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When the Waves Keep Coming
Psalm 61:2 — “From the end of the earth I call to you when my heart is faint. Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.” There have been periods in life when the weight of everything feels like it was too much. And I had barely a moment to catch my breath before, I knew it the new wave came crashing in. Perhaps you’ve had a similar experience or are having one now. In conversations with people, this is where many are at now. For you, it might have started with your parent’s health declining, slowly at first, and suddenly you’re thrust into this unexpected role; scheduling and attending appointments, taking care of documents, medical bills, and their household as well as your own. Perhaps it’s your marriage; stress has been piling up, and communication just isn’t what it used to be. Lately, it seems every conversation becomes an argument, and the bond you once shared seems to be slipping throuh your finges. The love remains somewhere in the background, yet it feels distant. And if you’re honest, you’re scared. Sadly, family drama has begun again, reopening old wounds and continuing the exhausting cycle of unspoken resentments. The same tiring routines have returned, and you find it both frustrating and utterly exhausting. Grounding yourself is proving difficult as the past relentlessly resurfaces. At the moment, you’re near your breaking point; work adds more stress and exhaustion. You’re overwhelmed, constantly playing catch-up, and struggling to keep up. Sometimes it’s not one big thing; it’s the everyday demands that never seem to stop. You’re running from one appointment to the next, juggling kids’ practices, school events, work deadlines, commitments, and errands. Laundry is piling up, dishes are in the sink, the house needs cleaning, and the lawn won’t mow itself. Finances are tight, and the due dates are slipping by without being paid. Deep down, you’re barely holding it together. No one sees how close you are to falling apart. Every part of your life demands more than you have to give. And perhaps you haven’t said it out loud, but somewhere deep inside, you wonder: God, how much more do You think I can take? On top of everything else, your own body isn’t cooperating. You might be dealing with fatigue, chronic pain, or health problems that make everything harder. Some days, getting out of bed takes everything you’ve got. You put on a smile when people ask how you’re doing, but deep down, you’re just trying to make it through the day without breaking down. I’ve walked through a few of these seasons myself, not all of these things, but a couple of them, and it was real, raw, and exhausting. I’ve had days where getting out of bed felt like a battle. I’ve prayed prayers that felt like they hit the ceiling and dropped back down. I’ve had moments where the silence of God felt deafening, and the darkness seemed never-ending.. I’ll be frank; my responses haven’t always been the best. I didn’t run straight to God. I tried to handle it my way. I let my weariness drive my decisions and dictate my attitude. I let my frustration lead. Every time I’ve done that, the outcome has never ended well for me or the ones I love, things could have gone better. The weight grew heavier, and the peace I craved appeared farther away. But here’s what I’ve learned, and am still learning: God doesn’t expect us to possess everything. He never asks us to be strong, perfect, or unshakable. In fact, His Word says the opposite. In 2 Corinthians 12:9, God tells Paul, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.” That means when we come to the end of ourselves, when we have nothing left to give, that’s when God steps in with His strength. In Psalm 61, David doesn’t pretend to be strong; he doesn’t act like everything is fine. He says, “When my heart is overwhelmed, lead me to the rock that is higher than I.” David was honest, raw, and real; he didn’t try to clean himself up before coming to God. He didn’t pretend to be okay. He came as he was: overwhelmed, vulnerable. And instead of trying to climb higher on his own, he cried out to be led; led to the Rock. That’s humility, trust, and faith, even when you don’t feel strong. Genuine power lives in David’s type of honesty. God can handle our exhaustion and mess. He can carry our frustrations, disappointments, and struggles. He’s not afraid of your questions or your doubts. He doesn’t want our performances; He only wants our hearts and honesty. He wants us to come to Him, as we are, with all of it. He already sees it, anyway. In Matthew 11:28, Jesus says, “Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” Not rules, no pressure, just rest. That is what He is offering. Strength doesn’t always look strong; Sometimes, strength is simply crawling to Jesus and whispering, Help me. And the good news is God hears you, sees you, and He’ll carry you when you can’t stand anymore. If you’re facing one storm after another, and life feels like a constant struggle, know that you haven’t been forgotten. You are not invisible. And you are not alone! The same God who calmed the seas, who fed the five thousand, who wept at the tomb of Lazarus — that God is with you in your storm. Not waiting for it to end, but walking with you through every single wave. You don’t have to fake it til you make it. You don’t have to have it all together. You just have to come. Crawl, if you must. Limp if you have to. Turn to Jesus, the rock that is higher, stronger, and more faithful than any challenge this world can bring. And when you can’t take another step, He’ll carry you.
