Posted in Moments and Musings

Godly Rest Is Earned, Not Entitled

We live in a world obsessed with rest.

Self-care. Slow living. Soft life. Early retirement. “I’m just tired.” We hear it everywhere. And while I absolutely believe rest is sacred, I also believe we’ve confused Godly rest with comfort without contribution.

Recently, I had a conversation with my daughter, Emilie, that put words to something I’ve been feeling for a long time.

Emilie works hard.

Spring, summer, and fall in her home are not lazy seasons. They are full. She preserves vegetables, cans fruit, bakes bread, prepares meals, freezes food, and stocks her pantry. She plans ahead. She thinks long-term. She equips her household with intention.

Why?

So that when winter comes, she can rest.

Not scramble. Not panic. Not strive.
Rest.

That is Godly rest.

God Worked Before He Rested

In the opening chapter of Genesis, we see the original pattern for life. God created the heavens and the earth in six days. He spoke light into existence. He separated land and sea. He formed plants, stars, animals, and mankind.

Six full days of work.

Then — and only then — He rested.

Scripture tells us in Genesis 2:2 that on the seventh day, God finished His work and rested from all He had done.

He did not rest instead of working.
He rested after working.

There is a divine order there.

It’s Not Just Spiritual — It’s Mathematical

When you look at the creation pattern, it’s almost like a math equation:

6 days of work
1 day of rest

That’s a 6:1 ratio. Roughly 85% work, 15% rest.

Emilie unintentionally mirrors this rhythm in her own life. She works three quarters of the year preparing her home. Then she rests in the winter, enjoying the fruit of her labor.

It’s simple math.

Work + Preparation = Rest
No Work + No Preparation = Stress

Yet so many people today want the winter rest without the spring planting.

They want the harvest without the sowing.
The provision without the preparation.
The peace without the discipline.

The Danger of Wanting Rest Without Work

Wanting rest without work doesn’t produce peace. It produces anxiety.

Because rest without preparation is fragile. It depends on luck, others’ labor, or constant scrambling.

Godly rest, on the other hand, is stable.

It’s the feeling of opening your freezer in January and knowing it’s full because you filled it in July.

It’s sitting down at the end of the week knowing you gave your best.

It’s Sabbath that feels sweet because you poured yourself out Monday through Saturday.

Real rest feels good because something was accomplished.

Godly Rest Is Rhythmic, Not Lazy

God did not design us for burnout. But He also did not design us for idleness.

Work came before the fall. Purpose was part of Eden. Tending the garden was a gift, not a punishment.

Rest is not an escape from responsibility.
It is a reward of faithfulness.

When Emilie rests in the winter, it isn’t laziness. It’s wisdom. It’s the natural outcome of diligence. She isn’t exhausted and resentful — she is satisfied.

That’s the difference.

The Easy Life Is a Mirage

Our culture sells the idea of an easy life right now. Immediate comfort. Immediate reward. Immediate rest.

But Scripture paints a different picture.

There is sowing and reaping.
There is planting and harvesting.
There is working and resting.

If we bypass the working season, we rob ourselves of the deep satisfaction that makes rest meaningful.

Godly rest isn’t about doing nothing all the time. It’s about honoring the rhythm God established from the beginning.

The Invitation

Maybe the question isn’t, “Why am I so tired?”

Maybe the better question is, “Have I honored the rhythm?”

Have I worked faithfully?
Have I prepared wisely?
Have I embraced my season?

Because when work is done with purpose, rest becomes holy.

Emilie understands something simple but profound: you can’t rest well in winter if you wasted the summer.

God showed us the formula in the very first pages of Scripture. Six days He worked. One day He rested.

It’s not just theology.
It’s design.
It’s math.
It’s wisdom.

And it still works.

Photo by Maddi Bazzocco on Unsplash

Posted in Moments and Musings

What’s Your Superpower?

