When It Hurts Deep: Letting God Heal the Wounds They Don’t See

 

2025 thanks Beth Herrington Kruprzak for the beautiful sunrise photo

There are some kinds of pain that don’t leave bruises but sit heavy on the heart.

Maybe it was something they said. A careless word, a sharp tone. Maybe it was what they didn’t say—the silence where comfort should’ve been. Or maybe it was an action that felt like betrayal, and now you’re left wondering if they even realize how deeply they hurt you.

And the hardest part? Sometimes they don’t.
Sometimes the person who hurt us goes on like nothing happened.
No apology. No acknowledgement. Just... silence.

So what do we do when our hearts are aching and the people who hurt us don’t even see it?

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1. You Don’t Have to Pretend It Doesn’t Hurt

You don’t have to shove your feelings down or “just get over it.” God never asked that of you. In fact, He invites you to bring your full, aching heart to Him.

“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” — Psalm 34:18 (ESV)

He sees you. He knows the weight of the tears you cry behind closed doors. He never minimizes your pain. He steps into it with you.

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2. Let Yourself Feel, But Don’t Let the Pain Take Over

Yes, feel the sadness. Acknowledge the disappointment. Name the hurt.
But then—slowly—start to hand it over to the One who can actually carry it.

“Trust in him at all times, O people; pour out your heart before him; God is a refuge for us.” — Psalm 62:8 (ESV)

There’s such beauty in pouring your heart out to God with honesty.
You don’t have to have polished prayers. Just real ones.

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3. What If They Don’t See It? What If They Never Say “Sorry”?

Oh, friend... this part is so hard. But Jesus knows this place.
On the cross, He looked at the people who were actively hurting Him and said:

“Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” — Luke 23:34 (ESV)

Sometimes people genuinely don’t know the depth of their words or actions.
And sometimes... they just don’t care to.
But your healing doesn’t have to depend on their apology.
Your freedom starts when you release the need for it.

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4. Forgiveness Isn’t Saying It Was Okay. It’s Saying God Can Handle It Now.

Forgiveness is not the same as forgetting or pretending it didn’t hurt.
Forgiveness is choosing to let go of the bitterness and giving it to God instead.

“Let all bitterness and wrath and anger... be put away from you... forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.” — Ephesians 4:31–32 (ESV)

Forgiveness is less about what they deserve, and more about what you need.
You need peace. You need healing. You need to breathe again.

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5. You Can’t Give Them Real Estate in Your Mind

At some point in the healing process, you have to make a choice—not just to forgive, but to stop letting their words or actions live rent-free in your head.

You can’t give people who hurt you the power to sabotage your peace.
You can’t let them take up space in your thoughts, distract you from the good God is doing, or derail your focus on the future He has for you.

God wants to renew your mind, not leave it tangled in someone else’s mess.

“Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind...” — Romans 12:2 (ESV)

This doesn’t mean you’ll never remember what happened—but it does mean you stop giving that hurt the power to define you or your days. You get to move forward in freedom.

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6. You Are Deeply, Unshakably Loved

Let this sink in:
Your worth doesn’t come from how others treat you.
It comes from the God who knit you together, who calls you His daughter, who never leaves your side.

“Nothing will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” — Romans 8:39 (ESV)

He loves you on your strongest days and on your barely-holding-it-together days.

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7. Peace Is Possible—Even If the Pain Still Flickers

This peace doesn’t mean you won’t remember.
It just means you’re learning to breathe again, love again, hope again.
Not because of them—but because of Him.

“Do not be anxious about anything... but in everything by prayer... let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God... will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” — Philippians 4:6–7 (ESV)

You don’t have to carry the weight of this forever.
One step at a time, God is healing you.
One breath at a time, He is filling you with peace that makes no sense except for the fact that He’s in it.

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You’re not alone, sweet friend.

If today hurts, let yourself sit with God in the hurt.
And then—when you’re ready—let Him begin to heal it.
You were never meant to carry this alone.

