Grow in Grace

Tag: #faith

  • When You Just Want to Throw Your Hands Up

    When You Just Want to Throw Your Hands Up

    By: Wendy Morris

    Do you ever just want to throw your hands up and walk away from everything?

    Because I do.

    And if I’m going to write honestly about growing in grace, then I have to write about these days too.

    I don’t always have it together.

    I don’t always respond the right way. I don’t always know what God is doing. Sometimes I overthink things I’ve already prayed about. Sometimes I get overwhelmed by responsibilities that normally wouldn’t bother me. Sometimes I’m tired of making decisions, tired of figuring things out, and tired of wondering what I’m supposed to do next.

    And sometimes I just want to say,

    “Lord, I don’t want to deal with any of it today.”

    That’s not the polished version of faith.

    But it’s the real one.

    Faith Doesn’t Mean I Never Struggle

    I’ve written a lot about trusting God, surrendering, healing, waiting, and obedience.

    And I believe every word of it.

    But believing something doesn’t mean I live it out perfectly every day.

    I can write about surrender on Monday and find myself trying to control everything again by Thursday.

    I can know that God has been faithful and still worry about something I can’t see.

    I can tell myself to be still and somehow have seventeen conversations happening inside my head five minutes later.

    I’m still growing too.

    Maybe that’s part of what grace is.

    God doesn’t require me to have everything figured out before I come to Him.

    He simply asks me to come.

    “Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.” — 1 Peter 5:7

    Sometimes I Don’t Want Another Lesson

    Have you ever thought, “Lord, I know You’re teaching me something, but could we skip the lesson today?”

    I have.

    Sometimes I don’t want another opportunity to practice patience.

    I don’t want another decision.

    I don’t want another situation requiring discernment.

    I don’t want to figure out the deeper meaning.

    I just want things to be easy for a minute.

    And then I’m reminded that I can tell God that too.

    Prayer doesn’t have to sound beautiful.

    Sometimes prayer is simply:

    “God, I’m tired.”

    “God, I’m frustrated.”

    “God, I don’t know what to do.”

    “God, help me.”

    Those are prayers too.

    Maybe Throwing My Hands Up Isn’t the Problem

    I’ve been thinking about that.

    Maybe there are two ways to throw my hands up.

    One says:

    “I’m done.”

    The other says:

    “God, I can’t carry this anymore. You take it.”

    Same hands.

    Completely different posture.

    One is defeat.

    The other is surrender.

    And maybe sometimes I have to reach the end of myself before I remember that I was never supposed to do everything in my own strength anyway.

    I Am Still Growing in Grace

    Maybe that’s why the words Growing in Grace mean so much to me.

    Growing means I haven’t arrived.

    There are things God has taught me that I still have to relearn.

    There are things I’ve surrendered that I’ve picked back up.

    There are days when my faith feels strong and days when my prayer is simply,

    “Jesus, help me get through today.”

    I don’t want to write as though I have mastered any of this.

    I haven’t.

    I’m walking it out just like everyone else.

    I’m learning.

    I’m stumbling.

    I’m praying.

    I’m surrendering.

    I’m picking things back up and having to surrender them again.

    And through all of it, God keeps meeting me with grace.

    So today, if you feel like throwing your hands up, you’re not alone.

    I’m right there with you.

    Maybe instead of walking away, we can turn those raised hands into surrender and say:

    “Lord, I don’t have this all together. But I know You do. Help me trust You with today.”

    And maybe today, that’s enough.

    Reflection Questions

    • Is there something you’re exhausted from trying to handle on your own?
    • Do you allow yourself to be honest with God when you’re frustrated or overwhelmed?
    • What have you surrendered to God before but found yourself trying to control again?
    • What would it look like to trust Him with just today?

    Prayer

    Father,

    I don’t have it all together.

    Some days I trust easily, and other days I struggle. Sometimes I surrender things to You and then pick them right back up.

    Thank You for meeting me with grace anyway.

    Today I’m tired of trying to figure everything out. I’m giving You the things I can’t control, the questions I can’t answer, and the burdens I’ve been carrying.

    Give me wisdom for what I need to do and peace about what I need to leave with You.

    I don’t need to understand everything today.

    I just need to stay close to You.

    In Jesus’ name, amen.

    —Wendy

  • The Story Behind The Peace I Fought For

    The Story Behind The Peace I Fought For

    By: Wendy Morris

    When God Turns Pain Into Purpose

    I never imagined that I would one day put some of the most painful parts of my life into a book.

