Mercy's Quiet Places

Tag: joy

  • The Child Who Changes Everything

    “For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder. And his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.” Isaiah 9:6

    Every year, about the time the calendar turns to December, something begins to stir in my heart. I pull down the familiar Christmas bins, open the lids, and suddenly I am transported back to childhood. Twinkling lights spill out like captured stars. Garland appears in unruly bundles that somehow turn into beauty. Ornaments rest in layers of tissue paper like hidden treasure.

    Perhaps your home feels the same way. There is usually a special box of ornaments. Some were lovingly created by toddler hands. Some were bought during memorable family trips. A few have been around for so long that no one remembers where they came from. We only know they belong on the tree. Decorating becomes a family event filled with Christmas music that someone insists is not loud enough, laughter that echoes through the house, and the yearly battle with tangled lights. Eventually we step back and admire the tree as though it is a masterpiece.

    Yet amid all the joy and tradition, I have learned something important. It is possible to celebrate Christmas while missing Christ. We can hang stockings, bake cookies, build gingerbread houses, and place the nativity set in a prominent place, yet sometimes the message gets crowded out by the moment. We enjoy the season, but forget the Savior.

    THE PROMISE BEFORE THE MANGER

    Long before Mary wrapped Jesus in swaddling clothes, Isaiah told us exactly who He would be:

    “For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder. And his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.” Isaiah 9:6

    This was not poetic sentiment; it was divine revelation. The child born in Bethlehem would not grow into greatness. He already possessed it. Bethlehem did not begin His existence. It simply revealed His identity. He entered humanity without surrendering His deity. Tiny fingers belonged to the Creator of galaxies. His newborn cry was the same voice that thundered at creation. The infant in the manger was and is the King of kings and Lord of lords.

    Sometimes we decorate for Christmas and mentally leave Jesus in the manger, as though He remained a quiet, harmless baby. Scripture does not allow that. He is Wonderful, which means His nature is beyond our comprehension. He is our Counsellor, the One who guides our steps. He is The mighty God, not a lesser being or a created force. He is The everlasting Father, eternal and unchanging. He is The Prince of Peace, the only One who can calm the storms within our hearts.

    Christmas is not simply the celebration of a birth. It is the celebration of God becoming man. It is the miracle of incarnation. God came to us.

    THE REALITY THAT CHANGES EVERYTHING

    Several years ago, our family decided that the nativity scene needed a better location. It had always sat on an end table where someone inevitably bumped a shepherd or tipped over a camel. That year we cleared a shelf beneath the tree and positioned the entire scene in the very center of the room. We arranged the figures with care, stepped back, and looked at it together. In that moment, something occurred to me. We had placed everything else in the room around the tree, but now the nativity held the center. It changed the whole atmosphere.

    That is exactly what happens when we recognize who Jesus truly is. He does not fit into the margins of our lives. He belongs at the center. Once He is there, everything else finds its rightful place. Obedience becomes a joy, not a burden. Worship becomes a delight, not an obligation. Peace becomes a reality, not a wish. The world tries to present a sentimental Christmas filled with nostalgia and charm. God presents a supernatural Christmas filled with redemption and glory. He did not come because we were doing well. He came because we were lost. He did not come to inspire us. He came to save us. He did not come to be remembered. He came to be received.

    A CHRISTMAS INVITATION FOR YOUR HOME

    As your family prepares for Christmas this year, consider simple ways to point everyone’s hearts toward Christ.

    Place the nativity in a prominent place before the rest of the decorations go up. Say the name Wonderful as you hang the angel on the tree. Whisper Counsellor when decisions feel overwhelming. Speak the truth that He is The mighty God when life feels bigger than you. Rest in The everlasting Father when your heart feels uncertain. Welcome The Prince of Peace into every ordinary moment of family life.

    Let your decorations become reminders of truth. Let your traditions reflect your faith. Let your home shine with more than lights. Let it shine with the presence of Christ.

    Christmas is not just a season; Christmas is a Savior. His name is Jesus, and when we truly see Jesus for who He is, our response changes. Obedience becomes worship, and celebration becomes gratitude. Christmas becomes Christ centered.

    PRAYER

    Lord Jesus, help us not merely celebrate Christmas, but worship Christ. Remind us that You are more than a baby in a manger. You are Wonderful, our Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, and The Prince of Peace. May our homes, classrooms, and hearts reflect Your glory this season. Amen.