What Was All the Celebration About?

 

Easter has passed. The lilies are fading, the last of the pastel eggs have been found, and life returns to “normal.” But I can’t help wondering—what was it all for? The songs, the sunrise services, the cross draped in white—what were we really celebrating?

When the excitement settles, we’re left with a deeper question: What difference does Easter make on an ordinary day?

It all centers on something we don’t talk about much outside church walls—a word that feels big and old: atonement.

What is atonement, really?

Let me try to explain it in the simplest way I can: atonement is the act of making things right when they’ve gone wrong. It’s what bridges the gap between hurt and healing, between justice and mercy. And it’s the heart of the Easter story.

The Bible says, “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23, ESV). Every one of us has messed up, turned from God, and walked our own way. It’s not just the obvious things like lying, stealing, or hurting others—it’s also the quiet pride, the selfish thoughts, the moments we ignore God.

Sin separates us from God, just like a child running into the street separates themselves from safety. And just like any parent would, God doesn't stand by passively. He moves in love—but also in justice.

“For the wages of sin is death…” (Romans 6:23, ESV). That’s not just physical death. It’s a spiritual death—a deep separation from the life and light we were made for.

But that’s not where the story ends.

 

The Heart of the Cross

God didn’t want us to stay separated. He loves us too much. So He made a way—a costly, breathtaking, undeserved way.

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

Jesus came and took our place. He lived the life we couldn’t live—without sin. And He died the death we deserved, taking our punishment on Himself. This is what atonement means. He made things right between us and God.

“He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness.” (1 Peter 2:24, ESV)

It might sound grim—blood, a cross, death. But it’s actually the most beautiful kind of love. The kind that says, “I’ll take the blame so you can be free.” And it didn’t stop at the grave—Jesus rose again, proving that sin and death don’t get the final word.

 

A Goat, a Fence, and a Shepherd’s Voice

Right now, I am thinking for a new addition to our family—a little goat. We’re doing our research, setting up the space, making sure she’ll be safe and healthy. It’s exciting, and a little nostalgic too.

We once had a goat named Samson. He was supposed to be a pygmy, but he grew tall and strong. Despite his size, he was gentle—especially with the kids. He never needed a fence to keep him in. Why? Because he knew us. He trusted us. He played tag in the yard and stayed close because of relationship—not restriction.

I could have put up electric fencing like I once did with steers, but with children around, I didn’t want to risk it. And honestly, I didn’t need to. Samson listened. He responded to our voice.

It struck me—this is exactly how God leads us.

Sure, God sets up boundaries—commands and teachings in Scripture. But they’re not there to punish us or box us in. They’re there to protect us, to keep us from the dangers of the “street,” the harm we don’t always see coming.

“Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.” (Psalm 119:105, ESV)

And more than rules, He invites us into relationship. Like a Shepherd with His sheep. Like a Father with His children. He wants us to trust His voice, to walk with Him, not because we’re forced—but because we’ve come to know His heart.

 

So, Why Did Jesus Have to Die?

It’s a question that lingers for many. Isn’t it all a bit… extreme?

But ask yourself—when someone wrongs you deeply, doesn’t something inside cry out for justice? We might say “It’s okay,” but if the wound is deep, we know something has to be made right.

That’s what God did for us through Jesus. He satisfied the need for justice, not by demanding a payment from us—but by paying it Himself.

That’s not morbid. That’s love. That’s mercy. That’s atonement.

“Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.” (John 15:13, ESV)

 

So now that Easter is over, maybe it’s actually just beginning. Maybe it’s time to carry the meaning of the cross into our everyday life—to live in the freedom, forgiveness, and relationship that Jesus died and rose to give us.

Have you trusted His voice? Or are you still wandering near the edge of the road, wondering what it would mean to come close?

