Tag: joyful living

Posted in Faith After 50

The Freedom of Childlike Faith

Posted on by Vikki Lynn Sorensen

Fully trusting God isn’t as hard as I once thought.

Or is it?

Jesus tells us that if we want to enter the kingdom of heaven, we must become like little children (Matthew 18:3–4). It’s a passage I’ve heard all my life. For years I thought, That’s sweet. Jesus loves the little children. Then I moved on to what I considered the “important” verses – the ones about blessings, healing, and provision.

But I’m in a season of searching.

I’m digging deeper into what the Bible is really about and what it actually says about the way I’m meant to live. And this past weekend, those verses about childlike faith came rushing back to me.

Last week I spent several days with my 17-month-old granddaughter, Sophia. Becoming a grandparent gives you a completely different perspective. You’re no longer looking at a child through the eyes of responsibility alone. You simply get to delight in them.

Well…and maybe teach them a thing or two.

Like how to cross their arms defiantly. (I’m sure my daughter and son-in-law appreciate that.)

As I watched Sophia, I couldn’t help but notice the complete trust she has in the adults who love her.

When her daddy swings her around, she never worries he’ll let go. His strength makes her brave. She laughs, reaches for him again, and eagerly waits for the next adventure, completely unaware that he leaves the house every day to work so he can provide everything she needs.

When she reaches for her mommy, she knows she’ll be picked up. When she gets hurt, she runs straight into her mother’s arms, convinced that one kiss can make everything better.

When she toddles into the kitchen, she simply expects there will be food waiting for her. She never wonders if there will be enough. She trusts that her parents have already prepared exactly what she needs.

Sophia never lies awake worrying about tomorrow.

She doesn’t stress over mortgages or car payments.

She doesn’t wonder whether she’ll have enough to eat next week.

She doesn’t question whether someone will take care of her.

She simply rests in the confidence that her parents will provide everything she needs.

As I played with her, I realized even her expectations of me were simple. She trusted that I wouldn’t let anything happen to her and that I, too, would care for her.

Watching her, I realized just how free she really is.

She runs without hesitation.

She climbs without fear.

She launches herself onto couch cushions without stopping to calculate everything that could go wrong.

Without fear.

Without hesitation.

Without overthinking.

She simply believes everything will be okay.

And suddenly I realized…

That’s exactly how I want to live.

Not the kind of rest that comes with a cozy chair, a good book, and a cup of tea. The kind of rest that settles deep in your soul. The kind of rest Jesus promised when He said, “Come to Me…and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28-30).

The more I pray and study God’s Word, the more I’m discovering something incredibly rich. I’ve spent much of my life bound by fear.

Fear of failure.

Fear of rejection.

Fear of being hurt.

Fear of not having enough.

Fear of not being liked.

Fear of not being loved.

And every one of those fears has held me back.

If I’m honest, it’s something I’ve battled every time I’ve done something outside my comfort zone – even something joyful, like driving three hours to see my granddaughter or taking a trip to visit my sister in Tennessee. Before I even leave, my mind has already imagined a thousand things that could go wrong. The excuses on how I can’t go pile up before I’ve even packed my bag.

That’s how fear works.

It whispers “what if” until we forget who is actually in control.

But lately something has changed.

Whenever fear starts telling me that something terrible could happen, I hear another voice speaking to my heart.

“That’s not going to be your story.”

Sometimes it’s so strong that I find myself saying it out loud.

“Nope. That’s not going to be my story.”

Then another truth follows close behind. It’s become the antidote to decades of fear. I hear my heavenly Father gently reminding me:

“I cannot fail.”

What confidence there is in those four words.

God cannot fail because His character is perfect. He is faithful to every promise He has ever made (Numbers 23:19). He works all things together for the good of those who love Him (Romans 8:28). He will never leave me nor forsake me (Hebrews 13:5). His plans cannot be thwarted (Job 42:2).

He has never failed me.

And He never will.

Does that mean life suddenly becomes a Disney movie where I’m wearing a size six dress while woodland animals fold my laundry?

Absolutely not.

After nearly fifty-eight years on this earth, I’ve learned that life still happens.

People disappoint us.

Bodies grow older.

Dreams sometimes take unexpected turns.

