wants, and it never leaves the way it came. Denial doesn't announce itself. It shows up in small, harmless-looking ways: two cups of coffee poured out of habit before she remembers or a hand reaching for the phone to call someone who won't answer. This is not foolishness. It is a heart taking in only as much truth as it can hold. If you love someone in this fog, don't correct it. Just sit with her.

Then anger comes, and it comes hot. Her fists clench. Her questions grow edges. Why this? Why now? This fire is usually love with nowhere left to go. I've learned it doesn't need to be tidied up. It just needs room to burn.

Bargaining follows close behind, the quiet negotiations that circle back at two in the morning. What if we had caught it sooner? What if that last conversation had gone differently? These thoughts rarely lead anywhere, and they do not have to. They only need somewhere safe to be spoken aloud, and sometimes that somewhere is simply you, listening without trying to answer.

Depression settles in without asking permission. It moves into her shoulders, into her mornings, into the space behind her eyes. There is no silver lining that fits here. What she needs is someone willing to sit down inside the weight with her, unafraid of the quiet.

And somewhere in there, unevenly and without a schedule, acceptance arrives. Not because the loss shrinks but because she learns to carry it differently. It rarely comes on the timeline anyone expects, and no one should feel late for it. I learned all of this in a season I never would have chosen. I was moving through recurrent pregnancy loss, one IVF cycle after another, grief tucked into ordinary moments: a grocery aisle, a baby shower I couldn't skip, and the silence after another test result.

One cold evening I returned to a support group, to show a young woman how to compound or mix her own in vitro fertilization (IVF) injection medication. Her hands were shaking, just as mine had been through the years. I expected this support group, this task, this assistance would be too emotionally hard for fragile me. Instead, I felt a peace I hadn't felt in years, not because my own grief had lifted, but because it had finally found somewhere to go. Holding her hand steady, I watched two griefs sit in the same small room without either one needing to leave.

That is the day Romans 12:15 stopped being a verse to me. It became something I lived. To mourn with those who mourn is to walk into someone's sorrow and stay a while. No agenda. No timeline. No requirement that she feel better before you're willing to sit down. This is love with its sleeves rolled up.

Let's Pray:

Lord, teach us to sit before we speak. Give us the courage to stay in rooms that feel too heavy, and the humility to receive comfort when we are the ones grieving. Where we are angry, meet us gently. Where we are numb, meet us patiently. And when you place someone in our path who is hurting, let our presence be enough. Let it look like You. In Jesus' name, I pray. Amen.

~*~
Song of Reflection #1: “Rest On Us” (feat. Brandon Lake & Eniola Abioye) | Maverick City Music | UPPERROOM | TRIBL Listen to it here. 

Song of Reflection #2: “Way Maker” by Leeland (ASL cover by Deaf Millennial Project). Listen to it here.

Song of Reflection #3:
“Build My Life” by Pat Barrett (ASL cover). Listen to it here.

Song of Reflection #4: “Sound of Surviving” by Nichole Nordeman. Listen to it here.

~*~
Author Bio:

Dr. Patti Schultz’s inspiring journey weaves a tapestry of compassion, resilience, and divine hope. 


Formerly a public school principal, professor, teacher, and interpreter for the deaf, she now dedicates her life to a heartfelt ministry rooted in her personal experiences.

As a mother to three miracle boys here on Earth and a member of a heavenly soccer team, Patti’s story is one of unwavering faith and profound love. Her decade-long battle with infertility and recurrent loss fuels her deep compassion for grieving mothers, guiding them toward healing through the comforting embrace of Jesus Christ’s garment.

Patti’s gentle wisdom offers a safe haven for women navigating pain, reminding them they are never alone. Through her ministry, she seeks to envelop grieving mothers in divine comfort, encouraging hope, renewal, and the reassurance that God's love is always near, wrapping them in His compassionate hem as they walk the path to healing.

Living in northern Michigan, she cherishes precious moments with family and community, drawing strength from faith and connection.

~*~
Connect with Patti:
Website: pattischultz.com
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/dr.pattischultz/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Dr.Patti.Schultz
Email: dr.patti.schultz@gmail.com

Friday, June 26, 2026

Devotionals for the Heart: Why God is our stable Rock in troubled times


God is My Rock and My Fortress

A devotional by Heidi Lewis-Ivey

“The Lord is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust; my buckler, and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower.”
—Psalm 18:2 (KJV)

There's a verse I keep returning to when everything feels unsteady.

