Grow in Grace

Blog

  • Finding Strength and Hope Through Life’s Challenges

    Life often takes us on unexpected journeys, and sometimes those journeys include profound challenges. For me, one of the most difficult periods was navigating divorce, a time that tested my faith and resilience.

    Embracing Faith Admist Adversity:

    During those challenging times, I found that my relationship with God was my anchor. It was through faith that I discovered a source of strength beyond my own understanding. Even in moments of profound loss, I learned that God makes beauty from ashes, transforming pain into growth and resilience.

    Isaiah 61:3- and provide for those who grieve in Zion-to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garmet of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor.

    The Power of Discernment and Hope:

    As I moved through each day, sometimes hour by hour, I had to constantly check in and ask which voice was I listening to. God’s voice brought clarity, peace, and comfort, while confusion and anxiety were not from Him. This discernment helped me navigate the journey with greater clarity and faith.

    Embracing Growth and Renewal:

    Through it all, I’ve come to understand that every challenge is an opportunity for growth. My faith has not only helped me heal but has also empowered me to be a source of strength for my children and others. As we continue forward, let us hold fast to hope, faith, and the assurance that God’s purpose is always at work.

    –Wendy

  • Faith Is a Muscle

    Faith Is a Muscle

    Faith is like a muscle. If you don’t use it, you lose it. And no one can do the work for you.

    I go to the gym with a trainer, and her presence motivates me. She encourages me, pushes me, believes I can do more than I think I can. But no matter how great my trainer is, she can’t lift the weights for me. I still have to do the work.

    Faith works the same way.

    Friends and community can motivate your faith. They can pray for you, encourage you, even believe for you when your faith feels weak. Scripture tells us, “Therefore encourage one another and build each other up”(1 Thessalonians 5:11). But encouragement doesn’t replace responsibility. “Each of us will give account of ourselves to God”(Romans 14:12).

    Our walk with Jesus is personal. Just like strength in the gym requires effort, faith requires action. “Faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action is dead”(James 2:17). We have to show up, trust God, and take steps of obedience—especially when it’s uncomfortable.

    Spiritual growth doesn’t happen by accident. Scripture reminds us to “work out our salvation with fear and trembling”(Philippians 2:12). That doesn’t mean earning grace—it means actively choosing trust, surrender, and obedience in our daily lives.

    Others can walk beside us, cheer us on, and support us—but they can’t do the work for us. Faith is personal. Our trust in Jesus is built one choice at a time.

    —Wendy

  • I Find Myself at a Crossroads: Embracing Growth and Conviction

    I Find Myself at a Crossroads: Embracing Growth and Conviction

    Do you ever struggle with doing the “right thing”? I find myself at a crossroads, constantly trying to do the right thing. It’s a journey filled with challenges, moments of self-doubt, and occasional embarrassment. Yet, it’s also a path of immense growth and self discovery.

    The Journey of Conviction

    In those moments of conviction, when we realize our missteps, we are invited to reflect and grow. It’s not just about feeling guilt; it’s about embracing the opportunity to become better, stronger, and more aligned with our values.

    As we navigate this journey, we are guided by timeless wisdom. Micah 6:8 reminds us:

    “ He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and walk humbly with your God.”

    This scripture underscores the importance of justice, mercy, and humility in our pursuits.

    Ultimately, the journey of doing the right thing is about progress, not perfection. It’s about forgiving ourselves, learning from our experiences, and moving forward with an open heart.

    Prayer

    Dear Heavenly Father,

    Search my heart and reveal anything that is not of You.

    Convict me where I need to change, and give me the courage to respond in obedience.

    Let Your correction lead me closer to You, not away from You.

    Create in me a clean heart and guide my steps in truth. -AMEN

    —Wendy

  • Double-Minded: When the Heart Is Divided

    Double-Minded: When the Heart Is Divided

    There’s a quiet struggle that happens when we want God’s direction but still hold tightly to our own understanding. We pray for clarity, yet hesitate when the answer requires change. We ask for healing, but cling to what feels familiar—even when it’s the very thing that hurt us. This is the space of being double-minded.

