Grow in Grace

Category: Faith & Growth

  • But God: When the Wilderness Teaches You to Let Go

    But God: When the Wilderness Teaches You to Let Go

    By: Wendy Morris

    “But God…”

    Those two words mean more to me now than they ever used to.

    I grew up hearing them in church. Sunday morning, Sunday night, and Wednesday night—we knew we were going. There was never a question about it. Church was simply part of our routine.

    The same people showed up. We sang many of the same songs. There was the offering, the sermon, and the invitation. Afterward, we usually ate lunch at my grandparents’ house—or at Helen’s Drive-In if we “went out” to eat.

    Those are such precious memories to me now.

    Looking back, I can see that the adults in my life were planting seeds in my heart. I didn’t take those days for granted; I simply didn’t understand their significance yet. I had no idea how much Jesus would come to mean to me as I grew into an adult. I didn’t know how desperately I would one day need the truth I was being taught.

    There was a period during junior high and high school when I stopped attending church. We had moved away from the church we had always attended, and I never felt comfortable in another one. Eventually, we became “comfortable” not going.

    And honestly, I became comfortable living without putting God first.

    Like many teenagers, I was living for the world. Even though I knew better, I often placed my wants ahead of what God wanted for me. I would feel convicted, pray, ask for forgiveness—and then find myself doing the same things all over again.

    I understand now what a dangerous line I was walking.

    Still, God protected me during those years. He saw things I couldn’t see, knew things I couldn’t know, and already understood the plans He had for my life.

    “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” 
    —Jeremiah 29:11

    God never promised that my journey would be easy, but He has shown me that following Him is always worth it.

    My, my, my—He also knew how stubborn I could be. He knew exactly what it would take to teach me, humble me, and mold me into the woman I am today.

    I am not perfect. I still fail. I still have moments when I want to take control and choose my own direction. But I am saved by His grace. I am learning to surrender daily, walk in obedience, and trust Him even when I cannot see where He is leading me.

    The deepest desire of my heart now is to glorify Him—not myself and not anyone else.

    My way has never proven to work out very well anyway. You would think that realization would make surrender easy, but sometimes it is still incredibly difficult. I often have to choose to trust where God is leading me instead of following where I might want to go.

    If you know me, then you know how hard that can be for me.

    That is why I stand on His promises—sometimes day by day and sometimes moment by moment.

    I often feel as though it took me forty years in the wilderness to loosen my grip on my own way. I used to read the story of the Israelites wandering in the wilderness and wonder how anyone could continue going in circles for forty years.

    How could they keep forgetting what God had done?

    How could they doubt Him after everything He had already shown them?

    How could they continue trying to do things their own way?

    Well, here I am today to say: I understand now.

    Sometimes we wander because we are afraid to trust. Sometimes we keep circling the same mountain because surrender feels more frightening than what is familiar. Sometimes God has to let us reach the end of our own strength before we finally loosen our grip and place everything in His hands.

    The wilderness is not always punishment. Sometimes it is preparation.

    It is where God teaches us dependence. It is where our faith becomes more than something we heard about in church. It is where the seeds planted during childhood begin to take root. It is where we learn that God is faithful—not because someone else told us He is, but because we have experienced His faithfulness for ourselves.

    I now understand that those childhood church services were preparing me for battles I didn’t know I would face. Those familiar songs gave me truths I would later cling to. Those sermons planted words in my heart that the Holy Spirit would bring back to me when I needed them most.

    None of it was wasted.

    Neither were the years when I wandered. God used even those seasons to show me how much I needed Him.

    I am still being shaped. I am still learning obedience. I am still surrendering my plans and trusting His. But when I look back over my life, I can clearly see the places where my story could have ended differently.

    But God protected me.

    But God pursued me.

    But God forgave me.

    But God restored me.

    But God never let me go.

    Those two words are no longer simply something I heard in church. They are part of my testimony.

    My life may not have unfolded the way I once imagined, but God has been faithful through every chapter. I may have spent years trying to lead myself, but He never stopped calling me back to Him.

    Today, I am learning to release my grip and trust the hands that have held me all along.

    I have wandered. I have struggled. I have been stubborn. I have failed.

    But God.

    And because of Him, my story is still being written.

    Reflection

    Are you walking through a wilderness season right now? Could God be using it to teach you trust, obedience, or surrender? What might change if you loosened your grip and allowed Him to lead?

    Prayer

    Father, thank You for never giving up on me, even during the seasons when I wandered and chose my own way. Thank You for every seed of faith that was planted in my heart and for protecting me when I didn’t understand how much I needed You. Help me loosen my grip on my plans and trust where You are leading me. When I feel uncertain, remind me of Your faithfulness. Continue molding me into the person You created me to be, and let my life bring glory to You. In Jesus’ name, amen.

  • Twelve Years to Whole

    Twelve Years to Whole

    By: Wendy Morris

    “And you are complete in Him.” — Colossians 2:10

    For a long time, I viewed the last twelve years as a waiting season.

    Twelve years since my divorce. Twelve years of healing, rebuilding, surrendering, and learning how to trust God again. Twelve years of hoping that perhaps the next chapter would bring the husband, best friend, and partner I still desire.

    But lately, something has shifted in me.

    I realized that I no longer feel as though my life is waiting to begin. I don’t feel incomplete because I’m single. I’m not searching for someone to rescue me, fill an empty space, or give me the peace I’ve been longing for.

    My life feels complete—regardless of whether my circumstances change.

    And it took twelve years to get here.

    The Biblical Significance of Twelve

    Throughout Scripture, the number twelve often represents divine order, authority, and completeness in God’s purposes.

    There were twelve tribes of Israel and twelve disciples of Jesus. After Jesus fed the multitude, twelve baskets of food remained. Revelation describes the New Jerusalem with twelve gates and twelve foundations.

