Grow in Grace

Tag: #strength

  • 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

  • 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 

  • Peace Isn’t Control

    There was a time when I thought I had peace—but what I really had was control.

    I felt calm as long as everything was going right

    As long as people acted the way I expected.

    As long as doors stayed open.

    As long as plans didn’t shift.

    But the moment something changed, my “peace” disappeared.

    And that’s when I realized something:

    If my peace depends on everything in my life going right, then it isn’t peace—it’s control.

    Control says, “ I’m okay as long as nothing moves.”

    Peace says, “Even if everything moves, I am still anchored.”

    Control needs outcomes to cooperate.

    Peace trusts God even when they don’t.

    The kind of peace God offers us is not circumstantial. It doesn’t rise and fall with relationships, finances, health reports, or unanswered prayers. It’s rooted in Him.

    Philippians 4:7 says. “ And the peace of God surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”

    Notice it says surpasses understanding.

    That means it doesn’t always make sense.

    It won’t always match your situation.

    You can be grieving and still have peace.

    You can be uncertain and still have peace.

    You can be waiting and still have peace.

    Because real peace is not the absence of problems—it’s the presence of trust.

    Sometimes we call it “peace,” but what we really mean is, “Everything is going my way.” And when it stops going my way, anxiety rushes in because control has slipped through our fingers.

    But surrender feels different.

    Surrender says:

    “God I don’t need to manage every outcome. I trust you with what I can’t see.”

    And this is where peace lives.

    It lives in letting go.

    It lives in releasing the need to orchestrate every detail.

    It lives in believing that even when things fall apart, God is not out of control.

    True peace doesn’t require a perfect life.

    It requires a surrendered heart.

    Reflection Questions:

    1. In what areas of my life have I mistaken control for peace?
    2. When something doesn’t go according to plan, how do you usually respond—with trust or with anxiety?
    3. What situation am I currently trying to manage instead of surrendering to God?
    4. Do I believe God is good even when the outcomes don’t look the way I hoped?
    5. What would it look like to fully release control and trust Him today?

    Closing Prayer:

    Father God,

    I confess that sometimes what I call peace is really just control. I feel calm when everything is going my way, but unsettled when it isn’t. Forgive me for trying to manage what was never mine to carry.

    Teach me what real peace looks like.

    Help me trust You when plans change, when doors close, and when outcomes don’t match my expectations. Remind me that You are steady, even when my life feels uncertain.

    I release the need to control every detail.

    I release the fear of the unknown.

    I release the pressure to hold everything together.

    Guard my heart and mind with Your peace — the kind that doesn’t make sense, the kind that doesn’t depend on circumstances, the kind that only comes from You.

    Anchor me in trust.

    Anchor me in surrender.

    Anchor me in You.

    In Jesus’ name,

    Amen

    —Wendy

  • When God’s Delays Become Divine

    When God’s Delays Become Divine

    There was a season in my life when I felt deeply stuck—like every door was closed, every opportunity delayed. I kept wondering, why is God holding me back? I saw others moving forward, while I stood still.

    But as time passed, I began to see something different. What felt like a delay was actually preparation. God was shaping me. He was protecting me from relationships and paths that weren’t right for me. He was teaching me patience, trust, and surrender.

    Looking back, I realize God’s delays weren’t denials; they were divine detours, guiding me toward something better. I can see now that none of those relationships were equally yoked. I had heard that phrase my whole life, but it took heartbreak to understand it deeply. Now, I know I can never settle for less.

    I will not settle—no matter how tempting, no matter how perfect it may seem on the surface. I will not settle for anything less than being equally yoked—where both of us pursue God, where there is true reciprocation, and where our faith leads us. I know it’s hard these days—especially with social media, where people aren’t always real, and it’s easy to get caught up in illusions. But I will stay grounded, seeking authenticity and God’s truth.

    As Ecclesiastes 4:12 says, “A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.” So, I trust that God is weaving my story, and when the right person comes, we’ll stand strong—three strands, with God at the center.

    -Wendy

  • Companionship, Stewardship, and the Cost of Settling

    Companionship, Stewardship, and the Cost of Settling

    We all want companionship. It’s a natural desire—to be seen, known, and loved. But the real question isn’t if we want connection…..it’s at what cost?

    I’ve had opportunities to go out with people but I’ve learned I’m not someone who can casually date just to pass time. I don’t want to give someone the wrong impression or lead them to believe I want something more when I don’t. That wouldn’t be fair to them—or to myself.

    This is where stewardship comes in.

    Stewardship isn’t just about money. It’s about how we care for our time, our hearts, our energy, and our purpose. It’s about being intentional with what God has entrusted to us—including relationships. When we treat connection casually , we often end up carrying emotional weight that was never meant for us to hold.

    Companionship should never come at the cost of our peace, our values, or our obedience to God.

    I’ve realized that being alone for a season is not a punishment—it’s protection. It’s space for healing. It’s room for growth. And it’s an opportunity to deepen my walk with God with distraction. Loneliness may knock, but I refuse to answer it with compromise. I have stumbled in this at times, but it’s truly the desire of my heart.

    There’s a difference between being open and being available.

    There’s a difference between companionship and convenience.

    I’m choosing to steward my heart well. I’m choosing clarity over comfort, obedience over options, and peace over pressure. I don’t want temporary connection that costs me long-term wholeness.

    Because the right companionship will never require me to abandon myself—or my faith—to belong.

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