caught off guard

God is our refuge and strength, always ready to help in times of trouble.
- Psalm 46:1 (NLT)
 
The world as we know it can change in a second. Last week, the world lost an icon when Dolly Parton passed away after a brief battle with cancer. Dolly was never shy about her faith in God, who she was, or where she came from. Even after becoming one of the most recognizable people in the world, she never seemed to forget that little girl from the mountains of Tennessee. Knowing how openly Dolly spoke about her faith, I can imagine her receiving that diagnosis and thinking, “Well, OK, Lord. How are You going to use me in this?”
We may never know that answer. But we do know how God used her life. Her legacy reaches far beyond music—from childhood literacy and education to medical research and healthcare, disaster relief, community assistance, and conservation.
None of us knows what tomorrow will bring. Sometimes we can see the storm clouds gathering. Other times we're standing there wondering, Where in the world did THAT come from? A diagnosis. A phone call. A bill. A relationship problem. A literal or figurative storm.
We may be caught off guard. God never is.
Psalm 46 doesn't promise that trouble won't come. It tells us where to go when it does.
God is our refuge, God is our strength, and He is always ready to help.
We don't have to understand the storm to trust the One who wasn't surprised by it.
 
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Daily Inspiration from the Bible

go

Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit
- Matthew 28:19 (ESV)
 
And just like that...it's Friday again. Yesterday we talked about settling the question of who Jesus is. Today, Jesus gives us an assignment.
Go.
Matthew 28 is an incredible moment. The disciples are standing before the risen Jesus. Some worshiped. Some doubted. Surely they could have stayed there awhile, simply taking it all in. But Jesus doesn't allow the encounter to become the destination. He gives them a commission. Go and make disciples.
Encounters with Jesus are important. So is being equipped. We need church. We need worship, teaching, fellowship, encouragement, and opportunities to grow together.
But most of our lives happen outside the church.
Let's do some math. (because everyone who knows me, knows that I do not math under any circumstances!) If we live 80 years, that's roughly 29,200 days. There are about 4,160 Sundays in those 80 years.
That's only about one-seventh of our life. What are we doing with the other six-sevenths?
Our assignment isn't simply to get someone to come to church with us. Moving someone from one church to another might increase attendance, but Jesus didn't tell us to collect attendees.
He told us to make disciples.
That requires more from us.
It means building relationships. Walking alongside people. Praying together. Opening Scripture together. Answering questions—and sometimes searching for the answers together. It means continuing to grow in our own faith while helping someone else grow in theirs.
God gives us spiritual life, but we have to participate in it.
Sunday equips us for the assignment, but Monday through Saturday are where much of that assignment is lived. At work. At home. In our neighborhoods. With our families. In conversations with friends. Even with the person who tests our patience in traffic. We don't just go to church, we are the Church—and we have somewhere to go.
So take what God has given you, step outside those walls, and live your assignment.
After all, six-sevenths of a life is a whole lot of opportunity.
 
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Daily Inspiration from the Bible

questions

And when they saw him they worshiped him, but some doubted.
- Matthew 28:17 (ESV)
 
This verse has always fascinated me. The disciples weren't hearing stories about Jesus from someone else. They had walked with Him. They had heard Him teach. They had watched Him perform miracles. They knew He had been crucified. And now the resurrected Jesus was standing right in front of them. They worshiped Him. But some doubted.
If people standing in the presence of the risen Jesus could still have questions, maybe we shouldn't be surprised when we have them too.
Can God really do this?
Does God really do this?
Is what I believe really true?
Questions aren't necessarily the enemy of faith. Questions can send us searching for answers. They can lead us deeper into Scripture, into prayer, into conversations with other believers, and into church where we can learn and grow.
But eventually there is one question we have to settle:
Who is Jesus?
Because our circumstances will constantly try to answer that question for us. When prayers aren't answered the way we expected, when life hurts, when we're disappointed, discouraged, or ready to quit, it's easy to allow what is happening around us to change what we believe about Him.
But circumstances change. Jesus doesn't.
Knowing who Jesus is doesn't mean hard things stop being hard. We will still experience pain. We'll have unmet expectations. We'll get discouraged. There will be days when we want to quit. Faith doesn't require us to pretend otherwise. It gives us something solid to stand on while we're going through it.
So ask your questions. Search Scripture. Pray. Learn. Grow.
But settle the most important question.
Know who Jesus is.
Then when everything around you feels uncertain, you won't have to redefine Him according to your circumstances. You can set your mind on what you already know to be true—and keep going.
 