  • A Life of Thanksgiving

    A Life of Thanksgiving

    Psalm 34:6–9

    “This poor man cried, and the LORD heard him, and saved him out of all his troubles.
    The angel of the LORD encampeth round about them that fear him, and delivereth them.
    O taste and see that the LORD is good: blessed is the man that trusteth in him.
    O fear the LORD, ye his saints: for there is no want to them that fear him.”

    Popcorn, Beans, and Blessings

    I remember as a small child having popcorn for dinner. I did not know it was all we had. My four brothers and I thought it was great fun; a “special” night, sitting cross-legged on the floor, eating from bowls of popcorn and laughing together.

    Another night my mom made refried beans and sprinkled a little sugar on top. I thought it was the most wonderful meal I had ever tasted. Only years later did I realize those meals were not creative choices; they were survival.

    But even then, what stands out is not the lack; it is the laughter. It is the way my mom smiled through the worry, how she bowed her head and thanked God for what we had. She never let scarcity silence gratitude. Because of that, I learned early that thankfulness does not depend on what is on the table; it depends on Who sits with you at it.

    Those simple nights taught me a truth I have carried all my life: Gratitude grows best in humble places.

    The Pilgrims’ Thanksgiving: Gratitude Before the Feast

    When the Pilgrims arrived in the New World, their first act was not to explore or build; it was to kneel. Governor William Bradford recorded that they “fell upon their knees and blessed the God of heaven” for bringing them safely across “the vast and furious ocean.”

    Before there was a feast, there was faith. Before there was abundance, there was surrender. Their thanksgiving was not born of ease; it was born of trust.

    They gave thanks not because life was comfortable, but because they believed God was faithful.

    A Missionary’s Thanksgiving: The Journal of Allen Gardiner

    In the 1800s British missionary Allen Gardiner traveled to the desolate shores of South America to share the gospel. When his supply ship never returned, he and his companions slowly starved to death.

    When rescuers found them, Gardiner’s Bible lay open to Psalm 34, and his final journal entry read:

    “I am overwhelmed with a sense of the goodness of God.
    He has never left me, nor failed me.
    I am full of joy and peace in believing.
    Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good.”

    Even at the end of his life, Gardiner’s gratitude overflowed. His thanksgiving did not depend on deliverance; it rested on faith in the God who never leaves.

    Teaching Children to Be Thankful

    As teachers, parents, and mentors, we carry a sacred responsibility: to help children see God’s goodness in every season.

    Children do not learn gratitude from lectures; they learn it by watching thankful hearts. When they see us thank God for the small things, they begin to see the world differently. When they hear us pray, “Lord, thank You for what You have already provided,” they begin to understand that thankfulness is not a reaction; it is a choice.

    We can help cultivate gratitude by giving them small, meaningful rhythms:

    • A “Gratitude Journal” to record one blessing each day;
    • Classroom “Thankful Thursdays” to share good things from the week;
    • Family bedtime prayers that begin, “Lord, thank You for…”

    When we are honest about hard times yet still thankful, we teach the deepest lesson of all: that joy does not require everything to be right, it simply requires us to trust that God is.

    Children who grow up seeing faith in the hard times carry that light into their own storms someday. Perhaps, when they are grown, they will look back on moments of simplicity, maybe even popcorn for dinner, and remember that God was good there too.

    The Everyday Kind of Thanksgiving

    Thanksgiving is not reserved for abundance. It is woven through small mercies: in the way God sustains us, provides for us, and fills our hearts with peace when the cupboards are thin and the future feels uncertain.

    True gratitude does not wait for everything to be perfect. It begins when we can look around, even in scarcity, and say, “Lord, You have still been good.”

    That kind of thanksgiving does not fade with the season; it becomes a way of living.

    Prayer

    Lord, thank You that You hear us when we cry and surround us with Your presence.
    Teach us to give thanks in every circumstance, not just for what we have but for who You are.
    Help us live gratitude before our children and students, so they will grow to see that Your goodness never depends on circumstances.
    May our hearts, our homes, and our classrooms be places of praise.
    In Jesus’ name, Amen.