Hard seasons come.

Jesus never promised an easy life. In fact, He told us, “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world” (John 16:33).

The difference isn’t that trouble disappears.

The difference is that fear no longer gets to lead.

Like little Sophia confidently trusting her parents to provide everything she needs, I can trust my Heavenly Father to provide everything I truly need (Matthew 6:25-34). Before I even ask, He already knows what I need (Matthew 6:8).

That’s what childlike faith really is.

Not childish faith.

Childlike faith.

Trusting.

Resting.

Knowing.

Being fully confident that my Father is good.

This past weekend, God spoke directly to my heart through my pastor.

He said, “Your overwhelming pursuit of an answer has become a problem. I want you to trust Me and trust My Word.”

Immediately I knew the Lord was exposing something in me.

I’d been running everywhere trying to figure out God’s will for my life on my own instead of quietly sitting at His feet. I was searching for answers when He was inviting me into relationship. Mary chose that better way when she sat at Jesus’ feet while Martha busied herself with everything else (Luke 10:38-42).

That’s where I want to be.

At His feet.

Listening.

Waiting.

Trusting.

Childlike faith isn’t pretending we have no questions.- It’s choosing to trust the One who already has every answer. It’s believing that our Father is good even when we don’t understand. It’s refusing to let fear make our decisions. It’s resting in the confidence that God is who He says He is and will do what He has promised.

Just like a little child trusts a loving parent…

I’m learning to trust my Father.

Completely.

And perhaps that’s been the lesson all along.

Posted in Faith After 50

How My Prayer Life Changed When Life Slowed Down

Posted on by Vikki Lynn Sorensen

I used to think prayer had to look a certain way to really count. I imagined long, uninterrupted moments with my Bible open, a journal nearby, and a quiet house with no distractions. I thought that was what “real” prayer looked like, and I assumed that was where God met me best.

But life did not always give me those quiet moments.

For many years, prayer happened in the middle of everything else. It happened between responsibilities, during exhausting seasons, while driving to work, while folding laundry, and while trying to hold everything together with a tired heart and a determined spirit.

And somewhere along the way, God taught me something I needed to understand.

He never needed perfect conditions to hear me.

He only needed my heart.

Finding God in Prayer During Busy Seasons of Life

When I was raising my daughters and working full time, my days moved quickly. I went from one responsibility to another, rarely stopping long enough to sit quietly, reflect, or write out my thoughts.

Instead, I prayed in motion.

I prayed while packing lunches.

I prayed while driving.

I prayed while standing at the kitchen counter late at night finishing everything I didn’t get done earlier.

Those prayers were not polished. They did not always sound like the prayers I thought I was supposed to pray. They were often simple, tired, and sometimes just a few whispered words asking God to help me make it through another day.

But they were real.

They were honest.

And they kept me anchored.

Psalm 34:17 says, “The righteous cry out, and the Lord hears them; he delivers them from all their troubles.”

Looking back, I realize those quick prayers mattered just as much as the longer ones I imagined I needed to pray. God heard every word, even the ones I barely had the energy to say.

How Prayer Changes in a Slower Season of Life

Now I find myself in a different season.

Life still has responsibilities. I still work full time, and I still manage the everyday things that come with being an adult. But the pace has changed.

My daughters are grown. The house is quieter. The constant urgency of raising children has softened.

And in that quiet, my prayer life has changed too.

It has not become more complicated.

It has become more present.

I no longer pray only because I need God to help me survive the day. I pray because I finally have more space to notice Him in the middle of it.

That has been one of the unexpected gifts of this season.

When life slows down, you begin to see things you missed before.

You notice the quiet moments.

You notice the blessings.

You notice that God was present all along.

Learning to Linger in Prayer

In this season of life, I find myself lingering in prayer instead of rushing through it.

I do not see prayer as something I have to squeeze into the leftover spaces of my day. Instead, I see it as time with Someone who already knows my heart.

Sometimes I pray outside while enjoying the morning air. Sometimes I pray while making my coffee. Sometimes I start talking to God without even realizing it because my thoughts naturally turn toward Him.

Psalm 46:10 says, “Be still, and know that I am God.”

I used to think stillness required a perfectly quiet environment. Now I understand that stillness is less about what is happening around me and more about what is happening within me.