King David didn’t write this verse (Psalm 18:2) from a place of comfort. He wrote it after years of being chased, betrayed, and nearly killed. He wrote this verse after watching the ground shift under him over and over again. What he landed on, after all of that, wasn't a strategy or a self-improvement plan. It was not a person. He landed on the Lord. David didn’t say, “the Lord helped me build something stable.” He said, “The Lord is my rock.” The difference is everything not “God helped me get stable,” but “God is my stability.” David didn't build it. He didn't earn it. He just stopped looking elsewhere and stood on what was already holding him.

That’s the difference I want to sit in today.

Notice how many words David uses to say the same thing: Rock. Fortress. Deliverer. Strength. Buckler. Horn of salvation. High tower. Seven images, one truth, said seven different ways.

I don't think that's poetic excess. I think it's what happens when one word isn't enough to hold what you're trying to say. When you’ve been steady in some ways and shaken in others, strong in some ways and terrified in others, you reach for every word you have because no single image captures the whole of what you need God to be.

A rock holds your weight. A fortress keeps danger out. A deliverer reaches in and pulls you from where you are. A high tower lets you see what’s coming before it arrives. David needed all of it because life doesn’t threaten you in just one way. It comes at you from every direction, and so his language for God had to come from every direction too.

Here's what stands out to me most: David doesn't say God gave him a rock. He says God is the rock. That’s not a small distinction. A rock you’re given can be taken away. God the “rock” cannot. If my stability depends on a job, a relationship, a season of life going well, then the moment any of it shifts, my stability goes with it. But if my stability is God himself, nothing that changes around me can touch the foundation because the foundation was never any of those things to begin with.

I think this is why so many of us feel unstable even when nothing is technically wrong. We've built our sense of safety on things that were never built to hold that weight such as: achievement, other people's approval, the absence of conflict, the illusion of control. Those things shift constantly because they were never rocks. They were just things that looked solid until the weather changed and we realized they were like sinking sand.

David is naming something different. He says, “My God, my strength”. He isn't crediting his resilience or his track record. Not in how well he’s holding it together. He’s naming where the strength lives: in God, and nowhere else. The Apostle Paul said in 2 Corinthians 12:9 (KJV), “for my strength is made perfect in weaknesses.”

I want to be honest about something: Saying “the Lord is my rock” doesn't make the storm disappear. Remember: David wrote this after the danger, not instead of it. The men were still after him. The years of running were still real. The fear in the moment it was happening was not fake just because he later wrote a psalm about trusting God through it. Faith here isn’t the absence of fear, it’s what David reached for in the middle of the fear.

That matters, because I think a lot of us quietly believe that needing to lean on God this hard means something has gone wrong with our faith. It hasn’t. King David, a man after God’s own heart (Acts 13:22), needed seven different metaphors to describe how badly he needed somewhere solid to stand. If he needed that many, we’re allowed to need ours too. One of my favorite places to stand is Romans 8:18 (KJV). It says, “For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.”

Let’s look at our anchor text (Psalm 18:2) again and focus on where David wrote these words: in whom I will trust. That phrase sits in the middle of the verse and it’s easy to read past it, but it's doing a lot of work. Allow me to explain: Trust isn't a feeling you wait for. It’s a decision you make, often while the feeling is nowhere close. David didn’t say “in whom I feel safe” he said, “in whom I will trust.” Future tense. A choice being made in the middle of the hard place that hadn't been resolved yet. He was choosing to trust the rock before he could fully feel its solidity under his feet.

That’s most of what trust looks like, if I'm honest. Not the calm certainty we picture, but the decision to keep standing on something you can’t fully verify yet because you’ve decided it’s trustworthy, not because the ground has stopped shaking. My late pastor used to tell me, “Faith is not needing to know the details.” We learn to trust God when we can’t see nor trace Him.

If you’re in a season where everything you used to lean on feels unreliable—people, plans, even your own resolve—I don't think the answer is to try harder to make those things solid again.

I think the invitation is the same one David found his way to. Stop asking the shifting things to hold your weight. Instead stand on the thing that was never going to move. Not because it will remove what you're facing. David still had men after him. The storm doesn't always pass just because you’ve named your rock correctly.