  • The Only Applause That Matters

    The Only Applause That Matters

    By Mrs. Janeal Lischke | Mercy’s Quiet Places

    “And whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord, and not unto men.” Colossians 3:23

    “For do I now persuade men, or God? or do I seek to please men? for if I yet pleased men, I should not be the servant of Christ.” Galatians 1:10

    A Moment in the Spotlight

    A world-renowned violinist once performed before a packed concert hall. The audience listened in awe as his bow danced across the strings, filling the room with a symphony of beauty. When the final note lingered and faded into silence, the crowd erupted in applause. People stood to their feet, cheering and clapping, shouting “Bravo!” for the masterful performance.

    But instead of smiling, the violinist bowed his head and wept.

    Backstage, someone asked him, “Why are you crying? Everyone in the room is standing!”

    The violinist looked up and quietly pointed to one man still seated in the front row. “That man is my teacher,” he said softly. “If he does not stand, it means I have not yet played well.”

    The Heart Behind the Applause

    That story lingers in my mind because it’s such a vivid picture of how easily we measure success by the reaction of others. The teacher in me knows this well. I’ve had days when parents send sweet notes, students laugh and learn, and everything feels right. And then there are the days when the copier jams, someone forgets their lunch, the math test goes sideways, and I wonder if anything I said made sense at all.

    But beyond the classroom, I’ve learned this lesson in family life too.

    There are seasons when the applause feels far away. When the children argue, when dinner burns, when exhaustion creeps in, and when your best intentions seem to fall flat. There are moments when we pour ourselves into our families: planning, guiding, loving and still wonder if we’re doing enough.

    It’s tempting to measure our worth by what others think: a parent’s opinion, a friend’s praise, or even our children’s temporary gratitude. Our Heavenly Father sees far beyond all that. His eyes are on the heart behind the effort: the patience we show when no one’s watching, the forgiveness we extend, the late-night prayers whispered in the quiet.

    Not every audience matters!

    We serve for the smile of our Savior, the Master Teacher, the perfect Father. His approval is the only one that will ever fill the deep places of our hearts.

    Faithfulness Over Flash

    We live in a world that celebrates visibility and likes, applause, awards, and recognition, but God values something deeper: faithfulness.

    When the lesson doesn’t go as planned, remember that God values your faithfulness far more than your flair.
    When your family day unravels and tempers flare, remember that grace still counts as success.
    When no one notices your effort, know that your quiet obedience is applause in heaven.
    When your patience wears thin, remember that you are shaping eternal souls, not just surviving another day.

    Our success isn’t measured by how many people notice what we do. It’s measured by the smile of our Savior, who sees it all both in the classroom and around the kitchen table.

    For Every Season of Life

    Whether you’re a teacher, a parent, or someone quietly trying to do the next right thing, we all have days when we wonder if we’re making a difference. But God never called us to impress; He called us to be faithful.

    The truth is, the applause of people fades quickly, but the peace of knowing we’ve served God well; that endures.

    At the end of the day, when the noise quiets and the to-do list remains half-done, look up. If the Master Teacher nods in approval, that’s the only applause that matters.

    Reflection Question

    Whose approval am I seeking most: the world’s, my family’s, or my Savior’s?

    Prayer

    Lord, teach me to live and serve for Your approval alone. When I am weary or overlooked, remind me that You see every moment at home, at work, and in my heart. Let my words, lessons, and love reflect You in every space I step into today. May my patience with my family, my kindness to my students, and my service to others be a song played for You. When the day is done, may Your smile be my reward.
    In Jesus’ name, Amen

  • The Day Everything Spilled but God’s Faithfulness

    The Day Everything Spilled but God’s Faithfulness

    I can laugh about it now—but at the time, I was sure the day was proof that sanctification was a slow and painful process.

    It was Colonial Day at school—a day my three daughters had been preparing for with the kind of excitement only children possess. But that morning, everything unraveled. The hot glue gun broke, the bonnets were nowhere to be found, and one daughter’s oral report note cards mysteriously disappeared overnight (I later found them behind the couch).

    Meanwhile, the clock was ticking. One child was crying because her cap looked “too poofy,” another because her display board had juice on it when her sister spilled her drink all over the kitchen table, and one child was dramatically declaring that she was moving to a different century altogether. Somewhere between ironing aprons and locating missing bonnets, I spilled coffee on my colonial day skirt and muttered a prayer that was less “holy” and more “Lord, help me before I lose what’s left of my sanity.”