Stillness gives me the opportunity to recognize that God is already here.

How Prayer Changes After Years of Carrying Responsibility

Something shifts in prayer when you have spent years trying to hold everything together.

You begin praying from a place of reflection instead of panic.

You begin noticing the ways God carried you instead of only asking Him to carry you.

You begin seeing prayer not as something you turn to when life falls apart, but as something that walks with you through every season.

That is what this season has taught me.

Prayer is not just for the hard moments.

Prayer is what steadies me in the ordinary ones.

It reminds me that God is not only present when I need something from Him. He is present when I simply want to sit with Him.

A Prayer Life Filled With Gratitude

One of the biggest changes I have noticed is that my prayers have become filled with more gratitude.

Not because life is perfect.

It is not.

But because I can finally look back and see how faithful God has been through every season that brought me here.

I pray with gratitude when I look at my daughters and see the women they have become.

I pray with gratitude when I spend time with my granddaughter and recognize the gift of watching another generation grow.

I pray with gratitude for the quiet moments I once wished for but did not always know how to appreciate.

First Thessalonians 5:16–18 says, “Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”

I understand that verse differently now.

Prayer is not something I add to my life.

Prayer becomes the way I move through my life.

When Prayer Becomes More About Awareness Than Words

One of the most beautiful things I have learned is that prayer does not always have to sound like a prayer.

Sometimes prayer looks like gratitude.

Sometimes it looks like silence.

Sometimes it looks like taking a deep breath and remembering God is near.

Romans 8:26 reminds us that “the Spirit helps us in our weakness” and intercedes for us when we do not have the words.

That verse means more to me now than it ever has before.

Because I understand that prayer does not depend on saying everything perfectly. God already knows what is in my heart.

Sometimes He hears the words I speak.

Sometimes He understands the words I cannot.

The Gift of a Deeper Faith After 50

As life slows down, I notice something changing inside me.

I listen more.

I rush less.

I notice God in places I used to overlook.

This season has not made my faith louder.

It has made it deeper.

More steady.

More rooted.

More aware.

I used to think I needed more time to pray well.

Now I realize I needed more awareness.

This slower season has given me space to breathe, reflect, and reconnect with God in a way that feels less like striving and more like resting in His presence.

Maybe that is what prayer was always meant to be.

Not something I force into my day.

But something I live inside of every day.

A reminder that God is near.

Always.

Let’s Keep the Conversation Going

Has your prayer life changed as you have entered a new season of life?

I would love to hear how God has met you in the ordinary moments. Share your thoughts in the comments, and if this encouraged you, share it with another woman who may need the reminder that God is always listening.

Posted in Family & Legacy

When Your Daughter Becomes a Mother

Posted on by Vikki Lynn Sorensen

There are moments in life that stop you in your tracks – not because they are loud or dramatic, but because they feel deeply sacred in a way you don’t know how to explain out loud.

Watching your daughter become a mother is one of those moments.

It doesn’t just mark a new chapter in her life. It opens something inside of you that you thought you had already tucked away, healed, or moved past. It brings everything forward at once – memories, emotions, prayers you once whispered in the dark, and versions of yourself you thought you had outgrown.

And suddenly, you realize something you didn’t expect.

You are not just watching your daughter step into motherhood.

You are also meeting your younger self all over again.

A Full-Circle Moment I Never Saw Coming

When I raised my daughters, I didn’t always have time to slow down and take in the weight of what I was doing. Life moved fast. I worked full time. With the help of my mother, I raised my girls, managed life, and kept pushing forward because I had no other choice.

I didn’t pause to think about legacy. I didn’t stop to reflect on cycles or seasons. I just did what needed to be done, day after day, night after night, until exhaustion became normal and survival became routine.

Now I stand in a completely different season.

My daughters have grown into women. They’re building their own lives. And last year, one of the most powerful shifts of all took place; my one daughter became a mother. 

When I look at her with her daughter, something inside me shifts in ways I cannot control. I don’t just see my daughter. I see myself at her age. I see the weight she carries, even when she smiles. I see the learning curve. I see the love that stretches deeper than she ever imagined. And I see the quiet strength she didn’t even know she had.

