There are moments in Scripture that stop us in our tracks—and the story of Abraham and Isaac is one of them.

God asked Abraham to take his promised son, Isaac, up the mountain and offer him as a sacrifice. It was a request that made the heart ache. Yet Scripture tells us Abraham obeyed. What often gets overlooked is how he obeyed—with faith so deep that it spoke even before the miracle came.

As Abraham prepared to leave, he told his servants, “Stay here with the donkey; I and the boy will go over there and worship and we will come back to you” (Genesis 22:5).
 

He didn’t say, “I will return.” He didn’t say, “Perhaps we will return.” He said with great confidence, “We will come back.”

Abraham trusted God completely. He believed that somehow—some way—the Lord would keep His promise. Hebrews later tells us that Abraham reasoned God could even raise Isaac from the dead if necessary (Hebrews 11:19). This was not blind obedience; it was obedience rooted in confidence in God’s character.

As they climbed the mountain, Isaac asked the question every parent fears: “Father…where is the lamb?” And Abraham answered with words that echo through generations: “God Himself will provide the lamb.” (Genesis 22:8)

At the moment Abraham raised the knife, the angel of the Lord stopped him. And there—caught in the thicket—was a ram.

The provision was already there.

God did not scramble at the last second. He had prepared the ram in advance. The test was never about the sacrifice—it was about trust. God wanted Abraham to know that obedience does not end in loss when the Lord is the one who sends you.

That is why Abraham named the place Jehovah-Jireh—“The Lord will provide.”

So often in our own lives, we climb mountains not knowing how things will turn out. We carry questions. We carry fear. We carry obedience that feels costly. But like Abraham, we are called to trust that God sees the whole picture—even the parts hidden in the bushes we cannot yet see.

The ram may not look like what we expected. The provision may not come how or when we imagined. But God is faithful to provide what is needed at exactly the right moment.

If you are standing on a mountain today—waiting, trusting, surrendering—know this: the ram is already there. The Lord has not forgotten you. He is not late. He is not careless with your heart.

Obedience opens the door for provision. Faith declares, “We will return,” even when the path ahead is unclear.

And just like Abraham discovered, the God who calls you up the mountain is the same God who meets you there.

Prayer:
Lord, help me trust You when obedience feels heavy and the outcome uncertain. Open my eyes to see Your provision, even when it is hidden. I choose to believe that You are Jehovah-Jireh—my Provider. Amen.

There is something sacred about opening the Bible—not just as a book, but as a conversation. When we sit with the Word of God each day, we are not simply reading ancient text; we are allowing God to speak into our present moment.

Scripture reminds us, “For the word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword…” (Hebrews 4:12). The Word is living. It breathes. It moves. It meets us exactly where we are.

That is why the same verse can feel different at different seasons of our lives. A passage you read in your twenties may have comforted you. That same passage, years later, may challenge you—or heal you—or gently correct you. The words have not changed, but you have. And God, in His perfect wisdom, uses the same truth to reach us in new ways.

This is the beauty of daily time in Scripture. God knows what you need today. Not yesterday. Not tomorrow. Today.

One person may read a verse and feel peace. Another may read it and feel conviction. Another may feel hope rising where despair once lived. This is not confusion—it is evidence of a living God speaking personally to His children. Jesus said, “My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me” (John 10:27). His voice often comes through His Word.

Reading the Bible daily is not about checking a box or completing a plan. It is about posture—showing up with an open heart and saying, “Lord, speak. I’m listening.” Sometimes the Word will affirm you, or sometimes it will stretch you. Sometimes it will sit comfort you while you grieve. All of it matters.

There are days when a single verse is enough to carry you through. Other days, a story unfolds that mirrors your own life so closely it feels as though God underlined it just for you. Scripture adapts to our circumstances not because it is a flexible truth, but because truth is eternal—and eternity touches every moment we live.

Psalm 119:105 says, “Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.” Notice it does not say a spotlight for the whole journey. Often, God’s Word gives us just enough light for the next step. That is why we return to it again and again. Daily dependence builds daily faith.

If you’ve fallen out of the habit of reading Scripture, begin gently. Start with a Psalm. Read the Gospels. Sit with one verse and let it speak. Ask God what He wants you to see—not what you want to rush past.