    For years, those experiences remained tucked away in my heart, written between the pages of journals, and spoken only in quiet conversations with God. There were parts of my story that very few people knew. I had survived them, but sharing them was something entirely different.

    Writing The Peace I Fought For: My Testimony of Faith, Discernment, and Letting Go required me to revisit seasons I thought I had already put behind me. It meant remembering the heartbreak, confusion, betrayal, fear, and grief. But it also gave me the opportunity to look back and recognize something even greater: God had been with me through every single moment.

    What once felt like something I needed to hide eventually became a testimony I felt called to share.

    I had actually started writing a book several times before, but each attempt seemed to lead me back toward resentment, bitterness, and unforgiveness. The words may have told what happened, but my heart was not yet ready to tell the story in the way God intended. There were still places inside me that needed His healing.

    Then something changed.

    When I finally sat down to write this book, I realized those feelings no longer had the hold on me that they once did. I was not writing from bitterness or from a desire to make anyone understand what I had endured. I was able to look back with different eyes and recognize how completely God had changed me—my heart, my soul, my whole outlook on life, and even my understanding of what truly matters.

    That was when I knew I was ready. The facts of my story had not changed, but the heart telling it had.

    Obedience Often Begins With Fear

    I wish I could say that I wrote this book without hesitation, but that would not be true. I was afraid.

    I wondered what people would think. I questioned whether I was sharing too much. I worried about being misunderstood, and I felt vulnerable knowing that people would be reading about experiences that had once brought me so much pain.

    But God kept placing the story on my heart.

    I have learned that obedience does not always feel comfortable. Sometimes God asks us to step forward while our hands are still trembling. Courage is not the absence of fear; sometimes courage is simply choosing to obey God even while fear is present.

    > “For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.” — 2 Timothy 1:7 (KJV)

    Every time I have faced fear and remained obedient to God, something has changed inside me. There is freedom on the other side of obedience. There is confidence—not confidence in my own ability, but confidence that God will meet me wherever He leads me.

    Submitting this book for publication was one of those moments.

    This Is Not a Story About Having It All Figured Out

    I did not write this book because I have everything figured out. I did not write it because healing made my life perfect or erased every difficult memory.

    I wrote it because I am not the woman I once was.

    God has changed me spiritually, mentally, and physically. He has taught me about discernment, boundaries, forgiveness, obedience, and the difficult but necessary work of letting go. He showed me that forgiveness does not require returning to what harmed me. He taught me that protecting my peace is not selfish and that being equally yoked is not merely a suggestion—it matters.

    Most importantly, He taught me that peace does not come from controlling the outcome. True peace comes from trusting Him with it.

    > “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.” — Proverbs 3:5–6 (KJV)

    There were times when I could not understand what God was doing. Looking back, I can see that He was rebuilding me even when I thought I was simply trying to survive.

    God Did Not Waste My Pain

    Pain can make us feel as though part of our life has been stolen. We may look back at the years and wonder what could have been different. But I now believe that when we place our broken pieces in God’s hands, He does not waste any of them.

    He can use our pain to deepen our compassion. He can use our disappointments to sharpen our discernment. He can use what nearly broke us to help someone else believe that they can make it too.

    That does not mean the pain was good. It means God is good enough to redeem it.

    > “He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds.” — Psalm 147:3 (KJV)

    My story is not only about what happened to me. It is about what God did within me. It is a story of learning to release what I could not change, surrender what I could not carry, and trust God with the life still ahead of me.

    Why I Chose to Share It

    I shared my testimony because I know there is another woman somewhere wondering whether she will ever feel whole again.

    She may be living with heartbreak, betrayal, or the effects of addiction within her family. She may be questioning her worth, struggling to establish boundaries, or holding onto something God has been asking her to release. She may appear strong to everyone around her while privately asking God how much longer she can keep going.

    I want her to know that this season is not the end of her story.

    Healing may not happen overnight. It can be slow, painful, and deeply personal. But God is present in the process. He is able to bring beauty from ashes, purpose from pain, and peace from places that once held only confusion.

    If even one person reads my story and realizes that she is not alone, then every vulnerable moment involved in writing it was worth it.

    A New Beginning

    Seeing my book published felt like more than completing a project. It felt like a new beginning.

    For so long, I wondered whether this day would ever come. I wanted it, but I was scared. Yet God has a way of bringing us out of our comfort zones and reminding us that His plans are bigger than our fear.

    I could never have done this without Him.

    The Peace I Fought For is now available in Kindle and paperback formats on Amazon. If you are walking through a difficult season—or if you love someone who is—I pray this book reminds you that God is still working, even when you cannot yet see how the story will end.