But you can be in a storm and still be standing on something solid. That’s not nothing. That might be everything. My rock. My fortress. My deliverer. My strength. My high tower. My buckler. My horn of salvation.

Let’s say it the way David did with all seven words because one was never going to be enough. Let these words be true before it fully feels true because that’s where trust starts. Not at the end of the storm, but in the middle of it, on a rock that was never the one shaking to begin with.

Let’s Pray:

Lord,

You are my rock, my fortress, my deliverer. You are my God, my strength, the one in whom I choose to trust not because I always feel it, but because I have decided You are trustworthy. You are my buckler, the horn of my salvation, my high tower.

I confess that I have spent seasons leaning on things that were never built to hold my own strength, other people's approval, plans that felt solid until they weren’t. Forgive me for asking shifting things to do what only You can do. Teach me to lay my weight down on You instead, even when I cannot yet feel the ground beneath me.

I will not pretend the storm isn’t real. The danger David faced didn’t disappear just because he knew where his strength came from, and mine may not either. But let me be like him—afraid and trusting at the same time, shaken and standing at the same time, in the middle of the storm and still fixed on something that isn’t moving.

Where I am unstable, be my rock. Where I am exposed, be my fortress. Where I cannot save myself, be my deliverer. Where I have no strength left, be my strength. Where I need to see what’s coming, be my high tower.

I will trust You. Not because everything is resolved, but because You have never once stopped being who You said You are.

In Jesus’ name,

Amen.

~*~
Song of Reflection #1: “Cornerstone” by Hillsong Worship. Listen to it here.

Song of Reflection #2: “Great God” by Tasha Cobbs Leonard. Listen to it here.

Song of Reflection #3: “My Help (Cometh from the Lord)” by VaShawn Mitchell (ft. Maranda Curtis). Listen to it here.

Song of Reflection #4:
“Way Maker” by Sinach. Listen to it here.

Song of Reflection #5: “He Will Hold Me Fast” by Keith & Kristyn Getty. Listen to it here.

~*~
Author Bio:

Heidi Lewis-Ivey is an affirmed prophet and an internationally acclaimed speaker. 


She impacts audiences with her authenticity and bold style of delivery. She has had the opportunity to minister in Trinidad, St. Thomas USVI, Manchester and Liverpool (England).

Heidi is an award-winning and bestselling author. She is the author of Can I Rest Awhile? and Black Girl Cry: What Black Women Need to Know to Amplify Their Voices. She is a co-author in Soulful Prayers (Volume 1 and Volume 2) and Soulful Affirmations. Heidi is the convener of the Encountering the Courts of God movement and the founder of Visions International, a training ground for five-fold ministry gifts.

She holds a Master of Business Administration in Organizational Leadership from Norwich University and a Bachelor of Science in Management from Boston University. Heidi is the CEO of Nael & Associates Inc and franchise owner of Patrice & Associates recruiting firm. She is a member of the Pentimenti Women Writers Group, a former mentor with Year Up, former board member for Friends of Young Achievers, and a Diversity Equity and Inclusion Strategist.

Heidi is the proud aunt/great aunt of 14 nieces and nephews and two bonus nieces. They are her joy. The older nephews have become her protectors.

Heidi is an NFL football fan. As a child, she taught herself the game. In 2017 she won her NFL.com fantasy football league. Heidi is an avid reader (Audible listener) of romance novels, a lover of purses and handbags, and a tea snob who believes bling is always appropriate.

She lives in Boston, MA.

~*~
Connect with Heidi:
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/iamheidi01
LinkedIn: https://linkedin.com/in/heidi-lewis-ivey

Monday, June 22, 2026

Devotionals for the Heart: When God allows you to experience tough times


When we are pressed hard but not crushed in despair
A devotional by Patti Schultz, Ed.D.

"We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed."
—2 Corinthians 4:8-9 (NIV)

Can I sit with you for a minute?

I know summer has arrived. I can see it. The evenings are longer, the neighbors out on their lawns, the kids with their popsicles and their noise. Maybe you are watching all of it from somewhere that still feels very far away. Maybe you are doing the thing where you smile at the right moments and show up where you're supposed to, and nobody quite knows how much you are carrying just to get through an ordinary day.