    At the time, it was chaos. But years later, I can smile at the memory. Because what felt like disaster was really just life: messy, unpredictable, and full of moments that teach us humility, humor, and dependence on God. He was there that morning, too, in the laughter that followed the tears and in the reminder that His grace holds even when glue guns, and mothers, fall apart.

    “A merry heart doeth good like a medicine: but a broken spirit drieth the bones.” Proverbs 17:22

    “Even the hardest days can later become holy humor because hindsight reveals what faith was too weary to see in the moment: God was right there in the middle of the mayhem.”

    When the Storm Becomes the Teacher

    Life has a way of unravelling our best-laid plans. Dreams crumble, doors close, and hope sometimes feels delayed. But even there, in the bitter waters of despair, the hand of God is waiting.

    Until we have stood on the cliff of hopelessness, stared into the emptiness of our own ability, and realized how small we truly are, we cannot comprehend the greatness of His love. It is in the tempest that trust takes root. It is in defeat that devotion deepens.

    “For thou, O God, hast proved us: thou hast tried us, as silver is tried.” Psalm 66:10

    Trouble is not the enemy; it is the tutor. Suffering is not the punishment; it is the process. Every ache becomes an alphabet through which God spells faith.

    We often pray for calm seas, yet it is the waves that teach us how to cling to Him. We long for ease, but ease never builds endurance. Only pressure forms diamonds; only fire refines gold.

    When Doubt Knocks Loudest

    It is easy to trust God when the path is paved with blessings, but when prayers echo unanswered, and our hearts grow weary, faith begins to falter. We question His nearness. We wonder if heaven has gone silent.

    “Yea, and all that will live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution.” 2 Timothy 3:12

    The saints before us knew this truth. Job sat among the ashes and still whispered, “Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him.” Peter wept bitter tears and found forgiveness on a Galilean shore. Paul wrote of joy while chained in a Roman cell.

    Their stories remind us: faith is not proven by prosperity, but by perseverance. To believe when God is silent is to love Him most sincerely.

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

    When the Valley Becomes Holy Ground

    There comes a point when the heart can break no further, and it is there that the Lord bends low to meet us. When the last candle flickers out, His light still burns. When the final thread snaps, His hand still holds.

    Our trials are not evidence of His absence but invitations to intimacy. Each sorrow is a doorway through which we learn the language of grace.

    “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”Psalm 23:4

    God never promised an easy journey, but He promised His presence on the path. When we finally reach the end of ourselves, we find, miraculously, that He was there all along, waiting to lift us from the dust and set our feet upon the Rock.

    “He brought me up also out of an horrible pit, out of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock, and established my goings.”Psalm 40:2

    A Prayer from the Valley

    Dear Lord,
    Thank You for meeting us in both the laughter and the lament. When life feels out of control, remind us that You are not. Teach us to find joy in the small absurdities of our chaos knowing that Your grace holds steady even when we don’t.

    When doubt creeps in, strengthen our faith. When tears fall, remind us they are seeds You can use to grow something beautiful. May every storm lead us closer to Your heart, and may our joy return brighter because we have known Your faithfulness in the dark. May we honor You even in the chaos of life.

    In Jesus’ precious name, Amen.

  • Divine Disruptions

    Divine Disruptions

    Finding Grace in Life’s Unplanned Moments

    Sometimes, God pauses our plans to shape our hearts.

    Some years ago, I stood in my kitchen, reviewing my carefully arranged schedule for the week. Everything was aligned: every meeting, every prayer time, every writing block. Then my phone rang: a dear friend from church had been hospitalized unexpectedly. She needed someone to sit with her, to pray, to simply be present.

    My heart protested: “But this will mess up everything!” Yet God whispered, “Go.”

    So I did. In that hospital room, what looked like an interruption became sacred. We wept, we prayed, we clung to God’s presence together. When I left, I felt less like I had abandoned my plans and more like I had stepped into God’s purpose. That night, I sensed: some of God’s greatest invitations come through the cracks of our “perfect plans.”

