Tag: Chrisitianblog

  • 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

    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

    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

  • My Truth vs. God’s Truth

    Who Is Writing Your Story?

    In today’s culture, we hear the phrase “my truth” everywhere. It’s often used as a way to validate personal experiences, emotions, and perspectives. While our experiences matter, there’s a deeper question we must ask as believers: Is my truth aligned with God’s truth?

    Because there is a difference.

    “My truth” is often shaped by our experiences. Our wounds, disappointments, and insecurities influence it. It is also shaped by the lies we’ve unknowingly agreed with. Over time, those lies can become so familiar that they begin to feel like truth. Thoughts like “I’m not enough,” “I’ll never change,” “This is just who I am,” can quietly take root. They begin to define the story we believe about our lives.

    But just because something feels true doesn’t mean it is true.

    God’s truth is not based on our circumstances or emotions—it is anchored in His unchanging Word. And His Word tells a different story. It speaks of identity, purpose, redemption, and freedom. Jesus said in John 8:32,

    “Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”

    Freedom comes not from embracing “my truth,” but from surrendering to His truth.

    The danger of living by “my truth” is that it can keep us stuck. If the narrative we believe is rooted in fear, shame, or defeat, then our decisions will follow that same pattern. We will unknowingly build a life around a false foundation.

    If you believe you are unworthy, you’ll shrink back from opportunities God is calling you into.

    If you believe you are broken beyond repair, you’ll resist the healing God is offering.

    If you believe your past defines you, you’ll struggle to step into your future.

    When we are stuck in the lies of our story, we cannot fully walk in God’s purpose for our lives.

    Here’s a powerful truth: Someone is always shaping the narrative of your life.

    The enemy wants to be the editor of your story. They highlight your failures. They replay your mistakes. They whisper lies that keep you bound.

    But God…

    God is the true Author and Editor of your life. He doesn’t erase your story—He redeems it. He takes every broken chapter and rewrites it with purpose, grace, and hope.

    You were never meant to live a life edited by fear.
    You were created to live a life authored by truth.

    There is a tension between two truths.

    There is a real tension we all experience:

    • What I feel vs. what I know
    • What I was vs. what I am becoming
    • What I see vs. what God says

    Feelings are real, but they are not always reliable. Faith grows in the space between those tensions. It’s in choosing to believe God’s truth even when it contradicts what we feel in the moment.

    Faith says:
    “I may feel anxious, but God says I have peace.”
    “I may feel unqualified, but God says I am chosen.”
    “I may remember who I was, but God is showing me who I am becoming.”

    This tension isn’t something to avoid—it’s where transformation happens.

    Choosing God’s truth is a daily decision. It means renewing your mind, aligning your thoughts with His Word, and rejecting the lies that try to take root.

    It looks like:

    • Speaking Scripture over your life instead of rehearsing negative thoughts
    • Pausing to ask, “Is this what God says about me?”
    • Letting truth reshape your identity, not your past

    God’s truth leads to freedom. It leads to clarity. It leads to purpose.

    You don’t have to stay stuck in a story that was never meant to define you.

    The truth of God is greater than any lie you’ve believed.
    His voice is louder than the enemy’s whispers—if you choose to listen.
    And His plans for you are still unfolding, no matter where you’ve been.

    So today, ask yourself:

    Whose truth am I living by?
    And who is holding the pen to my story?

    Let God be the editor of your life.
    Let His truth rewrite your narrative.
    Because when you walk in His truth—that’s where freedom begins.

    With love and joy,

    Laura

  • Choosing Joy Does Not Negate Sadness

    Finding God’s presence in both tears and praise

    There is a misunderstanding that often slips into Christian life—the belief that if we are truly choosing joy, we should not feel sadness. We may think that joy means smiling through everything, staying positive no matter what, and never letting grief show. But that is not the kind of joy God invites us into.

    Choosing joy does not mean denying pain.
    Choosing joy means inviting God into it.

    Joy and sorrow can exist at the same time.

    This is a misconception I struggled with for years after beginning my Choose Joy Adventure. I held the burden of swallowing my sadness when others were around. If I were going to be the “face of choose joy,” I couldn’t let others see me sad. Showing sadness would make me a hypocrite…so I thought.

    Scripture never tells us that following Christ removes sadness. In fact, the Bible is full of people who loved God deeply and still wept, mourned, and wrestled with heavy emotions.

    Jesus Himself felt sorrow.

    “Jesus wept.” — John 11:35

    In that moment, Jesus knew He was about to raise Lazarus from the dead, yet He still cried. His tears were not a lack of faith. They were love. They were compassion. They were proof that holiness does not remove human emotion.

    Joy is not the absence of sadness.
    Joy is the presence of God in the middle of sadness.

    Choosing joy means choosing truth over denial.

    Sometimes we think choosing joy means saying,
    “I’m fine.”
    “It’s all good.”
    “It doesn’t hurt.”

    But real joy is not pretending.
    Real joy is trusting.

    Joy says:
    This hurts… but God is still good.
    I don’t understand… but God is still with me.
    I feel broken… but I am not abandoned.

    “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.” — Psalm 30:5

    Notice the verse does not say weeping never comes.
    It says weeping has a season, but it does not have the final word.

    God never asks us to choose joy by ignoring our hearts.

    God created our emotions.
    He is not afraid of them.

    The Psalms are filled with cries of confusion, fear, anger, and grief. Yet they are also filled with praise. The same person can write both in the same prayer. That is the life of faith.

    Choosing joy is not pushing sadness away.
    It is bringing sadness to God instead of carrying it alone.

    “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” — Psalm 34:18

    If broken hearts kept us from joy, God would not come near to them. But the opposite is true — He comes closer.

    Joy is a decision of the soul, not a feeling of the moment.

    Feelings change.
    Circumstances change.
    Seasons change.

    Joy is deeper than all of those.

    Joy is the quiet confidence that God is still working, even when life feels heavy.

    You can choose joy while crying.
    You can choose joy while healing.
    You can choose joy while waiting.
    You can choose joy while grieving.

    Because joy is not saying,
    “This doesn’t hurt.”

    Joy is saying,
    “This hurts, but God is still faithful.”

    Choosing joy means trusting that sadness is not wasted.

    God never wastes tears.
    He never ignores pain.
    He never walks away from a hurting heart.

    Sometimes the very place where we feel the most sadness becomes the place where we experience the deepest peace, because that is where we learn to lean on Him.

    Joy grows in places where we thought only sorrow could live.

    “Those who sow with tears will reap with songs of joy.” — Psalm 126:5

    Tears are not the opposite of joy.
    Sometimes they are the soil where joy begins.

    If your heart feels heavy right now, you are not failing at choosing joy. You are human. And God is right there with you.

    Choosing joy does not mean you stop feeling sadness.
    It means sadness does not get to decide your hope.

    Joy is not the denial of pain.
    Joy is the decision to trust God in the middle of it.

    Praying for each of you to find joy today…even in the sadness.

    With love and joy,

    Laura