Earth Day: Caring for God's Creation, Worshiping the Creator

 

When we pause to look around on a crisp spring morning — hearing the birds sing, feeling the sun warm our skin, watching new life bud and bloom — we are witnessing the handiwork of God. The earth is not the product of random chance or human effort, but the masterpiece of a loving Creator who designed it with purpose and intention.

The story of creation is beautifully told in Genesis 1.
"In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth." (Genesis 1:1, ESV)

From the very first words of Scripture, God establishes Himself as the Maker of all things. Day by day, He formed the light, sky, land, seas, plants, stars, animals, and finally — humanity.

On the sixth day, God created man and woman in His own image:
"So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them." (Genesis 1:27, ESV)

And with that creation came a special responsibility:
"And God blessed them. And God said to them, 'Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it, and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over every living thing that moves on the earth.'" (Genesis 1:28, ESV)

This wasn't a call to exploit the earth, but rather to steward it — to care for it, tend it, and protect it as a sacred gift from God. The earth was designed to sustain life and bring us joy, but it also stands as a constant reminder of the One who spoke it into existence.

In our modern world, especially on days like Earth Day, there’s a growing emphasis on loving the planet — and rightly so, we should be mindful stewards of God’s creation. But Scripture is clear: we are never meant to worship the creation itself. The beauty of the earth should stir our hearts to awe, not for the earth alone, but for its Creator.

Paul speaks to this truth in Romans 1:25 (ESV):
"Because they exchanged the truth about God for a lie and worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator, who is blessed forever! Amen."

The earth reflects the glory of God, but it is not God. It is a gift, not a deity. On Earth Day — and every day — let us honor the Creator by caring for His creation, living responsibly, and offering our worship to Him alone.

Psalm 19:1 (ESV) reminds us:
"The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork."

As we plant trees, recycle, conserve, and appreciate nature, let our hearts stay anchored in the truth: the earth points us to the power, creativity, and goodness of God. Our stewardship is an act of worship, and our praise belongs to Him, the One who made it all.

This Earth Day, let’s do more than admire the beauty around us — let’s commit to honoring God through the way we care for His creation. Whether it’s planting a tree, reducing waste, conserving water, or simply pausing to give thanks for the sunrise, every small act of stewardship reflects our gratitude to the Creator. Let nature’s beauty lead your heart to worship, and let your actions reflect the responsibility God entrusted to us in Genesis. Care for the earth — but worship the One who made it.

The Day After Easter

Skull Hill, Jerusalem, Israel 2022

The baskets are empty, the candy wrappers are scattered, and the last of the egg hunts are over. After a weekend filled with laughter, family gatherings, pastel decorations, and the playful charm of “Bunny Day,” many of us are left with full hearts from quality time — but if we pause long enough, another deeper question often rises: **What is Easter really all about?**

Beyond the traditions and sweet celebrations lies the greatest truth ever told — a truth that changes not just one weekend, but a whole life. That truth is the Gospel. But before the “Good News” can be fully understood, we have to take an honest look at the reality behind it: the problem of sin, the power of the cross, and the beauty of grace.

Sin isn’t just the mistakes we make; it’s the condition of our hearts. It’s the invisible wall that separates us from a holy God. Scripture makes it clear:

*"For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God."*  

— Romans 3:23 (ESV)

No one escapes this truth. Sin is universal, and the consequence is severe. Romans 6:23 tells us plainly:  

*"For the wages of sin is death..."*  

This isn’t just physical death, but spiritual death — eternal separation from the very One who created us for relationship. Without a remedy, this is the fate we all face. But God, in His rich mercy, refused to leave us hopeless.

At the heart of the Christian faith stands a cross, and on that cross hung Jesus Christ — fully God, fully man — the sinless Savior. His death was no accident. It was an act of divine love and perfect justice.

*"But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us."*  

— Romans 5:8 (ESV)

In that moment, Jesus bore the weight of our sin, paying a debt we could never afford. Paul writes in 2 Corinthians:

*"For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God."*  

— 2 Corinthians 5:21 (ESV)

When Jesus declared, *“It is finished”* (John 19:30), the power of sin and death was broken. The penalty was paid. The bridge back to God was built.