    Interruptions often become God’s way of inviting us to surrender our schedule to His sovereignty. The word interrupt suggests interference or disruption. Yet, I believe God allows interruptions not to frustrate us, but to invite us — into His pace, His purpose, and His presence.

    The Little Voice and the New Word

    Not long ago, I overheard a little girl apologize to her teacher: “I’m sorry for the innerruption.” Her mispronunciation made me smile, but the more I thought about it, the more I felt it was profoundly on point.

    What if God doesn’t merely interrupt our plans, what if He innerupts our hearts? What if He deposits something inside us through the disruption that we could only receive when we pause and yield?

    Though innerruption isn’t in any dictionary, perhaps God is coining the term. Inner means “within,” and inter means “to deposit.” What if every interruption is God planting a seed in our soul — something He longs for us to notice, nurture, and let grow?

    Scriptural Anchors for Interruption

    Ephesians 5:15–17 “See then that ye walk circumspectly, not as fools, but as wise, Redeeming the time, because the days are evil. Wherefore be ye not unwise, but understanding what the will of the Lord is.”

    Psalm 46:10 “Be still, and know that I am God: I will be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted in the earth.”

    Matthew 5:8 “Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God.”

    Jesus’ ministry was often “interrupted,” yet He welcomed people as divine appointments. Each interruption can carry a kingdom opportunity : a moment to align our steps with God’s will rather than our own.

    A World in Transition: Seeing with Eternity in View

    When a culture is jolted by loss or unexpected change, we are reminded of how brief life is and how steady God remains. In those moments, the Lord reorients our hearts toward what endures. As Jesus taught:

    John 12:24 “Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit.”

    What seems like a tragic ending can become, in God’s hands, seed for new faith, new courage, and new obedience.

    Technology and the Modern Disruption

    One of the greatest interruptions to the hearts of this generation is technology. For many young girls and teens, social media has become a battlefield for identity. Images, pressures, and the lure of attention can lead toward shame, self-harm, and spiritual disconnection. But God is calling this generation back. He is still saying, “Be still, and know Me.” His interruption to the noise of technology is an innerruption of the heart. It’s an invitation to rediscover purpose, beauty, and belonging in Him alone.

    Philippians 4:8 “Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.”

    The Call to Respond

    When we recognize that interruptions may carry divine deposits, our posture changes. We stop fighting every disruption and start asking: “Lord, what are You saying to me in this moment?” “Where will You have me to pause and listen?” “How might You be reshaping me through what feels like chaos?”

    Interruptions are rarely convenient, but they are often consecrated. God never wastes them.

    What is the reason for your innerruption, and what will you do with it?

    Gratitude for Interruptions

    Lord, thank You for every interruption even the ones I resist. When my plans unravel, remind me that You are weaving something better. Teach me to see divine invitations where I once saw inconvenience. Help me pause, listen, and yield when You redirect my path. Interrupt my hurry with Your peace. Interrupt my pride with Your presence. Interrupt my distractions with Your voice.

    Thank You for loving me enough to rearrange my days for Your glory. May every interruption become an innerruption, a moment when You deposit truth, patience, and faith deep within me.
    In Jesus’ name, Amen.

  • When Screens Become Substitutes: Guarding Our Hearts in a Digital Age

    When Screens Become Substitutes: Guarding Our Hearts in a Digital Age

    As a principal, teacher, and mother, I see every day how screens compete for our hearts. Technology has become a constant companion for children and adults alike. It often shapes our thoughts, habits, and priorities more than we realize. I’ve watched students lose joy because of comparison, families grow distant while sitting in the same room, and adults quietly slip into the same patterns of distraction they warn their children about. My heart has been burdened by one simple truth: we need more oversight and more guardrails for our digital lives.

    A Moment That Made Me Stop

    I remember one evening when my daughter was in high school. I was grading papers at the kitchen table while she sat across from me, laughing quietly at something on her phone. We were only a few feet apart—but miles away in spirit. I caught myself glancing at my own phone every few minutes, checking emails or scrolling through photos, telling myself it was “just for a moment.” Later that night, I realized how many little conversations we had missed. That moment convicted me. I had been warning students about their screen time while modeling the very same distraction at home. God gently reminded me through Psalm 90:12, “So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.” Time is sacred, and technology should never steal it.

