Tag: faith

  • Choosing Joy Does Not Negate Sadness

    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

  • Even a Donkey Has a Purpose

    Even a Donkey Has a Purpose

    As we prepare our hearts for Easter, we often focus on the cross, the empty tomb, and the overwhelming victory of Jesus. But tucked into the beginning of this story is a quiet, humble reminder: God uses everything for His purpose… even a donkey.

    In the days leading up to the crucifixion, Jesus sends His disciples to find a colt—a young donkey that had never been ridden (Luke 19:30–35). This wasn’t random. This wasn’t convenience. This was intentional.

    It was prophecy being fulfilled.

    Zechariah 9:9 declared that the King would come “gentle and riding on a donkey.” Not a war horse. Not a chariot. A donkey.

    Why?

    Because God’s ways are not our ways.

    God Uses the Humble, Not Just the Strong.

    A donkey is not impressive. It’s not powerful or admired. It’s ordinary—often overlooked.

    And yet, God chose it to carry the Savior of the world.

    That tells us something powerful:
    God is not looking for perfection, status, or strength. He’s looking for availability and willingness.

    If God can use a donkey to carry His glory into Jerusalem, He can certainly use you, too. He can use you right where you are. He can use you just as you are.

    Every Detail Has Purpose.

    The donkey wasn’t just an animal—it was part of a divine plan written hundreds of years earlier.

    Even the small details mattered.

    Sometimes we think our lives are made up of random moments, delays, or insignificant seasons. But Easter reminds us:

    Nothing is wasted in God’s hands.

    Every step, every waiting season, every unexpected turn—He is weaving it into a bigger story.

    Your Role Matters, Even If It Feels Small.

    The donkey didn’t preach. It didn’t perform miracles. It simply carried Jesus.

    And that was enough.

    In a world that celebrates being seen, God honors those who are willing to simply carry His presence.

    Maybe your role right now feels quiet. Maybe it feels unseen. But if you are walking in obedience, you are part of something eternal.

    Surrender Makes You Useful.

    The donkey had never been ridden before. Yet it allowed Jesus to sit upon it and lead.

    That’s a picture of surrender.

    When we stop resisting, controlling, or striving—and simply allow Jesus to lead—our lives become vessels of His purpose.

    This Easter, remember:

    God didn’t just use the cross, the tomb, or the resurrection.
    He used a borrowed donkey.
    He used ordinary people.
    He used unexpected moments.

    With God, everything has a purpose… even a donkey.

    So the question becomes:

    Are you willing to be used—no matter how small it may seem?

    Friends, I pray your Easter is filled with blessings. Remember to look for even the small blessings from God…they serve a purpose.

    With love and joy,

    Laura

  • Catch and Release — Choose Joy Adventure

    Catch and Release — Choose Joy Adventure

    One of the things I love about my Choose Joy Adventure is that it reminds me life with God is not a straight path — it’s a journey. Sometimes it feels like a peaceful walk along the shore… and other times it feels like standing at the edge of the water, holding something I worked hard to catch, knowing God is asking me to release it.

    “Catch and release” is a phrase often used in fishing. There are places and times where, after you catch a fish, you are required to release it back into the water. The purpose is growth. The fish population grows stronger because not every catch is kept.

    Catch means to secure something.
    Release means to set it free.

    If I’m honest, releasing is hard — especially after I’ve worked so hard to catch something. Just like fishing, there are seasons of waiting in life. Seasons where I’ve stood still for a long time, watching, hoping, praying, waiting to feel that little nibble that tells me something is finally happening.

    Waiting for the moment I can set the hook.
    Waiting to reel in the big one.
    Waiting for the breakthrough I prayed for.

    And then… sometimes God asks me to let it go.

    I have had to release jobs I worked hard to achieve.
    Release long-time friendships because life has changed.
    Release goals because of health struggles.
    Release expectations because life didn’t turn out the way I thought it would.

