Tag: #internalbattle

  • 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

  • Having a Big Heart Hurts

    Having a Big Heart Hurts

    By Wendy Morris

    My best and worst trait is having a big heart.

    I’ve struggled with this for most of my life. I’m better than I used to be, but it’s still something I have to work on all the time. Because when you naturally love deeply, care deeply, and feel deeply, it can become very easy to overextend yourself for people who would never do the same for you.

    People with big hearts often give the benefit of the doubt too many times. We make excuses for people. We try to understand their pain. We stay longer than we should. We forgive quickly. And sometimes we ignore our own discernment because we want to believe the best in people.

    That kind of heart can be beautiful.

    But if it’s not balanced with wisdom and boundaries, it can also become exhausting.

    I think one of the hardest lessons I’ve had to learn is that having a good heart does not mean I have to continuously sacrifice my peace to prove I care. For a long time, I thought loving people meant always staying, always helping, always understanding, and always giving another chance.

    But healing teaches you differently.

    Healing teaches you that you can love people deeply and still choose distance. You can forgive someone and still recognize they are not healthy for your life. You can care about people without carrying the weight of their choices. And you can have compassion while still protecting your peace.

    I used to think boundaries were harsh.

    Now I see them as necessary.

    Because not everyone deserves unlimited access to your heart.

    Some people will take advantage of your kindness. Some people will drain you emotionally. Some people only show up when they need something. And some people will mistake your softness for weakness.

    But having a big heart is not weakness.

    In fact, I think it takes incredible strength to continue loving people after life has given you reasons not to. The key is learning discernment. Learning where your love is safe. Learning who truly values your presence and who only values what you provide for them emotionally.

    The older I get and the closer I grow to God, the more I realize that protecting your peace is not selfish. It’s wisdom.

    God never called us to become cold because we’ve been hurt. But He also never called us to pour endlessly into places that leave us empty, anxious, confused, or emotionally drained.

    I still have a big heart.
    I probably always will.

    But now I pray for wisdom just as much as I pray for love.

    Because a soft heart needs strong discernment.

    Maybe that’s the balance God teaches us over time:
    To stay loving without losing ourselves.
    To stay kind without tolerating dysfunction.
    To keep our hearts open while still guarding them wisely.

    Scripture

    “Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.” — Proverbs 4:23

    Reflection Question

    Have you been loving others in a healthy way, or have you been sacrificing your own peace trying to keep everyone else whole?

    Closing Prayer

    Lord, thank You for giving me a heart that loves deeply. Help me use that gift with wisdom and discernment. Teach me how to care for others without abandoning myself in the process. Show me where I need stronger boundaries and where I need greater wisdom. Protect my heart from bitterness, but also protect it from people and situations that disrupt the peace You placed within me. Help me love the way You intended — with grace, truth, and wisdom. In Jesus’ name, amen.

    Wendy

  • Spiritual Compromise: The Cost of “Just This Once”

    Spiritual Compromise: The Cost of “Just This Once”

    What does spiritual compromise really mean?

    Spiritual compromise occurs when we begin to drift from the core principles of our faith—sometimes subtly, sometimes knowingly—blending truth with what feels convenient, acceptable, or easier in the moment. It doesn’t always look like rebellion. More often, it looks like justification.

    It’s found in the quiet decisions—
    the ones no one else sees,
    the ones we convince ourselves don’t really matter.

    But they do.

    Spiritual compromise rarely starts with a dramatic fall. It begins with a small step in the wrong direction.


    Where It Begins

    It sounds like this:

    “Just this one time.”
    “No one will know.”
    “I deserve this.”
    “Everyone else is doing it.”
    “I’ll ask for forgiveness later.”

    We’ve all heard those thoughts—and at times, believed them.

    Compromise doesn’t usually arrive loudly; it whispers. It slowly reshapes our thinking until what once convicted us no longer does. What once felt wrong begins to feel normal. And before we realize it, we’ve drifted further than we ever intended.


    The Warning We Often Overlook

    In Deuteronomy 28:15, it says:

    “However, if you do not obey the Lord your God and do not carefully follow all His commands and decrees I am giving you today, all these curses will come on you and overtake you.”

    (Continue reading verses 16–68 for the full passage.)

    These words are not meant to instill fear, but to awaken awareness. Scripture reminds us that our choices carry weight—real, lasting impact that extends beyond the moment.

    Even the smallest decisions matter.


    Temporary Pleasure, Lasting Consequences

    Let’s be honest—compromise can feel good in the moment.

    It satisfies a desire.
    It fills a void.
    It offers temporary relief.

    But what it gives quickly, it often takes back slowly.

    Peace becomes disrupted.
    Conviction grows quieter.
    Distance from God becomes greater.

    What once seemed small begins to influence everything—our thoughts, our actions, our relationships, and our sense of spiritual alignment.


    The Internal Battle

    Choosing obedience over comfort is not easy.

    Some days it feels like a battle within yourself—your flesh pulling one way, your spirit urging another. In those moments, the decision you make matters more than you realize.

    Growth in faith is not about never facing temptation; it’s about recognizing it and choosing differently.


    A Call to Be Intentional

    This journey is not about perfection—it’s about awareness and intention.

    It’s about catching the moment before “just this once” becomes a pattern. It’s about recognizing when something is pulling you out of alignment and making the conscious decision to return.

    Because compromise is rarely obvious.
    Sometimes it’s subtle… until the distance is undeniable.


    Closing Reflection

    This isn’t about living in fear—it’s about living in alignment.

    A heart that pauses.
    A heart that reflects.
    A heart that chooses obedience, even when it’s difficult.

    Because temporary pleasure is never worth long-term distance from peace, purpose, and the presence of God.

    So the next time you hear that quiet thought—
    “Just this once…”

    Pause.

    And ask yourself:

    Is this leading me closer to who God is calling me to be… or further away?

    Wendy