The Gospel isn’t just advice for better living; it’s an announcement of new life. The cross was not the end of the story — the resurrection proved the victory. Jesus didn’t remain in the grave; He conquered it.

This is why the Gospel is the best news you’ll ever hear:  

*"...but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord."*  

— Romans 6:23b (ESV)

Salvation is not earned. It’s not something you achieve through good behavior or religious performance. It’s a gift — offered freely to all who will receive it by faith.

*"For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast."*  

— Ephesians 2:8-9 (ESV)

God’s heart is not for condemnation, but for rescue:  

*"For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him."*  

— John 3:16-17 (ESV)

The reality of sin shows us our need. The work of the cross shows us God’s love. And the Gospel — the Good News — is the invitation to step into forgiveness, freedom, and a new identity as a child of God.

This isn’t just information — it’s transformation. It’s hope for the hopeless, life for the dead, and peace for the restless soul. The question isn’t whether the gift has been offered — the question is: **will you receive it?**

If you’ve never accepted Christ as Savior, today can be the day you stop striving and start living in His grace. Simply confess your need, believe in His finished work on the cross, and receive the gift of eternal life.

And if you’re already walking with Christ, let this truth renew your heart today: **The Gospel isn’t just the beginning of faith — it’s the foundation for every moment.** Share it, live it, and let it shape the way you love others.

The Stump That Wouldn’t Give Up: An Easter Reflection

 

Last year, we made the difficult decision to cut down the tree in our front yard. It wasn’t something we wanted to do, but the heart of the tree had died. The trunk was hollowing out from the inside, and we grew concerned that it might eventually topple in a storm — possibly onto the road, the driveway, or even the my uncle’s house. For the safety of our family and anyone passing by, we did what we felt we had to do.

I remember watching as the saw cut through that trunk. It felt so final. The tree that had once provided shade, beauty, and even a home for birds and squirrels was reduced to a stump. I thought the story of that tree was over.

But nature has a way of surprising us.

As time went on, when I glanced toward where the stump still sits, I noticed something unexpected. Not one, not two, but three strong shoots had sprouted from the base of what looked like a dead and finished tree. In just one winter, these shoots had shot up over six feet tall, standing straight and strong, as if to declare, “We are not done yet!”

And as I stood there looking at them, the symbolism struck me — especially this time of year, so close to Easter.

The number three is significant in so many ways, but in this moment it reminded me of the Trinity: God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit. Three distinct, yet one in essence, just like these shoots — separate in form, but rooted in the same source.

What I thought was dead was not dead at all. Beneath the surface, the roots had held on to life. When the visible part of the tree had been cut away, the unseen part had quietly been preparing for new growth.

Isn’t that the message of Easter?

When Jesus was crucified, the world thought it was finished. His friends and followers watched Him suffer and die on the cross, and then saw His body laid in a tomb. “Then Jesus, calling out with a loud voice, said, ‘Father, into your hands I commit my spirit!’ And having said this he breathed his last.” (Luke 23:46, ESV). Darkness and silence followed. From every human perspective, the story was over.

But God was not finished.

On the third day, the women came to the tomb and found the stone rolled away. An angel declared, “Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen.” (Luke 24:5-6, ESV). Jesus rose from the dead, conquering sin and death, and offering new life to all who would believe. As Paul wrote, “We know that Christ, being raised from the dead, will never die again; death no longer has dominion over him.” (Romans 6:9, ESV). What looked like an ending was actually the greatest beginning the world has ever known. And Jesus Himself assures us, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live.” (John 11:25, ESV).

This truth is echoed in nature, and even in the stump of a tree.

The Apostle Paul writes in Romans 8:11:

“If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead is living in you,
he who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies because of his Spirit who lives in you.”