    Everywhere we turn, there’s a glowing screen: beckoning, buzzing, updating, refreshing. Our children scroll before they can read. Adults swipe before they pray. Technology has given us incredible tools to learn, connect, and create, but it’s also quietly reshaping what (and Who) holds our attention.

    A Subtle Shift of Worship

    The Bible doesn’t mention “phones” or “apps,” but it does speak clearly about idols. Ezekiel 14:3 warns, “These men have set up their idols in their hearts.” An idol doesn’t have to be a golden calf—it’s anything that captures our devotion more than God.

    When our first instinct each morning is to reach for our phone instead of reaching for His Word, we must ask ourselves: has convenience become our comfort, and technology our teacher?

    Romans 12:2 reminds us, “Be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind.” Technology can either shape us to look more like Christ or more like the culture that constantly craves attention, validation, and distraction.

    Oversight Starts at Home

    As Christian parents, we’re called to guard the hearts of our children, not by sheltering them from every influence, but by teaching discernment and self-control. Proverbs 4:23 says, “Keep thy heart with all diligence; for out of it are the issues of life.”

    Oversight doesn’t just mean setting time limits; it means setting examples. Do our children see us turn off the TV to read God’s Word? Do they see us put our phones down when someone walks in the room? Do they see us listening more to God than to our notifications? Technology should serve our family’s mission, not distract us from it.

    What the Numbers Are Telling Us

    If we ever doubted how much technology has taken root in our daily lives, the numbers say it all.
    Recent studies reveal that the average American now spends more than seven hours a day looking at screens: phones, computers, televisions, and tablets combined (DemandSage, 2025). That’s almost a third of every 24-hour day! Globally, the average is only slightly lower, at around six hours and forty minutes per day.

    For children, the pattern begins early. A meta-analysis published in Global Health Research and Policy found that children ages 6–14 average about 2.77 hours per day of screen use (GHRP, 2023).
    The American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry reports that children ages 8–12 spend four to six hours a day, while teens often exceed seven hours daily (AACAP, 2024).

    The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) also notes that over half of U.S. teens (50.4%) spend at least four hours a day on recreational screen time (CDC, 2023). Researchers warn that time spent beyond that threshold is linked to increased risks of anxiety, depression, attention problems, and poor sleep (arXiv, 2025).

    The data confirms what many of us already sense in our hearts: we are slowly trading the quiet rhythms of home life and spiritual reflection for constant stimulation. If children spend more waking hours online than engaging with their families or with the Lord, how will they learn to hear His still, small voice?

    For many girls and teens, social media and the exposure to inappropriate images, online pressure, and toxic comparison serve as a constant assault on purity, identity, and dignity. Studies show that increased screen time and engagement with harmful content correlate with higher rates of depression, self-harm ideology, and suicide risk among youth, especially among girls. (The Gospel Coalition+3PMC+3PLOS+3 )

    As young people focus on images found in social media, the enemy whispers lies: You’re not enough. You need to prove your value. You must belong by any means. Against that backdrop, Scripture’s call to live as a “living sacrifice” (Romans 12:1) and to stand firm in the work of the Lord (1 Corinthians 15:58) becomes even more urgent. When technology becomes a destructive force in the life of the heart, God’s invitation is to resist, root deeply, and allow Him to restore the soul’s purity and purpose.

    These numbers shouldn’t just alarm us—they should awaken us. They remind us that oversight is not about control, but about care. We must guide our families to use technology purposefully, remembering that every minute we reclaim from the screen is a minute we can give back to God, to others, and to rest.

    The Proper Attitude for Social Media

    Social media can be a tool for ministry—or a trap for comparison. It connects us to others but can disconnect us from gratitude. Scripture cautions us in Galatians 1:10, “For do I now persuade men, or God? or do I seek to please men? for if I yet pleased men, I should not be the servant of Christ.”

    When we post, comment, or scroll, we should ask: Am I seeking to glorify God or glorify myself? Am I building up others or feeding my envy? Am I spending more time online than on my knees?

    We must remind ourselves and our children that our worth is not measured by followers, likes, or views—it is secured by the love of Christ.

    Choosing Stillness Over Stimulation

    Psalm 46:10 says, “Be still, and know that I am God.” Yet stillness has become one of the hardest disciplines in our digital world. Oversight for both children and adults begins with reclaiming that sacred stillness, moments where we set aside our screens to meet with our Savior.

