NUMBERS 5 I have read Numbers 5 before. More than once. But this time I got stuck on a phrase I had somehow overlooked. A spirit of jealousy. Not jealousy. A spirit of jealousy. When I read the word spirit, my mind immediately went where it has been trained to go. Cast it out. Take authority over it. Deal with it spiritually. But that isn’t what happened in this passage. I kept reading. I found: A spirit of jealousy. An offering of jealousy. The law of jealousy. Bitter water.

I recently heard the words honor and value I realized I wasn’t sure I fully understood them. Then came another word. Respect. And suddenly I found myself asking questions. What is value? What is honor? What is respect? How do they work together? And more importantly, do I actually live them? The more I thought about it, the more I realized we often confuse honor and respect. Many people believe respect is earned. And in many ways, it is. Respect is often built through charact

LEVITICUS 26 I think one of the most misunderstood words in Scripture is covenant. Many of us were taught: Obedience and disobedience. Blessings and curses. Right and wrong. Heaven and hell. But somewhere along the way, nobody stopped to explain covenant. I was reading Leviticus 26, and after all the warnings, all the consequences, all the discipline that would come upon Israel for their rebellion, God says something that stopped me: “I will remember my covenant.” That sounds

What do we do when someone is hurting? Do we listen? Do we pray? Do we cast it out? Do we tell them to renew their mind? Do we tell them to forgive? Do we tell them to be grateful? Do we tell them to put the Word on it? How much of the way we minister comes from the Holy Spirit and how much comes from habit. How much comes from listening and how much comes from what worked last time. How much comes from discernment and how much comes from tradition. How much comes from relati

Being filled with the Holy Spirit doesn’t mean a lie will never knock on the door. It doesn’t mean fear will never whisper. It doesn’t mean old wounds will never ache. It doesn’t mean the enemy will stop trying to remind you of who you used to be. It means you now have the Truth living in you to answer the lie when it comes. That’s the difference. Not the absence of a battle, but the presence of God in the middle of it. The battle may knock, but it doesn’t have to move in. Th

I was listening to a teaching on healing recently, and it got me thinking. Not because I agreed with every conclusion. But because it forced me back into Scripture. The longer I walk with God, the less interested I become in formulas. Humans seem to love them. If you’re not healed, you must have unbelief. If you’re struggling, there must be a demon. If you’re depressed, it must be sin. If you’re anxious, you need medication. If you’re grieving, you need more faith. If you’re

This morning I found myself thinking about church. Not the sermon. Not the worship. People. Specifically, a feeling I have carried for a long time. The feeling that I don’t quite belong. The feeling that somehow I am less than. The strange thing is, if you asked me if I believed that, I would immediately say no. I know what the Word says. I know who I am in Christ. I know I am loved. I know I am accepted. I know I belong to Him. Yet there are moments when something inside of

Some of the strangest parts of growth is realizing some people still think they know you. They speak from old memories. Old versions. Old seasons. And somewhere in the conversation they say: “I know you.” And quietly you think: No. You knew me. You knew me when I people pleased. When I overextended. When I worried about what everyone thought. When I carried relationships. When I checked on everybody else before checking on myself. When I quietly abandoned myself trying to kee

The awakening is realizing you have been surviving for so long that survival started feeling normal. You wake up one day and notice you do not know how to rest anymore. You do not know how to slow down. How to feel safe. How to simply be present. You only know how to brace. Brace for pressure. Brace for disappointment. Brace for loss. Brace for responsibility. Brace for the next thing to go wrong. And suddenly, you begin seeing your life differently. The overgiving. The fixin

When I used to hear the word holiness, I heard: Haughtiness. Rules. Religion. Performance. Outside appearance. I heard: Don’t mess up. Don’t fail. Don’t look wrong. Don’t struggle. Don’t be human. And honestly? That pushed me away more than it pulled me in. Because I already knew brokenness. I already knew failure. I already knew shame. I didn’t need more condemnation. But the more I study the Word of God, the more I’m realizing holiness was never supposed to produce pride. I

