church

And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching.
- Hebrews 10:24–25 (NIV)
 
For the past couple of years, we have been searching for a church home. You would think finding a church would be easy. There are churches everywhere! But finding a place where you feel like you can truly belong? That's been harder than I expected.
We don't want a mega church or one with so many satellite locations that we're never quite sure where the pastor is. We want something small enough to build relationships, but large enough to have different ages, activities, and interests. We want sound teaching, belief in the Trinity, communion, and worship music that speaks to us. We want opportunities to be involved without feeling like we need to be at church every night of the week. Apparently, we have a list.
I don't think there's anything wrong with knowing what we're looking for. Where we worship matters. What a church teaches matters. The people we surround ourselves with matter. But I've also realized something during this search: God can't connect us to a church community if we never stay long enough to become part of one.
Hebrews reminds us not to give up meeting together, but to encourage one another and spur one another toward love and good works.
Maybe sometimes we're so busy looking for the place that checks every box that we forget why we're looking in the first place.
We're looking for a place to worship God. A place to learn, to encourage others and be encouraged. A place to serve and a place to show up.
The perfect church probably doesn't exist. And if it did, the minute all of us imperfect people walked through the door, we'd ruin it anyway. So maybe the question isn't, “Does this church have everything we're looking for?”
Maybe it's simply: “Can we grow closer to God here?”
If the answer is yes, maybe that's enough reason to keep showing up.
 
#dailybreadbykitty
Daily Inspiration from the Bible

there

 You are the light of the world. A city that is set on a hill cannot be hidden.
- Matthew 5:14 (NKJV)
 
We all have a there - that place in our story we can point back to and say, that changed me.
Sometimes there is an actual place, sometimes it's a season. Sometimes it's a hospital room, a job we lost, a relationship that changed, a decision we didn't want to make, a prayer that seemed unanswered, or a road we never expected to travel. Sometimes there is simply the moment when life became divided into before and after.
This week, we've talked about a lot of different places. There was a café table where something as simple as Smarties and high-fives became a fifteen-year legacy of kindness.
There was a boat in a storm, headed for the other side, there were frightened disciples wondering if Jesus even heard them. There were fears, doubts and lies that needed to be called by their real names. There was a shoreline most people probably would have avoided and a man everyone else had given up on.
And there was a family in Iowa packing up everything they knew and moving to Arkansas without any idea what God had waiting for them there.
Different stories, different places, different "theres".
But God was present in every one of them.
I've lived long enough now to have quite a collection of "theres" of my own. There are places I never would have chosen to go and seasons I certainly wouldn't volunteer to repeat. There have been moments when I've been afraid, times when plans fell apart, when I couldn't understand why God was allowing something to happen. Times when the only prayer I could manage was some version of, God, are You there?
And looking back, I can answer that question differently now.
Yes. He was there. He was there when I understood what He was doing, and He was there when I didn't.
He was there in the prayers that were answered the way I hoped, and He was there when the answer looked nothing like what I wanted.
He was there when the road was easy and He was there when getting to the other side meant going straight through a storm.
He heard me there.
He met me there.
And He changed me there.
Maybe that's why Jesus' words in Matthew 5:14 matter so much: “You are the light of the world.”
Light isn't particularly noticeable when everything around it is already bright, we notice light when things get dark.
And maybe some of the places where we once wondered where God was are the very places He was preparing us to carry His light.
Think about the man Jesus freed in Mark chapter 5. Yesterday we talked about how he wanted to leave with Jesus, but Jesus told him to stay and tell people what the Lord had done for him. His "there" became part of his testimony.
So did mine.
And so can yours.
Maybe you've walked through grief, and now you recognize it in someone else's eyes.
Maybe you've struggled financially, and now you understand the fear someone else is carrying.
Maybe you've battled insecurity, addiction, loneliness, illness, disappointment or fear.
Maybe you've had to start over.
Maybe you've watched a plan you were certain about completely fall apart.
Maybe you've found yourself somewhere you never intended to be.
And maybe you wondered if God heard you there.
He did.
But what if He didn't bring you through your there simply so you could put it behind you?
What if somebody else needs the light you learned to carry in that darkness?
What if the encouragement you can offer today comes from the comfort God gave you yesterday?
What if the person standing in front of you needs to hear, I've been there. Let me tell you what God did.
We don't have to have all the answers.
We don't have to have a perfect testimony tied up with a beautiful little bow.
We simply have to be willing to let God use our story.
Because our stories aren't supposed to stop with us.
The kindness we receive can become kindness we give away.
The storms we survive can teach us how to trust.
The fears we name can remind us Who is greater.
And the places God brings us through can become the places from which we tell somebody else what He has done.
Maybe that's what being a light looks like. Not standing above someone and shouting directions, but standing beside them and saying, I know this place. I've had a “there,” too. And Jesus met me there.
So as this week comes to a close, I have one question:
Where is your there?
The place where you wondered whether God heard you. The season when you were afraid. The thing you thought might break you. The place you never expected to find yourself. Don't be ashamed of your there. Don't assume God wasted it. And don't hide the light He gave you while you were walking through it.
Wherever your “there” is, He heard you there. He met you there. And He can use what happened there to shine His light through you here.
 