    There was also a woman in Scripture who had suffered for twelve years before she reached out and touched the garment of Jesus. In the same passage, Jesus raised Jairus’s twelve-year-old daughter back to life.

    Twelve years of suffering.

    Twelve years of waiting.

    And then came healing, restoration, and new life.

    When I began thinking about the significance of twelve, I couldn’t ignore how deeply it spoke to my own story. I don’t believe numbers should be treated as promises or predictions, but I do believe God can use details to remind us of His faithfulness.

    Maybe these twelve years were never wasted years.

    Maybe they were years of divine order—years when God was putting the broken pieces of my life back into their proper places.

    I Wasn’t Just Waiting—I Was Becoming

    I used to believe I was waiting for the person who would make my life feel complete. But looking back, I can see that God was doing something much deeper.

    He was teaching me who I am without another person defining me.

    He was healing wounds I once thought would always control me. He was teaching me boundaries, discernment, forgiveness, and self-respect. He was showing me that forgiveness does not require allowing someone to return and hurt me again.

    He taught me how to sit with myself and still have peace. He showed me that loneliness does not have to convince me to settle. He taught me that I can deeply desire companionship without allowing that desire to become an idol.

    These years strengthened my faith. They taught me to pray, journal, surrender, and depend on God in ways I may never have learned if everything had happened according to my timeline.

    I thought I was waiting for God to change my circumstances.

    All along, God was changing me.

    Complete Does Not Mean Finished

    Feeling complete does not mean my story is finished. It does not mean I no longer desire marriage or that I have stopped believing God could bring someone into my life.

    I still desire a husband who loves God first—a best friend, partner, protector, and companion with whom I can share this life. I still believe there is something beautiful about two people walking together with God at the center.

    But that person will not be responsible for making me whole.

    He will not be asked to heal wounds that I have refused to surrender to God. He will not be expected to become the source of my identity, worth, or peace.

    If God brings someone into my life, he will not complete an incomplete woman. He will add to a life that is already full, peaceful, and rooted in Christ.

    That realization changes everything.

    I can desire love without chasing it. I can hope without forcing anything. I can wait without believing my life is passing me by.

    I am not waiting to become whole anymore.

    Perhaps This Was a Completion Season

    Maybe these twelve years were not simply a waiting season.

    Maybe they were a completion season.

    Not the completion of my entire story, but the completion of something within me. The end of living from old wounds. The end of believing that another person holds the missing piece of my life. The end of looking outside myself for something only God could give me.

    God has taken the woman who once lived in survival mode and taught her how to live in peace. He has taken what was broken and created something stronger, wiser, and more discerning.

    It took twelve years, but I can finally say this with confidence:

    My life is complete because my completeness comes from Christ.

    I am still growing. I am still becoming. I still have desires and prayers that have not been answered in the way I once imagined. But my joy is no longer postponed until those answers arrive.

    These twelve years were not empty.

    They were holy.

    They were necessary.

    And perhaps they were God’s way of bringing order, healing, and completeness to a part of my story that once felt completely shattered.

    I don’t know exactly what God will do next, but I no longer need the next chapter to prove that this one has been meaningful.

    I am whole.

    And now, with an open heart and open hands, I’m simply watching to see what God writes next.

    Reflection Questions

    1. Have you been postponing your joy while waiting for something in your life to change?
    2. Are you asking another person or circumstance to provide something only God can give you?
    3. What has God developed within you during your waiting season?
    4. What if the season you called “waiting” was actually a season of healing and becoming?
    5. Can you recognize the ways your life is already full and complete in Christ?

    Closing Prayer

    Father, thank You for every season You have used to heal, strengthen, and shape me. Forgive me for the times I believed my life could not be complete until my circumstances changed. Help me find my identity, peace, and wholeness in You alone. Thank You for never wasting a single year of my story. Give me the faith to appreciate where I am while trusting You with whatever comes next. In Jesus’ name, Amen! 

    —Wendy

  • Easy Things Don’t Change You

    Easy Things Don’t Change You

    By: Wendy Morris

    Have you ever looked back and really thought about what changed you?

    Not what made you comfortable.
    Not what went according to plan.
    Not the seasons when everything seemed easy.

    What actually changed you?

    For me, some of the most challenging and painful seasons of my life are where I discovered who I was—and who I was becoming.

    I certainly didn’t understand it while I was going through it. There were days that were absolutely miserable. My family could tell you that. There are still specific moments I can remember so vividly that, if I allow myself to sit there too long, I can almost feel the emotions all over again.

    But I don’t look back because I want to relive them.

    I look back because I want to remember what God brought me through.

    There is a difference.

    Looking back can keep us attached to our pain, or it can give us perspective. I don’t need to return emotionally to those places to prove that they happened. I simply need to remember where I was, what God taught me there, and Who brought me out.

    The Wilderness Taught Me Dependence

    Looking back now, I can see that God was showing me things about myself during those difficult seasons.

    Things I probably wouldn’t have learned when life was easy.

    He exposed areas that needed healing. He showed me things I needed to surrender. He revealed where I was depending on myself instead of depending on Him. And although some of that process was incredibly painful, it was necessary to mold me into more of who He says I am.

    Deuteronomy 8 talks about remembering the wilderness. God didn’t want His people to remain there. He wanted them to remember what they learned there.

    I understand that differently now.

    Some seasons aren’t meant to become our permanent address. They’re meant to teach us something we carry with us when we leave.

    My wilderness taught me that I didn’t have enough strength on my own.

    I needed God.

    Completely.

    There were times when I wondered where He was. There were moments when it felt like maybe He had left me. But looking back, I can honestly say:

    He never did.

    Sometimes He gave me more strength.

    Sometimes He gave me courage.

    Sometimes He gave me peace that didn’t make sense considering what was happening around me.

    And sometimes He placed exactly the right person in my path—someone who mentored me, encouraged me, spoke truth to me, or gave me exactly what I needed during that particular season.

    God didn’t always change my circumstances when I wanted Him to.