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Daily Inspiration from the Bible

hiding

On the evening of that day, the first day of the week, the doors being locked where the disciples were for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said to them, “Peace be with you.”
- John 20:19 (ESV)
 
I have not always been very good at standing up for myself. Actually, if I'm being truthful, there have been plenty of times when I've allowed people to walk right over me—or use me as a convenient stepping stone on their way to wherever they wanted to go.
I wish I could say that changed completely as I got older. It hasn't. I still sometimes find myself allowing other people to dictate what happens because speaking up feels uncomfortable. Sometimes it's easier to keep quiet. Go along. Don't cause conflict. Don't make anyone upset. In other words, sometimes I still hide.
In John 20, the disciples were hiding too. Their reasons were certainly bigger than mine. Jesus had been crucified. They were afraid, and they had every reason to wonder what might happen to them next. So they gathered together and locked the doors. Then Jesus showed up. I love that He didn't wait outside until they found enough courage to unlock the door. He met them where they were hiding. And His first words weren't criticism. “Peace be with you.”
But Jesus didn't give them peace so they could become more comfortable behind the locked door. Just two verses later, He tells them, “As the Father has sent me, even so I am sending you.” In other words, you can't stay here. That challenges me.
Because hiding doesn't always look like sitting behind a locked door. Sometimes hiding is staying quiet when we know we need to speak. Sometimes it's letting someone else make a decision that affects us because we're afraid of confrontation. Sometimes it's allowing ourselves to be overlooked or mistreated because keeping the peace seems easier than standing our ground. And sometimes we call it being flexible, easygoing, or gracious when the truth is that we're afraid of what might happen if we finally say, “No.”
There is a difference between being gracious and making ourselves smaller so everyone else can be comfortable. Living with conviction doesn't mean becoming loud, argumentative, or unwilling to compromise. It doesn't mean we always have to get our way. It means knowing what we believe. Knowing who we are in Christ. Knowing when something matters enough to stand our ground—and trusting God enough to stand there.
Jesus will meet us behind our locked doors. He will bring peace into the places where fear has kept us quiet. But He loves us too much to leave us hiding there.
So maybe today the question isn't What are you afraid of? Maybe it's simply: Are you hiding?
Because there comes a time when we have to unlock the door, step outside, and live with conviction. I'm still learning how to do that. But I think it's time for me to stop hiding.
 
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Daily Inspiration from the Bible

running

Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it.
- 1 Corinthians 9:24 (ESV)
 
I started running in 2013. Now, before anyone gets too impressed, let me clarify something: I was not fast.
I ran several 5Ks, two Warrior Dashes, a Color Run, a Glow Run, and I even managed one 10K. Randy ran the Warrior Dashes with me. Our youngest son, who ran cross country in high school like his dad did, ran several races with me—although “with me” is generous. He usually ran somewhere ahead of me. Even our middle son joined me a couple of times.
The one consistent thing through all those races was my time. It wasn't great.
I was never last, so I have that going for me, but nobody was standing at the finish line wondering whether I'd broken a course record. But I trained. I showed up. I ran. And I finished.
A few weeks ago, Randy ran his first 5K since 2014. With basically no training whatsoever, he finished with a better time than I ever did. Did I mention that I always trained?
I'm incredibly proud of him. Slightly annoyed on principle, perhaps, but incredibly proud.
When Paul talks about running in 1 Corinthians, he tells us to run that you may obtain the prize.
That makes me think about all those races and ask a question I probably didn't ask often enough:
What was I running for?
I was never going to win my age group. I wasn't chasing a medal for fastest time. I wasn't trying to beat Randy or my sons or anyone running beside me. For me, finishing was the prize. Crossing that finish line proved something to me. I had set out to do something difficult, and I had done it. Even when my time wasn't good, I finished. Even when I hurt, I finished.
Our walk with Christ deserves that same kind of intentionality. Do we know why we're running? Are we actually running—or are we standing on the sidelines watching everyone else? Are we so busy looking at the people in the lanes beside us that we've forgotten where our own finish line is? And most importantly, do we know what prize we're running toward?
Faith isn't a competition with the person beside us. Someone else's pace doesn't diminish our progress. Someone may appear to be farther ahead. Someone may seem stronger. Someone may make something look effortless that requires everything we have.
That's okay.
God didn't give us someone else's race. He gave us ours. Paul wasn't telling us to casually wander through our faith and hope we eventually stumble across the finish line. He said run. Run with purpose. Run knowing what you're pursuing. Run like reaching the finish line matters.
There will be days when the race feels easy and days when every step hurts. There will be people who pass us and seasons when we wonder whether we're making any progress at all.
Keep your eyes on the prize.
Because sometimes winning isn't being the fastest person on the course. Sometimes winning is knowing why you started, refusing to lose sight of where you're going, and crossing the finish line knowing you gave the race everything you had.
 