    Imagine what might happen if families had tech-free dinners or screen-free “Sabbaths.” What if our children saw that joy doesn’t come from Wi-Fi connections, but from heart connections first with God, then with one another?

    A Prayer for Our Digital Lives

    Lord, help us to use technology wisely. Teach us to set boundaries that guard our hearts and minds. Let our screens never replace Your Word or our need for quiet communion with You. May every click, post, and message reflect Your goodness and truth. In a world of constant noise, help us to listen for Your still, small voice. Amen.

  • A Work Still in Progress

    A Work Still in Progress

    Philippians 1:6–10

    Being confident of this very thing, that he which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ:
    Even as it is meet for me to think this of you all, because I have you in my heart; inasmuch as both in my bonds, and in the defence and confirmation of the gospel, ye all are partakers of my grace. For God is my record, how greatly I long after you all in the bowels of Jesus Christ. And this I pray, that your love may abound yet more and more in knowledge and in all judgment; That ye may approve things that are excellent; that ye may be sincere and without offence till the day of Christ.

    When Progress Feels Slow

    Some days, spiritual growth feels painfully slow. We try our best to walk faithfully, yet we stumble over the same weaknesses, wrestle with the same doubts, or fall short in the same old areas. Maybe you’ve whispered in prayer, “Lord, am I ever going to get this right?”

    Paul’s words to the Philippians remind us that we are not unfinished because we’ve failed—we are unfinished because God is still working. He hasn’t given up. He hasn’t walked away from the project He began in you. The Artist never abandons His masterpiece.

    When Paul says, “He which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ,” he’s reminding us that our growth is God’s ongoing promise. I am a work in progress and a living testimony of His patience, grace, and faithfulness.

    A Story from the Classroom

    As a teacher for 39 years, students have always been a big part of my prayer life. I think often of one of my students, a quiet girl named Emily. She was bright and thoughtful, but easily discouraged. When assignments felt too difficult, she’d sigh and say softly, “I’ll never get this right.”

    I’d remind her gently, “You don’t have to be perfect today; you just have to keep growing. Look how far you have already come! Growth is a process.”

    Over time, I began to notice small changes. Her handwriting grew steadier. Her answers became more complete. She began to lift her head when reading aloud and even encouraged classmates who were struggling. One afternoon, she turned in a paper and said with a shy smile, “I didn’t think I could do it, but I kept trying.”

    That moment stayed with me. Emily didn’t become confident overnight. She grew a little each day because she kept showing up.

    And isn’t that what the Lord calls us to do? Keep showing up. Keep trusting. Keep letting Him work. God is patient with our progress—just as we are patient with our students and children. What matters most isn’t perfection, but persistence. Every small step of obedience, every humble moment of faith, becomes part of His masterpiece in the making.

    The Sculptor’s Hands

    A sculptor was once asked how he created a beautiful lion from a solid block of marble. He smiled and said, “I just chip away everything that doesn’t look like a lion.”

    That’s what God is doing in each of us. Day by day, through joys and hardships, He is gently removing everything that doesn’t look like Christ. Sometimes the chiseling hurts. Sometimes we can’t see the shape of what He’s forming. But the Master Sculptor knows exactly what He’s doing. The blows of His chisel are never random, but they are guided by His love. He truly does LOVE His children.

    Our part is not to resist the shaping, but to trust His steady hand. We can rest knowing that even the hard moments are part of His artistry.

    A Heart That Grows in Love

    “And this I pray, that your love may abound yet more and more in knowledge and in all judgment; That ye may approve things that are excellent.”

    Paul wasn’t praying that their love would simply feel deeper but that it would grow wiser. True spiritual maturity blends compassion with discernment. As we walk with Christ, our love becomes both tender and thoughtful. We learn when to speak and when to listen, when to comfort and when to correct, when to let go and when to hold fast.

    This kind of love requires the Holy Spirit’s daily guidance. It’s the fruit of a heart that’s being transformed—not suddenly, but slowly and beautifully, one obedient moment at a time. The Holy Spirit is there to guide us each day. Talk to Him!

    Growing up an abused child, I have many issues with not thinking I am worth it. I struggle thinking that no one could truly love me. I struggle with feeling like I am a disappointment to God and everyone around me. Yet, God does love me, in fact, He IS LOVE! He loves you and me! He wants to perfect us and use us for His glory!