I see you.

There is something about the brightness of it, the way the world just keeps going, relentlessly cheerful. Like everyone else received an invitation to feel alive this season, and yours got lost somewhere. Like joy is happening just on the other side of a window you cannot quite open. You are not behind. You are just in it. And it landed here, in June, uninvited and unimpressed by the weather.

There is a passage I keep returning to in seasons like this. Not because it ties anything up neatly, but because it doesn't try to. The Bible says we are hard pressed, but not crushed. Perplexed, but not in despair. Struck down, but not destroyed. Two words keep catching me every time I read this verse: but not.

Not, “it's okay now.” Not, “the hard part is over.” Just “you are still here.” And that is not nothing. That is, in fact, everything. And so is God. Still here. Not in a hurry with you. Not watching the calendar. He hasn't forgotten a single thing about what this has cost you.

I wonder if somewhere in this summer, hope might find its way to you in the quiet ways it tends to. Not announced. Not dramatic. Just a moment that catches you off guard, where something still feels like something. A conversation that goes longer than you expected. An evening that is just soft enough. A small, unremarkable thing that reminds you that you are still capable of being reached.

I think of the years I spent grieving children I never got to hold. The ones lost before I could meet them, and the one who was promised to me and then taken away. I remember sitting in a nursery I had barely begun that I had to quietly dismantle, certain that grief like that simply does not get redeemed, that some losses just sit there forever, unanswered. In a way, they still do. I did not get the ending I prayed for. But somewhere in the unraveling, I found that I had not actually been let go of. God did not rush in with an explanation or a replacement. He just stayed. He stayed through the waiting rooms, the empty rooms, the rooms I could not walk into for a while. That is the part I did not expect: not that the ache would disappear, but that I would slowly become someone who could carry it without being consumed by it. Hard pressed, yes. Still not crushed. I say this not as someone watching from a distance, but as someone who has waited through summers like this one.

I do not think hope means the pain is gone. Maybe it just means you are still reachable. Maybe that is enough to carry into today. Not healing. Not answers. Just the quiet possibility that you are held—even now, even here, even in the middle of a summer that arrived before you were ready.

~*~
Let’s Pray:

God, I'm tired in a way that's hard to explain to people. Summer showed up and I'm still here. Still in this. I'm not asking You to rush it or fix it into something pretty. I just need to know You're close. That You see what this actually looks like from the inside. Hold what I can't. And when something like hope starts to come, help me recognize it. Even if it's small. Even if it's quiet. I'm still here. And I know that matters to You.

In Jesus’ name, I pray.

Amen.

~*~
Song of Reflection #1: “It Is Well” (Acoustic version) by Kristene DiMarco. Listen to it here.

Song of Reflection #2: “Come As You Are” by Crowder (Cover by Vanessa Magnon in ASL). Listen to it here.

Song of Reflection #3: “Steady My Heart” by Kari Jobe (cover in SASL Translation by St. Vincent School for the Deaf). Listen to it here.

Song of Reflection #4: “Just Be Held” by Casting Crowns. Listen to it here.

~*~
Author Bio:

Dr. Patti Schultz’s inspiring journey weaves a tapestry of compassion, resilience, and divine hope. 


Formerly a public school principal, professor, teacher, and interpreter for the deaf, she now dedicates her life to a heartfelt ministry rooted in her personal experiences.

As a mother to three miracle boys here on Earth and a member of a heavenly soccer team, Patti’s story is one of unwavering faith and profound love. Her decade-long battle with infertility and recurrent loss fuels her deep compassion for grieving mothers, guiding them toward healing through the comforting embrace of Jesus Christ’s garment.

Patti’s gentle wisdom offers a safe haven for women navigating pain, reminding them they are never alone. Through her ministry, she seeks to envelop grieving mothers in divine comfort, encouraging hope, renewal, and the reassurance that God's love is always near, wrapping them in His compassionate hem as they walk the path to healing.

Living in northern Michigan, she cherishes precious moments with family and community, drawing strength from faith and connection.