And Jesus Himself said in John 12:24:

“Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed.
But if it dies, it produces many seeds.”

Sometimes in life we face seasons where it feels like everything has been cut down — hopes dashed, dreams lost, relationships broken, and futures uncertain. It’s easy to look at the “stumps” in our lives and think the story is over.

But Easter teaches us something else entirely. The story is never over when God is involved. Resurrection is at the heart of who He is. The same power that raised Christ from the grave is alive and working in the lives of His people.

And just like that tree in my front yard — rooted deeply, quietly persistent, and powerfully connected — our lives are held securely in God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Three in one, working together to breathe new life into what looks lifeless.

This Easter season, as you see signs of spring and new growth emerging from the earth, I invite you to reflect on the truth that hope is never really gone. God is always at work, even beneath the surface, and new life is His specialty.

Let the three shoots of that old tree stump remind you:
When the world says, “It’s over,” God says, “I’m just getting started.”

When Dreams Die and Hope Still Lives — A Good Friday Reflection

I never imagined this chapter of life would look like this.

When my husband and I turned 65, like many others, we held quiet dreams — simple, beautiful hopes for the days ahead. Time to travel, time to enjoy the slower pace, time to breathe. But now, instead of planning those dreams, I sit here navigating doctor's appointments, hospital stays, and the heavy words that were never part of the plan: congestive heart failure. The sudden reality that his heart — the strong heart that once held me through so much — is now weak and in need of technology to help it do what it once did without thought, still leaves me breathless.

The medical advancements are nothing short of remarkable — pacemakers and heart shock devices placed under the skin offer real hope for extended life. And yet, the disappointment lingers, tangled with the shock of this diagnosis and the uncertain road ahead. The looming changes in income, the loss of health insurance until I turn 65, and the need to adjust once again to a new "normal" feel daunting, even as I trust the God who has never once failed me.

I want to be clear: I do trust Him. I know God has a plan. I know God never leaves His children hopeless. But He also never promised this life would be easy. In fact, quite the opposite.

This isn’t my first encounter with heartbreak and loss. My first marriage ended with illness, injury, and the quiet death of so many dreams. I have walked the path of rearranged plans, downscaled homes, new careers, and unexpected heartache before. And each time — each time — God has met me there. We were never homeless. We were never without food. We were never without love. His provision came through friends, through family, through the kindness of strangers, and through His Word — a steady, unshakable foundation beneath my feet.

And today is Good Friday, a day that echoes this same tension between hope and heartbreak.

I keep thinking about those who stood at the foot of the cross — the ones who loved Jesus most, watching helplessly as the one they believed would change everything hung dying, suffering in agony. The Gospels describe the moment with heartbreaking simplicity:

“And Jesus cried out again with a loud voice and yielded up his spirit.”
Matthew 27:50 (ESV)

The sky darkened, the earth shook, and their world must have felt as if it had ended.

“And when the sixth hour had come, there was darkness over the whole land until the ninth hour.
And at the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, ‘Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?’ which means, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’”
Mark 15:33-34 (ESV)

The ache of those watching must have been overwhelming, their dreams crushed under the weight of the cross. And yet, the foundation of God’s faithfulness, the same foundation that carries me, was theirs too — even though they couldn’t yet see Sunday coming.

One verse I’ve been clinging to in these days is:

“For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us.”
Romans 8:18 (ESV)

And another that has long anchored me:

“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil,
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
they comfort me.”
Psalm 23:4 (ESV)

The same God who held me then is holding me now. The same God who raised Christ from the grave is the God who breathes life into broken dreams, even if that life looks different than we ever expected. Hope lives, even in the waiting. Especially in the waiting.

So as I sit here with both gratitude for modern medicine and the ache of uncertain days, I find comfort in knowing that my story, like the story of Good Friday, is not finished. Resurrection always follows the cross.