The tiny box we overlook
“You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.” Jeremiah 29:13 (NIV)1 Today, I spent hours trying to do something that should have been simple. I was working on my employers website, trying to make a list of pulled data from a specific section of a database from another application. The solution, according to every blog, AI, and video I searched, said it was easy. Just click from the list box and choose from the drop-down. But I couldn’t find the box. I looked everywhere. I clicked everywhere in the Web Designer software. I was almost at the point of just doing coding. Even stepped away a few times to clear my head so I wouldn’t use language I shouldn’t. I knew I was making something so simple feel impossible. And then, I found it. A tiny icon, no bigger than a centimeter, that had been there the whole time. One click, and everything started falling into place. It hit me how often in life and in our faith do we do the same thing? We search and strive. We stress and overthink. We look everywhere except at what’s right in front of us. We ask God for answers but don’t slow down enough to see the small signs He has placed in our path. Sometimes the breakthrough isn’t about knowing more, but about seeing more clearly. About quieting our minds long enough to notice the still, small voice. (1 Kings 19:12). That tiny box reminded me that God doesn’t always shout in the obvious places. He often whispers in the quiet corners of our lives, in the spaces we overlook when we’re moving too fast to notice. Sometimes, the answer we desperately need isn’t in a loud voice or flashing road sign. It’s in a gentle nudge, a still small moment, or something so subtle we almost miss it. God’s guidance is not always loud, but it is always present. He might speak through an unexpected conversation with a friend, a line in a song we weren’t even really listening to, or a verse of Scripture that suddenly feels like it was written just for us. And often, it’s only after we’ve worn ourselves out searching that we’re still enough to finally hear Him. What felt like wasted time today wasn’t wasted at all. Every moment of struggle chipped away at my pride, my self-reliance, and my hurry. It softened me and humbled me. Reminding me that sometimes the journey is the lesson. That in my frustration, God is not far away. He’s teaching me to slow down, to pay attention, to depend on Him more than my own understanding. Clarity comes to those who are willing to keep seeking, even when they’re tired or frustrated. God honors the heart that doesn’t give up. The heart that says, Lord, I trust that You are here, even when I don’t see it yet. And when that clarity finally comes after what seems like forever and we see the “tiny box” we overlooked, it moves us and possibly humbles us. Because we know we didn’t get there on our own. It was grace that opened our eyes. So now, every time I see that tiny little icon on the page, I’ll remember this, sometimes the biggest breakthroughs come in the smallest, quietest places. And God is always there patiently waiting for me to see. Reflection:Is there something in your life that feels frustratingly unclear right now? A situation where you’ve searched everywhere for answers? Maybe, just maybe, the answer is already in front of you quiet, small, and waiting for you to pause long enough to see it. New International Version (NIV) Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV® Copyright ©1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.