This is what full-circle feels like.

The Younger Version of Me I Thought I Left Behind

Watching my daughter step into motherhood has a way of bringing my younger self into the room without permission.

I remember those years clearly – the tired eyes, the constant motion, the worry that I wasn’t doing enough, the guilt that I wasn’t doing it perfectly, and the quiet prayers I sent up to God while folding laundry at midnight or rocking a baby who wouldn’t sleep.

I didn’t always have words for what I carried, but I carried it anyway.

And now, when I see my daughter in those early stages of motherhood, I don’t just feel pride.

I feel compassion.

I feel understanding.

And if I’m honest, I feel healing.

Because I finally see what I couldn’t see back then: I didn’t need to be perfect. I only needed to be present. I only needed to love my children with what I had, right where I was, in the middle of everything I didn’t know how to balance yet.

Healing Through What I Witness, Not What I Fix

I used to believe healing always required doing something – fixing something, changing something, resolving something. But this season has taught me something very different.

Sometimes healing comes through witnessing.

When I watch my daughter with her baby, I don’t step in and correct my past. I don’t rewrite history. I don’t undo the years I lived in exhaustion and uncertainty.

Instead, I sit with it.

I honor it.

I let God soften the edges of it.

And in that softness, something shifts inside me.

Isaiah 46:4 speaks directly into this kind of moment:

“Even to your old age and gray hairs I am He, I am He who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you.”

I didn’t understand that verse fully when I was younger. I understand it now in a way I wish I could have told my younger self.

God carried me through every sleepless night, every overwhelming day, every moment I questioned whether I was enough.

And now I see the fruit of those years standing right in front of me.

Seeing My Daughter and Seeing Myself at the Same Time

There is something almost holy about watching your child step into a role you once held. It creates a mirror you didn’t ask for, but one you can’t ignore.

I see her strength.

I see her love.

I see her uncertainty.

I see her trying.

And I see myself in every part of it.

Not in a critical way but in a deeply compassionate way.

I understand now that motherhood doesn’t come with a manual. It comes with moments of grace that carry us through what we cannot control.

Proverbs 31:28 says:

“Her children arise and call her blessed.”

That verse hits differently now. Because I know what it took to get here. I know the hidden sacrifices. I know the quiet prayers. I know the days that felt like they would never end.

And now I get to see my daughters begin their own version of that same journey.

Healing My Younger Self Through Grace, Not Guilt

For a long time, I carried guilt about how I raised my children. Not because I didn’t love them, but because there were times when I was selfish and wanted to do something just for me. I think many mothers understand that feeling more than they say out loud. We love our children deeply, yet we’re still human. Sometimes we long for a moment that belongs only to us, and that doesn’t make us bad mothers. It makes us women trying to balance caring for everyone else while not completely losing ourselves. 

But something changes when you watch your daughter become a mother.

You start looking back at your younger self with more compassion than criticism. You remember the woman who was doing the best she could while trying to figure life out one day at a time. You realize that wanting a little space for yourself didn’t mean you loved your children any less.

You see that you weren’t a perfect mother, but you were a present one. You loved your children fiercely. You made mistakes, learned from them, and kept showing up every single day.

Somewhere in that realization, healing begins. The guilt you’ve carried for so many years starts to loosen its grip, and grace quietly takes its place.

God Redeems What We Could Not Perfect

There is a quiet redemption happening in this season of life that I didn’t expect.

Not a loud, dramatic kind of redemption.

A gentle one.

A steady one.

The kind that shows up in ordinary moments; rocking a grandbaby, watching your daughter learn, remembering your own journey, and realizing God never left any of it unattended.

Joel 2:25 says:

“I will restore to you the years that the locust has eaten.”

I used to think restoration meant getting something back exactly as it was.

Now I understand it differently.

Sometimes restoration looks like peace where there once was exhaustion.

Sometimes it looks like understanding where there once was confusion.

Sometimes it looks like watching your daughter and finally forgiving yourself.

A Quiet Kind of Healing That Changes Everything

I didn’t expect motherhood to circle back like this. I didn’t expect it to heal me while I watched it continue in someone else. But God often works in ways we don’t plan for and don’t predict.