    Sometimes He changed me in the circumstances.

    And that may have been the greater miracle.

    I Don’t Want to Learn the Same Lesson Twice

    There are places in my life I never want to return to.

    Not because I’m afraid of my past, but because I know what it cost me.

    I know what God brought me through.

    I know what certain decisions did to my peace.

    I know what happens when I take my eyes off God and start convincing myself that my way might work just as well.

    Because I’ve challenged that one too.

    I’ve wanted what I wanted.

    I’ve justified things.

    I’ve tried to tweak Scripture to make something fit what I wanted to do.

    I’ve reasoned with myself.

    What’s really wrong with it?

    It’s just a little compromise.

    Just a little temptation here.

    Just a little there.

    But temptation rarely walks into our lives announcing:

    “I’m here to completely derail you.”

    It’s usually much quieter than that.

    Just this once.

    It’s really not that serious.

    Everybody does it.

    God understands.

    And yes, God does understand our humanity.

    Yes, there is grace.

    Yes, there is forgiveness.

    Thank God for all of it.

    But grace isn’t permission to continually choose something we already know God has asked us to surrender.

    Romans 6:1–2 reminds us that grace was never intended to become an excuse to continue deliberately in sin.

    At some point, obedience requires us to stop asking how close we can get to the line and start asking:

    Does this honor God?

    Temptation Is Real

    I’ve learned that growth isn’t only tested during the huge crises of life.

    Sometimes it’s tested afterward.

    Quietly.

    When no one else knows.

    When you have the opportunity to return to something God already showed you wasn’t good for you.

    That’s when the questions become different.

    Will I go back to what God already delivered me from?

    Will I justify something simply because I want it?

    Will I bend Scripture around my desires, or will I surrender my desires to Scripture?

    Do I actually believe God’s way is better when His way isn’t the easiest way?

    That’s where spiritual maturity starts getting real.

    The hard season teaches us who God is.

    The temptation afterward reveals whether we believe Him.

    His Way Is Better Than Mine

    I’ve tried doing things my way.

    I’ve justified my way.

    I’ve tried convincing myself that something wasn’t really that bad.

    I’ve even tried making my way sound a little more like God’s way so I could feel better about choosing it.

    And do you know what I’ve discovered?

    His way is still better.

    Every time.

    God gives us free will, but our choices still have consequences. We can choose something outside of what God desires for us and then wonder why we don’t have the peace we expected it to bring.

    Something outside God’s will may satisfy us temporarily, but temporary satisfaction and lasting peace are two very different things.

    I’ve lived enough life now to know that I don’t want something badly enough to continually sacrifice my peace, my growth, my relationship with God, or the person He has worked so hard to shape me into.

    That doesn’t mean I’ll never struggle.

    It doesn’t mean temptation disappears.

    It doesn’t mean I’ll always get everything right.

    It means when I don’t, I know where to return.

    Back to Him.

    Remember, But Don’t Move Back In

    I don’t want to live in my past.

    I don’t want to replay painful moments until I feel everything I felt then.

    When my mind starts going there, sometimes I have to change my thoughts quickly and remind myself:

    I’m not there anymore.

    God brought me through it.

    But I do want to remember.

    I want to remember the prayers I thought weren’t being answered.

    I want to remember the days I didn’t think I had enough strength.

    I want to remember the people God sent at exactly the right time.

    I want to remember the peace that showed up when my circumstances hadn’t changed.

    I want to remember the woman I was and recognize the woman God has been molding me into.

    Because sometimes we need to look back—not to go backward, but to recognize just how far God has brought us.

    Easy things don’t always change us.

    Sometimes it’s the wilderness.

    Sometimes it’s heartbreak.

    Sometimes it’s disappointment.

    Sometimes it’s surrender.

    Sometimes it’s resisting the temptation to return to something familiar simply because familiar feels easier than obedience.

    And sometimes it’s finally admitting:

    “God, I’ve tried my way. Your way is better.”

    I don’t know what challenges are ahead of me, and I don’t expect to get everything right.

    But I know something today that I didn’t always understand:

    I don’t have to be strong enough on my own.

    I never was.

    God was my strength then.

    He’s my strength now.

    And when I look back over everything He’s already carried me through, I have every reason to trust Him with where He’s leading me next.

    Reflection Questions

    • What difficult season changed you the most, and what did God teach you through it?
    • Are you remembering your past to recognize God’s faithfulness, or are you allowing yourself to emotionally live there again?
    • Is there something God has already shown you isn’t good for you that you’re being tempted to return to?
    • Are you surrendering your desires to Scripture, or trying to make Scripture fit your desires?
    • Where might God be asking you to choose obedience over temporary satisfaction?
    • When you look back over your life, where can you clearly see that God never left you?

    Closing Prayer

    Lord, thank You for never leaving me, even in the seasons when I couldn’t see what You were doing. Thank You for the strength, grace, people, and peace You provided exactly when I needed them. Help me remember where You’ve brought me from without returning to the places You’ve called me out of. Give me wisdom when I’m tempted, conviction when I begin to compromise, and courage to choose Your way over mine. Continue molding me into who You created me to be. I know now that I don’t have to do this in my own strength. Your way is better, and I choose to trust You.

    Amen.

    —Wendy

  • The Quiet Evidence of Growth

    The Quiet Evidence of Growth

    By: Wendy Morris

    Sometimes I find myself wondering how much my faith has really changed over the years.

    After everything I’ve walked through—the heartbreak, betrayal, disappointments, healing, and countless lessons God has faithfully carried me through—I occasionally wonder if I’m really that different.

    At first, I think maybe I’m not.

    Then I look at my life.

    I notice that situations which once would have sent me into anxiety, fear, or panic no longer have the same hold on me. My mind doesn’t immediately race to the worst-case scenario. I don’t feel the same desperate need to control every outcome or figure everything out on my own.

    Instead, I pause.