When You’re Not in the Room—But God Still Sees You
“Those who look to Him are radiant with joy; their faces will never be ashamed.” — Psalm 34:5 (HCSB) This morning when I woke up I was thinking about something that happened this past week. It wasn’t anything major, but it left me with emotions and feelings I didn’t expect. You would think at my age that I’ve grown past certain things. I tell myself that certain situations just don’t bother me anymore. But this last week, I was reminded that, even as we grow, there are moments when old feelings can resurface. This last week, there was a delay in communication about something important. I wasn’t informed until hours after it had happened. There was no malice behind it, but I still found myself feeling left out, wondering why I wasn’t included sooner. At first, I brushed it off, It’s not a big deal, I told myself. Things like this happen. But as the days went on, I realized I wasn’t just frustrated about the delay itself. I had made it all about me. Ouch 🙁(lol, I know no one else does this only me.) Instead of focusing on the situation, I found myself thinking, Why wasn’t I told sooner? Was I not important enough to be included? I let the issue become more about my feelings and emotions rather than what had actually happened again ouch. 🙁 Early this morning I was reading Psalm 34 and God used it to gently redirect my heart. Don’t you love how God does that. He lets us pout and make it all about us, then he guides us back to reality and himself. David wrote this Psalm during a time of fear and uncertainty. He was fleeing for his life, pretending to be mad to save himself. His situation was a million times worse than mine, for sure. But in the middle of it all, David made a choice to praise God he said, “I will praise the Lord at all times; His praise will always be on my lips.” (v.1) David’s praise wasn’t based on his circumstances. It wasn’t dependent on how things were going or how others treated him. It was about focusing on God’s faithfulness, even when everything around him seemed uncertain. Then as I continued to read the chapter in verse 5 it says, “Those who look to Him are radiant with joy; their faces will never be ashamed.” That’s when the situation came to the surface and I realized that I had been focused on how I felt, my emotions rather than on God’s presence. Instead of focusing on the situation or how others might have been acting, I needed to shift my gaze to Him. When I do that, my heart can find peace and joy, even when circumstances aren’t what I expect. But I wanted to dig deeper and find out what does it really mean to be “radiant with joy”? To be radiant means more than just having a smile on our face, it speaks of an inner transformation. It’s a joy that shines through, not because everything is perfect, but because the light of God’s love is shining in us. It’s the kind of joy that transcends our circumstances, one that comes from knowing God’s presence is near and that He is good, no matter what happens around us. It’s a joy that lifts our spirits and makes us glow from the inside out, not because we have everything figured out, or understand it’s not all about us, but because we know we are loved, seen, and held by the Creator of the universe. When we “look to Him,” we become vessels of that joy. Our faces become radiant because we reflect His light. This isn’t about pretending everything is fine when it’s not—it’s about recognizing that joy doesn’t come from our circumstances, but from knowing the One who holds everything in His hands. Psalm 34 also says: “The Lord is near the brokenhearted; He saves those crushed in spirit.” (v.18) Even in our moments of disappointment, God is near. He sees us—not just when things are falling apart, but even when our thoughts start to spiral or our emotions feel bigger than the situation. His nearness is a steady anchor when our hearts feel shaken. And here’s what that nearness should do: it should lift our eyes off ourselves and turn them toward Him. Because if I stay stuck in my own feelings, I’ll keep replaying what went wrong or how I wish it had been different. But when I look to God, like Psalm 34 calls me to, it reminds me that the goal isn’t to defend my emotions or demand my own way—it’s to reflect Him. It’s to respond with grace, trust, and a heart that praises Him at all times (v.1). It’s not about me being seen—it’s about seeing God. And when I truly see Him, everything else shifts into perspective. So instead of staying inward, Psalm 34 invites us to look upward—to see God’s faithfulness, His presence, His goodness. When our eyes are on Him, our hearts can rest, our minds can quiet, and our faces shine—not because we got what we wanted, but because we saw the One who is always enough.
