• Surprise. I am mommy.

    And lately, I needed to remember that.

    I started this blog fifteen years ago simply because I needed somewhere to process what God was doing in my heart. But as time goes on and seasons shift, it is amazing how easy it is to forget the “why” behind something.

    Yesterday, as I was going about my day, the Lord gently reminded me of my origin story.

    Back then, I was physically exhausted and emotionally overwhelmed, sitting in a rocking chair at 2 a.m., asking God, “Why is this so hard?”

    Writing became the way I centered myself again. It brought me back to what I actually needed, which was not more control or parenting books, but God.

    As a visual learner, writing has always helped me hold onto what God was teaching me. In college, I was the note-taker. Everyone wanted to see what I wrote down. My handwriting has never been impressive, and writing at the speed of light to keep up with professors certainly did not improve it. But I captured everything.

    That habit carried into my Christian walk. I have stacks of notebooks filled with sermon notes, podcast reflections, Bible study observations, and prayers scribbled in the margins. Page after page of what the Lord was teaching me in different seasons.

    This blog and website were born from a deep need to preach the gospel to myself every day.

    The more I write down what the Lord is showing me, the more I remember it in practice, not just in theory. There is something deeply comforting about going back and reading words written in earlier seasons of motherhood. I can see where I struggled. I can see where He was faithful. I can see growth I did not notice at the time.

    Sharing what the Lord shares with me is simply an extension of His love. Not just for me, but for you. He uses each of us as reflections of the Holy Spirit within us. In His kindness, He allows our obedience to become someone else’s encouragement. This is one of the ways He brings heaven to earth.

    This space may look like I am serving others. And I am. But it is also one of the ways the Lord serves me. Writing forces me to slow down, to sift through what is true, to come back to Him. In giving, I am also being formed.

    And I wonder if the same is true for you.

    Whatever you offer in your home, your church, or your friendships may be shaping you more than you realize. The Lord is refreshing your soul even as you care for someone else’s.

    So let me ask you something.

    What have you been doing lately that might actually be drawing you closer to Him?

    It is a good reminder that the work before us is not only about caring for others. It is one of the tangible ways the Lord deepens our dependence on Him. Sometimes the shift we need is not in our schedule, but in our perspective. It may simply mean fixing our gaze upward again and seeing what we are doing through the lens of a loving Father.

    Is that easy for you to grasp? That God loves you?

    It is not always easy for me.

    Which is exactly why He keeps leading me back to this space. To write it down and remind myself again and again that His love for me is not based on performance or dependent on productivity. It is not earned by spiritual effort.

    His love is rooted in who He is and in the original intention with which He created me. Before I accomplished anything. Before I mothered anyone well or poorly. Before I served, wrote, led, or tried to fix anyone, He loved me.

    He loves me because He is love.

    He created me on purpose, not as a project to manage but as a daughter to cherish. That means I do not wake up each morning trying to secure His love. I wake up already held by it. My obedience flows from being loved, not from trying to be lovable.

    As 1 John 4:19 reminds us, “We love because he first loved us.”

    When I forget that, I start striving. When I remember it, I start abiding.

    And abiding is living from love instead of working for it.

    Thank you, Jesus, for your gentle reminders.

    One day at a time,

    fixing your eyes on Jesus,

    abiding to thrive.

    xo,

    Paula

  • The amount of pressure we place on ourselves as moms is a heavy load.

    Now combine that with being a Christian mom.

    Mom guilt thought it was big and bad until it met Christian mom guilt! Somewhere along the way, we started believing that if we love Jesus, we should be doing more, fixing more, serving more, advising more, and holding more together.

    But where in Scripture are we told to strive harder and carry everything ourselves?

    We are not.

    Jesus says something entirely different:

    “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me… For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
    — Matthew 11:28–30

    His burden is light. Not crushing or suffocating. Not built on performance or endless effort. It is light because He carries what we cannot.

    And yet, so many of us live as though Jesus handed us a longer checklist instead of an invitation to rest.

    The Fixer Trap

    How often do we place pressure on ourselves to fix other people?

    We jump in with advice. We analyze. We anticipate outcomes. We try to manage other people’s growth, healing, or spiritual maturity. Sometimes we call it love.

    But what if love looks more like pointing than performing?

    There have been many seasons when friends regularly came to me for advice. At the time, I assumed that was completely normal. I listened. I processed. I offered what I thought was wise counsel.

    And then I started to feel resentful.

    When the same patterns repeated.
    When the same mistakes resurfaced.
    When the conversations circled back again.

    If I am being honest, there were moments I thought, Why are you coming to me if you are not going to take my advice? Why are you wasting my time?

    But the real issue was not them.

    It was me.

    I was trying to be their savior. And that will never work.

    I was not meant to carry the weight of changing someone’s life. I was meant to carry the Holy Spirit within me and use His wisdom to gently point people back to Him, not to what I thought they should do.

    Yes, the Lord will sometimes give us something clear and timely to say. He absolutely uses us. But more often than not, the wisdom He gives is quieter than the advice culture we have grown used to. It is less about managing someone’s behavior and more about reminding them who God is.

    Advice-giving has become normalized. But discipleship is different.

    And I had to learn the difference.

    When we take on roles that belong to God, we eventually collapse under the weight.

    Psalm 55:22 reminds us:

    “Cast your burden on the Lord, and he will sustain you.”
    — Book of Psalms 55:22

    It does not say, “Carry everyone else’s burden so they do not have to.” It says cast. Release what was never yours to control and trust the One who truly sustains.

    Boundaries Are Not Unspiritual

    A life without boundaries is a life with more than enough problems. Too many times we become fixers instead of encouragers.

    And even when we encourage, we need to ask ourselves: Are we pointing someone to Christ and their identity in Him, or are we subtly pointing them to ourselves and our opinions?

    True encouragement reminds someone of who God is and what He says about them. It strengthens their dependence on Christ, not on us.

    There is a difference between walking alongside someone and positioning ourselves as their solution.

    If Not Me, Then Who?

    Here is the question that often drives our exhaustion: If I do not step in, who will?

    But maybe that question reveals something deeper. Maybe we struggle to believe that God is actually at work apart from us. Maybe we forget that the Holy Spirit is far more capable of conviction, comfort, and transformation than we are.

    The Gospel frees us from being the savior in every story. We already have one.

    I write from a place of been there, done that. I do not have the T-shirt. Well, actually I do, but it has stains and holes and is not one you would want to wear. The only thing I wear proudly is the gospel that saved me.

    This is not false humility. It is surrender to the one true thing that will sustain us all: the Gospel.

    Christ has already carried what we were never meant to hold. So maybe the better question is not, “If not me, then who?” Maybe the better question is, “Jesus, what have You actually asked of me today?” And then trust Him with the rest.

    One day at a time, fixing our eyes on Jesus, abiding to thrive.

  • Even when it feels slow, confusing, or unfair, the waiting God allows in your life is never without purpose.


    I have never met anyone who enjoys waiting.

    I think our shared dislike of waiting is one of the common bonds of humanity. The line at the grocery store. Traffic. A returned text message that never seems to come. Waiting rarely feels pleasant.

    Unless we shift our focus.

    Very few things in life are exactly what they seem. Taking things at face value works sometimes, but ultimately we have to look beyond what we can see. We have to put on our kingdom lens, so to speak, and ask what God might be doing underneath the surface.

    When He has us in a season of waiting, we can conclude a few things:

    • He loves us and is a good Father
    • He has our best interest at heart
    • He knows more than we do
    • He is sovereign

    Knowing these things about God does not automatically make waiting easy, but it does steady us. It reminds us that something deeper is happening.


    He Loves Us

    This is the foundational truth everything else in our life should be built on.

    It changes the way we see ourselves. It changes the way we see our circumstances. It changes the way we interpret delays and detours.

    If love is what motivates our Creator, then even when things are not going our way, we can rest. Not because it all makes sense. Not because it feels comfortable. But because we know His heart.

    Scripture tells us:

    “But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”
    — Romans 5:8 (ESV)

    And again:

    “See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are.”
    — 1 John 3:1 (ESV)

    If you have children of your own, it is a little easier to grasp this kind of love. You would move heaven and earth for them. You protect them. You guide them. You say no sometimes. You let them wait sometimes. Not because you enjoy their disappointment, but because you can see what they cannot see.

    Even loving my own children more than I can put into words, I still sometimes find it hard to fully comprehend that kind of love from God. It feels almost too steady. Too faithful. Too constant.

    But His love is not based on my performance. It does not fluctuate with my obedience. It is not pulled back when I question Him.

    When we are waiting, we are still loved.
    When we are confused, we are still loved.
    When we do not understand, we are still loved.

    Waiting does not cancel love. Sometimes it is an expression of it.


    He Has Our Best Interest at Heart

    When I think about God’s intentions toward us, one verse comes to mind immediately:

    “And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.”
    — Romans 8:28 (ESV)

    All things.

    The betrayal.
    The diagnosis.
    The prayer that feels unanswered.
    The opportunity that slipped through your fingers.

    How can so much pain and suffering exist under the authority of a good God?

    We have to put our eternal, kingdom-focused lens back on. God is not the author of confusion or chaos, but that does not mean He does not use both to accomplish His purposes. He wastes nothing.

    “For God is not a God of confusion but of peace.”
    — 1 Corinthians 14:33 (ESV)

    Nothing touches our lives without first passing through His hands. That does not mean we will understand it in the moment. It does mean we can trust that He sees the whole picture.

    Waiting may feel like a detour. It may actually be direction.


    He Knows More Than We Do

    Do you ever question God? Not just His timing, but His ways?

    You are not alone.

    We tend to turn to God most when we feel out of control or at the end of ourselves. The truth is, we are more dependent than we realize. We hold tightly. We try to manage outcomes. We convince ourselves that if we just try harder, we can secure the result we want.

    But that kind of striving rarely brings peace.

    Isaiah reminds us:

    “For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
    neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord.
    For as the heavens are higher than the earth,
    so are my ways higher than your ways
    and my thoughts than your thoughts.”
    — Isaiah 55:8–9 (ESV)

    And Proverbs says:

    “Trust in the Lord with all your heart,
    and do not lean on your own understanding.
    In all your ways acknowledge him,
    and he will make straight your paths.”
    — Proverbs 3:5–6 (ESV)

    If He sees the beginning and the end, and we only see what is right in front of us, then maybe waiting is not something to resist. Maybe it is something to surrender to.


    He Is Sovereign

    God’s sovereignty is something I still try to grasp daily.

    It does not just mean God is in control. It does not just mean He is all-knowing. It does not just mean He is all-powerful. It goes deeper than all of that.

    In one of his sermons, Charles Spurgeon, the English preacher and theologian, said:

    “There is no attribute of God more comforting to his children than the doctrine of Divine Sovereignty. Under the most adverse circumstances, in the most severe troubles, they believe that Sovereignty hath ordained their afflictions, that Sovereignty overrules them, and that Sovereignty will sanctify them all.”

    That should give us comfort.

    Our wills, ways, and whims do not overpower God. We cannot derail His plans. In other words, we are not as important as we sometimes think we are.

    We get wrapped up in pride and forget that the clay does not tell the potter how to shape it.

    “But now, O Lord, you are our Father;
    we are the clay, and you are our potter;
    we are all the work of your hand.”
    — Isaiah 64:8 (ESV)

    We do not supersede Christ.

    Waiting may feel like everything has stopped, but it has not. God is still working. He is still ruling. He is still accomplishing His purposes, even in the pause.

    And that is not meant to discourage us. It is meant to steady us.

    Shift the lens.

  • There is a version of the gospel many of us learned once and quietly set on a shelf.

    It saved us.
    It changed us.
    And then life got busy.

    Motherhood has a way of filling every empty space. Our minds are crowded with schedules, decisions, expectations, and the constant pressure to do enough and be enough. Somewhere along the way, the good news becomes background noise instead of daily bread.

    That is why we need to preach the gospel to ourselves.

    Not because we have forgotten the words, but because we forget the truth.

    The Gospel Is Good News for Today

    The word euangelion means “good news.” The gospel is not just information about salvation. It is a person. Jesus Himself is the gospel.

    From the very beginning, God made a way. In Genesis 3:15, right in the middle of brokenness, God promised a Rescuer. Adam and Eve’s sin was not just disobedience. It was a failure to trust God. And if we are honest, that same struggle shows up in our own lives.

    We doubt His goodness.
    We question His timing.
    We try to carry what was never meant for us to hold.

    Every page of Scripture points to the hope of “the One” who would come to rescue and redeem. That hope is Jesus.

    Grace Alone, Faith Alone, Christ Alone

    The gospel reminds us that salvation is not something we earn. It is something we receive.

    By grace alone.
    Through faith alone.
    In Jesus Christ alone.

    Because of Christ’s holiness, we are justified. That means we are made right with God, not because of our performance, but because of His finished work. On the days when you feel like you failed before breakfast, this matters.

    You are not standing before God based on how well you handled today.
    You are standing before Him clothed in Christ.

    The Slow Work of Sanctification

    After justification comes sanctification. This is the ongoing work of the Holy Spirit in us. It is slow. It is often quiet. And it usually happens right in the middle of ordinary life.

    In motherhood, sanctification looks like choosing patience when you are tired.
    It looks like turning to truth instead of shame.
    It looks like learning, again and again, to trust God in small moments.

    The Holy Spirit is at work, shaping us to become more like Jesus and loosening the grip of sin over time. This is not instant. It is daily. And it is enough.

    The Hope That Is Still Coming

    One day, we will experience glorification. One day, we will be fully free from sin and fully whole in the presence of Jesus. But until that day, we live in the in between.

    We preach the gospel to ourselves when fear creeps in.
    We preach the gospel to ourselves when we feel unseen.
    We preach the gospel to ourselves when motherhood feels heavy.

    The gospel is not just what saves us.
    It is what sustains us.

    So today, take a breath.
    Lift your eyes.
    Remind your heart of what is true.

    One day at a time,
    lifting our eyes back to Jesus,
    abiding to thrive.

  • Learning to trust God with what’s ahead

    “Therefore, stop worrying about tomorrow, because tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”
    Matthew 6:34

    Last week, while walking and meditating on this verse, the Lord placed a word in my spirit: forecasting.

    To forecast is to predict what is coming next.

    And without realizing it, that is often what worry looks like.

    When we worry about tomorrow, we are filling the unknown with assumptions shaped by what we have already lived through. For many of us, this happens in the middle of ordinary life, while managing households, caring for our families, and trying to hold everything together.

    Most of the time, our forecasts are not hopeful. They are shaped by past disappointments or present struggles. Slowly, that is where trouble begins.

    When We Forecast Without God

    When we try to predict our own future, a few subtle shifts happen in our hearts.

    We begin to guess instead of trust. We lean on experience rather than truth. God’s Word reminds us where truth is found.

    “Sanctify them by the truth; your word is truth.”
    John 17:17

    Our past and present circumstances are not indicators of what is to come. Struggle does not get the final word. Failure does not get to define your future. Even what you are walking through right now does not limit what God can still do.

    When we forecast this way, we can quietly leave God out of the picture. We assume we already know how the story will unfold. God reminds us that He is still writing it.

    God Is Doing Something New

    Scripture speaks directly to our tendency to look backward in order to predict forward.

    “Don’t remember the prior things; don’t ponder ancient history. Look! I’m doing a new thing; now it sprouts up; don’t you recognize it? I’m making a way in the desert, paths in the wilderness.”
    Isaiah 43:18–19

    God is not limited by what has been. Fear, strongholds, addiction, disruption, financial strain, sickness, or exhaustion do not have to define what is ahead.

    Freedom is possible in Christ.

    God is not asking us to ignore reality. He is inviting us to stop forecasting a future without Him in it and to trust that He is already at work.

    A Prayer

    Lord, I confess how often I try to predict what is coming next.
    I fill the unknown with fear and past experience instead of trust.
    Help me release my need to control tomorrow.
    Teach me to stay present with You today.
    Remind me that my story is still unfolding in Your hands.
    Amen.

    God is already in your tomorrow.
    You do not have to forecast it.
    You only have to walk with Him today.

    One day at a time,
    lifting our eyes back to Jesus,
    abiding to thrive.

  • Finding peace with God when the next step feels unclear

    “Answer me quickly, Lord.
    Do not hide your face from me.
    Show me the way I should go,
    for to You I entrust my life.”

    Psalm 143:7–8

    “Do not hide Your face from Your servant,
    for I am in distress.
    Answer me quickly.”

    Psalm 69:17

    Do you ever find yourself unsure of what to do next? When you are facing a decision and longing for clarity, moments like that can feel heavy, especially when they are time-sensitive. A move. A job offer. A lease that needs to be signed. A pregnancy. Choosing a school. The weight of deciding can feel overwhelming, especially when you are already carrying so much as a mom.

    For many of us, these moments happen in the middle of ordinary life. While packing lunches. Folding laundry. Lying awake after the house is finally quiet. We are doing our best to be faithful, but still wondering which way to go.

    In those moments, it can feel like we are crying out into silence. Like we need an answer now and are afraid we might miss it.

    But here is the good news.

    God is not hiding from us. He is not distant or withholding. He is present. He is near. And while some answers take time, God is faithful to give us what we need for today. Not always the full picture, but the next faithful step.

    Prayers and Fasting

    When you need guidance, start by being specific with God. Write down exactly what you are asking Him for. Name the decision. Name the fear. Name the hope. Pair your prayers with Scripture that reminds you of who God is and how He leads His people.

    You may also feel led to fast during this season. Fasting does not have to look the same for everyone. It could be a meal, a certain type of food, sugar, social media, television, or your phone. Fasting is not about punishment or performance. It is about creating space. Space to listen. Space to notice. Space to remind your heart where your dependence truly lies.

    Put in the Work

    This part is not about proving anything to God. You never have to earn His love, attention, or approval.

    This step is for you.

    Putting in the work can be as simple as surrendering your worries and laying them at His feet. It can look like obedience when God nudges you toward something small but uncomfortable. It is about choosing a posture of dependence and undistracted attention.

    That might mean getting on your knees, sitting quietly alone, opening your Bible, journaling specific prayers, listening to worship music, or taking a slow walk outside. Do whatever helps you quiet the noise and turn your heart toward God.

    Be still. Be honest. Be present.

    Peace

    Peace is often the byproduct of time spent with the Lord.

    Prayer leads to breakthrough.
    Breakthrough leads to peace.

    Peace does not always mean you suddenly have every answer. Sometimes it simply means assurance. A calm confidence that you can take the next step. That you do not have to stay frozen in fear. That God is leading, even if the path unfolds one step at a time.

    What decision are you holding right now that you need to place back into God’s hands?

    When peace comes, you can move forward trusting that He is with you.

    A Prayer for today

    Lord, I need You right now.
    I confess that my heart feels overwhelmed and unsure.
    I bring my questions, my fears, and my decisions to You.
    Help me slow down and listen for Your voice.
    Show me the next right step, even if You do not show me the whole picture.
    Teach me to trust You with my timing, my plans, and my life.
    I place my dependence fully on You.
    Amen.

    You are not alone in your waiting.
    God is near. He is speaking. And He is faithful to lead.

    One day at a time,
    lifting our eyes back to Jesus,
    abiding to thrive.

  • Learning to listen without striving

    “After the fire came a gentle whisper.”
    1 Kings 19:12

    There are seasons when God feels loud and near. And then there are seasons when He feels quiet.

    Not distant. Just quiet.

    In those moments, it is easy to wonder if we are doing something wrong. If we missed Him. If we are failing at faith. Especially as moms, when life is noisy and our attention is constantly divided, we can start to believe that hearing God clearly is only for people with more time, more margin, or more spiritual discipline.

    But Scripture tells a different story.

    God often speaks in a whisper.

    Making Space

    Hearing God does not start with striving. It starts with space.

    Space to slow down.
    Space to be honest.
    Space to stop filling every quiet moment.

    Sometimes making space looks like sitting with just your Bible and a notebook. Sometimes it looks like turning off worship music and letting silence feel uncomfortable for a moment. Sometimes it looks like stepping outside or sitting alone after the house finally quiets.

    God is not impressed by noise. He meets us in willingness.

    Trusting What Is True

    God speaks in many ways. Through Scripture. Through prayer. Through the Holy Spirit’s quiet prompting. Often, He speaks more gently than we expect.

    When we are unsure whether we are hearing Him, we can always return to what we know is true.

    God will never contradict His Word.
    He will not rush you with fear.
    He will not confuse you into paralysis.

    His voice brings peace, even when the path forward is unclear.

    Abiding, Not Striving

    There is freedom in remembering that hearing God is not a formula to master. It is a relationship to grow in.

    Some days, abiding looks like clarity.
    Other days, it looks like trust without answers.

    God is not withholding Himself from you. He is present, even when He feels quiet. Sometimes the work He is doing is not in giving direction, but in shaping our dependence.

    A Prayer

    Lord, help me slow down enough to notice You.
    Quiet the noise around me and within me.
    Teach me to trust that You are speaking, even when I do not hear You clearly.
    Help me rest in Your presence instead of striving for certainty.
    I want to abide with You, right here, right now.
    Amen.

    You do not have to hear everything at once.
    You do not have to figure it all out.

    God is near. He is gentle. And He is faithful to meet you as you make space for Him.

    One day at a time,
    lifting our eyes back to Jesus,
    abiding to thrive.

  • Sometimes I ask the question quietly,
    sometimes I ask it out loud.

    Is it You, Lord?
    How do I know?

    I can get caught up in my feelings and emotions so easily. I know what I think is right, but am I actually hearing from God, or am I just hearing myself?

    I ask Him for a sign, or a knowing, and sometimes it feels like He gives it to me. A sense of peace, a nudge, a moment that feels clear. And then, almost immediately, doubt creeps back in.

    What if I’m wrong,
    what if I made this up,
    what if this is just my flesh, my desire, my fear talking?

    I want to be sure. I want certainty. I want some kind of guarantee before I move forward.

    But I’ve learned something over time. I’m not sure that kind of certainty is even promised this side of heaven.

    And that’s usually when I decide to take a baby step.

    Baby steps still count

    A baby step sounds small, almost insignificant, but I’m learning there are no leaps of faith without a series of baby steps that led the way.

    We love to celebrate the big leap, the bold obedience, the dramatic yes, but we rarely talk about the quiet, ordinary steps that came first.

    Think about something that feels like a huge leap of faith. Taking a new job, moving to a different state, starting something new that feels risky or uncertain.

    From the outside, it looks like one big jump.

    But usually, it started much smaller.

    A realization that what you were doing no longer fit,
    a conversation with your spouse or someone you trust,
    updating a resume, exploring options,
    responding to an email,
    having a conversation,
    then another one,
    and finally, a decision.

    What looks like a leap was actually built on a lot of small, faithful steps.

    Trust grows with movement

    Here’s what I’m learning. God often builds trust as we move, not before.

    He doesn’t always give us the whole picture. Instead, He invites us to walk with Him, step by step, learning to trust His voice along the way.

    Baby steps aren’t a lack of faith. They’re often faith in its earliest, bravest form.

    They sound like this:

    God, I’m not totally sure, but I want to trust You,
    so I’ll take the next best step I know how to take,
    and I’ll watch for You there.

    You don’t have to figure out the leap today. You just have to take the next small step of obedience He’s placing in front of you.

    A gentle question

    What’s the next best thing you can do right now?

    Not the whole plan,
    not the five-year vision,
    not the leap.

    Just the next step.

    Trust often grows in motion.
    Clarity often comes after obedience.
    And God is faithful to meet us in the small steps, not just the big ones.

    A prayer

    God,
    I want to hear You clearly,
    I want to trust You fully.

    When doubt creeps in and certainty feels far away,
    help me take the next small step instead of standing still.

    Teach me to trust You one moment at a time,
    to walk with You instead of waiting until I feel completely sure.

    Meet me in the baby steps,
    and lead me where You’re going.

    Amen.

    One day at a time,
    lifting our eyes back to Jesus,
    abiding to thrive.

  • A few years ago, when my daughter was ten, she said something that caught me off guard.

    She told me it felt like God was demanding. Almost egotistical. Why would God want our praise and worship so badly?

    In the moment, the only thing I could think to say was that He is God Almighty, the Creator of the entire universe, and that He deserves our praise.

    But later, her words stayed with me.

    Because if I am honest, I have wondered the same thing. And I know I am not alone. Sometimes, especially in the middle of motherhood, it can feel like God is asking a lot. Worship Him. Trust Him. Glorify Him in everything. When we are tired, that can feel heavy.

    God did not give me an answer right away. He rarely does. There was no big revelation that day or even that month. He worked slowly, in His own time and in His own way.

    But over time, something became clear.

    God does not ask us to glorify Him because He is self-absorbed. He invites us to glorify Him because He loves us.

    Don’t Waste Your Life by John Piper helped put words to what my heart was learning. The author explains that God, calling us to worship Him, is actually an act of love. We were never meant to find lasting satisfaction in ourselves, our circumstances, or even the good gifts God gives us.

    Love is doing what is best for someone.
    But making self the object of our highest affection is not best for us. It is a lethal distraction.

    We were made to see and savor God. In savoring Him, we are satisfied.

    To make people feel good about themselves when they were made to feel good about seeing God is like taking someone to the Alps and locking them in a room full of mirrors.

    In creating us for His glory, He is creating us for our highest joy.

    He is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in Him.

    We were made to find joy in Him.

    When we place ourselves at the center, we grow weary. When we chase fulfillment in things that cannot hold the weight, we end up empty. Even good things can leave us wanting more.

    Scripture reminds us where fullness is found:

    “You will show me the path of life.
    In Your presence is fullness of joy.”
    Psalm 16:11

    What glorifying God looks like in everyday life

    This does not mean adding more to your plate.

    It looks like choosing gratitude in the middle of ordinary days.
    It looks like trusting God when the answers are unclear.
    It looks like loving people well, right where you are.
    It looks like using the gifts God has given you, even when they feel small.
    It looks like worship that shows up as surrender.

    Scripture tells us, “Whatever you do, do it for the glory of God.”

    That includes the unseen moments. Changing diapers. Making dinner. Folding laundry. Sending the encouraging text. Taking a deep breath and trying again.

    There is a song by Steven Curtis Chapman called Do Everything that captures this so well. Everything really does mean everything.

    We cannot glorify God on our own. We need Him living within us to do that. And when we ask for His help, He meets us with grace. Glorifying God is not about striving harder. It is about staying close to the One who satisfies. Abiding.

    A prayer for today

    God,
    Thank You for loving me enough to invite me into joy.
    Help me stop chasing what cannot satisfy and lift my eyes back to You.

    Teach me to glorify You in the ordinary moments.
    In my home, in my motherhood, and in the quiet places no one sees.

    Help me remember that You are where fullness lives.
    Amen.

    One day at a time, lifting our eyes back to Jesus, abiding to thrive

  • Some days I find myself asking a question I do not always want the answer to.

    Do I trust God,
    or do I trust God to do what I asked?

    As a mom, it is easy to blur the line. We pray for our kids, our marriages, our energy, our finances, our healing. We pray for sleep. For peace. For things to feel lighter. And when they do not, disappointment can settle in quietly.

    There was a season when the song Even If by MercyMe made me uncomfortable. I did not want to sing the words. I wanted God to do what I was asking. The “even if” felt like too much surrender.

    Then one night, I woke up with the lyrics looping through my head. Not loudly. Gently. Like an invitation.

    I know You’re able and I know You can
    Save through the fire with Your mighty hand
    But even if You don’t
    My hope is You alone

    Even if You don’t.

    Even if You do not fix the thing I am carrying.
    Even if You do not change the situation right away.
    Even if You are quieter than I hoped.

    Still, my hope is You.

    I am learning that trusting God and trusting Him to do what I asked are not the same thing. That realization has been both humbling and freeing.

    When I trust God, I remember who He is.
    That He is good, even on hard days.
    That He is in control, even when I feel overwhelmed.
    That His ways are better, even when I do not understand.
    That He is God, and I am not.

    But when I trust Him mainly for the outcome, my heart feels different. I notice frustration when prayers feel unanswered. I feel the urge to take control. I realize how quickly surrender can turn into striving.

    And so I have been asking myself this, one day at a time.
    Is my hope in God, or in what I want Him to do for me?

    Another song has become a quiet prayer for me. More Than Anything by Natalie Grant puts words to what my heart needs:

    Help me want the Healer more than the healing
    Help me want the Savior more than the saving
    Help me want the Giver more than the giving
    Oh help me want You, Jesus, more than anything

    That is the prayer I keep coming back to. Not because I have mastered it, but because I need it. Especially in motherhood, where so much feels out of my control.

    So if you are tired, waiting, or quietly disappointed today, I want to ask you gently.
    Are you seeking God’s hand, or are you seeking God Himself?

    He invites us to seek Him.
    And He promises to take care of us, one day at a time.

    A simple practice for today

    You do not need a lot of time or a quiet house for this. Just a moment of honesty. Fill in the blanks with a truth for yourself.

    I know You are able to:


    But even if You don’t, You are still:


    A prayer for today

    Jesus,
    You see me in the middle of this season.
    You know what I am asking for and why it matters to me.

    Help me trust You, not just for what You can do,
    but for who You are.

    When I feel disappointed, remind me that You are still good.
    When I want control, help me open my hands.
    When answers feel slow or different than I hoped,
    help me lift my eyes back to You.

    Even if You don’t,
    help my hope remain in You alone.

    Amen.

    One day at a time.
    Lifting our eyes.
    Choosing to trust Him, even when we don’t understand.