    I pray.

    I trust.

    That doesn’t mean I never struggle or that I’ve somehow “arrived.” It simply means God has been quietly transforming me from the inside out.

    And maybe that’s what spiritual growth often looks like—not dramatic moments everyone can see, but subtle changes in the way we respond to everyday life.

    The greatest evidence of my growth isn’t that life has become easier.

    It’s that what once shook me no longer has the power to move me.

    As I’ve reflected on that, I’ve noticed something else changing in me.

    I’ve become content.

    Not because everything in my life is exactly how I hoped it would be.

    Not because every dream has come true.

    Not because I’ve stopped wanting good things.

    But because I’ve stopped believing those things are responsible for my happiness.

    There was a time when I was always looking for the next thing that I thought would finally make me feel complete.

    Maybe it was another accomplishment.

    Maybe it was a new opportunity.

    Maybe it was finally finding the right relationship.

    I lived as though peace was always waiting somewhere in the future—just one answered prayer, one achievement, or one person away.

    But every time I reached what I thought would satisfy me, the feeling eventually faded, and I found myself searching again.

    Looking back, I realize I wasn’t really chasing those things.

    I was chasing peace.

    And peace was never something another person or another accomplishment could give me.

    Over time, through surrender, obedience, and allowing God to heal the deepest places of my heart, something changed.

    The void I spent years trying to fill slowly disappeared.

    Not because life became perfect.

    Not because I suddenly had everything I’d ever wanted.

    But because God was changing me.

    He was renewing my mind.

    He was teaching me that lasting peace isn’t found in circumstances. It isn’t found in relationships. It isn’t found in success.

    It is found in Him.

    Now I can honestly say something I never thought I would.

    I enjoy my own company.

    I can sit quietly with myself without feeling lonely.

    I can experience joy in an ordinary day.

    I can embrace this season of life without constantly wishing it away.

    If God chooses to bring someone into my life one day, I’ll welcome that as a beautiful gift.

    If new opportunities come, I’ll be grateful.

    If dreams are fulfilled, I’ll celebrate them.

    But none of those things are responsible for making me whole.

    They can add to my joy.

    They just don’t create it.

    That has been one of the greatest freedoms I’ve ever experienced.

    It’s taken years to reach this place.

    Years of healing.

    Years of facing hard truths.

    Years of surrendering control.

    Years of allowing God to replace fear with trust, striving with surrender, and insecurity with confidence in Him.

    When I look back now, I don’t just see someone who survived difficult seasons.

    I see someone whose mind has been renewed.

    Someone who no longer looks outside herself for what God has already placed within her through His presence.

    The woman I am today still has dreams.

    She still hopes.

    She still prays for what’s ahead.

    But she’s no longer waiting for something—or someone—to make her life meaningful.

    She has learned that contentment isn’t the absence of desire.

    It’s the presence of peace.

    The Apostle Paul wrote, “I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances” (Philippians 4:11).

    Notice he said he learned it.

    Contentment wasn’t instant.

    It was cultivated.

    Looking back, I realize that’s exactly what God has been doing in my life all along.

    He wasn’t simply changing my circumstances.

    He was changing me.

    And perhaps that’s His greatest miracle in my story.

    Reflection Questions

    1. What situations no longer affect you the way they once did, and what does that reveal about your growth?
    2. Are you looking to a person, achievement, or future circumstance to provide the peace only God can give?
    3. What evidence can you see that God has been renewing your mind?
    4. How can you choose gratitude and contentment in your current season while still trusting God for what lies ahead?

    Prayer

    Father, thank You for the quiet work You have done in my heart. Thank You for healing places I thought would always remain broken and for renewing my mind through Your truth. Thank You that my peace no longer depends on my circumstances but on Your presence. Continue to teach me to live with open hands, grateful for every blessing You give while remaining fully satisfied in You. Help me to trust Your timing, embrace each season with joy, and reflect the freedom that comes from knowing You are enough. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

    —Wendy

  • When Obedience Doesn’t Make Sense

    When Obedience Doesn’t Make Sense

    By: Wendy Morris

    Obedience rarely makes sense in the moment. It often asks us to trust before we understand, to move before we see the outcome.

    Peter had every reason to question Jesus after a long night of catching nothing. He was tired, discouraged, and likely convinced that the effort had already failed. Yet in that very place of exhaustion, Jesus gave him a simple instruction that defied logic: “Put out into deep water, and let down the nets for a catch.” One act of obedience led to a miracle Peter could never have produced on his own.

    I’ve learned that some of God’s greatest blessings in my own life have come after simple acts of obedience that didn’t make sense at first. There have been seasons when God asked me to let go, to wait, or to step into something unfamiliar before I understood why. In those moments, obedience felt uncertain—sometimes even uncomfortable. But looking back now, I can clearly see that His instructions were never meant to limit me. They were leading me into something far greater than I could have imagined.

    Obedience isn’t about having all the answers. It’s about trusting the One who does. It’s choosing to believe that God sees what we cannot see and knows what we do not yet understand. What feels like a risk in your hands may actually be the very place where God reveals His faithfulness.

    And often, it begins with something simple.

    Sometimes one quiet, surrendered “yes” to God is all it takes to change the entire course of your life.

    As Scripture reminds us:

    “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to Him, and He will make your paths straight.” — Proverbs 3:5–6

    If you’re standing at a place of uncertainty today, unsure of what obedience might cost you, take heart. God is not asking you to see the whole path—only to trust the One who is already at the end of it.

    —Wendy 

    Reflection Questions:

    ● Where in my life is God asking me to obey even though it doesn’t make sense right now?

    ● What fear or hesitation is making it hard for me to say “yes” to God?

    ● Can I recall a past moment when obedience led to something better than I expected?

    ● What would it look like for me to trust God with the next step instead of the whole journey?

    #RootedInStrength #ChristianEncouragement #FaithOverFear #TrustGod #WalkByFaith #Obedience #GodsTiming

  • Are You Running From Your Own Healing?