The Word of God is not meant to be distant or intimidating. It is meant to be close. Familiar. Alive. It is God’s way of reminding us that we are never walking alone.

When we stay in the Word, the Word stays in us—and over time, it shapes how we think, how we love, how we forgive, and how we hope.

Open your Bible today. Not for information—but for transformation.

Prayer:

Lord, thank You for Your living Word. Help me to hunger for it daily and to hear Your voice through it. Speak to me where I am, and shape me into who You are calling me to be. Amen.

Luke 1:26–38

There are moments in Scripture where heaven seems to bend low enough for us to touch it. One of those moments happened in a garden in Nazareth, when a young girl named Mary encountered the angel Gabriel.

She wasn’t royalty, or wealthy, or powerful in the eyes of the world, but Heaven saw her as the one. 

Mary was going about the ordinary rhythms of her day when the extraordinary arrived:

“Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.”  —Luke 1:28

Can you imagine hearing those words? Especially as a teenage girl, living in a humble village, suddenly visited by an angel with a world-shifting message.

We’re told Mary was “troubled”—and who wouldn’t be? In my own life experiences, I’ve learned that God’s call on our lives often begins in an unexpected, surprising, and overwhelming way. 

Gabriel tells her she will bear the Messiah—the Savior of the world. Her thoughts probably traveled rapidly from impossible to unlikely to unthinkable. The beauty of God is that He is never limited by human uncertainty. 

“The Holy Spirit will come upon you… For nothing will be impossible with God.”

God wasn’t asking Mary to understand every detail; He was asking her to trust Him enough to say yes. 

There are moments in our lives when God calls us into something we do not feel prepared for—
a new season, a change of direction, a challenge bigger than what we think we can handle.

Mary shows us that obedience isn’t about confidence in ourselves. It’s about confidence in God.

Her response remains one of the greatest declarations of faith in all of Scripture:

“I am the Lord’s servant… May it be to me as you have said.”
—Luke 1:38

Mary did not respond, “I understand everything.”

She didn’t say, “I feel ready and completely confident.” 

Mary simply said, “Lord, I am Yours.”

And when we answer like Mary, God will honor our faithfulness, and that’s where miracles begin.

Mary teaches us that God often speaks in unexpected ways – in ordinary spaces where we least expect divine interruptions. And when He calls us into something greater than ourselves, He also equips us, strengthens us, and walks with us.

Your “yes” may not feel big.  It may feel whispered, hesitant, or trembling—but God can use even a trembling yes to change the world.

Prayer

Lord, give me Mary’s courage to say yes even when I feel unprepared. Help me trust Your voice, embrace Your calling, and walk forward in faith. Let my life echo those precious words: “Let it be unto me.” Amen.

Luke 1:5–25, 57–66

Few stories in Scripture feel as human, as tender, and as reassuring as the story of Elizabeth and Zechariah. Two faithful servants of God. Two hearts that had prayed the same prayer for years. Two people who watched the seasons of life pass without the blessing they longed for.

Scripture says they were “righteous before God… blameless” (Luke 1:6), yet still, the cradle remained empty, the prayers seemed unanswered, and the silence from heaven felt long.

But heaven was not indifferent. Heaven was working behind the scenes. Zechariah was carrying out his priestly duty when the angel Gabriel appeared with a message that would shake the dust off every decade of disappointment: “Your prayer has been heard.” (Luke 1:13)

Gabriel expressed to Zechariah that God had held their prayer for a long time. He had not ignored their prayer or forgotten their pleas or dismissed their request. No, Heaven had heard their prayers. 

Sometimes the hardest part of faith is believing God remembers us when time goes on, and nothing changes. But Elizabeth and Zechariah remind us that delay is not denial—and silence does not equal absence.

When Elizabeth discovered she was expecting, Scripture tells us: “The Lord has done this for me.” (Luke 1:25)

Elizabeth’s gratitude for God was evident, and she understood that His timing was perfect. There was no bitterness that it had taken so long. There were no complaints that now she was old and the pregnancy was difficult. Elizabeth embraced God’s plan, although it was a different plan from hers. 