#dailybreadbykitty
Daily Inspiration from the Bible

story time

As Jesus was getting into the boat, the man who had been demon possessed begged to go with Him. But Jesus said, “No, go home to your family, and tell them everything the Lord has done for you and how merciful He has been.”
- Mark 5:18–19
 
There's a moment near the end of Mark 5 that I think is easy to read right past. Jesus has just done something incredible. He meets a man whose life has been completely overtaken by evil. The man has been living among the tombs, isolated from everyone around him. People are afraid of him. He's hurting himself. He's uncontrollable. His life, by every human measure, seems hopeless.
Then Jesus comes and everything changes. By the time the people from town arrive, they find this man sitting there, dressed and in his right mind.
Can you imagine? After everything he'd been through, the man wants to leave with Jesus. That seems like a perfectly reasonable response to me.
Jesus, You saved me. You changed my life. Wherever You're going, I'm coming with You.
But Jesus tells him no. Instead, He tells the man to go home to his family and tell them everything the Lord has done for him.
In other words: Stay here. Tell your story. The place that held some of his worst memories became his mission field.
I've thought about that a lot because sometimes the place God wants us isn't necessarily the place we would choose for ourselves.
In 2002, we left Iowa. At the time, it sure didn't feel like a good choice or a good decision. It felt like we had simply run out of options. The company Randy and I worked for was going through serious downsizing, and both of us had been impacted. We had three kids, a load of debt and an opportunity to pick up everything we owned and move to Arkansas. There was just one little problem. I didn't want to go. At all. Our family was in Iowa. Our friends were in Iowa. Our lives were in Iowa. Arkansas was a place we'd never lived, and we didn't know anyone there. Leaving was the last thing I wanted to do. I cried for weeks.
Looking back now, I can see something I couldn't see then.
God knew what was waiting for us in Arkansas. He knew the people we hadn't met yet. He knew the friendships that hadn't been formed yet. He knew the opportunities that hadn't happened yet. He knew the lives that would eventually intersect with ours—and the people who would make a difference in our lives, too.
Twenty-four years later, I can tell you that moving to Arkansas was the right thing to do. I couldn't possibly list all the reasons. Honestly, it would probably fill a book. But I can tell you this:
We have made connections and been given opportunities to make a difference in people's lives that never would have happened if we'd stayed in Iowa. And there are people who have changed our lives whom we never would have known. I couldn't see any of that while I was crying about leaving home. I could only see what I was losing. God could see where we were going.
Maybe that's part of what makes the story in Mark 5 so powerful. The man knew what Jesus had rescued him from. Jesus knew what He was sending him to. And his story didn't belong only to him. There were people who needed to hear what Jesus had done.
The same is true for us.
We all have chapters we wouldn't have chosen. Places we didn't want to go. Circumstances we didn't understand. Seasons when all we could see was what we were losing, what had gone wrong or what we wished had happened differently. But sometimes, years later, we get the privilege of looking back and seeing God's fingerprints all over a chapter that once looked like a disaster.
And then we have a story to tell. Not a story about how perfectly everything worked out. A story about what God did.
That's what Jesus told the man to share. Not theology he hadn't studied, not answers to every question. Simply "Tell them what the Lord has done for you".
We can do that.
Maybe sometimes God brings us out of a there—and then uses our story to reach somebody who is still there.
Maybe someone needs to know that the season they're crying through today won't necessarily look the same when they look back on it years from now. Maybe someone needs to hear that losing what was familiar doesn't mean God has forgotten them.
Maybe someone simply needs to hear: I've been there, I didn't understand it either, but let me tell you what God did.
Your story isn't only about where you've been. It may become part of the way God helps someone else get where they're going.
Your story doesn't stop with you.
 
#dailybreadbykitty
Daily Inspiration from the Bible 

name it

You are of God, little children, and have overcome them, because He who is in you is greater than he who is in the world.
- 1 John 4:4 (NKJV)
 