    This is my testimony of faith, discernment, healing, and letting go.

    But above everything else, it is a testimony of a faithful God.

    Purchase The Peace I Fought For on Amazon

    Reflection Questions

    1. Is there a painful part of your story that God may be redeeming?

    2. Has fear been keeping you from something God has placed on your heart?

    3. What are you trying to control that you need to surrender to Him?

    4. How has God used a difficult season to change or strengthen you?

    Closing Prayer

    Heavenly Father,

    Thank You for never wasting our pain. Thank You for staying close to us during the seasons when we feel broken, afraid, or uncertain. Give us the courage to obey You even when the next step feels uncomfortable. Help us release what we cannot control and trust You with every unfinished part of our story.

    Use our experiences for Your glory. Bring healing where there is hurt, wisdom where there is confusion, and peace where there has been fear. Remind the person reading this that she is not alone, her life still has purpose, and You are not finished with her yet.

    In Jesus’ name, amen.

    —Wendy

  • 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

  • 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

  • Grace for the Days I Fall Short

    Grace for the Days I Fall Short

    By: Wendy Morris

    When I finally learned to be by myself and not feel the need to have someone in my life just because I was lonely, it released a stronghold from my life that I can’t even fully explain.

    For so long, I thought companionship was the answer to the emptiness I felt. I searched for comfort in people, conversations, attention, and temporary connections — anything to avoid feeling alone. But loneliness will make you settle for things God never intended for you.

    I had to learn that being alone and being lonely are not the same thing.

    God began showing me that I was constantly trying to fill places in my heart that only He could heal. I wanted reassurance. Comfort. Validation. Companionship. And while none of those things are inherently wrong, they become dangerous when we depend on people more than we depend on God.

    The moment I became okay sitting alone with God, healing, growing, and learning who I was outside of needing validation from others, something shifted inside of me. The fear of being alone started breaking. The desperation faded. The constant need for reassurance faded. And peace finally began taking its place.

    I realized I wasn’t actually craving people as much as I was craving wholeness.

    Galatians 5:1 says,

    “It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.”

    And John 8:36 says,

    “So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.”

    Sometimes the strongest chains are not visible addictions. Sometimes they are emotional dependencies, fear of loneliness, unhealthy attachments, and believing we need someone beside us to feel complete.

    But God will sometimes allow seasons of solitude to heal what constant companionship was covering up.

    At one point in my life, I could not imagine being alone. I thought silence meant emptiness. I thought if I wasn’t connected to someone emotionally, then something was missing in me. But healing taught me otherwise.

    Healing taught me how to sit with myself.

    To face my wounds.

    To stop running from my pain.

    To stop looking for temporary comfort to cover permanent issues.

    To stop abandoning myself just to avoid loneliness.

    And through that process, I began learning how to love myself the way Jesus does.

    I couldn’t even love others the way Jesus does until I learned to love myself the way He does.

    For years, I poured into everyone else while neglecting myself. I confused self-sacrifice with self-abandonment. I accepted less than I deserved because deep down I didn’t fully understand my value yet. But Jesus never called us to destroy ourselves trying to keep others comfortable.

    Matthew 22:39 says,

    “Love your neighbor as yourself.”

    Psalms 139:14 says,

    “I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made.”

    The more time I spent with God, the more I realized His love restores identity. It restores dignity. It teaches you that you can love people deeply while still having wisdom, boundaries, and discernment.

    Don’t get me wrong though — I’m tempted daily by the world. I won’t lie and pretend it isn’t hard. Some days my flesh is loud. Some days my emotions get the best of me. Some days loneliness tries to creep back in. Some days I struggle with wanting temporary comfort instead of waiting on what God has for me.

    And some days, I fail.

    But praise God for His grace and mercy.

    I’m thankful I don’t have to stay stuck in my failures, shame, or weakness. Every single day is another opportunity to repent, realign my heart, and keep pressing toward Him. That is the beauty of God’s love — He corrects, restores, and keeps calling us closer instead of casting us away.

    Lamentations 3:22-23 says,

    “Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your

    Reflection Questions:

    1. Am I seeking temporary comfort from people instead of true healing from God?
    2. What areas of my life reveal a fear of being alone?
    3. Have I confused loving others with abandoning myself?
    4. What strongholds or unhealthy attachments might God be trying to break in my life?
    5. Do I truly believe I am worthy of love because of who God says I am?
    6. In what ways have I grown emotionally, spiritually, or mentally over the last year?
    7. What does pressing toward God look like for me in this current season?
    8. Am I allowing shame from my failures to keep me stuck instead of receiving God’s grace and mercy?
    9. What boundaries do I need to create to protect my peace and healing?
    10. How can I intentionally spend more time with God instead of seeking validation from the world?
  • When Faith Is Strong but Your Heart Is Still Scared

    When Faith Is Strong but Your Heart Is Still Scared

    By: Wendy Morris

    There are moments in life where your faith can be strong, yet your heart still hurts.