    Are You Running From Your Own Healing?

    By: Wendy Morris

    “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” — Psalm 147:3

    Are you running?

    “Are you running from your own healing?”

    It’s a simple question, yet it has the power to reveal what we’ve been avoiding for far too long.

    Healing isn’t always about time passing. Sometimes it’s about being willing to face the very things we’ve spent years trying to escape. We stay busy. We distract ourselves with work. We jump from relationship to relationship. We pour ourselves into everyone else. We bury our emotions beneath constant activity.

    But eventually, what remains unhealed asks for our attention.

    Many of us wonder why we continue struggling with the same fears, insecurities, unhealthy patterns, or emotional triggers. Maybe the better question isn’t, “Why am I still struggling?” but rather:

    • Am I avoiding difficult emotions instead of processing them?
    • Am I seeking temporary comfort instead of lasting healing?
    • Am I willing to let God reveal the places in my heart that still need His healing touch?

    My Own Journey

    During my own healing journey, I found myself doing the work—but also fighting it.

    I wanted healing, yet I struggled to fully surrender. Loneliness often convinced me that what I needed was another person in my life. I believed that if I just had companionship, the emptiness would disappear. Looking back, I realize I wasn’t truly looking for a relationship—I was looking for relief.

    While God was trying to heal the deeper places in my heart, I was sometimes looking for someone else to fill what only He could.

    God patiently began revealing that the issue wasn’t simply loneliness. It was the belief that another person’s presence could make me whole.

    He showed me that before I could build healthy relationships with someone else, I needed to learn how to sit with my own emotions. I needed to process my pain instead of running from it. I needed to understand why I felt incomplete on my own. Most importantly, I needed to find my identity in Christ instead of another person.

    That was one of the hardest lessons I’ve ever learned.

    Healing Requires Surrender

    Healing requires courage because it asks us to stop running and start surrendering.

    It means allowing God into the painful places we’d rather keep hidden. It means acknowledging the wounds instead of pretending they no longer exist.

    The beautiful part is that God never exposes our wounds to shame us. He reveals them so He can heal them.

    As I surrendered more of my heart to Him, something began to change.

    The loneliness that once controlled my decisions slowly lost its grip. My need for validation from others became less important. I learned to enjoy my own company. I began loving the woman God created me to be.

    I realized that wholeness isn’t found in another person—it is found in Christ.

    Relationships are a gift from God, but they were never meant to become our source of completeness.

    Freedom is Found in Him

    The freedom we long for is often found on the other side of obedience, honesty, and surrender.

    While the healing process may be uncomfortable, it produces something that temporary distractions never can—peace, freedom, confidence, and true wholeness.

    Looking back now, I don’t believe God was withholding something good from me during my waiting season.

    He was preparing me.

    He was teaching me to become whole in Him before asking someone else to walk beside me.

    What once felt like loneliness became an invitation to know God more deeply. The more I learned to love the person He created me to be, the less I depended on others to fill a place they were never meant to occupy.

    Now I understand that healing isn’t about becoming perfect.

    It’s about becoming surrendered.

    God’ Promise

    “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” — Psalm 147:3

    God never asks us to heal ourselves.

    He simply asks us to bring our brokenness to Him.

    The places you’ve been trying to hide may be the very places where His grace wants to meet you.

    Stop running.

    Your healing is waiting.

    Reflection Questions

    1. What emotions or situations have I been avoiding instead of processing?
    2. Where have I been seeking temporary comfort instead of lasting healing?
    3. Is there an area of my life I haven’t fully surrendered to God?
    4. Am I looking to another person to provide what only God can provide?
    5. What is one step of obedience God is asking me to take today?

    Prayer

    Father,

    Search my heart and reveal the places where I have been running instead of healing. Give me the courage to face the wounds I’ve tried to ignore and the faith to trust You with every broken place.

    Help me stop seeking temporary comfort and begin pursuing the lasting peace that only You can give. Teach me to find my identity, security, joy, and worth in You alone.

    When loneliness tempts me to settle for less than Your best, remind me that You are enough. Continue Your work in me until my heart is fully surrendered and my life reflects Your goodness and Your faithfulness.

    Thank You for being the God who heals the brokenhearted and binds up our wounds with compassion and unfailing love.

    In Jesus’ name,

    Amen.

    —Wendy

  • Faithful in the Waiting

    Faithful in the Waiting

    By: Wendy Morris

    The people God uses the most are not always the ones with the easiest paths. Often, they are the ones who stayed faithful in the hardest seasons. The ones who refused to let the waiting or the silence convince them to stop believing.

    They are the people who held onto the promises of God for so long that it left marks on their hands — not wounds, but evidence of faithfulness.

    Waiting seasons are rarely comfortable. Most of the time, preparation looks and feels like loss.

    It can feel like God is stripping away the very things we once held tightly to — relationships, comfort, familiarity, plans, and even dreams we thought would last forever. Sometimes the things we cling to most are quietly chipping away at us little by little, and God, in His mercy, begins pruning what no longer aligns with where He is taking us.

    The wilderness seasons can feel painful. Doors close. Relationships end. Dreams shatter. Life feels uncertain and confusing. But what feels like everything falling apart may actually be God building your faith for what He has promised.

    The waiting is not punishment.
    The wilderness is often preparation.

    Genesis 50:20 reminds us:

    “What the enemy meant for evil, God meant for good.”

    Every heartbreak, disappointment, betrayal, delay, and lonely season can become part of the process God uses to shape us into who He created us to be.

    All the pain and heartbreak you survived were not wasted. God was building you. Strengthening you. Refining your character. Preparing you for an assignment bigger than what you can currently see.

    And one day, what suddenly unfolds in your life will reveal that God was working the entire time — even when you could not see it.