We name things because knowing what something is helps us know what to do about it.
If the check-engine light comes on, we don't fix the problem by putting tape over the light. We find out what's causing it.
If something hurts, we want to know why.
If there's a strange noise coming from the motorcycle, we don't just turn the radio up louder. Well...maybe some people do. But eventually, we have to figure out what's making the noise.
Because ignoring something doesn't make it disappear.
And sometimes the things we need to name aren't mechanical or physical. Sometimes they're the things happening inside us.
I am a worrier. I can take one little thing and, given enough time, turn it into seventeen different scenarios in my head—and sixteen of them end badly. I like to tell myself I'm just thinking ahead. I'm being prepared. I'm considering all the possibilities. And sometimes I am. But sometimes I need to call it what it really is.
Fear.
There's something powerful about naming what we're actually dealing with. Not because naming it gives it more power, but because it stops us from allowing it to hide behind something else.
Sometimes “I'm just being realistic” is doubt.
Sometimes “that's just how I am” is an excuse for something God is asking us to change.
Sometimes “what if...” is fear.
Sometimes “nobody will ever know” is temptation.
Sometimes “I'm not good enough” is a lie.
We can dress those things up with nicer names. We can justify them. Ignore them. Distract ourselves from them. But eventually, just like that strange noise coming from the motorcycle, we have to figure out what's really going on.
And naming something isn't admitting defeat. It's actually refusing to let it hide behind another name.
Yesterday, we left the disciples in a boat headed for the other side. The storm was real. The waves were real. Their fear was real.
But so was Jesus.
And I think that's important.
Following Jesus doesn't require us to pretend the hard things aren't hard. Faith doesn't mean we never feel afraid, never struggle, never doubt or never face temptation. We can be honest about what's happening.
I'm afraid, I'm struggling, I'm doubting, I'm tempted, I'm believing something about myself that God never said about me.
We can name it.
But 1 John 4:4 reminds us that none of those things gets the final word. Because once we've named what's fighting for our attention, we can name something much more important:
Greater is the One who lives in me.
Greater than my fear, my doubt, my temptation. Greater than my insecurity, greater than every lie trying to convince me that I am facing this alone.
And notice what the verse doesn't say. God isn't greater if I pray hard enough. He isn't greater once I finally get myself together. He isn't greater when I stop being afraid.
He is greater. Right now.
Maybe that's what somebody needs to remember today.
You don't have to pretend the battle isn't real in order to have faith. You don't have to call fear “being cautious,” doubt “being realistic,” or insecurity “just who I am.”
Bring it into the light, name it. Name the fear, the doubt, the temptation, the insecurity, the lie.
But don't stop there.
Name Jesus.
Because whatever you're facing today may be bigger than you.
But it isn't bigger than the One living in you.
 
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Daily Inspiration from the Bible

the other side

As evening came, Jesus said to his disciples, “Let’s cross to the other side of the lake.”
- Mark 4:35 (NLT)
 
I LOVE the phrase “the other side.”
Jesus didn't tell them, “Let's go out into the storm.” He said, “Let's cross to the other side.”
The storm happened on the way - that's a huge distinction.
Sometimes God calls us somewhere we've never been before. We say yes, expecting that obedience should somehow make the journey easier—and then suddenly we're in the middle of a storm thinking, Wait a minute. Didn't Jesus tell me to come this way?
Yes.
And He's still in the boat.
The disciples panicked because Jesus was asleep. Don't You care? Don't You see this? Don't You hear us?
I think sometimes we do the same thing. Especially when we have been given direction but we're pretty sure our plan would work better.
We have a fifth-wheel RV that is nearly forty feet long. For the record, I do NOT drive the truck while we're pulling the RV. But I have very seriously considered buying us the matching keychains that say, “I'm sorry for what I said while we were parking the RV.” Because apparently nothing tests a marriage quite like trying to back forty feet of recreational vehicle into a campsite. My job is usually to stand outside and help guide my wonderful husband into the spot. I'm watching the back of the RV, the trees, the picnic table, the hookups, whatever happens to be nearby, while trying to tell him which direction that enormous thing needs to go. And somehow my helpful directions don't always sound quite as helpful from inside the truck. He gets frustrated because he doesn't understand what I'm trying to tell him. I get frustrated because I don't think he's listening to what I'm trying to tell him. So finally I decided I was going to show him. Fine. You tell ME which way to turn the wheels and I'll park it. After a little scoffing—and probably wondering how much our insurance deductible was—he let me climb behind the wheel. And together, we parked it. I've done that exactly twice since we've owned the RV. Turns out, it really IS a lot harder than it looks. Standing outside, I could see exactly where the RV needed to go. From behind the wheel, everything looked different. The truck was turning one direction, the RV was moving another, and every instinct I had seemed to tell me to turn the wheel the opposite direction from where Randy was telling me to turn it. I had to trust the person outside the truck who could see what I couldn't.
There's a lesson in there somewhere.
How many times have we done that with God?
He gives us direction, and we start moving. Then things don't go the way we expected. This can't be right.
Surely I should be going the other direction. God, are You seeing what I'm seeing? Are You even listening?
That's essentially what the disciples were asking Jesus in that boat. The storm was raging. Waves were coming over the sides. They were afraid, and Jesus was sleeping. But Jesus hadn't forgotten where they were going. He had already told them. The other side. They just didn't know what they were going to encounter between here and there.
Neither do we.
Sometimes following God's direction doesn't make sense from where we're sitting. We can't see everything He sees. We may be trying desperately to steer our lives in the direction that feels right while God is saying, Trust Me. Keep going.
And sometimes we're so focused on the storm around us—or the forty-foot RV behind us—that we forget Who is giving the directions.
The disciples eventually reached the other side. Not because there wasn't a storm. Not because they navigated everything perfectly. But because Jesus was with them through it.
The presence of a storm doesn't mean you misunderstood God's direction.
Sometimes the storm is simply between where you are and the other side.
 