As I watch my daughter become a mother, I don’t just see her beginning. I see my own beginning reflected back to me. And I see a God who carried both of us through seasons we didn’t fully understand at the time.

I also see something else now that I didn’t see before.

I see peace.

Not because everything was perfect.

But because God was present in every imperfect moment.

And that truth changes everything.

Posted in Walking Through the Bible

Walking Through the Bible: Exodus

Posted on by Vikki Lynn Sorensen

My journey through the Bible continues, and this month I found myself immersed in the book of Exodus.

If I’m being honest, the first five books of the Bible have never been my favorites. For years, I looked at Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy as books I needed to get through rather than books I wanted to read. They seemed packed with history, laws, names I couldn’t pronounce, and details that felt far removed from my everyday life.

I knew they were important because they’re God’s Word, but I didn’t always understand why they mattered so much.

This time was different.

Instead of rushing through my reading just to stay on schedule, I slowed down. I started reading Scripture out loud. I prayed before I opened my Bible and asked God to show me His heart instead of simply helping me finish another chapter.

That simple change transformed everything.

If you’re wondering what sparked this journey, after months of looking for the “perfect” Bible study (which, let’s be honest, probably doesn’t exist), I finally settled on The Daily Grace Co. Year in the Bible study. More importantly, I changed my approach. I stopped reading just to check a box and started reading because I genuinely wanted to know God better.

As I made my way through Exodus, I expected to focus on Moses, Pharaoh, the ten plagues, the parting of the Red Sea, and Israel’s escape from Egypt.

Instead, I found myself seeing something else entirely.

I kept seeing God.

Not just what He was doing, but who He is.

That became the theme of Exodus for me.

God Is God

One truth kept rising to the surface over and over again.

There is no one like Him.

When I reached the account of the plagues, I noticed something I had never really paid attention to before. Each plague wasn’t random. God was confronting something the Egyptians worshiped. The Nile, the sun, livestock, fertility—even Pharaoh himself held religious significance in Egypt.

God wasn’t just sending disasters.

He was making a statement.

Every plague declared that He alone is God.

Later, when we read the First Commandment – “You shall have no other gods before Me” (Exodus 20:3) – it carries even more weight because we’ve already watched Him prove exactly why.

The funny thing is, we don’t worship golden calves or statues today.

At least most of us don’t.

But we can be just as guilty of putting other things ahead of God. Careers. Money. Relationships. Success. Comfort. Approval from other people. Sometimes we even put ourselves on that throne.

We look to those things to give us peace, purpose, security, or identity, but eventually they all disappoint us.

Only God can fill that place.

Exodus reminded me that God doesn’t ask for first place because He’s insecure. He asks for first place because He knows nothing else will ever satisfy the deepest parts of our hearts.

God Is Full of Grace

One of the things people often talk about in Exodus is how God hardened Pharaoh’s heart. But this time, something else stood out to me:

Pharaoh hardened his own heart over and over before we ever read that God hardened it.

God kept giving him opportunities to repent.

He sent Moses again and again. He warned him repeatedly. He demonstrated miracle after miracle. God could have ended the whole situation instantly. Instead, He showed incredible patience.

Psalm 103:8 says,

“The Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in faithful love.”

I saw that verse lived out all through Exodus. God’s grace doesn’t mean He overlooks sin. It means He patiently gives people every opportunity to turn back to Him.

What an incredible picture of His mercy!

God Is the Most Patient Father

I’ll admit it. The Israelites drove me crazy.

God parts the Red Sea. They complain.

He provides food from heaven. They complain.

He gives them water from a rock. They complain.

He leads them with a pillar of cloud during the day and fire at night. They still complain.

More than once I caught myself thinking, Seriously? After everything you’ve seen, how could you possibly doubt God now?

Then the Holy Spirit gently turned that question back toward me.

How many times has God faithfully provided for me…only for me to worry about the very next problem? How many prayers has He answered that I’ve already forgotten? How many times has He proven Himself faithful, only for fear to creep back in anyway?

Ouch.

The Israelites aren’t nearly as different from us as we’d like to believe. Their story is our story. And yet, despite all their grumbling, God kept providing.

He fed them.

He guided them.

He protected them.

He never stopped being faithful, even when they weren’t. That’s not because their behavior deserved it. It’s because that’s who God is.