    Scripture reminds us, “A double-minded person is unstable in all their ways” (James 1:8). Not because God is withholding, but because a divided heart can’t fully rest. When our trust is split between faith and fear, obedience and comfort, we feel the tension in our spirit.

    I’ve had to admit that I’ve been my own worst enemy in this—wanting God’s direction while resisting the surrender it requires. Caught between faith and fear, clarity and comfort, I delayed healing by holding on longer than I should have.

    Single-minded faith doesn’t mean we never question—it means we choose where we place our trust. It’s deciding to anchor ourselves in God’s truth even when emotions pull us in different directions. Healing begins when we stop living torn between what we know God is asking and what we’re afraid to release.

    Peace comes when we surrender the tug-of-war and let God lead fully—not halfway, not conditionally, but wholeheartedly.

    Reflection Question

    Where in my life am I asking God to lead while still holding on to control?

    Prayer

    God, reveal the places where my heart is divided. Give me the courage to release what I’ve been gripping and the faith to trust You fully. Align my heart with Your will and lead me in steady, unwavering faith. Amen.

    –Wendy

  • Trusting God With What’s Ahead

    Trusting God With What’s Ahead

    As a new year approaches there’s often a quiet invitation to pause and reflect—on where we’ve been, what we’ve carried, and who we are becoming. The start of a new year isn’t just about setting goals; it’s about gaining clarity. It’s about stepping into a fresh season with a renewed perspective of who you are, what you want your life to look like, and allowing God to lead you forward.

    But before we can fully embrace what’s ahead, we often have to loosen our grip on what’s behind us.

    Isaiah 43:18

    “Forget the former things, do not dwell on the past.”

    The Weight of “What Ifs”

    The “what ifs” of life can be heavy. What if the relationship had worked? What if I had stayed? What if I had left sooner?

    These questions can quietly keep us stuck—replaying moments we can’t change and outcomes we’ll never fully understand. While reflection can be healthy, living in the past can prevent us from stepping into the future God is preparing us for.

    At some point, the “what ifs” stop being questions and start becoming chains.

    Learning to Let Go of What We Can’t Control

    Letting go doesn’t mean dismissing the pain or pretending the past didn’t matter. It means recognizing that some things are no longer ours to carry. We aren’t meant to have control over every outcome, every relationship, or every chapter that ends.

    There’s freedom in surrender—freedom that comes when we say, “God I trust you even when I dont understand.”

    A New Year, A New Perspective

    Going into a new year with goals isn’t just about what you want to accomplish—it’s about who you want to become. It’s choosing to move with intention, wisdom, and faith. It’s allowing God to shape your path instead of clinging to what feels familiar.

    New season requires new vision. And sometimes, new vision requires releasing the old one.

    Philippians 3:13-14

    “Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one things I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.”

    Whatever you may be struggling with, when you consciously seek God’s guidance, He will bless you with more than money can buy: peace in the midst of storms, comfort in times of pain, joy in moments of sorrow, and direction through life’s trials. He will light your path and lead the way.

    Psalm 119:105

    “Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.”

    —Wendy

  • We Play a Part in Our Own Healing

    We Play a Part in Our Own Healing

    Healing is often something we pray for, hope for, and wait on—but over the last ten years has reminded me that we also participate in it. We play a part in our own healing, and that role requires intention, courage, and honesty. Healing doesn’t happen by accident, and it doesn’t come simply with the passing of time. Time may soften the edges of pain, but it is what we choose to do within that time that shapes true restoration.

    God is our healer, but He often invites us into the process rather than removing us from it. There is a partnership between divine grace and personal responsibility. Prayer matters deeply—but so do the steps we take when God reveals what needs to change. Healing begins when we stop avoiding the pain and start acknowledging it.

    Playing a part in our healing means showing up for ourselves even when it’s uncomfortable. It means naming what hurt us instead of minimizing it. It means recognizing patterns that no longer serve us and having the courage to choose differently. Healing asks us to stop waiting for apologies we may never receive and to stop placing our peace in the hands of people who may not know how to protect it.