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Daily Inspiration from the Bible

smarties

Kind words are like honey — sweet to the soul and healthy for the body.
- Proverbs 16:24
 
My father-in-law is known around town by a couple of different names. Some people call him “Mr. Smartie.” Others simply call him “The Candy Man.” And he's earned both names honestly. For at least fifteen years, my father-in-law has carried Smarties around to give to kids—and sometimes adults. There's really only one requirement for the kids: you've got to pay for your Smarties with a high-five.
Over the years, it has become part of who he is. Kids know that if they see him sitting at his table at the café, there's a pretty good chance he has Smarties in his pocket. They'll run over to see him. Some kids even come running to the front door when they know he's home. His little tradition became so well known that years ago the local newspaper wrote a story about him.
But apparently, when you're Mr. Smartie, buying candy by the little bag at the grocery store eventually becomes impractical. So, for Christmas in 2023, Randy and I decided to make sure Dad was properly supplied. We went online and found a 40-pound box of Smarties. - that's 2,235 rolls. We figured that ought to hold him for a while. And it did - almost two years, in fact.
Toward the end of 2025, Dad finally started running out, so naturally, we knew what he needed for Christmas.
Another 40-pound box of Smarties.
When Randy went to the Smarties website to place the order, though, he noticed a link that said something like, “Tell us your Smarties story.”
Well... we have a Smarties story.
So Randy told them about his dad. He told them about the years of handing out candy and high-fives. He told them about the newspaper article and even sent them a copy. He told them about the enormous box we'd given Dad a couple of years earlier. Then Randy placed our order for another 40-pound box.
When we arrived in Iowa with Dad's Christmas present, however, we discovered that the folks at Smarties had apparently decided The Candy Man needed a little Christmas present from them, too. They sent him two two-pound bags of Smarties. A Smarties hat. And—wait for it—
another 40-pound box of Smarties.
Between the box we bought and the box Smarties sent him, Dad now has enough candy to keep the high-five business operating for somewhere around four years.
That's a LOT of Smarties.
But here's what I love about this story.
None of it started with 40-pound boxes of candy. It started with one man putting a few rolls of Smarties in his pocket because he enjoyed making kids smile.
One piece of candy, one child, one high-five, one smile.
And then he did it again, and again - for more than fifteen years.
Proverbs 16:24 says, “Kind words are like honey—sweet to the soul and healthy for the body.”
There's something about sweetness that goes far beyond what we taste.
A kind word can be sweet.
Being noticed can be sweet.
Knowing somebody is happy to see you can be sweet.
And sometimes kindness looks like a little roll of candy held out in exchange for a high-five.
The Smarties are long gone a few minutes later. But those kids know The Candy Man. They know which table to run toward at the café. They know which front door to run to when he's home. And I don't think they're only running toward the candy.
They're running toward someone who is always happy to see them. That's what really gets me. We spend so much time wondering how we can make a difference in this world. We think we need more money, more time, more talent or some big opportunity from God.
Meanwhile, God may have already put something in our pocket that we can give away.
Maybe it's encouragement, maybe it's a listening ear, maybe it's laughter, maybe it's a hug or a high-five.
Maybe it's simply making sure someone knows you're glad they're there.
And maybe it's Smarties.
Dad started giving away something small, and years later, there are people helping make sure his pockets stay full so he can keep giving it away.
I love that.
Because maybe that's how kindness is supposed to work: We receive it, we give it away, someone else adds a little more, and we keep giving.
So today, I think Proverbs gives us a pretty simple assignment: Carry something sweet, not necessarily in your pocket.
Carry kindness in your heart, carry encouraging words on your tongue, carry the love of Jesus everywhere you go.
Then look for somebody who needs a little of it.
Because you never know what God might do with one small act of kindness repeated faithfully over time.
After all, sometimes a legacy begins with nothing more than a roll of Smarties and a high-five.
 
#dailybreadbykitty
Daily Inspiration from the Bible
 

legacy

We will tell the next generation the praiseworthy deeds of the Lord, his power, and the wonders he has done.
-  Psalm 78:4 (NIV)
 
And just like that... it is Friday again. As I sat down to write this week, I realized something I hadn't planned. Every devotion this week came from my family in Iowa. One verse was suggested by my sister-in-law. Another by my mother-in-law. The stories came from my father-in-law's backyard, my brother-in-law's work at Bible camp, and a road trip home with my amazing husband. At first, I thought I was simply writing about our weekend together. Then I realized I was writing about something much bigger.
I was writing about legacy. Not a legacy measured in dollars or possessions. A legacy measured in faith. A family that has chosen, day after day, year after year, to build their lives on the foundation of Jesus Christ.
When I think about them, I don't think about the things they own. I think about a man who faithfully feeds God's creatures because he knows they matter to their Creator. I think about a woman whose first response is, "Here's a verse that encouraged me." I think about a man who quietly picks up a rock and pulls weeds because he serves the Lord, not people. I think about a sister who reminds me that our days are precious and should be lived wisely.
Those moments may seem ordinary. But ordinary faithfulness, repeated over a lifetime, becomes an extraordinary legacy.
Psalm 78:4 says, "We will tell the next generation the praiseworthy deeds of the Lord, his power, and the wonders he has done."
As I read those words, I realized that's exactly what I've experienced. No one in this family has ever preached a sermon to me. They've simply lived one. Their faith isn't something they put on for Sunday mornings. It's found in the everyday moments—in conversations around the kitchen table, in caring for God's creation, in serving without seeking recognition, in sharing Scripture, in working with excellence, and in loving one another well. That's the kind of faith that quietly shapes children, grandchildren, friends... and daughters-in-law. It's the kind of faith that points people to Jesus without ever demanding attention.
As I look back over this week, I'm thankful not only for the stories we shared, but for the people who inspired them. Their example reminds me that the greatest inheritance we can leave isn't a house, a bank account, or a collection of possessions. It's a life that consistently reflects Christ.
So as you head into the weekend, remember this: The legacy we leave isn't built in the extraordinary moments. It's built in the ordinary moments that we faithfully give to God.
 
