Sometimes we grow quiet, even aloof, with God because it feels like He isn’t interested in us. Yet He is. He sees every detail, knows our weaknesses, observes our failures, and still calls us His children. He delights when we pick ourselves up and step forward into His arms. How comforting it is to know we can bring the whole package of our inadequacies before Him and still be embraced.
Truly, this is a room prepared, a heart restored.
Not rushing His leading, not longing to skip ahead into the future or hurry toward heaven—perhaps that’s why He gives us another day, another chance: to slow down, to grow gently, and to slowly discover how truly good God is.
There are many seasons in our walk with God: seasons of fire and seasons of faint light. Sometimes prayer feels like breathing, and sometimes it feels like a struggle. But maybe prayer is less about perfect consistency and more about honest return.
Life was never meant to be sustained solely by what our hands can accomplish or our minds can imagine.
So maybe it’s okay to rest, to stop striving so hard because His grace reaches even the places where disgrace has stayed far too long.
We don’t need to be sure of ourselves to be sure of where we’re heading.
You know you're growing older and wiser when the past doesn’t hurt the same way anymore.
And sometimes, even a crumb of His presence is enough to change everything.
Come, stop for a while. Tara, kape!