    There is humility in admitting our need for God, and there is obedience in responding to what He asks of us. Sometimes healing looks like prayer and surrender. Other times it looks like boundaries, rest, or walking away. Sometimes it looks like forgiveness, and other times it looks like allowing ourselves to grieve what was lost. Each step matters. Each choice carries weight.

    We play a part in our own healing when we choose not to remain stuck, when we allow God to renew our minds and soften our hearts, and when we trust that tending to our wounds is not a lack of faith but an expression of it. Healing is not instant, and it is rarely linear—but when we partner with God and take responsibility for our growth, restoration becomes not only possible, but purposeful.

    —Wendy

  • Finding God Winks in Healing and Letting Go

    One practice that has gently reshaped my days is learning to look for what I call “God winks.” They aren’t always loud or dramatic—most of the time, they’re quiet, almost easy to miss. A timely text, a song that speaks directly to my heart, a stranger’s kindness, or a moment of peace that doesn’t quite make sense. These small reminders show me that God is present, attentive, and walking with me even in the ordinary. When life feels heavy or uncertain, looking for God winks helps me slow down, shift my focus, and recognize that He is still working—often in ways I didn’t expect, but always in ways I need.

    New Connections in a Season of Healing

    New connections have been very important in my life this year, especially in a season where healing required me to let go of what once felt familiar. Letting go wasn’t easy—it meant releasing relationships, expectations, and versions of life I thought would last forever. But in the space that followed, God began to place new people in my path. These connections didn’t replace what was lost; they supported what was healing. They reminded me that growth often comes after surrender, and that God is faithful to meet us in the empty spaces we’re afraid to face.

    Each new connection felt like a quiet God wink—evidence that letting go isn’t the end of the story, but the beginning of something restored.

    Scripture Reflection

    “See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?”

    — Isaiah 43:19

    This verse reminds me that God often brings renewal not by returning us to what was, but by gently leading us into what’s next—inviting us to trust Him even when the path feels unfamiliar.

    Closing Prayer

    God, thank You for meeting me in the spaces where I’ve had to let go. Thank You for the healing You bring, even when it feels slow and uncertain. Help me trust You with what I release and remain open to the new connections You place in my life. Teach me to recognize Your presence in the small moments, the God winks that remind me I am never alone. Continue to restore what has been wounded, and guide me forward with grace, courage, and hope.

    Amen.

    —Wendy

  • When Desire and Discernment Collide After Betrayal

    When Desire and Discernment Collide After Betrayal

    There’s a quiet tension that settles in after betrayal—a space where what we want and what we know we need are no longer the same. It’s an uncomfortable place to stand, torn between familiarity and wisdom, between comfort and truth.

    We often reach for what feels familiar because familiarity feels safer than change. Even when it’s the very thing that wounded us, it carries a sense of predictability. Yet Scripture reminds us that familiarity is not always protection.

    “There is a way that appears to be right, but in the end it leads to death.”

    — Proverbs 14:12

    Betrayal has a way of confusing the heart. It clouds clarity and makes comfort feel more important than discernment. Our emotions can grow loud, urging us to return to what once felt right. But God gently reminds us:

    “The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?”

    — Jeremiah 17:9

    Healing often asks us to loosen our grip on what we once believed was good and trust that God sees what we cannot yet fully understand. Letting go doesn’t mean the desire disappears overnight; it means choosing obedience in the midst of longing.

    “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.”

    — Proverbs 3:5

    Growth rarely comes from holding on. More often, it comes from trusting God enough to release what no longer protects our peace. Surrender is not weakness—it is wisdom.

    “Cast your cares on the Lord and He will sustain you.”

    — Psalm 55:22

    When we choose release over resistance, God begins to restore clarity, peace, and direction—often in ways we could not have imagined.

    “See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?”

    — Isaiah 43:19

    Lord,

    You see the places where our hearts feel torn—where desire and discernment are pulling in opposite directions. You know how betrayal has shaken our trust and clouded our clarity. Help us to release what feels familiar but no longer protects our peace.

    Give us the strength to choose obedience even when it’s difficult, and the wisdom to trust You when we cannot yet see the full picture. Quiet our hearts when emotions grow loud, and replace confusion with Your peace.