 

When Plans Change: Trusting God from Palm Sunday to Easter

 

Have you ever looked forward to something so much, only for it to fall apart or turn out nothing like you expected? Maybe it was your birthday, a day you pictured as perfect, filled with fun, laughter, and surprises — but instead, the day felt ordinary or even disappointing. The excitement and anticipation built up, only to leave you feeling a little empty when reality didn’t match your hopes. Moments like that can be hard, especially when your heart was set on something different.

In a way, the story of Palm Sunday and Easter feels a lot like that. When Jesus entered Jerusalem, the people were celebrating like it was the arrival of their hero. They waved palm branches, laid them down along the road, and shouted praises, believing their long-awaited King had come to rescue them from Roman oppression. The air was thick with hope and excitement, as they chanted, “Hosanna! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!” (John 12:13). But just a few days later, that celebration would turn to confusion, heartbreak, and even anger. Jesus wasn’t arrested to take a throne — He was arrested to be crucified on a cross.

Imagine the disappointment the crowd must have felt. They had their own plan for how this was all supposed to go. They expected Jesus to bring political freedom and victory over their enemies. But instead, He was led away like a criminal. What they didn’t realize was that God’s plan was so much bigger — not just a temporary rescue from hardship, but eternal salvation for the entire world. It wasn’t the ending they wanted, but it was the beginning of the greatest hope the world has ever known.

This reminds me so much of the times in our own lives when things don’t go the way we thought they would. We make plans, we pray, we hope — but sometimes the door stays shut, the path changes, or the answer doesn’t come the way we expected. In those moments, it’s easy to feel like God is silent or that He’s forgotten us. But the truth is, just like Palm Sunday wasn’t the end of the story, our disappointments aren’t the end either. God often works behind the scenes in ways we can’t see at the time, and His plans are always for our ultimate good.

The Bible reminds us of this so beautifully in Isaiah 55:8-9, where God says, “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways. As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.” Even when life doesn’t go the way we hoped, God is still writing a story of hope, redemption, and purpose. The cross looked like a tragic ending, but Easter morning revealed the truth: Jesus had risen, just as He said (Matthew 28:6). What looked like defeat was actually the greatest victory.

So the next time you face a birthday that feels disappointing, a plan that falls apart, or a season of life that doesn’t seem to make sense — remember the story of Palm Sunday. Remember how the crowds cheered for a king, only to watch their expectations crumble, but how God used it all to fulfill the greatest promise of all. Trust that, even when you don’t see the full picture, God is working for your good. Romans 8:28 encourages us, “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”

The truth is, God’s plan is always better than the one we had in mind. Sometimes the hardest part is waiting and trusting, but the hope of Easter reminds us that no matter what, we serve a God who turns even the darkest moments into the most beautiful victories.

Soaring with Purpose: Deepening Our Walk with God

 

Recently, I visited a quaint little diner tucked near the edge of a private airfield. As I sipped my coffee and watched small planes taking off and landing, a flood of memories came rushing back. Years ago, a dear friend gave me a precious gift—several flight lessons. It was a dream I never expected to live out, and I cherished every moment.

But sitting there, I realized just how much I had forgotten. The terminology, the procedures, the confidence—it had all faded because I hadn't kept up with my training. My flight knowledge had dulled from lack of use, and that realization stirred something in me. It mirrored a deeper truth I couldn’t ignore: how often have I allowed my spiritual disciplines, my relationship with God, and even my faith itself to fade in similar ways?

That afternoon, as I reflected, I saw a beautiful parallel between aviation and our walk with God. Just as a pilot must remain diligent in their training, we too must be intentional in nurturing our connection with the Lord. The following reflections were born from that moment of clarity—and I hope they encourage you to soar with purpose.

Before a plane takes off, the crew runs through a thorough pre-flight checklist. They inspect systems, assess weather conditions, review the flight plan, and ensure everything is in working order. This preparation ensures safety and readiness for the journey ahead.

