When prayers go unanswered and change is slow, we’re called to persist—like Isaiah, who refused to be silent until God’s work was complete. The promise is sure; the timing is God’s.

You were never meant to just survive—you were meant to grow strong and unshakable, like an oak planted by the Lord. As you abide in Jesus, your life becomes a source of strength and healing for others. This is your identity and your mission: rooted in Him, reaching out in love.

I know there are moments when living out our faith feels nearly impossible. But take heart—God sees you, even in the struggle. He hasn’t left you, and His word is still true.

Rather than ignoring the past, Isaiah instructs Israel to reflect on their history with God. Just as He kept His promises to Abraham and Sarah, so He will be faithful again. Memory becomes a tool for trust.

Spiritual maturity doesn’t come in a single moment but through daily dependence on God. As Isaiah describes, God awakens us each day to listen and be taught, preparing us to offer encouragement and endurance in life’s hardest seasons.

A simple “How’s it going?” can become a divine opportunity to reflect God’s love. Though we often define ourselves by what we do, Scripture reminds us our true identity is rooted in being known and formed by God even before birth.

Like Israel being lifted on eagles' wings in the Exodus, Isaiah calls us to remember God's past faithfulness. When we trust in His promises and wait expectantly, He will carry us through suffering, just as He did for His people before.

Isaiah makes it plain—only God can save. Though we often look elsewhere for help, only the Lord is our true redeemer and ever-present rescuer.

Hezekiah’s prayer began with reverence, not panic. His example reminds us to approach God with awe, recognizing His power and holiness, not just our problems.

God offered hope beyond human help. Hezekiah showed good leadership, but only Jesus is our true shelter. We wait for His return, living by His ways through the Spirit.

Drawing from David’s example in Psalm 54, we’re called to surrender our battles to God, trusting His faithful help rather than relying on our own defenses.

Sometimes it takes reaching the end to grasp the beauty of the beginning. Scripture isn’t a collection of random moments, but a unified story of God’s desire to be with us—from Genesis to Revelation, fulfilled in Christ.

Though judgment was imminent, Isaiah revealed God’s plan to preserve a faithful remnant. This remnant would return and rely on the Holy One of Israel, showing us that even in seasons of loss and exile, God’s promises endure.

Just as Isaiah was cleansed and called, and Peter was humbled and commissioned, we too are invited to respond with surrender and obedience.

After Easter, we often wonder what comes next. That question echoes back to the early disciples who, even after seeing the risen Christ, weren’t sure what to do.

Jesus conquered death, and in doing so, He gave us freedom, forgiveness, and eternal hope. Happy Resurrection Sunday!

To all who feel hopeless or weighed down, hear this: the cross of Christ is not the end. As we walk through Matthew 27, we don’t just remember Jesus’ agony—we receive the truth that his sacrifice made restoration possible. In him, even death itself is undone. That’s the power and the promise of Good Friday.

As we prepare for family, services, and joyful celebration, let’s not forget that Thursday held moments of deep sorrow, challenge, and love. Join me in reflecting on the final evening Jesus spent with his disciples, and let it shape how we celebrate what’s to come.

Jesus had shared with the disciples that he would soon die, be buried, and rise on the third day. Even though the disciples knew this, it was still hard to comprehend. And it would get even harder to understand when the events of Thursday and Friday began.

A family tradition with resurrection eggs becomes a powerful teaching moment, pointing us not only to the empty tomb but also to the deeper truths of Holy Week and the need for personal reflection and prayer.