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Daily Inspiration from the Bible

road trip!

 You, Lord, are all I have, and you give me all I need; my future is in your hands. 
-  Psalm 16:5 (GNT)
 
Road trips... you either love them or you hate them. There really isn't much in between. If you had told twenty-year-old me that someday I'd be living nine hours away from my hometown, I would have laughed in your face. Yet here we are, making that drive several times a year to spend time with family in Iowa. The miles have become familiar enough that sometimes it feels like we could drive them in our sleep... but since there are other people on the road, sleep-driving definitely isn't on the recommended to-do list! 
One thing Randy and I always do is see if we can beat the GPS arrival time. It's become a little personal challenge. The funny thing is, the GPS doesn't account for construction zones, road closures, or the car broken down in the middle of a 75 mph highway that causes everyone ahead of you to slam on their brakes. Sometimes the only thing standing between a close call and an accident is a driver with lightning-fast reflexes. (Thank you, Randy!)  The truth is, we never really know what's around the next curve.
We don't know where we'll stop for fuel, where we'll find a clean restroom, or how we'll manage a meal on the road when you have specific nutritional needs. We simply keep following the road because we trust it will lead us to our destination.
Our walk with God is often exactly like that. He rarely hands us the whole map. Instead, He gives us the next mile. And maybe that's enough, because the destination was never in our hands to begin with. Life is much the same. We can't see every chapter before it's written. We make choices, take detours, and sometimes wonder if we've missed a turn. We experience loss. We face health challenges. We start businesses, learn new technology, celebrate victories, and weather disappointments. Through it all, God is quietly writing a story that only He can fully see.
Looking back over my life, I realize the greatest blessings weren't the ones I planned—they were the ones God planned. He saw around every curve long before I reached it. He knew the people I would meet, the lessons I would learn, the tears I would cry, and the joy that was waiting on the other side.
My future has never really been in my hands. And honestly... I'm thankful for that.
 
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Daily Inspiration from the Bible

whole heart

Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving. 
-  Colossians 3:23-24 (NIV)
 
This past weekend we spent time in Iowa with family during the Bible camp's annual fundraiser weekend. If you've read my Daily Bread for very long, you know how much I treasure these trips. Sitting around the table listening to stories from when my in-laws were growing up, laughing about the adventures the siblings had as kids, making new memories together... it's just a little slice of heaven for me.
My brother-in-law is the head of maintenance at the camp. Fundraiser weekend is one of the busiest times of the year for him and his wife, yet somehow they always make time to visit with the family. As we were walking around admiring a beautiful addition to one of the lodges, someone shared a story that perfectly describes who he is.
He had been walking with the camp director when he noticed a rock lying in the middle of the sidewalk. Without saying a word, he bent over, picked it up, and then pulled a few weeds that had worked their way through the cracks in the concrete.
The camp director smiled and said, "You have people to do that." He does. He could have kept walking. He could have made a mental note to ask someone else to take care of it later. No one would have thought less of him. But that's not who he is. He takes pride in his work—not because someone is watching, not because it's in his job description, and not because he'll receive recognition. He simply sees something that needs to be done and does it.When I heard that story, I couldn't help but think of this verse.
"Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord..."
What if we all lived that way? What if we answered emails, cleaned our homes, greeted customers, cared for our families, served at church, or picked up that one rock in the sidewalk as if Jesus Himself had asked us to do it? The little things matter because they reveal the condition of our hearts.
Working for the Lord doesn't always look like preaching a sermon or leading a Bible study. Sometimes it looks like quietly pulling weeds that no one else even noticed.
Faithfulness is often found in the smallest moments.
Today, whatever God places in front of you, do it with your whole heart. Someone may never notice your effort, but the One you're really working for always does.
 