    Teach us to let go with faith, not fear—believing that what You remove is making room for healing, restoration, and something new. We place our hearts in Your hands, trusting that You are gentle, faithful, and always working for our good.

    Amen.

    —Wendy

  • Renewed Strength Along the Way

    We all know where to find our physical strength. We exercise, rest, fuel our bodies, and build routines that help us stay strong. But spiritual strength requires intention too. It grows when we slow down, seek God, and choose to lean on Him rather than our own understanding. Just as our bodies weaken without care, our spirit grows weary when we neglect time in God’s presence. True strength is renewed when we make space for Him to restore us from the inside out.

    When life becomes heavy, it’s often our spiritual strength that feels depleted first. We may keep moving, keep showing up, and holding everything together on the outside, while quietly feeling empty within. That’s usually the moment God reminds us that we are never meant to rely solely on ourselves.

    Spiritual strength is renewed when we pause long enough to listen—when we pray even without the right words, when we open scripture for guidance, and we allow God to meet us in our weakness. Sometimes that renewal comes through the people God places in our path—through encouragement, shared faith, and timely reminders we are not alone.

    During some of my darkest days, God placed people in my life that I never could have planned for. At the time, I didn’t realize the impact they would have on me. Some stayed only briefly, others walked alongside me longer—but each one carried something I needed. Sometimes it was encouragement, sometimes prayer, and sometimes it was simply their presence.

    Even through the simplest things—a conversation, a check-in message, a moment of listening —God reminded me that I was seen and not alone. Looking back, I can see how intentional He was in sending exactly the right people at the right time. They became part of how God renewed my strength when I didn’t have any of my own left.

    God never asks us to be strong on our own. He invites us to come weary, to lay our burdens down, and to trust Him for the strength we need—-one step at a time.

    “But 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

    There is comfort in knowing that renewed strength doesn’t come from striving harder, but from trusting deeper. As we place our hope in God, He restores not only our endurance, but our perspective, peace, and faith for the journey ahead.

    —Wendy

  • Letting go of the weight we’ve learned to carry

    “What are you still carrying that you were never meant to carry?”

    For a long time I didn’t realize how much I was carrying.

    Not because I was weak, or broken, or incapable—but because some burdens become so familiar they start to feel like a part of who we are. Self doubt. Shame. Questioning our worth. People pleasing. We learn to survive instead of confront. These things don’t always come loudly; sometimes they move in quietly and stay for years.

    “Cast your burdens on the Lord, and He will sustain you; He will never permit the righteous be moved.”

    —Psalm 55:22

    And yet, even knowing this, letting go isn’t easy.

    Letting go isn’t a single moment of release—it’s a process. One that often asks us to revisit things we thought we had already “handled.” Healing doesn’t happen once and for all. It unfolds in layers, seasons, and sometimes in circles. And that doesn’t mean we’re failing, it means we’re human.

    “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”

    —Psalm 147:3

    There were times I believed healing meant never struggling again. Never doubting. Never feeling the ache of old wounds. But I’ve learned healing is less about erasing the past and more about loosening its grip. It’s about recognizing when someone no longer serves us—and choosing, again and again, to set it down.

    Letting go requires honesty. It asks us to admit what has been weighing us down and why we’ve held onto it for so long. Sometimes we cling to burdens because they are familiar. Sometimes they’ve shaped us. Sometimes because we don’t know who we are without them.

    “Come to me all who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”

    —Matthew 11:28

    Growth begins when we trust that God can hold what we were never meant to carry alone.

    Grace meets us in the release. Not after we’ve figured it all out. Not once were “healed enough.” Grace meets us right in the middle—in the uncertainty, the unlearning, the slow forward steps.

    “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

    —2 Corinthians 12:9

    Letting go doesn’t mean forgetting. It means choosing freedom over familiarity. It means allowing God to replace heaviness with hope, shame with truth, and fear with peace—over time.

    “Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing.”

    —Isaiah 43:18-19

    And maybe that’s what growing in grace looks like: not arriving, but continuing. Continuing to surrender. Continuing to heal. Continuing to move forward—lighter than before.

    —Wendy