Author: Laura Frankl Pedersen

  • Love God. Love Others. Just Love.

    Love God. Love Others. Just Love.

    When Jesus was asked what the greatest commandment was, His answer seemed almost too simple:

    Love God.
    Love others.

    That’s it. The foundation. The center. The entire heartbeat of the Christian life.

    And yet, if we are honest, loving can feel incredibly hard.

    It’s hard to love when we are tired.
    Hard to love when we feel hurt.
    Hard to love when someone misunderstands us.
    Hard to love when fear, pride, insecurity, or disappointment get in the way.

    Sometimes we think the Christian life is about trying harder, performing better, or becoming more disciplined. But over and over again, Scripture points us back to this one thing: love.

    Not just talking about love.
    Not just understanding love intellectually.
    But living it.

    Jesus said in The Gospel of John, “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”

    Love is the evidence.

    Not perfection.
    Not knowledge.
    Not appearance.
    Love.

    But here is where many of us get stuck: we cannot manufacture Godly love on our own.

    Human love has limits. It often depends on circumstances, emotions, or whether someone deserves it. God’s love is different. His love is patient when patience makes no sense. Kind when kindness feels costly. Forgiving when bitterness feels easier.

    That kind of love does not come from striving harder. It comes from abiding deeper.

    Ultimately, love is both God’s power and our participation.

    God supplies the power.
    We supply the willingness.

    The Holy Spirit produces the fruit, but we still choose whether we will surrender, obey, and participate in what God is doing within us.

    We choose whether we will:

    • pause before reacting,
    • forgive instead of keeping score,
    • listen instead of defending,
    • show compassion instead of judgment,
    • extend grace instead of control.

    Love is not passive. It is intentional participation with God.

    Sometimes we wait to “feel” loving before we act lovingly. But often, love begins as obedience long before it becomes emotion. Jesus did not say love would always feel easy; He simply commanded us to do it.

    And maybe that is why love is so transformative.

    Because every moment of genuine love requires us to die a little to ourselves and become a little more like Christ.

    The beautiful thing is that God never asks us to love apart from Him. In fact, apart from Him, we cannot truly love at all. His love flows into us so it can flow through us.

    In First John, we are reminded, “We love because He first loved us.”

    That changes everything.

    We are not striving to earn love.
    We are responding to love.

    And perhaps the Christian life is simpler than we make it.

    Love God.
    Love others.
    Just love.

    Simple to understand.
    Lifelong to live.

    But every day we choose to participate in God’s love, we become a clearer reflection of Him to the world around us.

    With love and joy,

    Laura

  • Dancing in Step: Learning to Lead, Learning to Follow

    Dancing in Step: Learning to Lead, Learning to Follow

    I grew up in a family that loved to dance. There was something beautiful about watching the rhythm, the movement, and the connection between two people moving as one. But even as a child, I learned something important—something that went far beyond the dance floor.

    In every dance, someone has to lead, and someone has to follow.

    The leader’s role is to guide—to stay in rhythm with the music, to anticipate the next step, and to gently signal where the dance is going. The follower’s role is just as important—to trust, to respond, and to move in harmony with the one leading. When both honor their roles, the result is something graceful, unified, and full of life.

    Isn’t that a lot like life?

    There are seasons when we are called to lead—to step forward with confidence, to guide others, to make decisions, and to carry responsibility. And there are seasons when we are called to follow—to trust, to listen, and to yield. Both roles require humility. Both require awareness. And both require love.

    But here’s where it becomes deeply spiritual.

    When we follow well, we honor the one who is leading.

    Scripture reminds us in Romans 12:10, “Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves.” Honor is not just about words—it’s about posture. It’s about how we position our hearts toward others. In marriage, in friendships, in leadership, and most importantly, in our relationship with God.

    In a marriage, there is a sacred dance. There are moments when one leads, and the other follows, and when done in love and mutual respect, it reflects God’s design for unity. Honoring your spouse doesn’t mean losing your voice—it means valuing their role, trusting their heart, and moving together in rhythm rather than stepping on each other’s toes.

    And then there is our relationship with God—the ultimate dance.

    God is the perfect leader. He never misses a step. He never falls out of rhythm. He sees the entire dance from beginning to end. And yet, how often do we try to take the lead? How often do we rush ahead, resist His guidance, or ignore His gentle cues?

    Following God requires trust. It requires surrender. It requires us to listen closely for His voice and respond with obedience—even when we don’t fully understand the next step.

    Psalm 32:8 says, “I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you with my loving eye on you.” What a beautiful picture of a loving Leader—one who not only directs but watches over us with care.

    When we choose to follow Him, we honor Him.

    And when we honor Him, our lives begin to move in rhythm with His purpose.

    So maybe today is an invitation.

    An invitation to pause and ask:

    • Am I trying to lead when God is asking me to follow?
    • Am I honoring those God has placed in my life?
    • Am I moving in step with His rhythm—or creating my own?

