Today, I wanted to share a simple, comforting meal inspired by foods that would have been common in Jesus’ time — not bread, not lentils, but fish, olives, herbs, figs, and honey. Foods from the Sea of Galilee region. Foods of everyday life.

Have you ever had one of those moments where something inside you just… wakes up? Not because life suddenly became perfect. Not because all your problems packed their bags and moved out. But because, in the middle of ordinary days and unanswered prayers, you felt a quiet nudge that said:There’s more. And God is closer than you think. That, sweet friend, is often where spiritual awakening begins. Not with fireworks — but with a whisper.

The phrase “born again” can feel loaded. For some, it brings to mind awkward conversations, loud debates, or a version of faith that feels more like pressure than love. For others, it’s a phrase they’ve heard their whole life but never fully understood. And for many, it’s quietly stirring a question they’re almost afraid to ask: Is there really a way to start over? Jesus’ answer is yes. But maybe not in the way you’ve been told.

If becoming a Christian meant we instantly stopped messing up, never said the wrong thing, never lost our patience, and always responded with perfect grace…✨ church parking lots would be the most peaceful places on earth ✨(and yet… here we are). So when we read: “If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.”— 2 Corinthians 5:17

One of the most beautiful truths of our faith is this: our Father in Heaven is a healer. Not distant. Not stingy with grace. Not waiting for us to get everything right first. He is close, compassionate, and deeply invested in our wholeness—body, mind, and spirit. “I am the Lord who heals you.” — Exodus 15:26 And here’s the part that often surprises people: through Jesus, we’ve been invited into that healing work ourselves. Wait, what? We can heal? Read more on healing.

BUYING WITH CARE What we put on our skin matters. What we clean our homes with matters. Who we choose to buy from matters. And yes—even what a product is called matters to me. I’m a reader. I’m a label-turner. I’m the person who wants to know what’s in it, where it comes from, and what the company stands behind. Is it good for me? For my family? For the planet? Not because I’m perfect or extreme, but because my faith and my values don’t clock out when I’m shopping.

Humility is often misunderstood. Many think it means shrinking yourself, downplaying your gifts, or walking quietly so no one notices you. But biblical humility is not about becoming smaller — it’s about becoming rightly aligned. To be humble is to know who you are because you know whose you are.

Gratitude has a way of softening the heart. It slows us down long enough to notice what has always been there—God’s steady hand, His quiet provision, His goodness woven into both the beautiful moments and the hard ones. Today, I’m writing from my heart about gratitude—not the polished, picture-perfect kind, but the daily, practiced, sometimes tear-filled kind that whispers, “Thank You, Father,” even when I don’t fully understand.

If you’ve ever wished you had a little more clarity—a little more confidence in what God is saying, or a little more wisdom in the choices in front of you—you’re not alone. Every believer, no matter how long they’ve walked with God, has moments where they wonder: Is this God’s voice… or just my feelings?I s this decision wise… or am I being pulled by emotion? Is this situation okay… or is something off spiritually? This is where discernment comes in.

Yes! They appear in Scripture more than once. The most famous moment? Esau traded his birthright for a bowl of lentils. Genesis 25. Imagine being SO hungry you give away your family destiny for soup! (I get it… lentils are good, but Esau—buddy, choose a sandwich or something.)

Miracles. God has never stopped speaking, healing, or revealing His power. Throughout the centuries, there have been countless miracles—some quiet, some public, some recorded by eyewitnesses who had nothing to gain by lying.

Here’s the beautiful, complicated, hope-filled truth: **No—WE don’t heal ourselves. But yes—God may heal THROUGH us.** We are vessels, not the source. When Jesus said that faith the size of a mustard seed can move mountains (Matthew 17:20), He wasn’t giving us a superpower. He was giving us confidence in His power. When Jesus healed, He often said:“Your faith has made you well.”Not because faith healed them, but because faith connected them to the One who could.

Thanksgiving is a beautiful holiday because it brings out something tender and true in us. It’s the one of the two days a year where the world seems to collectively pause, take a breath, and say, “Okay, let’s remember what actually matters.”

Anxiety has a way of lying to us. It whispers, “You’re stuck. You’ll never be yourself again. You’ll always feel this way.” But the Word of God speaks a greater truth: “Fear not, for I am with you.” (Isaiah 41:10)

I watched Pope Leo speak today in front of an auditorium filled with 16,000 young people right here in America. Sixteen thousand. Just imagine that many hearts gathered together—not for a concert, not for a celebrity meet-and-greet—but to praise God, ask real questions, and grow in faith. It moved me more deeply than I expected. When the students began asking questions, one that stood out was about AI, because honestly… how could it not?

There’s a quiet question that whispers through every heart at one time or another — “How can I be sure I’ll go to Heaven?” It’s not a question born of fear, but of love. Love for God, love for others, and a longing to be near the One who made us. And the beautiful truth is this: God wants us to know His heart and to rest in His promise of eternity with Him. Have faith.

There’s something so sacred about food shared after a long day’s work — especially when it’s cooked with love and served with purpose. I often think about one of my favorite Bible moments found in John 21:1–14 — the story of Jesus appearing to His disciples after His resurrection. They had gone back to what they knew — fishing. The waves lapped against the boat, the sun rising slowly as their nets came up empty again and again. These were seasoned fishermen, weary in both

There are television shows that entertain—and then there are those that move you, change you, and touch something deep inside your soul. The Chosen is one of those rare treasures. It’s not just a show to watch; it’s an experience to feel. From the very first episode, it’s clear that this series was made with love, purpose, and divine inspiration.

When I picture Jesus sharing meals with His disciples, I think of the simple, wholesome foods of the land — fresh fish from the Sea of Galilee, figs picked from the tree, olives just pressed into oil… and always, always bread.

It made me wonder: what would Jesus do? That isn’t just a cliché or a slogan for bumper stickers. It’s a way of living. A daily question that should guide every choice we make.