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Daily Inspiration from the Bible

traffic

Enthusiasm without knowledge is no good; haste makes mistakes.
- Proverbs 19:2 (NLT)
 
Driving in Northwest Arkansas is not for the faint of heart. I have come to the conclusion that if I make it to my destination without cussing somebody out, it was a good drive. Don't judge me. I'm working on it.
There always seems to be someone driving ten miles under the speed limit when I'm in a hurry, someone changing lanes without looking, someone riding my bumper, or someone who apparently believes a turn signal is optional equipment. And don't even get me started on the person who races around you just to end up sitting at the same red light.
But if I'm being fair, sometimes I'm the problem. Sometimes I didn't leave early enough. Sometimes I'm watching the clock. Sometimes I'm annoyed with someone for simply being in front of me because I've decided that where I need to go is more important than whatever they're doing. And all that rushing usually saves me what—two minutes?
Proverbs tells us that haste makes mistakes. That's true behind the wheel, but it's also true in life. We live in a world that constantly tells us to hurry. Hurry to work. Hurry home. Hurry through dinner. Hurry to the next appointment, the next accomplishment, the next season of life. Even when we aren't physically going anywhere, our minds can be racing ahead to whatever comes next. But what are we missing because we're so determined to get there?
Sometimes slowing down isn't about the speedometer. Sometimes it's taking a moment before responding when someone makes us angry. It's praying before making a decision instead of rushing into one. It's giving someone a little grace because we don't know what they're carrying. It's recognizing that being delayed isn't the same thing as being harmed. And maybe it's remembering that God isn't only concerned with where we're going. He's concerned with who we're becoming on the way there.
There will always be another slow driver. Another red light. Another interruption. Another person who doesn't move according to our timetable. We can spend the entire journey frustrated that everyone else is in our way, or we can slow down enough to recognize that the journey is part of where God is working in us.
The goal isn't simply to get there quickly. It's to get there safely, faithfully, and without allowing the journey to turn us into someone we don't particularly like.
And if I can manage that without cussing anyone out? Well...I'd call that a pretty good drive.
 
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Daily Inspiration from the Bible

continuous

Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.
- 1 Thessalonians 5:16–18 (NIV)
 
And just like that...it's Friday again. Looking back over this week's "Daily Breads", I noticed something I hadn't planned. Not much went according to plan.
We've spent a couple of years looking for a church home we thought would be easier to find.
We spent sixteen exhausting hours moving our kids on one of the hottest days of the year.
A tiny bird landed right in the middle of those moving plans and needed a little help.
Then there were broken coolers and missing coffee ingredients.
None of those things went exactly the way I would have chosen. And yet, it was still a good week.
First Thessalonians tells us to rejoice, pray continually, and give thanks in all circumstances.
Not for all circumstances. In them.
I can be thankful while we're still searching because God is with us in the search. I can be thankful for sore muscles because they mean our kids are closer. I can be thankful for the tiny interruption that reminded me God can see what I can't. And yes, I can apparently even find something to be thankful for when they are out of the coffee.
Maybe I've been measuring good days by the wrong standard. A good day doesn't require everything to go right. A good week doesn't require everything to happen according to plan. And a good life certainly doesn't require the absence of inconvenience, disappointment, or change. It simply requires us to keep looking for God in the middle of it all. And when we do, we may discover there was a lot more good in our week than we realized.
 