    Joseph: The Pit Was Not the End

    When Joseph was betrayed by his brothers, sold into slavery, falsely accused, and thrown into prison, he could not see the palace from the pit.

    He could not see the promotion from the prison cell.

    He could not understand how every betrayal, every closed door, and every painful year was actually part of God’s intentional preparation for his future.

    But God could.

    Joseph waited many years between receiving the dream and seeing it fulfilled. During the waiting, he endured rejection, injustice, isolation, and suffering. Yet God used every season to prepare him to eventually lead Egypt and save countless lives during famine.

    What looked like abandonment was actually preparation.

    Abraham and Sarah: Waiting on the Promise

    Abraham and Sarah waited decades for the promised son God told them they would have.

    The delay tested their faith, patience, and trust in God’s timing. But God still fulfilled His promise exactly as He said He would.

    Sometimes waiting stretches us in ways comfort never could.

    David: Anointed Before Appointed

    David was anointed king while still a young shepherd boy, but years passed before he actually became king.

    During the waiting, David was hunted by Saul, lived in caves, and faced betrayal, fear, and uncertainty.

    Yet God used the waiting season to shape David’s character before giving him the crown.

    The hidden season mattered just as much as the public one.

    Moses: The Wilderness Was Preparation

    Moses spent forty years in Egypt and another forty years in the wilderness before leading Israel out of bondage.

    The wilderness was not wasted time.

    God was preparing him there.

    The quiet seasons often teach us dependence on God in ways success and comfort never can.

    Hannah: Faith Through Heartbreak

    Hannah prayed and wept for a child while enduring deep emotional pain and misunderstanding.

    Year after year, she waited.

    But eventually, God gave her Samuel.

    Her story reminds us that God sees every tear we cry in private.

    Noah: Obedience Before the Rain

    Noah obeyed God and spent years building the ark before a single drop of rain ever fell.

    Imagine continuing in obedience without visible evidence that anything was happening.

    That is faith.

    Job: Waiting Through Suffering

    Job endured an incredibly painful season of loss, confusion, and suffering while waiting for restoration and understanding.

    Even in the silence, God never abandoned him.

    Elijah: Strengthened in the Wilderness

    After a great victory, Elijah entered a lonely wilderness season where God restored and strengthened him.

    Sometimes even after mountaintop moments, we still walk through valleys.

    God meets us there too.

    The Israelites: Learning Dependence on God

    The Israelites wandered in the wilderness for forty years before entering the Promised Land.

    The waiting season exposed fear, unbelief, and disobedience — but it also taught them dependence on God.

    Sometimes God has to remove our reliance on temporary things before we fully trust Him.

    Even Jesus Experienced Waiting

    Jesus Himself experienced seasons of preparation and waiting.

    • Thirty years before beginning ministry
    • Forty days in the wilderness
    • Time spent praying before major decisions

    His life reminds us that preparation often comes before assignment.

    Don’t Waste the Waiting

    When it feels like nothing is happening, remember:

    Joseph could not see the palace from the pit.
    David could not see the throne from the cave.
    Moses could not see deliverance from the wilderness.
    Noah could not see the flood while building the ark.

    But God could.

    So do not stop preparing during your waiting season.

    Take this season seriously. Let God refine you. Heal you. Strengthen you. Teach you. Build your faith. Build your character. Build your dependence on Him.

    One day it will all make sense.

    And when God finally reveals what He was doing behind the scenes, you will realize the waiting was never wasted at all.

    Reflection Questions

    1. Am I obeying God’s Word in the waiting, even when I do not understand what He is doing?
    2. Am I trusting God’s timing, or am I trying to force my own?
    3. Have I allowed disappointment or silence to weaken my faith?
    4. What comfort, relationship, habit, or mindset might God be asking me to release?

    Prayer:

    Lord, if there is anything in my life You are asking me to release — relationships, habits, distractions, mindsets, or comforts — give me the courage to let go and trust that what You have for me is greater.

    Strengthen my faith when disappointment tries to weaken it. Remind me that the waiting is not wasted and that You are using every season to shape me, prepare me, and draw me closer to You.

    In Jesus’ name,

    Amen

    —Wendy

  • When Healing Taught Me My Worth

    When Healing Taught Me My Worth

    By: Wendy Morris

    After my divorce and everything I went through, I was left carrying insecurity, low self-worth, and an emptiness I couldn’t seem to shake — no matter how many people I surrounded myself with.

    I searched for comfort in distractions, conversations, staying busy, and even in being there for everyone else. I looked for healing in places, people, attention, and temporary comfort, hoping something external could quiet the pain I was carrying internally. But at the end of the day, when everything got quiet, I still had to face the parts of myself that were hurting. The rejection, betrayal, confusion, and grief had left wounds deeper than anyone could see.

    What I’ve learned is that brokenness does not always show up loudly. Sometimes it hides behind a smile, productivity, success, or being “strong” for everyone else. Sometimes you can look like you’re functioning while silently questioning your value.

    I think one of the hardest parts after heartbreak is rebuilding the relationship you have with yourself. Learning that someone else’s inability to love you correctly does not determine your worth. Learning that being abandoned, lied to, or hurt does not make you unlovable.

    For a long time, I struggled with trying to find validation and companionship in other people. I wanted to feel chosen, wanted, valued, and loved so badly that I kept looking for things outside of myself to fill what was broken within me. But it was always temporary. No matter who was around, no matter the attention, conversations, or companionship, I never truly felt whole.

    Temporary companionship and temporary pleasures always eventually left me feeling emptier than before. At some point, I would always find myself feeling less than, overlooked, or questioning my worth all over again.

    Healing forced me to slow down and really look inward. To stop trying to fill emotional emptiness with temporary things and start allowing God to heal the places in me I kept trying to avoid. Because the truth is, no person can fully heal wounds they didn’t create in the first place.