In the same way, we need to spiritually prepare ourselves each day. Time in prayer, studying God's Word, reflecting on our hearts, and aligning our plans with His will equips us to face whatever lies ahead. It keeps us grounded and ready to soar with purpose.

"Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts." — Psalm 139:23

"Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path." — Psalm 119:105

Pilots don't just take off and hope for the best. Every flight follows a carefully charted plan that accounts for air traffic, terrain, and weather.

Our spiritual journey also needs direction. God is the ultimate flight planner. His Word and Spirit guide us, providing a path that leads to peace, purpose, and fulfillment. Trusting His plan—even when we can't see the whole picture—helps us stay the course.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” — Jeremiah 29:11

“In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight.” — Proverbs 3:6

A plane's safety relies on constant communication with air traffic control. Updates, warnings, and corrections are all vital to staying on track.

Likewise, our spiritual safety depends on continual connection with God. Prayer keeps us in sync with His voice, gives us clarity when things get confusing, and redirects us if we drift off course. He is our tower, always ready to guide.

“Pray continually.” — 1 Thessalonians 5:17

“Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know.” — Jeremiah 33:3

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.” — Philippians 4:6

No flight is immune to turbulence or unexpected weather. Pilots rely on their training and instruments to navigate safely.

We face spiritual turbulence too—loss, doubt, fear, anxiety, depression, and burnout. The storms of life can cloud our thinking and make us feel lost in the skies. But with God as our anchor and His Word as our guide, we can endure and even grow through these storms.

One of the most vital components of our spiritual journey is learning to guard our minds. Just as a plane's instruments are calibrated to function with accuracy, our minds must be regularly realigned to God's truth.

“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you.” — Isaiah 43:2

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.” — James 1:2–3

"You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you." — Isaiah 26:3

A plane only takes off when lift overcomes gravity. It requires movement, thrust, and confidence in the plane's design.

Spiritually, we take flight when faith overcomes fear and doubt. But faith doesn’t exist apart from our thought life. To rise above, we need to cultivate thoughts that reflect the mind of Christ. Pure, hope-filled, courageous thinking is like the engine of lift.

“Those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.” — Isaiah 40:31

“For we live by faith, not by sight.” — 2 Corinthians 5:7

“Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” — Romans 12:2

"Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure... think about such things." — Philippians 4:8

Landing a plane is just as important as taking off. It requires skill, focus, and obedience to procedure. Distractions or mental chaos in the cockpit can lead to disaster.

In our walk with God, finishing well requires obedience and mental focus. It means taking captive our thoughts, silencing lies, and believing God’s promises even when feelings waver. Our thought life is a battlefield—but in Christ, we have the power to land safely.

“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.” — 2 Timothy 4:7

“Being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” — Philippians 1:6

"We take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ." — 2 Corinthians 10:5

Just like flying a plane, walking with God requires preparation, communication, direction, and trust. But it also calls us to guard our minds, deal with anxiety honestly, and fight to keep our thoughts aligned with truth.

Turbulence will come. Thoughts will wander. But when we anchor our minds in the Word, speak life over ourselves, and pray continually, we begin to soar—not in our own strength, but in His.

So check your heart, tune into His voice, take care of your thought life, and get ready to fly. The skies may be vast, but with God as your guide, your destination is secure—and your journey filled with purpose.

Staying Rooted in Christ Through Every Season

 

Life is full of shifting seasons—some filled with sunshine and fruitfulness, others clouded by uncertainty and pruning. Recently, my own life has leaned into the latter. With unexpected health concerns in our family and a growing list of responsibilities, I’ve found myself running low on strength. Yet through it all, there’s been one unshakable truth holding me steady: I am connected to the Vine.

In John 15, Jesus gives us this powerful image:

“I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.” (John 15:5)

This metaphor speaks to the heart of what it means to abide in Christ. It’s not just a spiritual idea—it’s the very posture of our hearts, especially when life gets hard. As I’ve sat with this Scripture during a challenging season, I’ve come to see three deeply interconnected aspects of abiding in Jesus: connection, dependence, and continuance.