    In those moments, it didn’t feel like an adventure.
    It felt like a loss.
    It felt like failure.
    It felt like I had done something wrong.

    But the more I walk this Choose Joy journey, the more I am learning something powerful:

    God is not trying to take from me —He is growing me.

    Psalm 55:22 (NIV) says,

    “Cast your cares on the Lord and He will sustain you;
    He will never let the righteous be shaken.”

    To cast means to release.

    Sometimes the most courageous step in the adventure is not holding tighter…it’s letting go.

    There are two things we can count on in life:
    God never changes, and life always will.

    Change is inevitable.
    Growth is intentional.
    ~ Glenda Cloud

    So the question becomes —
    Will I fight the change…or will I grow through it?

    On this Choose Joy Adventure, I am learning there is a difference between giving up and letting go.

    Giving up says,
    “I lost.”

    Letting go says,
    “God has something more.”

    Just like releasing the fish so it can grow, sometimes God asks me to release what I thought I needed… so He can grow something deeper in me.

    I am not defeated.
    I am being developed.

    I can look back and be thankful for the seasons where I caught something wonderful — the job, the friendship, the opportunity, the dream. Those were real gifts.

    But I am also learning to trust that when God asks me to release something, it is because the adventure is not over yet.

    Through the eyes of faith, I can say yes to the next step, even when I don’t understand it.

    2 Corinthians 5:17 (ESV) reminds us,

    “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation.
    The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.”

    New seasons require open hands.

    And the greatest example of release is this —
    God released His Son for us.

    Because of Jesus, we have the freedom to release fear, doubt, disappointment, and regret.

    So if you find yourself holding something today that God is asking you to release…you are not failing.

    Because of Jesus, we can choose joy even when life changes.
    Because of Jesus, every ending can become the beginning of a new adventure.

    You are stepping deeper into the journey.

    My friend, in life’s adventures, you will be asked to trust the One who sees the whole river, not just the line in your hand.

    Catch.
    Release.
    Trust.
    Grow.
    Choose Joy.

    With love and joy,

    Laura

  • Perfect Love Casts Out Fear

    Perfect Love Casts Out Fear

    Fear has a quiet way of slipping into our decisions.

    Sometimes it sounds like wisdom. Sometimes it disguises itself as caution. Sometimes it simply whispers, “What if this goes wrong?” Before we realize it, fear is shaping how we respond, how we plan, and even how we see ourselves.

    But Scripture offers a powerful truth about fear.

    In 1 John 4:18, we read:
    “There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.”

    Perfect love casts out fear.

    Not willpower.
    Not control.
    Not having all the answers.

    Perfect love.

    And that love is found in God.

    When we truly begin to understand how deeply we are loved by Him, fear loses its grip. We no longer have to make decisions based on protecting ourselves, proving ourselves, or controlling outcomes. Instead, we can move forward grounded in the steady assurance that we are already held by a loving Father.

    This leads to an important question we can ask ourselves in the middle of any decision:

    Am I responding from love… or from fear?

    Fear tightens.
    Love opens.

    Fear tries to control.
    Love learns to trust.

    Fear focuses on everything that could go wrong.
    Love remembers that God is already present in whatever comes.

    The truth is, we will still feel fear at times. We will still experience worry, frustration, disappointment, and uncertainty. But these emotions are not failures of faith. They are invitations.

    Every negative emotion is an opportunity.

    An opportunity to pause and bring our hearts honestly before God.
    An opportunity to let Him reshape the thoughts we are believing.
    An opportunity to be transformed.

    What if instead of running from uncomfortable emotions, we saw them as doorways?

    A moment of anxiety becomes a chance to lean into God’s peace.
    A moment of anger becomes a chance to receive His patience.
    A moment of fear becomes a chance to experience His love more deeply.

    God does not waste our emotions. He meets us inside them.

    When we bring our fears to Him, something beautiful happens. What once felt like distance becomes a deeper connection. What once felt like uncertainty becomes trust. What once felt like fear becomes love.