    There were days I questioned everything about myself. Days I felt emotionally exhausted from carrying pain no one fully understood. Days I searched for reassurance from people instead of resting in God’s truth about me. But somewhere along the way, God slowly began restoring the parts of me that trauma tried to destroy. Not overnight. Not instantly. But little by little.

    Bible Psalm 34:18 says:

    “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.”

    And honestly, I clung to that. Because there were moments I truly felt crushed in spirit.

    God showed me over time that all I truly needed was Him. And honestly, one of the most healing things I ever did was finally start putting myself first in healthy ways. I started loving myself. Pouring into myself. Spending time with God. Protecting my peace. Working on my healing instead of running from it.

    That is when something inside me started changing.

    I began realizing I deserved more.

    Not from a place of pride or believing I am better than anyone else, but from finally understanding the kind of love, loyalty, effort, and care I give to others. I know what I bring into relationships, and I also know now that I should not settle for anything less than what is healthy, honest, peaceful, and aligned with God.

    My standards started rising, and honestly, I find them rising all the time the more I heal and grow.

    I started realizing my worth was never tied to who stayed, who left, or who failed to see my value. My worth was always found in who God says I am.

    Healing is not linear. Some days you feel strong. Other days old emotions resurface out of nowhere. But growth is learning not to unpack and live there anymore. It’s learning to give yourself grace while continuing to move forward.

    Looking back now, I can see how God used even my pain to teach me discernment, boundaries, strength, and dependence on Him instead of people. The emptiness I once tried so hard to fill with external things slowly began being replaced with peace. Real peace.

    Not because life suddenly became perfect, but because I finally understood that healing begins when you stop chasing validation from others and start believing what God already says about you.

    Now, more than anything, I choose to chase Jesus. And if someday a man values that and is also chasing Jesus wholeheartedly too, then maybe that is exactly what I need. Not someone to complete me, because God has already been restoring that within me, but someone equally committed to growing, healing, loving well, and keeping God at the center.

    Reflection Questions

    • Have I been searching for validation in people instead of God?
    • What areas of my life still need healing?
    • Am I settling for temporary comfort because I’m afraid of being alone?
    • What would it look like to truly believe my worth comes from God?
    • How can I start pouring into myself in healthier ways?

    Closing Prayer

    God, thank You for staying with me even in the moments I felt broken, rejected, and lost. Thank You for slowly restoring the parts of me that pain tried to destroy. Help me continue healing in the areas where insecurity and emptiness still try to linger. Teach me to fully believe what You say about me instead of seeking validation from people. Give me discernment, peace, healthy boundaries, and the strength to never settle for less than what You desire for my life. Help me continue chasing You above everything else, trusting that what is meant for me will never require me to abandon myself or compromise my peace. Amen.

    —Wendy

  • Intentional Time With God

    Intentional Time With God

    By: Wendy Morris

    There’s something I’ve been thinking about lately…

    Do you actually read the Bible daily?
    Do you truly make an effort to get into the Word and allow the Holy Spirit to speak to you?

    I think we’re all guilty at times of saying we’re “too busy” or “don’t have enough time” to do it consistently — or sometimes at all.

    I know I am.

    But I’ve found that when I make it a priority, when I become intentional and disciplined about spending time with God, He always provides exactly what I need in that moment. Every single time.

    What amazes me is that I can read the same scripture or the same Bible story I’ve read many times before, and somehow the Holy Spirit reveals something completely new to me each time. How powerful is that?

    The Power of God’s Word

    “For the word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword…” — Hebrews 4:12

    “Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.” — Psalm 119:105

    We make time for so many other things in life.

    We schedule appointments we need.
    We go to our favorite sporting events.
    We make sure our kids never miss practice.
    We go to the gym faithfully.
    We watch our favorite TV shows.
    We never miss a concert.

    Yet somehow, we struggle to make time for God — our Savior, our comforter, our strength, our help in times of trouble.

    Make it make sense.

    Discipline In Fitness and Faith

    Over the last year and a half, my fitness journey has also become a spiritual journey.

    I’ve become more intentional with my walk with God because of the discipline I developed through fitness. I realized fitness and health are about so much more than losing weight, gaining muscle, or building endurance. Fitness changes your spirit and your mindset too.

    Those of you who are committed to physical fitness probably understand exactly what I mean.

    You start seeing physical changes, but you also begin to notice mental and emotional changes. Maybe it’s the quiet time during workouts that gives you space to think. Maybe it’s spending time with God while you walk, run, lift weights, or simply breathe and reflect.

    I’m not entirely sure what it is.

    But I do know this:

    If I can discipline myself to consistently go to the gym and take care of my physical body, then I can discipline myself to grow my relationship with Jesus too.

    “For physical training is of some value, but godliness has value for all things…” — 1 Timothy 4:8

    That’s what He desires from us — relationship.

    “Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you.” — James 4:8

    For a long time, I thought I already had a strong relationship with God because of all the difficult things I had survived in life. I knew Him in my pain. I knew Him in my heartbreak. I knew Him in my struggles.

    But I never realized how much deeper that relationship could become when I spent intentional time with Him — not only on my bad days or when I desperately needed help, but also on the days when life felt good.

    A Different Perspective

    Jesus has shown me a completely different perspective on life.

    Disappointments don’t hit the same when I trust that God is working all things together for my good. I find peace knowing He sees what I cannot see and protects me from things I may never fully understand.

    “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him…” — Romans 8:28

    And for that, I’m thankful.

    Even in painful seasons, He always finds a way to remind me how blessed I truly am.

    He continues to show me that He is the way, the truth, and the life. That there is purpose in everything — every season, every delay, every relationship, every lesson, every closed door, and every blessing.

    “Jesus answered, ‘I am the way and the truth and the life.’” — John 14:6

    Now, I look for His purpose in everything I do and in every person I meet.

    Don’t get me wrong — it isn’t easy.

    But it has all been worth it.

    As I look back over every season of my life, I realize I’m not the same person I used to be. I’ve become more intentional with everything: my relationships, my fitness, my work, and most importantly, my time with God.

    Does having a big heart sometimes lead to disappointment or hurt?

    Absolutely.

    But I’ve learned that the good far outweighs the bad.

    Growing Through Every Season

    “Let us not grow weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” — Galatians 6:97

    Honestly, I’m excited to see what God has for me in this season of my life.

    Each season has changed me. Strengthened me. Refined me.

    And I know He’s not finished with me yet.

    Reflection Question

    What are you consistently making time for — and where does God fit within those priorities?

    Closing Prayer

    Lord, thank You for never giving up on us, even when we become distracted, busy, or inconsistent. Help us become more intentional in our time with You. Teach us discipline not only in our physical lives, but in our spiritual lives as well. Open our hearts to hear Your voice through Your Word and allow the Holy Spirit to guide us daily. Thank You for every season, every lesson, and every blessing — even the painful ones. Continue shaping us into who You created us to be. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

    —Wendy

  • Stepping Out in Faith: Leaving What Was, Trusting What’s Ahead

    Stepping Out in Faith: Leaving What Was, Trusting What’s Ahead

    As I look around my house while packing to move, I’m surrounded by so many precious memories from the last five years. I didn’t think I would get emotional—but here I am, tears streaming down my face.

    Not because I’m sad… but because I can’t quite put into words what I’m feeling.

    There are so many mixed emotions.

    This isn’t my first time moving—in fact, I’ve moved more times than I can count. But this place… this place is different. It holds so much meaning. It’s the home where my last two children lived with me. It’s what my grandbabies know as “my house.” It’s where I finally found peace in my life with the Lord.

    And that kind of peace changes everything.

    I am excited about the next chapter of my life. I don’t know what it will bring—but that’s the beauty of it. I’m choosing to let God write the rest of my story. Because, honestly, when I try to write it myself, it always seems to fall apart one way or another.

    God has never left me—not once. But He has allowed me to make my own choices. And through those choices, I’ve learned many lessons… often the hard way.

    But even in the pain, there was purpose.

    Because every time I found myself broken, it brought me to my knees before Jesus. And in those moments, I was reminded exactly where my help comes from.

    “I lift up my eyes to the mountains—where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.” — Psalm 121:1–2

    I truly believe God has something better for me than anything I could ever imagine. So this time, I’m choosing to wait on Him—because I don’t think my heart can handle breaking again.

    “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” — Jeremiah 29:11

    Right now, I’m stepping out in complete faith.

    I haven’t even sold my house yet—but I’m moving anyway. I’m moving closer to my family, my work, my friends, and my church.

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

    I’ve been attending this church for about six months now. Some coworkers invited me, and I’m so grateful they did. I go alone every Sunday—and honestly, I’ve only missed a couple of Sunday nights and Wednesday nights.

    What I’ve found there is something special.

    I’ve met incredible people who check on me, who notice when something feels off, and who genuinely care. They will never fully know how much that means to me.

    More than that, I’ve been in God’s Word every single day—studying, learning, and growing. And when I tell you it has brought me clarity and discernment, I truly mean it.

    It’s like when I don’t know what to do, there’s this quiet voice inside me guiding me.

    I call those “God winks.”

    The Holy Spirit.

    “But when He, the Spirit of truth, comes, He will guide you into all the truth…” — John 16:13

    But we have to be willing to hear it. We have to prepare our hearts daily—not just when life gets hard.

    Think about it—would you want your children to only talk to you when they needed something or were in trouble?

    God doesn’t want that kind of relationship with us either.

    “Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you…” — James 4:8

    Being a “good person” isn’t the goal.

    Faithfulness is.

    To me, being faithful means stepping out of my comfort zone and following where the Holy Spirit leads—even when it doesn’t make sense.

    Last Sunday, during praise and worship, I felt that nudge. Before I even realized what I was doing, I was walking to the altar.

    I was alone. I only knew a few people there. And if it had been up to me, I probably wouldn’t have done it out of fear.

    But it wasn’t just me.

    “For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.” — 2 Timothy 1:7

    And that moment reminded me of something powerful—

    We can block our own blessings by living in fear.

    We stay in what’s familiar. We choose comfort. We avoid risk because we don’t want to get hurt again. But in doing that, we try to control our own lives instead of trusting God completely.

    I’ve lived that way.

    For years.

    But when I finally recognized it, everything began to change.

    “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to Him, and He will make your paths straight.” — Proverbs 3:5–6

    I’m still a work in progress. There are days I can almost hear the Holy Spirit whisper, “Stop trying to control it.”

    And I’m learning to listen.

    “Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for Him…” — Psalm 37:7

    I’m so thankful for how far I’ve come in my walk with the Lord. But even more than that—I’m excited about where I’m going.

    I’m ready.

    “Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal…” — Philippians 3:13–14

    Closing Prayer

    Heavenly Father,

    Thank You for every season—both the ones I understand and the ones I don’t. Thank You for the memories held within these walls and for the peace You gave me here. As I step into a new chapter, I trust that You are already there, preparing the way before me.

    Lord, help me to fully surrender my plans, my fears, and my need for control. Teach me to walk by faith and not by sight, even when the path feels uncertain. When I am tempted to go back to what is comfortable, remind me of the growth that comes from trusting You completely.

    Strengthen my heart so it no longer fears what could go wrong, but instead rests in the truth of who You are. When I feel weak, be my strength. When I feel unsure, be my clarity. And when I feel alone, remind me that You have never left my side.

    Holy Spirit, continue to guide me. Help me to hear Your voice clearly and to obey without hesitation. Keep my heart aligned with Your will, and let my life reflect Your love in everything I do.

    Father, I place my future in Your hands. I trust that Your plans are greater than anything I could imagine. Lead me, grow me, and use me for Your purpose.

    In Jesus’ name, Amen

    Sometimes faith looks like letting go of what we love…and trusting God with what comes next. 

    —Wendy