    The beauty of the dance is not in perfection—it’s in connection.

    When we trust the Leader, when we embrace our role, and when we move with humility and love, our lives become a reflection of something greater… something divine.

    So take His hand.

    Listen for His cues.

    And step into the dance.

    With love and joy,

    Laura

  • From Intellectual Truth to Spiritual Truth: The Journey of the Heart

    From Intellectual Truth to Spiritual Truth: The Journey of the Heart

    There is a quiet but profound difference between knowing something in your mind and believing it deep in your spirit.

    Many of us can recite truth. We know the scriptures. We understand the theology. We can say, “God forgives,” “I am redeemed,” and “There is no condemnation.” These truths sit clearly in our intellect—but somehow, they don’t always reach the places in our hearts where shame, regret, and self-judgment still linger.

    This is the gap between intellectual truth and spiritual truth.

    Knowing says, “God has forgiven me.”
    Believing says, “I am forgiven… fully, freely, and forever.”

    Knowing acknowledges truth.
    Believing transforms how you live.

    In Romans 8:1, we are told, “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.”

    That is not a partial truth. It’s not conditional. It’s complete.

    Yet many of us still carry condemnation—not from God, but from ourselves.

    Why?

    Because while our minds agree with God’s Word, our hearts have not yet fully received it.

    Self-forgiveness is often one of the hardest steps in the Christian walk. We replay mistakes, rehearse failures, and quietly hold ourselves accountable for things God has already released.

    But here is a truth we must allow to move from head to heart:

    If God, in His holiness, has chosen to forgive you, who are you to withhold forgiveness from yourself?

    When we refuse to forgive ourselves, we are not being humble—we are, in a subtle way, elevating our judgment above God’s grace.

    Jesus didn’t go to the cross so you could be partially free. He went so you could be completely restored.

    So how do we move from intellectual understanding to spiritual belief?

    It begins with abiding.

    Jesus says in John 15:5, “Apart from Me you can do nothing.” This includes transforming truth within us. We cannot force belief—but we can position ourselves to receive it.

    We move truth from head to heart by:

    • Sitting in God’s presence
    • Meditating on His Word
    • Speaking truth aloud, even when it feels distant
    • Allowing the Holy Spirit to gently renew our minds

    Transformation is not instant—it is relational.

    When truth becomes spiritual reality, everything changes.

    You no longer strive—you rest.
    You no longer hide—you draw near.
    You no longer carry shame—you walk in freedom.

    Forgiveness is not something you earn—it is something you receive. It is a gift from God.

    And when you truly believe you are forgiven, you begin to live differently. You extend more grace. You release perfection. You walk lighter, freer, and closer to the heart of God.

    I offer you this prayer for your journey…

    Lord,
    Help me move beyond knowing Your truth to fully believing it.
    Where I hold onto shame, gently remind me of Your grace.
    Teach me to forgive myself as You have forgiven me.
    Let Your truth take root deep in my heart until it changes how I see myself—and how I live.
    Amen.

    You are not who you were.
    You are who God says you are.

    And the moment you stop just knowing that…
    and start believing it…
    is the moment everything begins to change.

    With love and joy,

    Laura

  • By Grace Alone: The Power of Abiding

    By Grace Alone: The Power of Abiding

    My sister Sara had this By Grace Alone necklace, pictured above, and she also gifted me one. Grace is the power of God to do for us what we cannot do for ourselves.

    She wanted us both to remember that when life feels out of control, we shouldn’t try to control it. We should surrender it to God, who is in control.

    What I have found is that the harder I try to control a situation, the more anxiety and fear control me. But when I let go and let God control the outcomes, I feel His perfect peace.

    If grace is the foundation of our faith, then abiding is the way we live it out.

    When Jesus says in John 15:5, “…without Me you can do nothing,” He doesn’t leave us there in helplessness—He immediately invites us into something deeper: “Abide in Me, and I in you.” This is not a command rooted in pressure, but an invitation rooted in relationship.

    To abide means to remain, to stay, to dwell.

    It’s not a striving word—it’s a staying word.

    So often, we approach our walk with God like a performance. We try harder, do more, fix ourselves, prove our devotion. But abiding shifts the focus entirely. It calls us away from self-effort and into constant connection.

    Think about a branch on a vine. The branch doesn’t strain to produce fruit. It doesn’t wake up each day determined to be more fruitful. It simply stays connected. Everything it needs flows from the vine—nutrients, strength, life itself.

    Jesus is reminding us: You are the branch. I am the source.

    Abiding is choosing connection over control.

    It looks like:

    • Turning your thoughts back to God throughout the day
    • Sitting with His Word, not just to check a box, but to hear His voice
    • Praying honestly, not perfectly
    • Surrendering your worries instead of trying to manage everything on your own
    • Trusting Him in the in-between, not just in the breakthrough

    Abiding is less about a moment and more about a posture.