If you had asked me years ago what my superpower was, I probably would’ve said something humble and reasonable.

Now?

I’ve had enough life experience to confidently say:

My superpower is overthinking… but like, in a productive, slightly chaotic, unexpectedly useful way.

And honestly, once I stopped fighting it, everything started to make a lot more sense.

Origin Story: Blessed With a Brain That Never Logs Off

Some people can just… relax.

Their minds go quiet. They sit still. They exist peacefully in the moment.

I am not those people.

My brain said:

“What if we thought about everything? All the time? In detail?”

And instead of resisting it forever, I eventually realized something important:

Overthinking isn’t the problem. What you do with it is.

Because sure, I can spiral a little—but I can also:

  • See things from multiple angles
  • Anticipate problems before they happen
  • Mentally map out solutions like it’s my full-time job

So really, it’s less “overthinking” and more… advanced life analysis.

Superpower #1: Arguing With People… Who Aren’t Even There

Let’s talk about one of my more refined skills.

I can have a full, detailed, emotionally layered argument in my head…
with someone I don’t even know.

No introduction. No context. Just vibes.

One minute I’m minding my business, and the next:

  • I’ve built a whole scenario
  • Someone imaginary has said something completely wrong
  • And I am absolutely not letting that stand

And the craziest part?

I win every single time.

Flawless logic. Strong delivery. No interruptions.

Do I know this person? No.
Did this conversation happen? Also no.
Was I right? Without question.

But here’s the thing—this weird little habit actually sharpens something real:

I’m constantly:

  • Practicing how I think
  • Strengthening my perspective
  • Learning how to articulate what matters to me

So yes, I argue with strangers in my head.

But it’s basically training.

Superpower #2: Turning Tiny Thoughts Into Big Ideas

Give me one small thought, and I will turn it into:

  • A full plan
  • A backup plan
  • And a “just in case everything goes sideways” plan

It’s a gift.

And occasionally… a lot.

But it also means I don’t just skim the surface of life.

I go deeper.

I connect dots. I notice patterns. I ask questions like:

“Okay, but what’s really going on here?”

And before I know it, I’ve:

  • Solved a problem
  • Reframed a situation
  • Or created something better than what I started with

All because my brain refused to leave well enough alone.

Superpower #3: Saving the World… Through Crochet and Embroidery

Now this one might sound a little unexpected, but stay with me.

There’s a part of me that genuinely believes:

“You know what might fix things? Crochet. Embroidery. A little creativity and care.”

And no, I don’t mean that in a “this solves everything instantly” kind of way.

I mean it in a:

  • Slowing down
  • Creating something meaningful
  • Pouring intention into small things

kind of way.

Because sometimes the world feels loud, messy, and completely out of control.

And then there’s something powerful about:

  • Sitting down
  • Using your hands
  • Creating something beautiful, one stitch at a time

It’s grounding. It’s calming. It’s real.

And honestly?

The world could use a little more of that energy.

So no, I’m not out here solving global issues overnight—but I am contributing something quieter:

Care. Thoughtfulness. Intention.

And that counts.

Superpower #4: Loving Big (Especially My Granddaughter)

Out of everything, this might be my most important superpower.

I love deeply.

And when it comes to my granddaughter?

It’s on a completely different level.

There’s something about looking at her and thinking:

“I want you to grow up knowing exactly who you are—and never apologizing for it.”

That matters to me.

A lot.

I want her to:

  • Be confident in her voice
  • Trust herself
  • Take up space without shrinking
  • And never feel like she has to be anything other than who she is

And if my role in her life is to reinforce that over and over again?

Then that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

Because the world will try to tell her a lot of things.

But if I do this right, one of the loudest voices she hears will be:

“You’re allowed to be exactly who you are.”

Superpower #5: Caring Enough to Think It Through

At the core of everything—overthinking, imaginary debates, creative projects, deep love—there’s one common thread:

I care.