God Keeps His Promises

One of the saddest moments in Exodus happens after God has done so much for His people.

They make a golden calf.

After witnessing miracle after miracle, they still turn toward an idol. That part has always amazed me. But this time I found myself paying closer attention to God’s response. He was done. He wanted to destroy them. Be done with the whole lot of them and start over again.

But thank God for Moses! Moses intercedes for the people, reminding God of the covenant He made with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.

God remains faithful to what He promised.

What struck me wasn’t Israel’s failure; it was God’s consistency.

People change.

Circumstances change.

Our emotions change.

God never changes.

Numbers 23:19 reminds us that God does not lie or change His mind like people do. His promises don’t depend on our perfection. They depend on His character.

And His character has never changed – not then, not now, and not ever.

The Tabernacle Changed Everything for Me

I’ll admit something else.

When I used to reach the chapters describing the Tabernacle, my eyes glazed over a little.

Measurements.

Fabric.

Wood.

Gold.

Lampstands.

Priestly garments.

It all felt repetitive. This time, though, I slowed down enough to ask why every detail mattered. The answer completely changed how I viewed those chapters.

God wasn’t giving architectural instructions because He cared about construction. He cared about His presence.

Exodus 25:8 says,

“They are to make a sanctuary for Me so that I may dwell among them.”

That verse stopped me.

The Tabernacle wasn’t really about a building. It was about relationship. God wanted to be with His people. Even more beautiful is realizing that every part of the Tabernacle points us toward Jesus.

Jesus became the perfect sacrifice.

Jesus fulfilled what the sacrificial system could never permanently accomplish. Because of Him, we don’t have to approach God through an earthly tabernacle anymore.

The veil has been torn.

The way has been opened.

We have direct access to our Heavenly Father.

A Personal Conviction

As I studied the Tabernacle, God gently impressed something on my heart that I honestly wasn’t expecting.

He doesn’t simply want to dwell among His people. He wants to dwell within His people.

I’ve read 1 Corinthians 6:19 many times:

“Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit who is in you?”

I’ve always understood those words. This time, though, they settled deep in my heart. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel guilt about not always taking care of my body: I felt gratitude.

If the Holy Spirit lives in me, then I want to honor Him, not because I’m trying to earn His love, but because I’ve already received it. It shifted my perspective completely. Taking care of myself became less about losing weight or looking different and more about being a good steward of what God has entrusted to me.

That was a beautiful conviction.

Falling in Love with God’s Word

Somewhere during my study of Exodus, I did something that might sound a little strange.

I hugged my Bible.

I know. It sounds silly. But I couldn’t help it. I’ve fallen in love with God’s Word in a way I never expected. The more I read, the more I want to read. The more I learn, the more I realize there is still so much to discover. One morning during my study, I had the sweetest thought settle into my heart.

It was almost as if the Lord whispered,

“Daughter, it is My delight to share My heart with you.”

I sat there for a long time just thinking about that. And then I realized something. That invitation wasn’t just for me. It’s for every one of us. God delights in revealing Himself to His children. He isn’t hiding. He’s inviting. Every page of Scripture reveals more of His character, His love, His faithfulness, and His heart.

Exodus reminded me of that over and over again.

And now…

I’m moving on to Leviticus.

I never thought I’d say this, but I’m actually excited to see what God has waiting for me there.

Posted in Walking Through the Bible

Walking Through the Bible: Genesis

Posted on by Vikki Lynn Sorensen

I wanted to share something from my heart.

This year, I’ve been intentionally reading through the Bible using a Bible-in-a-year study from The Daily Grace Co. I’ve mentioned it here before, but this experience has been eye-opening. It’s the first time I’ve approached reading the Bible with this much intention. I also made a decision that has changed everything for me: instead of reading silently, I’ve started reading the Bible out loud.

As an ADHD reader, I tend to skim without realizing it. Sometimes I gloss over details, miss important information, or create confusion simply because my eyes move faster than my brain processes the words. Reading Genesis out loud slowed me down. It forced me to pay attention. And while there wasn’t a lot of brand-new information in the book itself, hearing the words spoken brought Scripture to life in a way I hadn’t experienced before.