Learning to Slow Down – Discernment
“The rich man is wise in his own eyes, but the poor who has understanding sees through him.” — Proverbs 28:11 (ESV) “If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you.” — James 1:5 (NIV) This morning, I was reading Proverbs 28:11, and it made me pause. It says, “The rich man is wise in his own eyes, but the poor who has understanding sees through him.” It made me think—how many times have I been so sure I saw a situation clearly, only to realize later that I missed something important or saw the whole situation wrong. There have been times I have made decisions in the moment, based on what I thought was right. I’ve spoken too soon, assumed too much, and trusted my own thoughts more than I should’ve. As I look back many times, I can see those were moments when I didn’t ask God or let the Holy Spirit lead me to wisdom—I just went with what felt right at the time. And honestly, those choices didn’t lead to peace. Most of the time, they just brought confusion, regret, or hurt either for me or to someone else. Acting on impulse might feel right in the moment, but without God’s guidance, it rarely leads to anything good. But in James 1:5 it reminded me of something better. It says that when I lack wisdom (which, honestly, is more often than I’d like to admit) lol 🙂, all I have to do is ask God and He’ll give it. This kind of generosity and kindness amazes me. Discernment isn’t about being right, it’s about being willing to wait and listen. It’s about admitting, “Maybe I don’t know the whole story.” This isn’t a weakness. This is wisdom. And I’m learning that the Holy Spirit is always ready to guide me, if I’ll take the time to invite Him in. These days, I’m trying to be slower to speak, slower to judge, and quicker to pray. I want to see situations and people through God’s eyes, not just my own. Because He sees what I can’t, and He knows what’s really going on beneath the surface.
Hands Still, Heart Full
Do you ever have one of those days where all you want to do is run away, and depression and anxiety have their ugly grips on you, and you feel worn down, off balance, and like you’re barely holding it together? That was me yesterday. And honestly, there wasn’t even a clear reason. Nothing specific set it off, it was just a lot of little things, slowly building up. Emotions I couldn’t quite name. A heaviness I couldn’t explain. That feeling of being out of sync, like the world is moving around you and you’re just… stuck. Usually when I feel this way, I break away into one of my crafts, something with my hands. Painting, designing, writing, building, creating, anything to help me breathe again. It’s how I process. It’s how I come back to myself. Maybe that’s why I have so many different kinds of crafts; because on the days when I feel like I’m falling apart, making something reminds me that I’m still here. Still whole, somewhere beneath the weight. But yesterday, I couldn’t even do that. Life didn’t give me the space. Work had to be done. Responsibilities kept pulling. And the one thing that usually helps me cope….. wasn’t an option. And that made it even harder. So I carried the weight with me most of the day; quietly, tired and overwhelmed. And somewhere in the middle of it all, I just stopped. I breathed. And I surrendered it to God, not in some big, dramatic way, but in a soft, tired whisper: “God, I can’t carry this. Please take it.” That shift didn’t fix everything. The heaviness didn’t magically disappear. But something inside me softened. My perspective began to change. The pressure didn’t vanish, but I didn’t feel crushed by it anymore. It was like I remembered I wasn’t carrying it alone anymore. Psalm 46:1 says, “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” He’s present. Not just in worship songs or Scripture reading. But in the middle of long workdays, aching hearts, and the moments when we don’t have the space to do what normally helps us breathe. Even when I couldn’t create, He was still creating space for me to be seen, known and held. So if you’ve had one of those days, where your soul feels like it’s barely stitched together know that you’re not alone. And maybe, just maybe, the simple act of showing up on a day like that is holy, too. Maybe it’s your quiet way of saying, “God, I’m still here. Please hold me together.” And I believe He does.
Quiet Doesn’t Mean It Didn’t Affect Me
“Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”— Romans 12:21 (NIV) Earlier today, I had to deal with a frustrating situation at the post office. A very expensive item of mine was lost, and when I went in to ask about it, the postmaster was very rude, hateful, and was very dismissive. I didn’t say anything harsh I stayed quiet, left, and went out to my car. But even though I didn’t say much, it still bothered me and truthfully, I wanted to cry. It stuck with me for a few hours afterward. I kept thinking about how it made me feel, and honestly, I didn’t like that I let it bother me so much. What keep coming to me aftewards more than what happened with the postmaster was the reminder that careless words can leave a lasting mark. And that made me stop and think have I ever made someone else feel the way I felt today? Even unintentionally? The truth is, I have. Romans 12:21 says, “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.” It’s a reminder that we don’t need to respond to rudeness with rudeness. But it’s also a call to examine our own behavior too—to make sure we’re not spreading that same attitude to someone else, even on a stressful day. I may not have said much today, but that moment still taught me something. It reminded me to be more aware of how I speak, how I treat people, and how even a small exchange can carry more weight than I realize.