When a landlord leases out the building he owns to someone else, he gives the new tenant all of the authority and rights to do what they want with the house. But, if that tenant subleases the house, they have to hand over their keys as well as their permission and authority. So, imagine that God is the perfect landlord of the perfect earth. He leased it to Adam, therefore giving him the eternal keys to His house and dominion over all of the things in it forever. His desire was for mankind, as His image bearers, to reflect His character to the world as they walked in friendship and fellowship with Him. But when Adam sinned, he lost the keys.
I was recently reading in Proverbs 31, which praises the virtuous woman—both a picture of the perfect wife and a symbol of the bride of Jesus—and the Lord revealed to me that I am called to be more than just a virtuous bride: I am also meant to be a warring one.
The Hebrew word used to describe the bride in these verses (chayil) is most often used in connection with military prowess and depicts a wife who is a force of might, power, ability, efficiency, and righteousness; full of substance and integrity—with the strength of an army. The same word is used over 200 times throughout the Old Testament and depicts valor, or great courage in battle. It is frequently used to describe men and soldiers; however, in Proverbs, it is used to describe the bride. The church.
I pray for Heaven to meet earth.
I pray that every single person reading this has an encounter with the resurrection power of Jesus Christ. I pray that it manifests as the miracles, signs, and wonders they have been praying for so that there is an opportunity to believe in a new and deeper way. Because that kind of encounter is what gives us access to the faith and courage it takes to forsake everything else as we surrender to Jesus. That kind of encounter is what gives a hurting and broken world a taste of kindness from a faithful God. So Lord, may we taste and see that You are good! May we bear witness to the resurrected Christ. May we shout to those around us that Jesus is alive and so, so worthy of our surrendered life.
“How would God tell your story?“
I was recently challenged in a Bible study to share my version of my salvation story with God and then invite Him to share His version with me. I put it off for a while, but I finally sat down to share it with Him one night last week, and joked, “How long do You have, God?”
I then proceeded to tell Him exactly how I remembered my story:
Our words have power. Proverbs 18:21 confirms this: “Death and life are in the power of the tongue.” And before we dive into taking thoughts captive and destroying strongholds, it’s important to acknowledge that Satan does not have the same power we do. His words don’t hold the same weight as ours, so he only gets power when we speak his words for him. He wants us to do his dirty work. So, he frequently attacks us through thoughts and thought patterns because it is human nature to believe and say whatever we think or feel, and we give power to whatever we speak.
First and foremost: I do not want to share this. But I am going to, because when I started this blog and this ministry, I promised to always yield to what I felt like the Holy Spirit wanted me to say. Please know that while anyone and everyone is welcome here, this post is specifically addressing Christians. And, unfortunately, I’m going to address the elephant/donkey in the room. Politics.
Endurance – ability to resist, withstand, recover from, and have immunity to trauma, wounds, or fatigue.
In Hebrews 12, we are called to run with endurance the race that is set before us. So right now—in the middle of a worldwide crisis—what does it look like to endure? How do we become immune to trauma, or wounds, or fatigue?
If there was one truth I could pass along to everyone that I come into contact with, it would be this:
For God SO LOVED the world.
You say that all I have to do is call to You, and You will tell me things I do not know.
So, tell me: Where are You?
I can’t read the news anymore. There’s so much pain in the world right now, and I can’t help but wonder—where is Your light? You say You have overcome the world, but we still have to live in it, and it is so very broken. I tell my children that You are a good and loving God who will protect them. But then, in the same breath, I have to explain why they aren’t allowed to see their friends or be near their grandparents.
“Ministry without prayer is the highest form of arrogance.”
I have this quote framed and sitting on my desk. I’ve decided I also need it written on my hand, taped to my computer, and stamped on my forehead.
Because in a world where every best-selling book is telling me to be self-confident, self-reliant, and self-sufficient, it’s easy to forget that the Bible preaches a different message.
“I said yes to God’s calling, BUT…”
I can’t count the number of women I’ve talked to recently who are currently in this boat.
I found myself in Mark 5 this morning, reading about Jesus raising the young girl from the dead. All He had to do was take her by the hand and say, “Little girl—get up!” and immediately, she stood up and began to walk around.
Maybe you know that Jesus wants to resurrect you from something—He’s telling you to get up—but you don’t see the fruit.
If you back up a few verses, notice what Jesus did right before He healed the girl: He pruned. When He told the crowd that she was not dead but asleep, they laughed at Him. So He told them to get out. Scripture says He put them all outside before going upstairs with the child’s mother, father, and the disciples who were with Him. Then He revived the girl.
We were never meant to be separated.
Not from God, and not from each other. That wasn’t the plan God had for His creation.
We weren’t supposed to lose our mothers, fathers, children, spouses, siblings, or friends. God never wanted us to carry that kind of grief. Our hearts know it—that’s why there is something in us that cries out, “This isn’t right,” when our loved ones are stolen from us. And as we struggle with our sorrow, sometimes we can’t help but wonder how a good God could let us suffer.
I feel like a child, reaching for His hand, urging Him to follow me.
“Come on, Jesus! I need You to help me.
I know that You can fix this if You can just get here.
Please, Jesus! I’m begging you to hurry!”
And then the moment passes.
The unthinkable happens, and I sink to the ground in despair.
It’s too late—He was too late.
“No one will love you until you learn to love yourself.”
This 👏🏼 is 👏🏼 not 👏🏼 true 👏🏼
In Luke 17:1, Jesus says it is impossible that no offenses will come. In Greek, the word for offenses can mean hindrances, obstacles, or stumbling blocks. And that’s what the spirit of offense does—it hinders our walk with Christ.
I don’t know about you, but sometimes when I am offended, I lose my religion. I can be having a full-on spiritual revival in my car, listening to my worship music, and feeling the very presence of God. But when someone cuts me off without using a blinker, suddenly my heart loses focus, and I’m yelling out, “Jesus, you better take the wheel because I’m about to rear-end a Pharisee!”
When I first met my pastor, he prayed over me and my husband, Matt.
The two of them had grown up together, but he didn’t know me very well, and I could tell because he specifically prayed over a ministry I was going to have one day while speaking to a crowd. I remember smiling and nodding while thinking, “You have SO got the wrong girl.”
My skeptical response was a reaction based on where I was in my walk with Jesus at the time.
You see, my salvation did not meet my expectations.
My husband and I are complete opposites.
We have stumbled upon this truth often throughout our marriage, but one of our most noticeable differences is our approach to money.
⚠️ Caution: Airing of dirty laundry ahead ⚠️
Growing up, many of the people closest to me disapproved of sharing unpleasant or private things in a public manner. And I understand why.
But I’m going to do it anyway.
Over the past few months, the Holy Spirit really convicted me about my spirit of defense. I frequently felt the need to deflect, deny, or defend, instead of trying to listen with an open heart or empathize with someone’s pain. So many times, I rolled my eyes at something on social media, only to feel a tug in my spirit: Your experiences do not negate someone else’s. So I finally sat down and spent some time in prayer.