There was a time holidays would completely expose me. Not every year. But the years where brokenness spoke louder than love. Holidays were and still can be exhausting internally. I realize now it was not always reality. It was the lens I was seeing through. Every interaction felt loaded. Every emotion became a question. Am I accepted? Am I loved? Did I do something wrong? I lived under so much pressure. Pressure to get motherhood right. Pressure for perfection. Pressure to h

There is something about the story of Leah and Rachel that becomes more powerful the older I get. When most people read it, they immediately feel compassion for Leah. The overlooked one. The unloved one. The woman Jacob did not choose. And honestly, I understand that. There are many people who know what it feels like to live unwanted, unseen, or compared to someone else. But the more I sit with the story, the more my heart also breaks for Rachel. Because humanity is complicat

There have been many times I have loved and lost. I have loved with my whole heart and still watched relationships end. Some were seasons. Some were lessons. Some were painful re-directions I did not understand at the time. There were times I walked away in the wrong. Times I walked away after being wronged. Times I walked away in the wrong way. And more than once I tried to go back. Repair. Restore. Repent. Yet separation remained. For a long time I thought endings meant fai

God chose the Magi to first worship Jesus. Not the religious leaders. Not the Pharisees. Not the people who had spent their lives studying the Scriptures. The Magi. When I really stopped and thought about who they were, it honestly humbled me. Because in my own natural thinking, I do not know that I would have received them. These were men from backgrounds the religious world would not have approved of. Yet somehow, they recognized Jesus. That does not mean God approves of ev

Sometimes rising looks beautiful. Sometimes it looks like tears, anger, exhaustion, silence, wrestling thoughts, and trying not to lose yourself in the middle of it all. That is the part people do not always talk about. Humanity. The Bible never hid humanity. The messy middle. The internal battles. The tension between wanting peace while feeling overwhelmed. Wanting healing while still carrying hurt. Wanting to stay soft in a world that can make you hard. Some days the victor

Sometimes I think about sitting across from the older version of me. The healed me. The wiser me. The me who survived what I thought would break me. I wonder what she would say. Would she smile softly and tell me to stop carrying things that were never mine to hold. Would she remind me that not every thought deserved agreement? Not every feeling deserved authority. Not every wound deserved a permanent home. I think she would tell me that healing was slower than I wanted,

Beautitudes This morning the Beatitudes hit me differently. I have read them before. I have heard teachings on them before. But this morning I noticed something I do not think I fully understood before. Jesus places blessing beside things the world would never call blessed. Blessed are the poor in spirit. Blessed are those who mourn. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst. Blessed are the meek. Blessed are the persecuted. And something in me shifted. I think for a long time

EXODUS 18 There is something powerful about Exodus 18. Before Jethro ever gave Moses counsel, they first sat together and talked about the goodness of the Lord. They rejoiced together, worshiped together, offered sacrifices, and broke bread together. There was relationship before correction. Then Jethro watched Moses lead. From morning until evening, Moses carried the weight of the people alone. Every problem. Every dispute. Every decision came to him. And Jethro said: “This

NUMBERS 10 As I studied Numbers 10, I found myself fascinated by the silver trumpets. Each sound had a purpose. One gathered the people. One called the leaders. One sounded the alarm to move. One prepared the people for battle. Another accompanied worship and rejoicing. The more I studied, the more I kept asking myself, What does this look like for us today? We don’t have silver trumpets directing our every move. We have the Holy Spirit. Jesus said, “My sheep hear My voice.”

There was a moment recently where I noticed something subtle, but powerful someone placed blame on another person. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t aggressive. But it was clear. And as I listened, I realized how familiar that pattern is not just in them, but in all of us. Blame has a way of simplifying complex situations. It narrows everything down to a single conclusion: this is your fault. But in doing that, it removes the opportunity for self-reflection. It keeps us from asking