I care enough to:

  • Think things through
  • Question what doesn’t make sense
  • Imagine better outcomes
  • And actually try to live in a way that reflects that

Even when it would be easier not to.

Even when my brain is tired.

Even when I’ve already thought about something seventeen different ways.

Because once I care about something?

I’m in.

My One “Weakness” (Allegedly)

Okay, fine.

If I had to admit it…

Sometimes my brain doesn’t know when to stop.

There are moments when I think:

“We could… not analyze this further.”

And my brain says:

“Or we could go deeper.”

And suddenly I’m three layers into a situation that probably didn’t need all that.

But honestly?

I’ve learned to work with it instead of against it.

Because the same brain that overthinks…

Also understands, solves, creates, and loves at a level I wouldn’t trade for anything.

Final Thoughts: A Superpower I’ve Grown Into

For a long time, I thought overthinking was something I needed to fix.

Now I see it differently.

It’s something I’ve learned to use.

It helps me:

  • Understand the world
  • Navigate life
  • Create meaning
  • And show up for the people I love

In my own way.

And if that includes:

  • Winning arguments that never happened
  • Mentally redesigning everything
  • And believing crochet might secretly heal the world

Then honestly?

I’m doing just fine.

What’s your superpower? Maybe you overthink like me, argue with strangers in your head, or secretly believe yarn can save the world. Whatever it is—own it. Share it in the comments, tag a friend who needs to embrace their quirks, or just take a moment to celebrate the little things that make you unapologetically yourself. Life’s too short not to. 💖

Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash

Posted in Moments and Musings

Moving Forward When Self-Doubt Holds You Back

There are moments when I realize the greatest resistance to the life God is inviting me into isn’t the enemy, my circumstances, or a lack of opportunity—it’s me.

More specifically, it’s my self-doubt, my habit of comparison, and my tendency to procrastinate when obedience feels unclear or uncomfortable.

I second-guess everything.

Even when God opens a door, I pause at the threshold, questioning whether I heard Him correctly, whether I’m qualified, or whether someone else could do it better. Instead of moving forward, I linger in uncertainty, convincing myself I just need a little more confirmation, a little more clarity, or—if I’m honest—a safer plan.

Self-Doubt: When I Question What God Has Already Confirmed

Self-doubt has a quiet way of disguising itself as humility or wisdom. But often, it’s simply unbelief dressed up as caution.

God speaks, and I immediately respond with questions:

  • What if I’m wrong?
  • What if I fail?
  • What if I misunderstood Him?

Yet Scripture reminds me that God is not vague or confusing with His children.

“For God is not a God of confusion but of peace.” (1 Corinthians 14:33)

When I constantly second-guess what God has already made clear, I end up trusting my insecurity more than His voice. I forget that He knows my limitations—and still chooses me.

“Being confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion.” (Philippians 1:6)

Comparison: Looking Sideways Instead of Forward

Comparison is another trap that pulls me out of alignment with God’s will. When I focus on what others are doing, how fast they’re moving, or how successful they appear, I lose sight of my own assignment.

Comparison distorts my perspective. It makes me feel behind when God never asked me to run someone else’s race.

“Let us not become conceited, provoking and envying each other.” (Galatians 5:26)

God’s plan for my life is personal and intentional. When I measure myself against others, I unintentionally declare that His design wasn’t enough—or that His timing needs improvement.

Procrastination: Delayed Obedience in Disguise

Procrastination often shows up when faith is required.

When God asks me to step out before I feel ready, I default to waiting. Waiting to feel more confident. Waiting to feel more prepared. Waiting until I have a clear, step-by-step plan.

But delayed obedience is still disobedience.

“If you know the good you ought to do and don’t do it, you sin.” (James 4:17)

Faith was never meant to be comfortable. It was meant to be trusting.

My Obsession with Process vs. God’s Invitation to Faith

I love a process. A formula. A clear roadmap.