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Daily Inspiration from the Bible 

squirrels

 The Lord is good to all; He has compassion on all He has made.
- Psalm 145:9 (NIV)
 
I'll admit it—not everyone loves cats as much as I do, and that's okay. My wonderful mother- and father-in-law have a different soft spot. They love squirrels. For as long as I can remember, Dad has kept the bird feeders full and made sure the squirrels in the backyard had something to eat. Over the years they've watched countless furry visitors come and go, but this year two of them have become something like old friends.
There's Charlie. Charlie has become brave enough to walk right up onto the front porch and gently take a peanut from their fingers. Then there's Chicken. Chicken isn't quite as adventurous. He won't come onto the porch while Mom and Dad are outside, but if the peanut dish is empty, he'll come right up to the door as if to say, "Excuse me... I think you forgot something!" I loved hearing the stories about Charlie and Chicken this weekend. Their little personalities make me smile, but they also remind me of something much bigger.
Psalm 145 tells us that "The Lord is good to all; he has compassion on all he has made." God's compassion isn't reserved for people alone. Throughout Scripture we see Him caring for all of His creation, and I love seeing that same compassion reflected in people like Mom and Dad as they faithfully care for the birds and squirrels that visit their yard.
Charlie and Chicken may just be simple squirrels, but they know where to find someone who cares for them. And when I think about it, so do we.
Sometimes God's care comes through answered prayers. Sometimes it comes through family, friends, or even the unexpected kindness of a stranger. A comforting word, an encouraging smile, a meal shared, a helping hand—God often chooses ordinary people to demonstrate His extraordinary love.
For Charlie, love might look like a handful of peanuts waiting on the porch.
For us, it may be a kind word spoken at just the right moment or someone showing up when we need them most.
Every act of compassion, no matter how small, reflects the heart of our Creator. We never know when a simple act of kindness might remind someone that they are seen, loved, and cared for.
So today, be someone's peanut. You might be the very reminder they needed that God hasn't forgotten them. 
 
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Daily Inspiration from the Bible

1, 2, 3. . .

Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom. 
-  Psalm 90:12 (NIV)
 
From a very young age, we start counting. Our parents teach us to count our fingers and toes. In school we learn numbers so we can do math. (I'll be honest—I do not math well at all.) As we get older, people tell us to count our blessings, but if we're honest, I don't think any of us can count that high. There really is a song about that.
Life becomes a series of countdowns. As kids, it's "How many days until summer vacation?" Parents are over there asking, "How many days until school starts again?" We count down to birthdays, vacations, holidays, retirement, and every New Year. We celebrate milestones by counting candles, years, and anniversaries.
Somehow, time has a funny way of moving. Our children were babies just last week... and now they're adults with families of their own. Then there are seasons when time seems to crawl. Five o'clock won't get here. Retirement feels forever away. Someone said this weekend, "The minutes are long, but the days, months, and years are short." I think that's about as true as it gets.
Psalm 90 doesn't tell us to count our years. It asks God to teach us to number our days. There's a difference. When we realize our days are precious, we begin to spend them differently. We become more intentional with our words, our relationships, and our time. We laugh a little more, forgive a little quicker, and appreciate the ordinary moments we might otherwise rush past.
Time itself is a gift from God. The future is also His gift. This world is not our final destination. We were created for something far greater than what we can see today. We were designed for eternity, yet God calls us to value the life He has given us right now.
So live your happiness. Celebrate the blessings God places in your path. Find joy in the ordinary moments. That doesn't mean life will always be easy. We will experience hardship. We will grieve. We will have days when happiness feels far away. Even Jesus experienced sorrow, exhaustion, betrayal, and pain.
But here's the beautiful promise: our suffering is temporary. God doesn't stand far away when we're hurting—His heart breaks with ours. He walks beside us through every difficult season while reminding us that something infinitely better is waiting ahead.
Today is a gift. Eternity is the promise. So let's make today count.
 
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Daily Inspiration from the Bible

home

Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior.
- Habakkuk 3:17-18 (NIV)
 
There is just something about coffee in Iowa. Most people probably won't understand that, but for me, that first cup of coffee at my in-laws' house is pure peace.
From the family room table, I can look out over what we affectionately call "the jungle." My father-in-law faithfully keeps the bird feeders full, so there is always something to watch. Birds flit from branch to branch, squirrels put on their daily acrobatic show, and every now and then another woodland visitor (even cats!) makes an appearance. Inside, the house is filled with the smell of fresh coffee while my mother-in-law is already in the kitchen baking or preparing one of the family recipes we've all come to love.
It's one of my favorite places in the world.
I'm probably never moving back to Iowa, but I treasure every visit.
Over the years, I've been blessed to see every season from that same window. I've watched snow blanket the trees at Christmas, admired the blossoms of spring, enjoyed the lush green days of summer, and smiled as autumn painted the landscape in brilliant shades of gold and crimson. Each season has its own kind of beauty.
Some years, though, we haven't been able to make the trip. COVID kept us home one year. Surgery kept us home another. Those were disappointing seasons, especially when our hearts longed to be with family. But those missed trips also reminded me that joy isn't found in a place or a schedule. It's found in the God who faithfully walks with us wherever we are.
Habakkuk understood that kind of faith. He wrote about empty fields, missing crops, and seasons that looked anything but hopeful. Yet in the middle of it all, he declared, "Yet I will rejoice in the Lord."
That's the kind of faith I want. A faith that gives thanks when the trip happens and a faith that still gives thanks when it doesn't.
Because my joy isn't rooted in perfect plans, favorite places, or familiar traditions - it's rooted in a faithful God who never changes.
Whether I'm sipping coffee in Iowa, sitting on my own back porch in Arkansas, or simply remembering the blessings of years gone by, I know this: God has been good in every season.
And He will be good in the seasons still to come.
 