Along the way, I discovered a few things.

Now, some of you may read this and think, “Sheesh, for someone who’s been a Christian for over 30 years, this is Christianity 101.” And honestly? That’s fair.

But I’ve always believed there’s value in going back to the simple things. Sometimes we need to return to the beginning so we can see something we’ve missed before.

I’ve done this my whole life. Whenever I finish a TV series or a movie franchise, I immediately want to start over and watch it again. Once I know the ending, I notice connections, details, and foreshadowing I completely missed the first time around. I do the same thing with books.

The Bible is no different.

I know how the story ends. I know Jesus wins. I know we win.

Yet I love going back to where it all started—or more accurately, where God chose for us to begin learning about Him. God has always existed, so there is no beginning to go back to. (My finite brain still struggles to comprehend that.)

So that’s what I’m doing in this season.

Relearning.

Rediscovering.

Getting to know my Heavenly Father on a deeper level than ever before.

Here are a few things that stood out to me as I read through Genesis.

1. God is the ultimate Creator.

I look at the trees and think, “God made that.”

I look at the grass beneath my feet and remember that God put it there.

The sky bursts with brilliant yellows, reds, and oranges in the morning, shines blue throughout the day, and fades into violet at night because He said it should. The moon follows its appointed course because God commanded it. Every star sits exactly where He placed it.

And He did it all simply by speaking.

That amazes me.

2. God showed us how powerful words are.

See point number one.

Words have power.

God spoke creation into existence. He could have chosen any method He wanted, but He chose words.

I believe that’s one reason He gave us His Word. When we speak God’s Word, we’re not repeating empty phrases. We’re speaking truth, life, and power.

3. God keeps His promises.

One thing I loved about Genesis was the repetition.

God gave promises to Abraham.

Then He reminded Abraham of those promises.

Then He repeated them to Isaac.

Then He repeated them again to Jacob.

Over and over, I saw God reaffirm what He had already said.

Not because He forgot, but because He wanted them to remember.

From the very beginning, God demonstrated that He keeps every promise He makes.

4. God’s promises are still alive today.

When God promised Abraham blessing, increase, and descendants, He established a covenant that extended beyond Abraham himself.

That’s us.

That’s you and me.

Even if we aren’t part of Abraham’s physical family line, we’ve been grafted into God’s family through Jesus. Those promises still matter. They still carry weight. They still work because God hasn’t changed.

5. God turns what was meant for harm into good.

I’ve read Joseph’s story countless times, but this time something hit differently.

His brothers wanted to destroy him.

Instead, God used every betrayal, every setback, every unfair circumstance, and every delay to position Joseph exactly where he needed to be.

What others intended for evil, God used to save an entire nation from starvation.

And it didn’t happen overnight.

Joseph’s story unfolded over years.

He started as a cocky teenager with big dreams and eventually became second only to Pharaoh himself.

God was working the entire time, even when Joseph couldn’t see it.

6. God uses imperfect people.

This one encouraged me more than I can explain.

Abraham came from a family that worshiped idols.

Isaac repeated some of his father’s mistakes and lied about his wife.

Jacob built a reputation on deception.

Joseph struggled with pride.

None of them were perfect.

Yet none of their flaws stopped God from calling them, blessing them, protecting them, providing for them, or fulfilling His promises through them.

Genesis reminds me that God doesn’t wait for perfect people.

If He did, none of us would qualify.

As I finished Genesis, I realized I learned far more than facts about creation, covenants, and patriarchs. I learned something about the heart of God.

I saw His faithfulness.

I saw His patience.

I saw His mercy.

I saw His desire to keep pursuing people even when they stumble, fail, doubt, and make a mess of things.

Most of all, I saw a God who keeps His word.

And honestly, that makes me excited.

I’m excited for this season of learning, growing, and rediscovering Scripture with fresh eyes. I’m excited to slow down and really listen. And I’m excited to see what God reveals as I continue this journey.

Next up is Exodus.

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for letting me share what’s on my heart. I think I may turn this into a series and pop on here each time I finish a book of the Bible to talk about what I’ve learned, what challenged me, and how God used it to grow my faith.

So here’s to Genesis—the first book of the Bible and the first post in what may become a very meaningful series.