But God keeps reminding me that while processes have their place, they are not meant to replace faith. He doesn’t always give me the full plan—He gives me Himself.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.” (Proverbs 3:5–6)

I want God to hand me a detailed outline, but He asks me to walk with Him instead. His Word is my guidebook. His presence is my assurance. His promises are my process.

“Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.” (Psalm 119:105)

A lamp doesn’t illuminate miles ahead—it shows just enough for the next step. And that’s where faith lives.

Choosing Faith Over Fear

Walking in the fullness of all God has for me requires surrendering my need to control outcomes, timelines, and certainty. It means believing that obedience matters more than perfection, and movement matters more than mastery.

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

God isn’t waiting for me to feel fearless. He’s waiting for me to trust Him enough to move forward anyway.

When I stop second-guessing, stop comparing, and stop postponing obedience, I make room for God to do what only He can do.

And maybe the fullness I’m longing for isn’t found in having everything figured out—but in finally saying, “Yes, Lord,” and taking the next step.

Closing Prayer

Father God,
Thank You for Your patience with me—for never giving up on me even when I hesitate, second-guess, or delay obedience. You see the places where self-doubt has silenced my confidence, where comparison has distracted my focus, and where procrastination has kept me from stepping fully into what You’ve already prepared for me.

Lord, forgive me for the times I’ve trusted my fear more than Your voice, my need for control more than Your promises, and my own understanding more than Your Word. Teach me to walk by faith and not by sight. Help me release my obsession with having every step mapped out and instead anchor my life in You.

Your Word says You have plans to prosper me and not to harm me, plans to give me hope and a future. I choose to believe that today. I ask for courage to take the next step—even when it feels uncomfortable—and humility to follow You even when the path is unclear.

Let Your Word be my guidebook, Your Spirit be my counselor, and Your presence be my confidence. I surrender comparison, fear, and delay, and I choose obedience, trust, and faith.

Have Your way in me, Lord. I want all that You have for me.In Jesus’ name,
Amen.

Posted in Moments and Musings

Brain Fog, Hot Flashes & Other Fun Midlife Surprises

I’m in year three of menopause madness, and let me tell you—it’s like my body staged a hostile takeover and forgot to leave a welcome mat.

It’s not fun.
It’s not helpful.
It’s not easy.

I’m hot. I’m emotional. I’m forgetful. I’m irritated… a lot. I’m pretty sure I’m not alone—somewhere out there, another woman is fanning herself while crying over lost car keys or screaming at the dog for no reason.

I’ve survived—or at least fought back—against the top five menopause symptoms. Sometimes my weapon of choice is chocolate. Sometimes it’s prayer. Sometimes it’s sheer stubbornness. And yes, sometimes I combine all three and call it a victory. Here’s how I’ve been slaying the beast… or at least beating her back when I need a chocolate bribe.

1. Hot Flashes: Spontaneous Combustion Happens

Hot flashes hit without warning. One second I’m sitting calmly, the next I feel like I’ve been microwaved alive. If spontaneous combustion were real, menopause would be the poster child.

I’ve wrestled with family members over the thermostat, cursed summer in every language I know, and considered moving to Antarctica.

Here’s my arsenal:

  • Cold water—I drink it like it’s an Olympic sport.
  • Light clothing—tanks, tees, and occasionally the tiniest whisper of dignity.
  • Fans—my ceiling fan runs 24/7 in high gear, and I’m not apologizing.
  • Cool showers—especially before bed. They save my sanity and my sheets.
  • Cornstarch powder—sounds bizarre, works miracles. Moisture doesn’t stand a chance.

“A gentle answer turns away wrath.” — Proverbs 15:1
Especially when someone dares touch the thermostat.

2. Emotional Rollercoaster: Cry, Rage, Laugh (All Before Breakfast)

Menopause hits like a silent scream that won’t quit. I cry, rage, and laugh—all before breakfast. Everything irritates me. Nothing feels right. The smallest frustrations feel like full-blown betrayals. Midlife crisis? More like menopause crisis.