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Daily Inspiration from the Bible

journey

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.
- Romans 8:28 (NIV)
 
One of my favorite weekends of the year is almost here—the annual quilt auction at Ingham Okoboji Bible Camp.
Over the years, it has become much more than a fundraiser. It's a family tradition. We spend the weekend at camp enjoying a Scandinavian dinner, listening to an incredible lakeside piano concert, cheering on runners in the 5K, bidding on beautiful handmade quilts, and most importantly, laughing with family and friends who have become family over the years. Some of my favorite memories have been made there.
For a long time, we built our vacation around that weekend. We'd spend a few days in Iowa, then head to Sturgis for the motorcycle rally before making our way to my husband's hometown for a week of relaxing before heading back home.
Every year looked a little different. Some years we rode our motorcycles the entire trip. Some years—yes, I'll admit it—we hauled our Harleys on a trailer. (I know... the shame!) A few years we even took the RV and made a whole new adventure out of it. The destination stayed the same, but the journey changed.
The last couple of years, though, we haven't been able to make the Sturgis trip or spend that extra week in Iowa. If I'm honest, that makes me a little sad.
It's easy to focus on what isn't happening anymore instead of appreciating what still is. But as I've thought about it, I've realized something important.
I may only see the part of the journey that's changed. God sees the entire road.
Maybe there are reasons I don't understand yet. Maybe He's protecting us from something we'll never know about. Maybe He's opening the door to a new tradition or a different adventure that we haven't discovered yet.
Romans 8:28 doesn't promise that everything will go according to my plans.
It promises that God is working through all things.
The joyful seasons, the disappointing seasons, the detours, the changes we never would have chosen.
Looking back over my life, I can see so many moments that didn't make sense at the time. If I had judged God's faithfulness by a single season, I would have missed the incredible story He was writing over the years. I'm thankful that God isn't just interested in one destination. He's interested in the whole journey.
And somehow, every mile—whether it's on a motorcycle, in an RV, or simply walking by faith—becomes part of the beautiful story He's creating.
 
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Daily Inspiration from the Bible

wait

Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.
- Psalm 27:14 (NIV)
 
My first job in corporate America was with Gateway Computers. Remember the cow-spotted boxes? Yep... I was one of the people on the other end of the phone.
Gateway was founded by Ted Waitt, and customer service was a huge focus of the company. Like many call centers, we were trained to answer calls quickly, gather information, and, when necessary, politely ask customers to hold while we found the right person to help them.
One story from our training has stuck with me for decades.
A representative answered a call and asked the customer if he would mind holding for just a moment.
The customer snapped back, "Wait, wait, wait! That's all I ever do! I want to speak to the president of the company. What's his name?"
The representative replied, "His name is Ted Waitt, sir."
After a long pause, the customer answered, "Well... that's appropriate!"
I still laugh every time I think about it.
The truth is, none of us likes to wait.
We wait for doctor's appointments, test results, job opportunities, repairs to be finished, and traffic to move. We stand in grocery store lines, wait for customer service to answer the phone, and count down the days until vacations, holidays, or family visits. Technology has certainly helped. We have telehealth appointments, self-checkout lanes, online ordering, and instant messaging, all designed to make us wait a little less.
Yet somehow... we're still waiting.
The hardest waiting, though, isn't standing in line. It's waiting on God.
Waiting for an answer, for healing, for direction, waiting for the next chapter to begin.
Psalm 27 doesn't simply tell us to wait—it tells us to "be strong and take heart." That's because waiting isn't passive. It's an active choice to trust that God is working, even when we can't yet see what He's doing.
Sometimes, God's greatest work happens in the waiting.
Waiting for a new job may help us appreciate the one we have today.
Waiting in traffic might delay us just long enough to avoid an accident we'll never know about.
Waiting through a difficult season can strengthen our faith in ways comfort never could.
Looking back over my own life, I can see so many times when I wanted God to hurry. At the time, I couldn't understand why the answer wasn't coming faster. But later, I realized His timing was protecting me, preparing me, or simply teaching me to trust Him a little more.
Maybe you're in a season of waiting today.
If you are, remember that while you may feel like nothing is happening, God is never standing still. He is working behind the scenes in ways we can't yet imagine.
His timing has always been better than mine... even when I had to wait for it.
 