After months of silence, Zechariah’s first words were praise. His tongue was loosed when he agreed with God, writing that the child’s name would be John. Sometimes God gives us silence so we can learn to listen again—to His voice, not our fears.

Today, as you rise and begin your day, carry this truth:

God has not forgotten you. Your prayers are not lost. The silence you feel is not empty—sometimes it is preparation.

Elizabeth and Zechariah show us that God often does His deepest work in the waiting. And when the answer finally comes, it comes overflowing with purpose.

Prayer

Lord, help me trust You in the quiet seasons. Remind me that You see me, You hear me, and You are working in every chapter of my life—even the ones that feel still. Like Elizabeth and Zechariah, let my response be faith, gratitude, and praise. Amen.

Waiting is one of the hardest things God ever asks us to do. As humans, we really don’t mind moving forward or working hard. In actuality, we don’t even mind a struggle if we can see what’s ahead and what’s at the end. 

But waiting?  Waiting is one of the worst, nothing anyone can do about it feelings in the world. 

Scripture tells us over and over that God does His deepest work in the waiting.

“I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits, and in His word I put my hope.”
— Psalm 130:5

While many of us believe waiting is a waste of time, it never is. It’s the place where God strengthens faith, heals wounds, and prepares us for what’s next.

I think about all the times in my own life when I wanted answers right away — when I wanted clarity, healing, change, or a breakthrough. And God gently said, “Not yet.” Even now, as I type this devotion, I am living through such a season and have been waiting for quite some time. But, I know Who is in control. 

As I wait, I tell myself, “God is protecting me. God is preparing me. God is shaping things behind the scenes in ways I cannot see.”

It is easy to believe that nothing is happening. But spiritually? Everything is happening.

Waiting is where roots grow deeper, trust becomes real, and God removes what doesn’t belong and builds what does.

It’s in the waiting we learn to pray with honesty; to listen with humility; to surrender with peace; and to hope again, even when we’re tired.

And here’s the comfort: God is never late. Not once has He failed to show up at the exact moment we needed Him most.

If you’re in a waiting season today — waiting for answers, waiting for healing, waiting for restoration, waiting for direction — this is not punishment. It’s preparation.

Your story is developing. Your prayers are heard, and your life is not on pause.

You are in the hands of a God who uses waiting like a master craftsman — shaping, refining, strengthening, and aligning everything perfectly. And when the season shifts, and the door opens, and the answer comes, you will look back and say:

“Lord, You knew exactly what You were doing.”

Prayer

Father, help me trust You in the waiting. When my heart grows tired, remind me that You are working in ways I cannot see. Strengthen my faith, calm my spirit, and prepare me for the blessings You have already planned. I choose to wait with hope because I know You are faithful. Amen.

There are seasons in life when strength looks like courage and confidence, and there are seasons when strength looks like simply getting out of bed and choosing to try again.

Sometimes we underestimate what it means to be strong.  We believe strength means being in control. We think strength means not crying, not wavering, not needing help. But in God’s kingdom, strength looks different.

Scripture tells us,
“My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.”
— 2 Corinthians 12:9

God isn’t asking you to be strong on your own. He’s asking you to lean into His strength — the strength that meets you right where you are. 

There is a kind of holy strength that rises from within:

• When your heart is broken, but you choose to love anyway.
  
• When you’re afraid, but you step forward with trembling faith.
  
• When you’re exhausted, but you refuse to give up.
  
• When you’ve been hurt, but you forgive.
  
• When you’ve lost much, but you still thank God for what remains.
  

That is the strength heaven applauds, not the strength born from self-reliance, but the strength born from surrender. You don’t have to pretend you’re okay or hide your tears to be strong. You don’t have to walk through the valley with a forced smile to be strong.

God sees the battle behind your obedience. He sees the courage it takes to keep going, and He hears the prayer whispered through tears, “Lord, help me.”

The truth is, you have already survived moments you thought would break you and have overcome storms you thought would swallow you. You’ve already walked through seasons you never imagined you could endure.

Although you may be tired and bruised, you are still standing because God stood with you. Your strength has never been about your own ability — it has always been about His faithfulness.

When you feel weak, He carries you. When you feel lost, He guides you. When you feel overwhelmed, He steadies you. When you feel empty, He fills you.