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Daily Inspiration from the Bible
 

without

Do everything without grumbling or arguing.
- Philippians 2:14 (NIV)
 
Can you imagine walking into your favorite coffee shop only to discover they're out of the main ingredient needed to make your drink? It happened to me. Then, the next day, I stopped somewhere to grab lunch for a group of people and discovered an entire section of food was unavailable because the cooler was broken.
Seriously?
Now, neither of these things qualifies as an actual crisis. I survived both incidents. But isn't it funny how quickly a tiny inconvenience can change our attitude?
Philippians tells us to do everything without grumbling or arguing. Everything, Paul? Apparently, that includes coffee shortages and broken coolers.
It's easy to think our faith is demonstrated primarily in the big moments—how we respond to loss, uncertainty, fear, or major changes. But most of our lives aren't made up of big moments. They're made up of traffic lights, long lines, messed-up orders, broken appliances, changed plans...and places that are out of the one thing we stopped there to get.
Maybe those little inconveniences are opportunities to practice something bigger: Patience. Grace. Gratitude. Perspective.
I didn't get what I wanted that day. But I had plenty of other choices. I could be irritated about what wasn't available—or grateful for what was.
And perhaps that's something worth remembering the next time life tells us “Sorry, we're out.”
 
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Daily Inspiration from the Bible

a little bird

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him,     and he will make your paths straight.
- Proverbs 3:5–6 (NIV)
 
Saturday night, sometime around midnight, we pulled into our kids' new neighborhood with another load of their belongings, and right in the middle of their driveway sat the tiniest little finch. She let me walk right up to her without moving. With people unloading trailers and carrying furniture into the garage in the dark, I knew someone could easily step on her. So I picked her up. She was NOT happy about it. She squawked, struggled, and tried to fly away—but she couldn't. I moved her into the bushes near the front door where she'd be out of the path of all those busy feet. She didn't understand that I was trying to protect her, but I could see what she couldn't.
The next day we returned to help unpack, and there she was again, this time sitting on the sidewalk. I started toward her, planning to move her back to safety. But this time, she flew, not very far—but farther than she could the night before.
Proverbs tells us to trust in the Lord rather than leaning on our own understanding. That's difficult when we don't understand why something in our lives is changing.
Sometimes we squawk and struggle because we don't want to be moved from the place where we've gotten comfortable.
But we only see where we're sitting - God sees everything around us.
Maybe the place we desperately want to stay isn't where we need to remain. Maybe the change we're resisting is leading somewhere we can't see yet, and maybe we're not ready to soar today.
That's okay - sometimes faith is trusting the One who can see what we can't—and discovering that today, we can fly just a little farther than yesterday.
 
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Daily Inspiration from the Bible

moving

Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.
- Galatians 6:9 (NIV)
 
We spent this past weekend helping our youngest son and his family move to a new home in a new city.
And when I say move, I mean MOVE. A moving van. A truck with a trailer. A Bronco with a trailer. Three SUVs. Two trips between two cities and two houses about twelve miles apart. We packed, loaded, hauled, unloaded, and cleaned for sixteen hours—on the hottest day of the year. By the time we finally dropped into bed, every muscle seemed to have an opinion about how we'd spent the day. And the next morning? Time to unpack. But here's the thing: I'd do it all over again. Because those sore muscles came with something pretty wonderful—our kids and grandkids are closer to us now.
Galatians tells us not to become weary in doing good. I usually think about that spiritually: serving, ministering, helping others, doing the things God calls us to do. But maybe it applies to ordinary days, too.
Sometimes doing something good is exhausting. Sometimes love looks like carrying another box when your arms already hurt. Sometimes serving someone means giving up your comfortable Saturday. Sometimes the blessing doesn't make the work easier—it simply makes the work worth it.
We are going to get tired in this life. Maybe the better question is whether we're getting tired doing something that matters. Because some things are simply worth being tired for.
 
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Daily Inspiration from the Bible

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.
 
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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.
 
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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.
 
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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.
 
#dailybreadbykitty
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.
 
#dailybreadbykitty
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.
 
#dailybreadbykitty
Daily Inspiration from the Bible