~*~
Connect with Patti:
Website: pattischultz.com
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/dr.pattischultz/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Dr.Patti.Schultz
Email: dr.patti.schultz@gmail.com

Wednesday, June 17, 2026

Devotionals for the Heart: What to do when everything is falling apart


Encouraging Yourself in the Lord When Everything Falls Apart

A devotional by Erica N. Bryant

“And David was greatly distressed; for the people spake of stoning him, because the soul of all the people was grieved, every man for his sons and for his daughters: but David encouraged himself in the Lord his God.”—1 Samuel 30:6 (KJV)

When trials hit you out of nowhere or if you find yourself at a low point—and we all have them—the weight can feel entirely overwhelming. In those moments when your foundations are shaken, you need to encourage yourself in the Lord. It is not just a good idea; it is a spiritual necessity.

In 1 Samuel 30:1-8, during one of the darkest chapters of his life, David gives us a powerful, practical pattern to follow when we don't know where else to turn.

Before he was king, David had set up a temporary residence in Ziklag while on the run from Saul. He wasn't alone; he was surrounded by 600 fierce, elite warriors and their households. These men had started out as broken, indebted outcasts hiding in caves. Still, over the years they had married, raised their children, and grown into a tight-knit family. Read about this in 1 Samuel 22:1-2, 1 Samuel 27:3, and 1 Chronicles 12:1-2. One day, David and his fighting men returned home from the battlefield only to discover absolute devastation. The Amalekites had raided the area. They had attacked Ziklag, burned it to the ground, and captured the wives, children, and everyone else, carrying them away to an unknown place.

When reading this account, the pain these men felt is almost palpable. The Bible tells us they wept aloud until they were physically too weak to cry anymore. To make matters worse, David’s personal pain was compounded by a terrifying betrayal. Not only were his own wives and children taken away, but his faithful followers—the men he had led, prayed with, and fought with—had now become an angry mob insistent on stoning him. He was entirely alone, facing total loss and the threat of death.

But right there in the midst of his pain, we find one of the most powerful phrases in Scripture is found in 1 Samuel 30:6 (KJV). It says, “But David encouraged himself in the Lord his God.” In the presence of God the Father, David was strengthened and fortified, emboldened to take the next steps. True biblical encouragement is not about practicing self-reliance, counting on your own willpower, or having confidence in your ability to pull yourself out of a pit. To encourage yourself in the Lord is to reach out to Him with urgency and fervor, knowing that He will lift you by His divine power and strength when your own has failed.

If you are facing a Ziklag season today, David's experience shows us a way to navigate the pain.

Let’s read and reflect on these three steps:

Step #1: Go Ahead and Cry. It's Okay.

Crying is not a sign of a lack of faith. It can be cathartic and healing. Know that God cares deeply for you. He knows about every heartbreak, every devastation, and every bit of pain you have faced. He has accounted for every single tear you’ve shed. He is not unaware of your suffering. He sees, He knows, and He is working on your behalf. The Bible says in Psalm 56:8 (NKJV), “You number my wanderings; Put my tears into Your bottle; Are they not in Your book?”

Step #2: Remind Yourself of God’s Faithfulness

When your current circumstances look bleak, you must intentionally redirect your focus. The love of the Lord is unfailing, and you can count on Him to be there in every circumstance. Remind yourself of that! Remembering what God has done in the past can help you hold on during difficult times. David knew this, and he often remembered past victories to help him overcome the immediate challenges he faced, anchoring his hope in what the Lord had already done.

King David said in 1 Samuel 17:37 (NKJV), “The Lord, who delivered me from the paw of the lion and from the paw of the bear, He will deliver me from the hand of this Philistine.”

Step #3: Talk to God and Get the Plan

Do not let your pain paralyze you or drive you to make rushed decisions. In the midst of his grief, David inquired of the Lord. He prayed and asked God whether he should pursue the invading troops and whether he would succeed. God met him in that place of prayer, affirmed David’s course of action, and assured him that he would have divine success. In times of intense pain and uncertainty, follow David's lead: pray. Talk to God and let Him lead the way. Through His Word and His Holy Spirit, God will tell you whether to move or wait, go or stay, pursue or avoid. Follow His leading, and you will have divine success.

The Bible says in 1 Samuel 30:8 (NKJV), “So David inquired of the Lord, saying, “Shall I pursue this troop? Shall I overtake them?” And He answered him, “Pursue, for you shall surely overtake them and without fail recover all.”

If you are standing in the middle of a broken situation today, remember that the story isn't over. Go ahead and cry; God knows and understands your tears. But when you are ready, dry your eyes, seek the presence of your Heavenly Father, and steel your resolve to encourage yourself in the Lord!