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Daily Inspiration from the Bible

forgive

Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.
- Ephesians 4:32 (NIV)
 
Sunday, we visited a new church. It was a small congregation, but the message was anything but small. The pastor spoke about forgiveness through the parable of the unmerciful servant, and I've been thinking about it ever since.
He shared an illustration that really stuck with me.
Imagine a friend says, "I have a 40-foot pontoon boat, and I want to give it to you. No strings attached."
At first, that sounds like an incredible gift. But then reality sets in. You have to insure it, store it, maintain it, fuel it, clean it, and repair it. Suddenly that "free" boat isn't quite as free as it first appeared.
Then the pastor compared that free boat to salvation.
Before we met Jesus, we owed a debt we could never repay. In the parable, the servant owed his master an amount so enormous that he could have worked his entire life and still never paid it back. When he begged for mercy, the master forgave the entire debt.
What should have happened next?
Gratitude. Humility. Mercy.
Instead, the servant immediately demanded payment from someone who owed him a tiny fraction of what he himself had just been forgiven.
How often do we do the same thing?
We hold on to harsh words, broken promises, betrayals, and old wounds, all while forgetting the immeasurable debt Christ has already forgiven in us.
Salvation truly is a free gift. We could never earn it, and we could never repay it. But receiving that gift changes us. When we begin to understand the depth of God's mercy toward us, we can't keep extending bitterness to others. We are called to extend the same grace we have been given.
Forgiveness is one of the hardest things we'll ever do. It doesn't excuse what happened, erase the hurt, or mean there are never consequences. Sometimes forgiveness is a process that takes time. But God never asks us to give what He hasn't already given us first.
Today, if there's someone you've struggled to forgive, remember the grace you've received. The cross reminds us that while forgiveness is costly, Jesus already paid the price.
 
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Daily Inspiration from the Bible

even if

If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it, and He will deliver us from Your Majesty’s hand. But even if He does not, we want you to know, Your Majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up.
- Daniel 3:17-18 (NIV)
 
Have you ever noticed how much of life is spent saying, "I thought this would be finished by now?"
I thought the repair would be done, or this season would be over.
I thought the prayer would be answered and life would be a little easier by now.
Friday after work I picked up my vehicle, thankful to finally have it back. I didn't even make it out of the parking lot before I heard that familiar grinding noise coming from the front. Needless to say, it goes back to the shop today. It's disappointing, but if I'm honest, that's life. Things don't always happen on our schedule.
Friday night, my wonderful and amazing husband surprised me with a backyard date night. We watched I Can Only Imagine 2. If you haven't seen it yet, I highly recommend it. The movie hit a little close to home as Bart Millard, the lead singer of MercyMe, walks through his son's diabetes diagnosis while also facing a close friend's battle with cancer.
By the end of the movie, the song "Even If" takes on an even deeper meaning.
Faith isn't just believing that God can do something. Sometimes faith is trusting Him... even if He doesn't do it the way—or when—we hoped.
That reminded me of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego (Rack, Shack and Benny for us Veggie Tales fans!) in Daniel 3. Standing before King Nebuchadnezzar, they boldly declared that God was able to rescue them from the fiery furnace. But then they said something even more remarkable:
"But even if He does not..."
Their faith wasn't dependent on the outcome. They trusted God's character more than they trusted their circumstances.
That's a challenging kind of faith.
It's easy to trust God when the repairs are finished, the test results come back clear, the prayers are answered the way we hoped, and life falls neatly into place. But faith grows deepest when we can still say, "Lord, I know You are able... but even if things don't go the way I planned, I will still trust You."
Today, whatever your "even if" may be, remember that God's goodness isn't measured by whether everything works out according to our timeline. His presence, His love, and His promises remain faithful through every unexpected detour.
 
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Daily Inspiration from the Bible

holding both

Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.
- Romans 12:15 (NIV)
 
Well... we made it to Friday. The last two weeks have held a plethora of emotions. One day you're in a pool with your grandkids, laughing until your sides hurt. The next, you're praying over a friend with a difficult diagnosis. In between, you're dealing with everyday frustrations like car repairs and watching the weather radar.
Life rarely gives us a week that's all joy or all hardship. More often, it serves both at the same table.
The beautiful thing is that God is present for every conversation around that table. He celebrates with us when we laugh, and He sits beside us when we cry.
I think there are a couple of ways we can choose to live.
We can pretend everything is wonderful, putting on a smile while hiding the hard parts. Or we can become so consumed by life's struggles that we begin to believe everything is terrible.
Neither one tells the whole story. The better way is to hold both: gratitude and grief, hope and uncertainty, blessings and burdens.
Real faith doesn't require us to ignore pain, and it doesn't ask us to overlook the blessings either. It gives us permission to celebrate the good gifts God gives us while honestly bringing Him the things that break our hearts.
Wherever we find ourselves, it's important to keep the Lord at the center of our lives through every emotion. He doesn't ask us to have all the answers or to always understand His plan. He simply asks us to trust Him enough to walk with Him through it all.
As I look back on this week, I realize it wasn't perfect—and maybe that's the point.
There were cannonballs into the pool and conversations that broke my heart.
There were friends gathered around the table and storms rolling across the sky.
There were unexpected expenses and unexpected blessings.
Through every high and every low, God never changed. He was just as present in the laughter as He was in the tears, and that's the kind of faithfulness I want to remember.
As we head into a new week, my prayer is that we won't miss God because we're only looking for Him in one kind of moment. He is with us in the celebrations, in the waiting rooms, in the repair shops, in the storm shelters, around the dinner table, and in every ordinary day in between.
 
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Daily Inspiration from the Bible