    Still Becoming

    If you feel today like you’re not where you want to be—remember, neither were the Philippians. Yet Paul (who was in prison himself) wrote to them with joy and confidence because he knew the truth: God finishes what He starts.

    You may not see the full picture yet. You may only see the rough edges. But He sees the finished masterpiece—one that reflects the image of His Son.

    So breathe, friend. Be patient with yourself. The work isn’t done, but it’s being done by the most faithful hands.

    Quiet Reflection

    • What part of my life feels “unfinished” right now?
    • How might God be using this season to shape me into something more like Christ?
    • How can my love “abound more and more in knowledge and judgment” this week?

    Prayer

    Heavenly Father,
    Thank you for the reminder that You are still working in me.
    When I grow weary or discouraged, remind me that I am safely in Your hands. Help me to have love that abounds in wisdom and discernment. Shape me into the likeness of Christ—pure, sincere, and ready for the day of His return. Thank you for your deep love and care for me. Help me to trust you today to refine me and glorify YOU today.
    In Jesus’ name, Amen.

  • Finding Joy in Everyday Moments

    Finding Joy in Everyday Moments

    “This is the day that the Lord has made; we will

    rejoice and be glad in it.” — Psalm 118:24

    Some days don’t come wrapped in ribbons of excitement or grand achievement. Most of our days—especially as moms—come in the small, ordinary moments: folding laundry, packing lunches, helping with homework, or cleaning crumbs off the floor for what feels like the hundredth time.

    But it’s in these quiet, often unnoticed moments that God hides His sweetest joys.

    When Joy Looks Like a Messy Kitchen

    I remember a day when my kitchen looked like a tornado had spun through it. Pancake batter splattered on the counter, a trail of syrup footprints leading to the fridge, and laughter echoing from my little ones as they proudly declared themselves “chefs.”
    My first instinct was frustration—but in that messy, sticky chaos, the Lord whispered:

    “Be still, and know that I am God.” — Psalm 46:10
    I realized those syrup footprints were evidence of life, love, and laughter in my home. Joy wasn’t waiting for me at the end of a perfect day, but it was right there in the imperfect one.

    When Joy Looks Like Waiting

    Sometimes, joy isn’t loud or instant. It’s quiet. It’s what blooms in the waiting.
    Like the time I prayed for weeks that my teenage daughter would open up to me again. One night, as I sat folding laundry, she came in, plopped down on the bed, and began to talk. We laughed, we cried, and I silently thanked God.

    “Those who sow in tears shall reap in joy.” — Psalm 126:5
    That night was a small miracle. God had been working in the quiet, in the in-between.

    When Joy Looks Like Ordinary Faithfulness

    There’s joy in faithfulness! That is just showing up again and again, even when no one notices. God sees every small act of love:

    • The mom who stays up late praying for her child.
    • The woman who serves her family without complaint.
    • The one who holds on to hope when her heart feels weary.

    “And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.” — Galatians 6:9

    Joy isn’t just a feeling as it’s a fruit of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22). It grows quietly when we abide in Him, even on days that feel monotonous or heavy.

    Choosing Joy Daily

    Joy doesn’t always come naturally; it’s a choice. Every morning, we can choose gratitude over grumbling, peace over panic, and praise over perfection.

    “Rejoice in the Lord always: and again I say, Rejoice.”

    Philippians 4:4


    “In everything give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.” 1 Thessalonians 5:18

    I’ve learned that joy often looks like:

    • A quiet cup of coffee before the house wakes up.
    • The sound of a child’s laughter drifting from another room.
    • A simple prayer answered in a small, unexpected way.
    • A moment of stillness where you sense His presence and think, He’s here.

    The Small Moments Are the Holy Moments

    When we learn to see God’s hand in the little things, the ordinary becomes sacred.

    “Whatever you do, do all to the glory of God.”

    1 Corinthians 10:31

    Maybe joy isn’t found in doing more, but in noticing more—seeing the beauty that’s already woven into our everyday lives.


    Lord, help us slow down enough to see You in the small moments. Remind us that joy is not something we must chase but something You freely give when we rest in You. May our hearts find delight in the quiet, the ordinary, and the overlooked. Amen.