Here’s how I survive the emotional chaos:

  • Take it to God. Ugly tears, loud prayers, honest hearts—it works.
  • Keep perspective. Bad moment ≠ bad life.
  • Laugh. Blogs, memes, articles written by other menopausal women remind me I’m not alone… just hormonally enhanced.
  • Talk to family. I lean on my sisters—they get it, and their patience is saintly.

Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you.” — 1 Peter 5:7
“Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes in the morning.” — Psalm 30:5

3. Brain Fog: Hide-and-Seek With Your Own Thoughts

My brain plays hide-and-seek and never tells me when it’s done. I used to feel sharp, clear, unstoppable. Now, words vanish mid-sentence. Thoughts hide in corners. I forget things I know I know. I once spent ten minutes looking for my glasses… while they were on my head.

Here’s what keeps me functional:

  • Stay calm. Panicking only thickens the fog.
  • Journal. Capture fleeting thoughts before menopause claims them forever.
  • Use a calendar. If it’s important, ink it in. No exceptions.

“God is not the author of confusion, but of peace.” — 1 Corinthians 14:33
“If any of you lacks wisdom, ask God.” — James 1:5

4. Weight Gain: My Body Went Rogue

I’ve always had a waist, plus-size or not. Then menopause hit. Now my hourglass has morphed into a more… grape-like shape. Nobody seems to make clothes for it. And jeans? Don’t get me started.

How I cope:

  • Grace first. Often served with chocolate or pasta, because boundaries exist but chocolate is essential.
  • Hydrate. Water, water, water—even when it’s freezing outside.
  • Vegetables. I’m trying for one with every meal. So far, I’ve succeeded… sometimes.
  • Movement. 2026 is my “get up and move” year. Walk, stretch, repeat. Hopefully, sweat and chocolate can coexist.

“Man looks at outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” — 1 Samuel 16:7
“My body is a temple of the Holy Spirit.” — 1 Corinthians 6:19

(A well-loved, well-used temple.)

5. Aches and Pains: Menopause or Impending Doom?

Every twinge brings panic: menopause or urgent care? My knees, hips, and back like to remind me they’re aging gracefully—or maybe just testing my patience.

Here’s what I’ve learned:

  • Ignore Dr. Google. Doom and gloom are one search away.
  • Find a doctor who listens. They’re rare, but worth the hunt.
  • Rest and movement. Yes, both. Balance is key.

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” — Psalm 147:3

A Few Final Weapons

Some medications help women survive menopause. If you trust your doctor, follow their guidance. I take a more holistic path, leaning on family, humor, and chocolate when necessary.

My family’s patience and love deserve medals. I hope to repay them someday, but for now, they help me survive this beast.

Most importantly, give yourself grace. Communicate. Ask for help. Celebrate small victories. Grieve the season ending, and make room for the next.

“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens.” — Ecclesiastes 3:1

Menopause is wild. It’s weird. It’s exhausting. It’s annoying.

But light exists at the end of the hot-flash tunnel. And someday—gasp!—growing old gracefully might actually feel good. Chocolate optional, but highly recommended.

Photo by Skyler Ewing on Unsplash
Posted in Moments and Musings

Doubting Thomas, Loving Savior

It It wasn’t an accident that Jesus went to the cross. Likewise, it wasn’t an accident that He returned with scars. In fact, those very scars became the proof one of His beloved disciples needed to believe.

John 20:24–27 (NLT) tells the story: Thomas, nicknamed “the Twin,” wasn’t with the other disciples when Jesus appeared. They excitedly told him, “We have seen the Lord!” However, Thomas replied, “I won’t believe it unless I see the nail wounds in his hands, put my fingers into them, and place my hand into the wound in his side.”

