Have you ever watched the trees on a breezy day? Leaves dancing. Branches bowing. Hair blowing across your face like it has somewhere important to be. You don’t see the wind. But you sure see what it does. No one stands outside and says,“Well, I can’t see it, so I refuse to believe in it.” That would be… windy nonsense. (Yes, that is now a theological term.)

Have you ever sat down to pray and thought…I want to talk to God, but I don’t even know where to start. Your mind feels crowded. Your heart feels tired. And the words just won’t come. If that’s you, let me gently tell you something very important: You are not bad at prayer. You are human. And God understands that. Prayer is not a performance. It’s a relationship. And sometimes, relationships grow the most in the quiet moments when words are hard.

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.

Have you ever felt like your faith was… tiny? Not absent. Not gone. Just small. Quiet. A little shaky around the edges. The kind of faith that says, “Lord, I believe… but I’m also kind of scared.” If so, you’re in very good company. Because when Jesus talked about faith, He didn’t point to something massive and impressive. He pointed to something small.

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

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.

Have you ever caught yourself thinking something about you that you would never, ever say to another human being? “You’re not good enough.” “You can’t do this.” “Everyone else is better.” I have. Many times. And if I’m honest, there have been seasons where what others said became louder than what God said about me. Just like Julia Roberts said in Pretty Woman: “The bad stuff is easier to believe.” But friend—that was never the truth. Words matter.

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.

Prayer.It’s the daily friendship God desires to have with you—the kind where you can show up in your slippers with messy hair, coffee breath, half-awake, offering up a simple, “Good morning, Lord,” and He beams like you just gave Him the greatest gift.

If Satan rebelled, why didn’t God just get rid of him? Why allow him to linger? It’s a fair question—and a deeply human one. We feel the weight of spiritual battle. We see the brokenness. We long for peace. So why does God allow the enemy any space at all? The Bible gives us beautiful clues that point to God’s love, His justice, His eternal plan, and His perfect timing. As we walk through Advent—the season of longing, waiting, and hopeful expectation—this truth becomes even m

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 something so humbling about realizing that the Creator of all things — God Himself — desires a relationship with us. We don’t have to strive or perform to earn His love; it’s already ours through Christ. But when we truly love God, our hearts long to please Him — to live in a way that brings joy to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Each Person of the Trinity — Father, Son, and Spirit — reveals a different layer of God’s love and invites us to walk closer with Him.

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

Yesterday, I caught myself doing that thing again—staring at my phone, scrolling through nothing. I had opened it to answer a message, and before I knew it, forty-two minutes had vanished in the TikTok–Instagram–Email vortex of distraction. The pasta water was boiling over on the stove. My dog sat patiently by her bowl staring at me. A text from a friend sat unread. And I had that familiar sinking feeling again—that little ache behind the ribs—the feeling of time slipping awa

Ever wake up and just feel like the world has its hands on its hips, staring you down and saying, “Really? You again?” Yeah. That was me today. I don’t even know why. Nothing catastrophic happened. I didn’t trip and fall in public or accidentally like someone’s photo from 2009 while Facebook stalking (though, honestly, give me time). It was just one of those weird heavy days—the kind where your heart feels a little wrinkled and your brain starts asking dramatic questions l