Let’s Pray:

Dear Heavenly Father,

Thank You for being a God who sees and understands everything I encounter. I am grateful for Your presence during times when I feel overwhelmed, exhausted, and uncertain about the future. In those moments, help me to turn to You for the strength and encouragement I need to keep moving forward. Remind me of the victories You’ve brought into my life before. Give me with a clear plan to move forward and the resolve to follow Your guidance, trusting that You are actively working on my behalf.

In Jesus' name, I pray.

Amen.

~*~
Song of Reflection #1: “Encourage Yourself” by Donald Lawrence & The Tri-City Singers. Listen to it here.

Song of Reflection #2: “Just Cry” by Mandisa. Listen to it here.

Song of Reflection #3: “You Are” by Virtue. Listen to it here.

Song of Reflection #4: “Promises” (feat. Joe L Barnes & Naomi Raine) by Maverick City | TRIBL. Listen to it here.

Song of Reflection #5:
“Everything Falls” by Fee. Listen to it here.

Song of Reflection #6:  “That’s Who You Are” (Original song by Megan Tibbits). Listen to it here.

Song of Reflection #7:  “Hold Us Together” by H.E.R. and Tauren Wells (Hope Mix). Listen to it here.

~*~
Author Bio:

Erica N. Bryant is a passionate Bible teacher, speaker, and author who desires to see believers live in the complete freedom and joy of the Holy Spirit. 


As the founder of Sparrow's Song Ministries, Erica invites a community of believers to get to know God by falling in love with His Word. Through Bible study resources, devotionals, teaching, and mentorship, Sparrow's Song encourages others to grow in intimacy with God and walk daily in the power of His Holy Spirit. She began The Word W.O.R.K.S. campaigns to help believers walk in Wholeness, Obedience, Righteousness, and Kingdom Success.

Erica is a writer with several published works including devotionals for adults and children, topical and textual Bible studies, and Scripture journals. In her debut book, Dwell: Living Life Fully Knowing that the Holy Spirit Lives in You, Erica draws from her own journey of healing from childhood trauma, rejection, and the struggles of fear and anxiety. With honesty and hope, she invites readers to embrace the life-giving truth that God's Spirit resides within them. Erica believes that when you know the Holy Spirit dwells in you, everything changes.

Erica is a passionate speaker who effectively communicates God’s Word with clarity and conviction. She speaks a relevant word to hearers and ministers to their hearts, inspires practical application, and empowers them to grow in faith and purpose.

Erica is a devoted wife and loving mother who actively serves in various roles at Strait Gate Deliverance Center.

Ultimately, she is just a girl in love with God and she is a soldier for Jesus Christ.

Tuesday, June 2, 2026

Interview with Nichole J. Suvar about her new nonfiction book


Interview with Nichole J. Suvar about her book, I Don't Have to Hold It All Together: Cultivating the Peace of Eden When Feeling Overwhelmed

Alexis: Why did you write this book? Share the story behind its creation.

Nichole: Anxiety has been a part of me for as long as I can remember.

I have memories of panic attacks in early elementary school. It wasn't until I was 36 years old that I received a diagnosis of generalized anxiety disorder and major depression. At that time, I started what I call a healing journey. I saw a doctor for medication, started seeing a counselor, and began learning tools that I could use to help me address this overwhelming anxiety.

One thing that kept coming back to me as I went through this healing journey was thinking about Eden and how absolutely lovely and perfect it had to have been. Coupled with my struggle with an anxiety disorder, was perfection, and the striving for control. Because we believe that when we can control things, it helps us feel less anxious.

I would often ask myself, what part of this life that I'm experiencing right now was good back in Eden, but now it's just a little distorted because of the fall.

And because I was thinking through that quite a bit, it led me to think about different areas that God has left here for us, different attributes of Eden, that we can cultivate in our lives to better understand our Father, our Creator, and to know His peace more deeply.

Alexis: In your book, you talk about God and His creation. How did your faith in God impact your writing of this book?

Nichole: The only reason I wrote this book is because of Jesus Christ. I tried for years to manage this anxiety on my own. I thought I had to get it all figured out and had to get myself together before I could be of any use in the Kingdom of God.