And today, He wants you to know:
You are stronger than you know — not because of who you are, but because of who He is within you.

Let His strength rise in you today. Let His peace steady your spirit. Let His presence remind you that you are never fighting alone.

Whatever you’re facing, God will give you the strength you need — day by day, moment by moment, breath by breath.

You don’t have to have tomorrow’s strength today.  You only need enough for this moment —
and God will supply it.

Prayer

Lord, thank You for being my strength when I feel weak. Help me lean into Your power, not my own. Remind me that I am never alone, and that in every moment of weakness, You are working through me. Give me courage for today and peace for tomorrow. Amen.

A Thanksgiving Devotional

Thanksgiving has a way of stirring the heart. It brings a softness… a remembering… a sacred pause to look back over the journey that has shaped us.

Because the truth is, we are a compilation of every memory we carry —
the good ones that make us smile,
the painful ones that make us stronger,
the people who celebrated us,
and the people who broke us.

We are made, not from one moment, but from all of them.

Every person we have loved…
every person we have lost…
every season that held joy…
and every chapter that held tears…
God has woven them together into the story of who we are today.

But how do we turn our losses — the missing chairs at the table, the relationships that shifted, the memories that ache — into thankfulness?

It starts with acceptance. Not the kind that pretends nothing hurt. But the kind that acknowledges the truth quietly before God:

“Lord, thank You for the time we had together… and thank You for carrying me through the time apart.”

Gratitude grows when we realize that even the people we lost were gifts. Even the seasons that broke us taught us something eternal. And even the moments that hurt still held pieces of grace inside them.

We can look back and say:

• Thank You, God, that I was loved — even if the season ended.
  
• Thank You for the memories — even if they came with tears.
  
• Thank You for the joy — even if it didn’t last forever.
  
• Thank You for the lessons — even when they were hard.
  
• Thank You for carrying me — always.
  

Thanksgiving isn’t about ignoring the pain. It’s about remembering the goodness of God in every chapter, even the ones we wouldn’t have chosen.

We can be thankful for the laughter that once filled our homes. Grateful for the people who shaped our hearts — whether they stayed or only walked with us for a while. Grateful for the love we got to experience. Thankful that God held us through the disappointments. Grateful that He never wastes a tear, a moment, or a memory.

The beauty of gratitude is this:

It turns what we lost into something we got to have. It turns what hurt into something God healed. It turns what ended into something God is still using.

Every chapter…
every person…
every joy…
every heartbreak…
is part of the story God is writing — a story still filled with hope.

This Thanksgiving, may we pause and honor our journey with tenderness. Not rushing past the grief, not denying the ache, but allowing gratitude to rise gently:

“Thank You, Lord, for every memory that made me who I am…
and for every piece of Your grace that brought me this far.”

Because even the hardest stories have threads of God’s goodness woven inside them. Even the painful moments have purpose. And even the losses can become places of deep, quiet thanksgiving —
for the love we knew…
the lessons we gained…
and the God who carried us through it all.

---

Prayer

Father, thank You for my story — the joy, the pain, the people, the seasons, and the memories that shaped me. Help me see Your goodness in every chapter. Turn my losses into gratitude, my heartache into wisdom, and my memories into reminders of how faithfully You have carried me. Amen.

(Feel free to laugh. My children already have.)

Every family has their traditions. Some bake pies… Some watch football…
And I?  Well, I proudly put a 7-foot inflatable turkey in my front yard every Thanksgiving.

To the complete horror of my children.

Every year that turkey stood tall and proud — until one November when I couldn’t find him anywhere. I searched closets, the garage, the attic… and all the while my kids were “helping,” which looked suspiciously like standing still and praying the turkey had retired permanently.

I kept saying, “Look in the shed!”  “Check the basement storage closet!”  And my teenagers kept replying, “Hmm… nope… don’t see it,” with about as much enthusiasm as you’d expect.

I always put it in the same place every year after Thanksgiving. But mysteriously… the turkey had vanished.

So, as Thanksgiving approached, I resigned myself to buying a new one. Except… have you priced inflatable turkeys lately? Let’s just say inflation has hit the inflatables, too.

Then one day — like manna from heaven — I spotted the turkey at Goodwill. My turkey. THE turkey. The exact one.