    Over time, we begin to know God not just as an idea, but as a faithful presence walking with us through every moment.

    And that is where transformation begins.

    So the next time fear shows up, pause and ask yourself gently:

    What is this moment inviting me to discover about God?

    Because every fear is an opportunity to experience His perfect love.

    And perfect love casts out fear.

    With love and joy,

    Laura

  • What I See vs. What Is

    What I See vs. What Is

    It All Depends on the Lens.

    There is a song that drifts through my mind sometimes like sunlight breaking through a stubborn storm cloud:
    “I can see clearly now, the rain is gone…” by Johnny Nash.

    It is cheerful. Hopeful. Almost triumphant.

    But here is the deeper question:

    Was the rain the only thing blocking the view?
    Or was it the lens I was looking through?

    Because what I see… is not always what is.

    Sometimes I look at a situation and see:

    • Conflict
    • Disappointment
    • Offense
    • Fear

    And without realizing it, I slip on a subtle pair of glasses. The lens of separation.

    Through that lens, I see:

    • Me vs. them
    • My will vs. God’s will
    • Control vs. surrender

    Suddenly, I am managing outcomes, rehearsing conversations in my head, trying to shape people and circumstances into something that feels safer.

    But separation distorts.

    It whispers:
    “You are alone in this.”
    “You must fix this.”
    “If you don’t control it, it will fall apart.”

    Yet Scripture tells a different story.

    “The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.”
    — Exodus 14:14

    Stillness does not fit well inside a control lens.
    But it fits perfectly inside a trust lens.

    Control promises clarity.
    But it often produces anxiety.

    When I look through control, I evaluate everything by:

    • What I can manage
    • What I can predict
    • What I can guarantee

    And if I cannot guarantee it?
    I tighten my grip.

    But Jesus never invited us into a life of tightened fists.

    He invited us into abiding.

    “Abide in me, and I in you… apart from me you can do nothing.”
    — John 15:4–5

    Control says, “Produce.”
    Abiding says, “Remain.”

    One exhausts.
    The other transforms.

    Now imagine putting on a different pair of glasses.

    Instead of separation and control, what if I looked through the lens of the Spirit?

    “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control.”
    — Galatians 5:22–23

    This lens does something remarkable.

    Where I once saw offense, I now see opportunity for patience.
    Where I once saw chaos, I now see a place for peace.
    Where I once saw delay, I now see space for faithfulness.

    The circumstances may not change immediately.

    But the clarity does.

    It is not that the rain disappears.

    It is that my vision shifts.

    There is a holy difference between what I see and what is.

    What I see:

    • A closed door
    • A strained relationship
    • An uncertain future

    What is:

    • God is present
    • God is working
    • God is faithful

    “For we live by faith, not by sight.”
    — 2 Corinthians 5:7

    Sight is immediate.
    Faith is eternal.

    Sight measures the moment.
    Faith measures the promise.

    When I look only through sight, clouds fill the sky.

    When I look through faith, I remember the sky was always there behind the storm.

    Perhaps “I can see clearly now” is not about the rain ending.

    Perhaps it is about surrendering the lens.

    When I release separation, I remember I am deeply connected to Christ.

    When I release control, I remember the Spirit produces fruit without my striving.

    When I choose the lens of the Spirit, I begin to see:

    • Love where I once saw a threat
    • Joy where I once saw irritation
    • Peace where I once saw uncertainty

    Clarity does not come from perfect circumstances.

    It comes from a transformed perspective.

    “Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.”
    — Romans 12:2

    Renewal is lens replacement.

    Reflection

    What lens have I been wearing lately?

    Separation?
    Control?
    Fear?

    Or the fruit of the Spirit?

    Because what I see is deeply shaped by what I believe.

    And when I allow the Spirit to adjust my vision, I begin to notice something beautiful:

    The rain may still fall.
    The season may still stretch longer than I expected.

    But through the right lens, I can see clearly.

    Not because the storm vanished.

    But because God never did.

    With love and joy,

    Laura