Abiding starts with a vital connection to Jesus. Just like a branch must be attached to the vine to live and grow, we must be joined to Christ. This is what the Bible calls “union with Christ”—a mutual, life-giving relationship where we dwell in Him, and He dwells in us (John 15:4). Without this connection, there is no spiritual life and no lasting fruit.

This isn’t a distant or abstract idea. It’s deeply personal. Jesus isn't merely someone we follow—He’s the very source of our life. When we trust in Him, we are grafted into His life, and we begin to bear the fruit of that relationship.

While connection is mutual, dependence is one-sided. A branch depends entirely on the vine for its nutrients, water, and support—but the vine doesn’t need the branch. In the same way, we are completely dependent on Jesus for everything that matters in our spiritual lives. He is our strength when we are weak. He is our peace in chaos. He is the grace that carries us through the day.

Jesus says plainly, “Apart from me, you can do nothing.” That’s not a gentle suggestion—it’s a bold reminder. No amount of effort, planning, or striving can substitute for what Jesus provides through His Spirit. His grace is our “sap”—the nourishment that flows from Him into every part of our lives.

And I’ve felt that dependence deeply in recent weeks. When fatigue set in and the future looked overwhelming, I found myself drawing strength from the Vine—often moment by moment. Sometimes all I could do was whisper a prayer or turn to a verse for comfort. But even in those small acts of trust, His strength was there, sustaining me.

To “abide” means more than to connect—it means to stay. The Greek word for “abide” (meno) also means to remain, dwell, or endure. It speaks of commitment. Not a fleeting connection, but a daily choice to stay rooted in Christ, even when things get tough.

Jesus doesn’t invite us into a temporary fix. He invites us into a lasting relationship. Abiding means choosing to remain in His love, to continue in His Word, and to trust Him through every storm and every joy. It means holding fast when our emotions falter, and persevering in faith when life feels uncertain.

This is what Jesus meant in John 8:31–32:

“If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”

Abiding is what transforms us. It’s what sets us free. And it’s something that grows deeper over time.

Jesus continues the vine metaphor by talking about pruning. In gardening, pruning isn’t punishment—it’s preparation. It removes what’s dead or unfruitful so the plant can thrive. It clears the way for stronger, healthier growth.

“Every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit.” (John 15:2)

I’ve felt the sharp edge of pruning lately. Life has stripped away comforts and forced me to slow down. But even in the hardship, I’ve sensed God’s hand lovingly at work—cutting back what isn’t essential, re-aligning my heart with His, and preparing me for something new.

Pruning, though painful, is an act of love.

Beyond pruning, grapevines also need support structures—like trellises—to grow upward and bear fruit. Without that structure, the vine would sprawl along the ground, vulnerable to pests, disease, and rot.

We, too, need support. God gives us the framework for healthy spiritual growth:

• His Word, to guide us
• Prayer, to stay connected
• Community, to encourage us
• Worship, to lift our hearts
• His presence, as our steady anchor

After pruning, gardeners nourish the vine with fertilizer and mulch. Likewise, after hardship, we need spiritual nourishment: time with God, rest, reflection, and encouragement. These things help our faith root deeply and grow again—stronger, more fruitful.

Here’s the truth I’m clinging to: abiding in Jesus isn’t about achieving something—it’s about remaining in someone. It’s not about climbing higher, doing more, or pushing harder. It’s about staying connected to the One who already did everything for us.

Abiding doesn’t require a spiritual breakthrough or dramatic moment. It’s lived out in small, faithful steps: keeping His words in our heart, leaning on His grace, resting in His love. It’s remembering that no matter what life throws at us, we are still in the Vine—and He is still with us.

Whether you’re in a season of growth, pruning, or simply holding on, I want to encourage you: Stay rooted. Stay connected. Stay with Jesus. He is your source. He is your strength. He is your stability.

“As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Abide in my love.” – John 15:9