I was ecstatic. Practically emotional. Goodwill even had the original box with it.

And on the back, written in Sharpie, clear as day: ALMAZAN.

My loving children had donated my turkey. To Goodwill. For $3.99.

So… I bought my own turkey back. I carried him home with dignity. Blew him up in the yard.
And when my teenagers asked where I found it, I said, “Oh, in the attic.”

And they all nodded. Not. One. Word.

Years later, after faithfully guarding my front yard, my turkey took his last inflatable breath and ascended to wherever giant yard turkeys go to rest.

But every Thanksgiving, when I see holiday decorations popping up everywhere, I remember him fondly…

My Goodwill turkey. My resurrected yard decoration. My $3.99 Thanksgiving miracle.

Hope your Thanksgiving is full of laughter, love, and maybe… just maybe… a giant inflatable turkey.

We live in a world that moves fast, reacts quickly, and often speaks before listening. A world where opinions spread like wildfire, and judgments are made without truth, compassion, or understanding. And sometimes — without even realizing it — we can get swept into that current.

But this is not the way of Jesus.

Scripture tells us, “Let your conversation be always full of grace…” — Colossians 4:6
And again, “Encourage one another and build each other up.” — 1 Thessalonians 5:11

Followers of Christ are called to a higher standard — a gentler standard. We are called to be a safe place in a world full of sharp edges.

1. Don’t Jump to Conclusions

It’s easy to assume the worst. It’s easy to fill in the gaps of someone’s story without knowing the facts, and easy to react to a rumor or a mistake with frustration or judgment.

But the Bible reminds us: “Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry.” — James 1:19

We rarely know the whole story. There is almost always more beneath the surface — pain, pressure, fear, trauma, misunderstanding, or a moment of weakness. Grace asks us to pause… and to withhold judgment until we know the truth.

2. Don’t Tear Others Down

The world is harsh enough. People carry wounds we never see — the last thing they need is a Christian adding to their hurt. When we speak, we should leave people better than we found them. Our words should not bruise — they should build – not crush — but comfort – not shame — but strengthen.

If our words don’t heal, they don’t reflect Him.

3. Care for Those Being Treated Badly

Jesus always moved toward the hurting — the woman caught in adultery, the leper cast out, the tax collector despised by his community. He never joined the crowd of accusers. He defended the vulnerable. He stood between the broken and the stones being thrown.

We are called to do the same. Sometimes kindness looks like sitting with the rejected. Sometimes love looks like speaking up when others are silent. Sometimes compassion looks like saying, “Enough. This isn’t right.”

4. Love Those Who Have Made Mistakes

People will fail.  People will stumble. People will make choices we can’t understand.

But Jesus never turned away from the repentant. He never humiliated the broken. He never posted about people’s failures for the world to see.

Grace doesn’t condone sin — but it does restore sinners.

5. Don’t Join the Crowd When Accusations Start

Crowds are loud. Crowds feel powerful. Crowds love a spectacle. But Jesus never followed the crowd — He confronted it.

When the Pharisees dragged the woman before Him and demanded judgment, Jesus knelt down in the dirt and dismantled their fury with one quiet sentence:

“Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.”

Before we join the crowd, Christ asks us to examine our own hearts.

6. Don’t Blast People on Facebook

Social media has become a place where people’s reputations can be destroyed in seconds. But as Christians, we carry a responsibility to use our platforms carefully. We are called to be peacemakers, not instigators. Encouragers, not accusers.

If a post doesn’t edify, heal, or honor God, it likely shouldn’t be posted.

7. Be the People Who Lift Others Up

The world needs more encouragers. More listeners. More gentle spirits. More people are willing to step out of the crowd and say, “Let’s choose grace today.”

We cannot control what others do, but we can choose the spirit we bring into the room — or onto the screen. Let us be people known for compassion. People who look for the good. People who slow down before speaking. People who defend the hurting. People who restore the fallen.  People who love like Jesus.

Prayer

Lord, make me a person who brings peace, not division. Give me a heart slow to judge and quick to show grace. Help me speak words that heal, protect those who are mistreated, and love those who have stumbled. Let my life reflect Your compassion in every conversation, every choice, and every post. Amen.