Because of that, I wasn't taking it all to the Father (God) and asking Him to help me relieve it. I saw those verses in Scripture that tell us to “cast our cares on Him” and “not to be anxious about anything” as commands, not invitations. But when I started seeing my Father as One who wants to come alongside me and relieve me of these burdens, it helped me draw closer to Him rather than hide from Him and shame.

Alexis: You talk about how you lived with undiagnosed anxiety for over 30 years. How did you survive? Share how your life changed after your illness was diagnosed and treated by doctors.

Nichole: Survival is a great way of putting it because I survived, but I was not thriving. I just held on and white-knuckled my way through life. I kept myself busy. I got a lot done. As a high-functioning anxious person, I had a lot of things on my plate, and I could get a lot of things done because anxiety was fueling all of it. But if I really allowed myself to stop and slow down, the anxiety would overwhelm me. So, I just kept moving.

I tried to read my Bible more and pray more, but it came to a point where I felt shame because I just could not get a handle on the anxiety. It wasn't until I had a diagnosis and realized that this generalized anxiety disorder is more than just someone who doesn't have enough faith and they're worried about something, but it was an actual thing going on inside of my body.

And when I could see it that way, my perspective changed because I saw it as something in my body that wasn't functioning as it should. And I have to keep bringing it back to God every day, looking to Him to be the strong One to bring me through it. Instead of being the strong one and relying on myself, I have to admit that I am weak and trust Him to be strong.

Alexis: Why do you think there is a rise of anxiety in our culture?

Nichole: We have access to anything and everything. We know way more than what we need. We are handling way more in our brains than we need to. We're moving through life at increasingly faster speeds. We know way more than what our brains were made to really handle. And we are connected at all times.

Because of that, we don't have these times where we have the space to really rest. We are not spending nearly as much time with our Father (God) as we should. A lot of that is replaced by screens, endless to-do lists, and crammed schedules. Plus, social media is prevalent and always gives us a reason to compare and feel like we're behind. All of that adds up to a culture of anxiety.

Alexis: If you could speak into the life of every person living with anxiety, what would you say to encourage them in only a few sentences?

Nichole: Anxiety can come from a lot of different directions. Sometimes the root is unconfessed sin we need to bring before God. It could be a relationship that needs to be addressed. It could be an actual diagnosis of something, meaning our hormones or brain chemicals are unbalanced. There could be a lot of reasons for the anxiety.

Regardless of the source, we need to take it to Jesus first. We need to bring Him into it with us. He wants to meet us in the middle of it and to help us. And so, our first step is to invite Him in.

You can struggle with anxiety and still have a deep relationship with Jesus. Struggling with anxiety does not disqualify you in the kingdom of God. Just make sure that you're taking it to Him instead of trying to handle it yourself.

Alexis: You made an interesting point about how we as humans have always been chasing peace in all the wrong places. Why do you think it’s like that for us?

Nichole: The fall distorted things and made us start to think that we were in control.

When we're in control, we start to believe we're also in control of peace. But the problem is, we manufacture the peace instead of going to our Father (God), the true source of peace. We're trying to build it ourselves by controlling situations, people, places, and things.

It's the enemy's lie to keep us focused on our own things, thinking that we can control it. Because when we believe we can control it, we aren't taking it to God.

Alexis: What is the solution to our ongoing search for peace?

Nichole:
Jesus. And we need to see that every part of our life needs to be brought to Him, every little bit. Nothing is insignificant for Him. And when we are bringing Him into the middle of everything, even the messy parts, He is ready to carry it for us. He is ready to meet us there, be with us, and carry us through.

Alexis: How did God teach you to let go of perfectionism, control and endless activity?

Nichole: It is an ongoing lesson as I continue to learn more about how anxiety affects me.

I see that when I pursue perfectionism, control, and endless activity, I am leaving less room for God to be God. When I chase after perfectionism, control, and productivity, I'm putting myself on the throne.

And sometimes, in some seasons, it has to be a daily giving up of that throne. I want to keep putting myself on it, but God has shown me time and time again that when I'm willing to let things be less than perfect, allow him to be the One in control, and to actually embrace rest, I can walk into a deeper relationship with Him.

Alexis:
You said that your book invites people to return to the garden God created, one where true peace is designed. What do you mean? Please explain how this will help them as they journey through this life on Earth.