    It’s waking up aware that you need Him.
    It’s walking through your day dependent on Him.
    It’s ending your day resting in Him.

    And here’s the beautiful truth: abiding is where grace becomes tangible.

    When you abide, you begin to experience the very power of God working in you—doing what you could never do on your own. That patience you didn’t have? It grows. That peace that made no sense? It settles in. That strength when you felt weak? It shows up.

    Not because you manufactured it—but because you remained connected to the One who supplies it.

    Abiding also means trusting that God is at work even when you don’t feel it.

    A branch doesn’t see the inner workings of the vine, but growth is still happening. In the same way, there are seasons where God feels quiet, distant, or unseen. But abiding says, “I will stay anyway. I will trust that You are still moving, still shaping, still providing.”

    This is where many people struggle—not in starting with God, but in staying with Him.

    But abiding is not about perfection; it’s about returning.

    Every time your mind wanders—come back.
    Every time you feel distant—draw near again.
    Every time you try to take control—release it back to Him.

    Grace makes abiding possible, and abiding keeps us positioned to receive grace.

    So instead of asking, “What more do I need to do?”
    Maybe the better question is, “Where do I need to stay?”

    Stay connected.
    Stay surrendered.
    Stay aware of His presence.

    Because by grace alone, you are sustained—and through abiding, you experience it every single day.

    With love and joy,

    Laura

  • Persistence in Prayer: When You Won’t Let Go

    Persistence in Prayer: When You Won’t Let Go

    There is a kind of prayer that is polite… and then there is the kind of prayer that wrestles.

    The prayers that often change us—and sometimes even our circumstances—are not the casual, passing words we whisper in comfort. They are the persistent, unrelenting cries of a heart that refuses to let go of God. Many of the blessings we experience in this life come from that kind of prayer. It is a prayer that presses in, endures, and wrestles through the silence.

    In Scripture, we see this vividly in the story of Jacob. In Genesis 32, Jacob wrestles with God throughout the night. He declares, “I will not let you go unless you bless me.” This is not a passive faith. This is a desperate, determined, fully engaged trust.

    Jacob walked away limping—but he also walked away changed and blessed.

    Sometimes we want the blessing without the wrestling. But often, God does His deepest work in us through the wrestling.

    Does God Test Us?

    It’s a hard question, but an honest one: Does God test us?

    Scripture shows us that at times, God allows testing—not to harm us, but to reveal and refine us. The waiting, the wrestling, the persistence—it all has purpose. It purifies our motives, strengthens our faith, and draws us closer to Him.

    The question becomes: How badly do we want what we’re asking for? More importantly, how much do we trust the One we’re asking?

    There is Purpose in the Waiting.

    Waiting is not wasted.

    In the waiting:

    • Our faith is stretched
    • Our dependence deepens
    • Our hearts are refined

    When answers don’t come quickly, we have to make a decision.
    Do we trust God, or do we take control and follow our own path?

    Persistence in prayer is not about convincing God to act—it’s about anchoring ourselves in Him when we don’t understand.

    There comes a point in life where prayers become raw. Honest. Desperate.

    You run out of polished words. You run out of plans. You run out of options.

    And in that place, something powerful happens.

    As Charles Spurgeon once expressed, there are moments when we are so desperate. We can barely form words. We can only groan before God. Yet even there, we are not failing in prayer… we are growing in it.

    This kind of prayer says:
    “God, there is nowhere else for me to go. You are my only hope.”

    Persistence doesn’t mean you always feel strong.

    Sometimes persistence looks like:

    • Praying through tears
    • Trusting while doubting
    • Showing up before God when you feel nothing

    It is choosing to press on, even when everything in you wants to give up.

    It is declaring, “Even here… I will seek Him.”

    What Is Effective Prayer?

    Martin Luther described effective prayer as something deeply rooted in honesty and faith. It is a prayer that holds tightly to God’s promises. It brings our real, unfiltered hearts before Him.

    Effective prayer is not about eloquence.
    It is about earnestness.

    It is prayer that:

    • Clings to God’s Word
    • Refuses to give up
    • Believes, even when it cannot see

    How Long Will You Persist?

    This is the question that lingers:

    How long will you persist in prayer before you give up?

    Will you stop when the answer delays?
    When the silence stretches?
    When the path forward disappears?

    Or will you wrestle… and hold on?

    Because sometimes, the most powerful prayers come when:

    • You have no plan
    • No backup
    • No strength left

    Only God.

    And maybe that’s the point all along.

    If you find yourself in a season where you are praying and nothing seems to be moving—don’t stop.

    There is purpose in your persistence.
    There is refining in your waiting.
    There is transformation in your wrestling.

    Hold on. Keep praying. Keep trusting.

    And like Jacob, may you be able to say:
    “I will not let go… until You bless me.”

    With love and joy,

    Laura