    I think sometimes people assume that if you truly trust God, you will never feel fear, sadness, frustration, or exhaustion. But that simply is not true. We are human. We carry emotions, uncertainty, and the weight of difficult seasons while still believing God is good.

    Right now, I am in a waiting season in more ways than one.

    And waiting is hard.

    As a nurse, my mind naturally goes to the worst possible scenarios. After years of taking care of people in some of the hardest moments of their lives, it becomes difficult not to think through every outcome. My mind wants answers immediately. It wants certainty. It wants relief before the process is even over.

    But faith does not always work that way.

    Sometimes faith means waiting.

    Sometimes faith means trusting God before you have answers.

    And if I am being completely honest, it hurts processing some of this alone.

    There are moments I want to scream, cry, get angry, and just let every emotion pour out of me. Moments where my heart feels exhausted from carrying the unknown. Moments where I wish someone could simply sit beside me while my heart feels heavy.

    Because sometimes you do not need advice.
    Sometimes you just need comfort.
    A hug.
    A conversation.
    Someone willing to sit with you in silence while you process what you are carrying.

    But even in those moments, I hear that still, small voice reminding me:

    Remember the peace you have now that you once begged God for.

    Remember when you lost yourself trying to save and love everyone else, and now you finally know your worth.

    Remember when you did not know how you were going to pay your bills, and now God has sustained you and allowed you to support yourself for years on your own.

    Remember when you raised three children basically alone, and they grew into good, independent adults.

    Remember the moments you thought you could not survive another day, yet somehow God gave you strength to keep going.

    Remember how much you have grown spiritually.

    Remember the relationship with God that changed your entire life.

    Remember when you used to care so deeply about what people thought of you, and now your greatest desire is simply to please God.

    And through every season, every heartbreak, every struggle, and every unknown… God has never failed you.

    Not once.

    Psalm 121:1-2 says:

    “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.”

    Even now, while waiting on a procedure that could either change my entire world or bring relief, I know where my help comes from.

    But I would be lying if I said it does not scare me.

    Being a nurse is not easy when you suddenly find yourself on the patient side of things. Knowing too much can sometimes become its own burden. You understand the possibilities. You understand the paths certain outcomes could lead to. And while knowledge can be helpful, it can also make fear louder.

    That is why I have to remind myself daily whose voice I am listening to.

    Because the enemy speaks in confusion, fear, lies, anxiety, and uncertainty.

    But God speaks peace.

    2 Timothy 1:7 says:

    “For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.”

    The enemy wants us isolated in fear.
    God calls us back to truth.

    So when fear tries to creep in, I speak the name of Jesus.

    I get in the Word.

    I remind myself that no matter what happens, God will still be God tomorrow just like He is today.

    He has carried me through every hard season before this one, and He will carry me through this too.

    John 14:27 says:

    “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.”

    Maybe that is what faith really looks like sometimes.

    Not pretending you are not scared.
    Not pretending everything feels okay.

    But choosing to trust God anyway.

    Choosing to keep showing up.

    Choosing to keep believing even while your hands tremble.

    And maybe someone else needs to hear this today too:

    You are allowed to feel.
    You are allowed to be tired.
    You are allowed to admit this season is hard.

    But do not forget everything God has already brought you through.

    The same God who carried you then is carrying you now.

    Reflection Questions:

    1. Am I listening to fear or to God’s truth in this season?
    2. Where have I already seen God’s faithfulness in my life?
    3. What am I trying to carry alone that I need to surrender to God?
    4. How has this season strengthened me spiritually?
    5. What does choosing faith over fear look like for me today?

    Closing Prayer

    Lord,
    Thank You for being my peace in the middle of uncertainty. Even when fear tries to creep in and my mind feels overwhelmed, remind me that You are still in control. Help me to trust You in the waiting, even when I do not have answers yet.

    Strengthen my heart when I feel tired. Calm my mind when fear grows loud. Remind me of every season You have already carried me through and help me never forget Your faithfulness.

    Teach me to listen to Your voice over fear, confusion, and doubt. Fill me with peace that only You can give. And no matter what lies ahead, help me continue walking by faith and not by fear.

    Thank You for never leaving me, never failing me, and never letting go of me.

    In Jesus’ name,
    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