Nichole:
In my book, I talk about seven attributes of Eden that are still present here today, helping us access God's peace and know Him better. I call these things God's design for mental wellness. He does not want us to live in a state of overwhelm and hurry. He wants us to live with a trusting heart, resting in his provision and not our own.

When we look to cultivate these Edenic attributes in our lives, it has to be intentional. Think about when you start a garden, you have to do your part, which involves getting seeds, tilling up the ground, planting the seeds, and even giving them a first watering from a garden hose. But then after that, the sunshine, rain, little sprouts, blossoms, fruit, and vegetables—all of that comes from God.

We have to be intentional with our part in cultivating the garden. We have to go in and pluck out weeds, but all of the increase and growth and provision comes from God. And when we are cultivating these parts of Eden, we're doing the parts that we can, and we're trusting God to bring the increase, to bring the peace.

Alexis:
You’ve mentioned that God’s original plan holds the answers to our deepest desires. How so? And what was His original plan?

Nichole: His original plan was for humans to be in the garden with Him, to walk in communion with Him, to be in complete rest and peace, to be surrounded by beauty and perfectness. That is God's original plan. So, when we look at His original plan, what parts of Eden has He designed for us to still enjoy today? And those are the attributes that I discuss in my book.

Alexis:
You’ve said that we don’t have to keep searching for peace because it’s been available to us all along. What do you mean by this powerful point?

Nichole:
The peace that’s been available all along comes from God. We try to manufacture our own peace by checking off the to-do list, organizing more things, and getting our schedule the way it should look.

We believe that when we have those in a certain way, we will be able to calm the chaos, and we'll feel more peaceful. But the truth is, all of that is manufactured by us, and the peace attached to it is fleeting. But God's peace is permanent and steadfast, even in the middle of any kind of chaos.

That is the peace that's been available to us all along.

Alexis:
What do you want readers to take away from your book?

Nichole:
I want the readers to experience life with their hands open, not grasping for control or creating their own comforts, but looking for ways God is providing for them and meeting them in the middle of their overwhelm, anxiety, and chaos. I want them to see how they can have a deeper relationship with Him when they choose to let Him be the one holding everything together, not them.

Alexis: Thanks for the interview, Nichole! 

~*~
Author Bio:

Nichole J. Suvar is an author and speaker who knows what it feels like to live overwhelmed, rushed, and stretched thin by anxiety. 


Now, through her books, devotions, podcast, and speaking, she helps women slow down, understand what’s beneath the overwhelm, and step into a more grounded, purposeful life—one that reflects the peace God designed for them. She has published five books, her latest being I Don’t Have to Hold it All Together, Cultivating the Peace of Eden When Feeling Overwhelmed.

Nichole lives with her family in Northern Indiana. She collects chairs—the more colorful, the better—thinks all the best food is in sandwich form, and will stop everything to read a map. She’s a fan of hiking, cozy cardigans, and Earl Grey Tea, and she’s learning that life unfolds better with open hands instead of tightly held fists. 

You can connect with her at livewithintent.org

~*~
Blurb for Nichole's book:


In the beginning, God poured His love into a garden.

The Bible begins with the story of creation. God builds a beautiful world . . . and a garden. In the garden of Eden, creation drank of God’s goodness and lived in His perfect peace. Yet since the fall of humanity, we’ve all struggled to find or create our own versions of Eden. We’ve been chasing peace in all the wrong places.

Nichole Suvar knows this all too well. Living with undiagnosed anxiety for over 30 years, she’s tried to build a garden of Eden through perfectionism, control, and endless activity. These self-made solutions only deepened her unrest.

I Don’t Have to Hold it All Together invites you to return to the garden God created, where true peace was designed, and discover how His original plan holds the answers to your deepest desires. Weaving personal stories, practical wisdom, and insights from experts, Nichole explores the deep truths embedded in God’s original garden, truths about communion with God, purpose, community, the goodness of creation, boundaries, true rest, and more.

The rise of anxiety in our culture reflects a broken search for peace. Readers are invited to cultivate a life that seeks after God’s original plan of peace and comfort and identify areas in their life where they have built their own false Eden.

The peace we’ve been searching for isn’t something we can create ourselves; it’s been available to us all along. Come receive His gift.

~*~
Buy Nichole's book: