Mommy Needs Jesus

The gospel does not just save us from sin; it moves us from slavery to sonship and invites us to live from a new identity in Christ. If Christ has already set us free, why do so many of us still live as though we are bound?

We all want freedom.

But what is freedom, really?

True freedom is being released from our ultimate captor: death.

So how do we walk in freedom?

Through the resurrection of Jesus.

His death was sacrificial.
His burial was purposeful.
His resurrection proved His power as God.

And that same power now lives in us.

Scripture shows us that the Spirit who raised Jesus from the dead dwells within believers. This is not symbolic or poetic language. It is real, living power. Yet for many Christians, it remains unused, like potential energy waiting to be activated.

“The Spirit of God, who raised Jesus from the dead, lives in you. And just as God raised Christ Jesus from the dead, he will give life to your mortal bodies by this same Spirit living within you.” (Romans 8:11)

This truth is the foundation of kingdom living. It begins with recognizing what has already been given to us.

We do not have to wait until death to walk in resurrection life. We have already been raised with Christ and seated with Him now. “For he raised us from the dead along with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms because we are united with Christ Jesus.” (Ephesians 2:6)

To be dead to sin, we must be alive in Christ. To deny the flesh, we must walk in the Spirit. And to walk in the Spirit, we must belong fully to Christ.

This requires a shift in how we think. Transformation happens through the renewing of our minds by the Word.

“Let God transform you into a new person by changing the way you think. Then you will learn to know God’s will for you, which is good and pleasing and perfect.” (Romans 12:2)

What does this look like practically, in everyday life?

Slavery does not mean being forced against our will. It means our wills are bound to what we love most. Kingdom living, on the other hand, means belonging to the King. We were created to serve something. When we choose to serve God, we discover true freedom.

Our flesh tells us that being a slave to anything is bondage. Yet there is true freedom in belonging to Christ.

Honoring Him as my Redeemer, the One who purchased me, deepens my worship and my ability to love God with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength.

God does not leave us in the position of a slave. He advances our standing with Him, drawing us closer into relationship and inheritance. Scripture shows this progression clearly.

We move from:

• Servant to steward, entrusted with responsibility
• Servant to friend, invited into intimacy
• Servant to son or daughter, welcomed into the family
• Servant to heir of God, a joint heir with Christ

This progression reveals the heart of God. He does not redeem us simply to control us. He redeems us to draw us close, to entrust us with His work, and to share His inheritance with us.

We are either slaves to sin or slaves to God. When we choose God, He frees us from one master and binds us to Himself through a greater promise: eternal life.

Slavery does not mean being forced against our will. It means our wills are bound. We are drawn either to the rewards of sin or to the beauty of righteousness. In both cases, we do what we desire most.

The atonement of Jesus, His suffering in the garden and His death on the cross, was the price paid to purchase us. Scripture tells us plainly that we are not our own.

“You are bought with a price” and “You are not your own.” (1 Corinthians 6:19–20)

The gospel is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes.

Jesus did not preach primarily about going to Heaven someday. He preached about Heaven coming to earth. He taught us that this is God’s will.

We participate in this by preaching the gospel and making disciples. The gospel restores people to God, and the Spirit empowers the Church to go. Before He ascended, Jesus told His followers to go to the ends of the earth. He placed His Spirit within His people and entrusted them with the mission.

Human language struggles to fully express kingdom truth. Because of its negative connotations, the word “slave” can be difficult to understand.

We can only serve one master.

Our master is either sin and death or life and resurrection. Satan or Jesus.

We will belong to one.

True freedom is found in choosing Christ.

Before you move on, take a moment to ask yourself where God may be inviting you to live as an heir instead of a slave. Offer that place to Him, and take one small step of surrender today.

A Prayer for Freedom and Surrender

Jesus,
Thank You for the freedom You purchased for us. Thank You that You did not just save us from something, but invited us into new life with You.

Help us remember that the same power that raised You from the dead now lives in us. When we feel tired, overwhelmed, or stuck, remind us that we are not walking this life alone or in our own strength.

Teach us to surrender daily, not out of fear or obligation, but out of love and trust. Renew our minds through Your Word and help us choose You over the voices of the flesh, distraction, and fear.

Thank You for calling us not only servants, but friends, sons, daughters, and heirs. Help us live from that identity and walk in the freedom You have already given us.

We choose You today.
We receive Your life, Your freedom, and Your grace.

Amen.

What is hope? I believe it is essential to living a life of meaning and purpose. Without it, we slowly give up. We surrender, convinced that we or our situation are too far gone. When hope fades, despair quietly moves in.

The first time I listened to the song Desperate by Jamie MacDonald, one line came stopped me in my tracks:

“I prayed all the prayers I can pray,
But I won’t stop knocking ’til You open the door.”

Those words immediately brought me to Matthew 7:7:
“Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you.”
This verse is an invitation to hope. A reminder that we are encouraged to keep coming to God, even when answers feel delayed.

Psalm 121:1–2 echoes that same reassurance:

“I lift up my eyes to the hills.
From where does my help come?
My help comes from the Lord,
who made heaven and earth.”

We cannot outrun God. He will not let us. We are His. Like a loving parent watching children on the playground, He gives us room to move and explore, but when darkness approaches, He gently gathers us close and brings us home.

Recently, two conversations stood out to me. One was with a friend as I shared about a physical challenge I was facing. In the middle of the conversation, she said something simple yet powerful: “The good news is it’s never too late to reverse that.” Those words lingered with me.

Not long after, a friend shared something very different. With honesty and heaviness, she said, “It’s too late for me. I’m too far gone.”

Two people I love. Two very different places of the heart.

The situations were not the same, but the contrast was striking. One conversation was marked by hope. The other was marked by discouragement. It made me pause and ask, how often do we decide the ending before God has finished writing the story?

So what is your one thing? What is quietly pulling you toward hopelessness right now? My guess is you have been trying to fix it, manage it, or push through it on your own, and you are exhausted. Maybe you have reached the point where you realize you cannot do it anymore. Frustration sets in. Fear follows close behind. Hope begins to feel fragile.

I have been there. I have lost hope. I have lost the will to try. I have lost the spark I once had. When the weight felt too heavy, I crawled into bed and tried to hide.

Proverbs 13:12 says,
“Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a desire fulfilled is a tree of life.”
Another translation says, “Hope delayed makes you sad.”

Is that where you are today? Tired of waiting? Tired of knocking? And yet, the words of that song still ring true: “I won’t stop knocking until You open the door.” That kind of persistence is what Scripture calls endurance.

Paul reminds us in Romans 5 that endurance produces character, and character produces hope. And this hope will not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit.

Every day, the Lord places a choice before us. We can lean into His grace or try to carry it alone. His voice is always near, gently offering us a way forward filled with hope.

Isaiah 30:21 says,
“This is the way. Walk in it.”

And Deuteronomy 31:6 assures us,
“The Lord is the one who goes before you. He will be with you. He will not leave you or abandon you. Do not be afraid or discouraged.”

The question is not whether He is near.
The question is whether we will stay close to Him.

Lord, You see the places in our hearts where hope feels thin and waiting feels heavy. You know the doors we have been knocking on and the weariness we carry. Help us believe again that it is not too late. Teach us to trust You in the waiting, to listen for Your voice, and to stay close to You when answers feel slow. We place our hope in You today. Amen.

Abiding to Thrive

I was lying in bed when the Lord showed me a picture.

He asked me to remember the last time I felt truly close to Him. A moment I could not deny His presence. Maybe it was during worship when tears streamed down my face, or in a quiet moment when joy filled my heart unexpectedly. I remembered times when my heart pounded and my senses felt alive, when I felt warm, held, and completely engulfed in His love. Those moments feel sacred, and we often wish we could stay there.

Then He asked me to picture a time when I felt very far from Him. A season marked by shame or regret. A moment when guilt weighed heavy and prayer felt out of reach. I wanted closeness, but I did not know how to find my way back. As moms, those moments often come after losing our patience, saying something we wish we could take back, or feeling like we are falling short of the calling God has given us.

Next, He invited me to consider how I felt in the present moment. Not especially joyful or deeply discouraged. Not overwhelmed with guilt or overflowing with peace. Just here. Existing. Caring for kids, managing schedules, folding laundry, making meals, and trying to keep up. Not particularly close to Him, but not far either. Just living in the middle of ordinary life.

And then the Lord gently showed me something I needed to understand.

Everything I had described was rooted in feelings.

Feelings matter, but they are not truth. They shift with exhaustion, stress, hormones, and the constant demands of motherhood. God’s Word, however, does not shift. It remains steady when we do not.

So He brought me back to what Scripture says about His presence once we have received Him.

“Surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age” (Matthew 28:20).

“Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you” (Hebrews 13:5).

“Don’t you know that you yourselves are God’s temple and that God’s Spirit dwells in you?” (1 Corinthians 3:16).

God does not come and go based on how connected we feel. He is not closer on the days we have uninterrupted quiet time or pray with focus and clarity. He is not farther away on the days we feel distracted, weary, or spiritually dry. His presence is constant.

This is where abiding begins.

Abiding is not striving to feel close to God. It is resting in the truth that He is already near. When we stop chasing spiritual highs and start trusting His promises, we create space to thrive. Not because life becomes easier, but because we are no longer carrying it alone.

Abiding to thrive often looks quiet. It looks like trusting God’s nearness while doing ordinary things. It looks like believing truth over feelings, especially on the days when motherhood feels unseen and our hearts feel tired.

And maybe that is exactly where real growth happens.

A Closing Prayer

Lord, thank You that You are with me always, even when I do not feel it. Help me stop measuring Your presence by my emotions and start resting in Your truth. Teach me what it means to abide in You in the middle of motherhood, in the ordinary and the unseen moments. When I am tired, remind me that You are near. When I feel distant, draw me back to Your promises. Help me abide in You, so that I can truly thrive. Amen.