Eight days later, Thomas joined the disciples again. Although the doors were locked, Jesus appeared as He had before. “Peace be with you,” He said. Then He addressed Thomas directly: “Put your finger here, and look at my hands. Put your hand into the wound in my side. Don’t be faithless any longer. Believe!”

Doubting Thomas—Misunderstood

For much of my childhood, I learned to see Thomas as a cautionary tale. In other words, doubt equaled weakness. Faith meant blind trust. Teachers and Sunday school lessons framed Thomas as the disciple we should avoid becoming. Consequently, I judged him harshly. I convinced myself I would have believed immediately. I imagined my own courage and faithfulness.

However, I wasn’t there.

I didn’t witness the man I loved and trusted—my Teacher, my Messiah—beaten, mocked, and nailed to a cross. Moreover, I didn’t stand helpless while hope seemed to die. I didn’t live in fear that if they killed Him, they might come for me next. Furthermore, I didn’t navigate the confusion of grief colliding with rumors of resurrection. Finally, I didn’t have to walk into a locked room carrying longing, fear, and hope all at once.

Thomas did.

Jesus Meets Thomas Where He Is

When I slow down and examine the story, something remarkable stands out: Jesus never scolds Thomas. He doesn’t sigh. He doesn’t shame him. He doesn’t compare him to the others. In fact, He doesn’t label him weak.

Instead, Jesus meets him exactly where he is. He doesn’t dismiss Thomas’s questions or doubts. Furthermore, He doesn’t hide His scars. He doesn’t rush him. Rather, He invites Thomas closer, offering the proof Thomas asked for generously and patiently.

“Put your finger here,” Jesus says. “Look at my hands. Put your hand into the wound in my side.”

This isn’t reluctance. Nor is it irritation. Instead, it’s generosity. Jesus wants Thomas to believe, and He uses His wounds as reassurance, not as a weapon of shame. He doesn’t rebuke him. In fact, He lovingly honors Thomas’s honesty.

The Joy in Belief Born From Doubt

I imagine Jesus rejoicing as Thomas’s doubt transforms into belief. After all, the Savior, who endured the cross and conquered death, delights in seeing His disciple’s faith come alive. Furthermore, Jesus doesn’t see Thomas’s need for proof as a threat; He welcomes it.

This truth completely changed how I view faith. I realized that faith doesn’t mean the absence of doubt. On the contrary, faith means bringing our doubts to Jesus instead of walking away with them. Thomas didn’t pretend. He didn’t perform faith he didn’t feel yet. Instead, he was honest, and Jesus honored that honesty.

The Lies We Believe About Doubt

How often do we believe the lie that God is disappointed when we question? How often do we think we must arrive with perfect faith? Yet Jesus, standing in a locked room, offers peace first and proof second. Likewise, He meets our searching hearts with open hands, not condemnation.

We don’t have to fear bringing our doubts to God. We don’t have to hide the questions that swirl inside us. Instead, Jesus draws closer. He meets us with patience and grace.

What Thomas Teaches Us About Faith

Thomas teaches us that doubt isn’t failure. Questions aren’t sin. Longing and fear aren’t disqualifications. Faith grows when we are honest, when we bring our curiosity, confusion, and need for reassurance directly to Jesus. Rather than scolding, Jesus meets us with love.

Moreover, those scars on Jesus’ hands and side carry the story of love, sacrifice, and victory. They aren’t reminders of failure. Instead, they are proof of faithfulness. They show us that every step toward belief matters—even the steps that come after doubt.

Faith isn’t perfect. Faith isn’t instant. Faith is a journey, a conversation, and sometimes a wrestling match. Yet Jesus stands there through it all, inviting us to trust Him, meet Him, and bring Him our questions.

Finally, Thomas reminds us that belief grows in the presence of love and patience. That’s a grace we can carry into every locked room of fear and uncertainty. That’s the Savior we follow—one who welcomes doubt, honors honesty, and celebrates every step toward faith.

Photo by Pisit Heng on Unsplash