Cypress And Myrtle

Tag: daily devotion

  • Mama Bear Love

    This Mother’s Day, I ponder about the raw, powerful, fierce protective love that mothers have for their offspring—not just in humans, but in animals as well.

    A mama bear that will fight, even kill, to protect her young. A whale that stayed with her dead calf for months, carrying it through the ocean. A mother spider will sometimes allow herself to be consumed by her young so they can survive their first stage of life.

    It is something so raw, so fierce, so unexplainable. In nature, a mother will do whatever it takes to protect her young—even to the point of sacrificing herself. We call it mother’s instinct.

    And it makes us wonder… where does this kind of love come from?

    Could it be that the Creator has written this instinct into His creation? Something embedded deep within mothers.

    Because if that’s true, then it suggests something even more incredible; that what we see reflected in mothers across nature is a reflection of its Creator.

    So when we see a mother animal refusing to abandon her young, or enduring suffering for their survival, we are not just witnessing instinct. We are catching a glimpse of the Creator because creation bears His signature.

    Which leads to this beautiful implication: the Creator Himself carries that same fierce, protective love, only in its purest and unbroken form.

    But unlike creation, His love is not driven by survival, biology, or necessity. It is intentional. It is governed by holiness, not impulse.

    And yet it is still fierce. Still protective.

    Scripture sharpens the picture. At the Cross, God doesn’t stand at a distance. Instead, He steps in. He takes the cost of redemption upon Himself.

    As Romans 5:8 reminds us:
    “But God demonstrates His own love for us in this: while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”

    In other words, He is saying, “I die, so that My children don’t have to.”

    As mothers, we recognize this love. The need to protect, to provide, to show up no matter how we feel. To keep going even when we’re beyond exhaustion.

    But, this instinct didn’t originate from us. It was placed in us. Which means we were never meant to be the source of it but the vessel.

    The same God who demonstrated that kind of sacrificial, fierce protective love at the Cross is also the One who sustains this love in us.

    As 2 Corinthians 12:9 says,
    “My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.”

    So the call is not to give until we’re depleted. It’s to remain connected to the Source of that love.

  • Ours Triggers Need to be Surrendered

    As moms, we naturally wear many hats; cook, chauffeur, home organizer, timekeeper, peacekeeper, counsellor, motivator… and the list goes on.

    Recently, when my eldest turned 10, I decided to put on a new hat: tutor. I was confident I had the knowledge to help her with her school subjects. What I didn’t realize was that knowledge alone doesn’t equal aptitude.

    As the days went by, my patience grew thinner, my voice grew louder, and irritation quickly turned into frustration. To my great shame, I became a monster mom. There were moments when it felt like all nine Fruit of the Spirit had completely abandoned me. Not one Fruit left in me.

    Revision time every night became stressful for both my daughter and me. I realized it had become a trigger for me.

    Something had to change. We couldn’t go on like this.

    So, I apologized to her and promised to be a calmer tutor. The look on her face told me she wasn’t convinced.

    That night, I prayed, specifically for just three Fruit of the Spirit: self-control, patience, and kindness. I was desperate enough to cling to just these three.

    And at the start of every session, I prayed for just these three Fruit of the Spirit. The days that followed were better than I could have imagined. Our revision sessions became calmer, lighter, even enjoyable. We shared many peaceful and meaningful moments as she prepared for her exams.

    We are not perfect moms. There are moments when we’re triggered, when we react impulsively, emotionally, even angrily. But often, the very things that trigger us are the things God is inviting us to surrender to Him.

    So, here’s my challenge to fellow moms: don’t run from your triggers. Face them. Bring them honestly before God. Name them. Surrender them. Ask Him for the fruit you lack in that moment.

    As Scripture reminds us:

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

    When we lay our triggers at His feet, He doesn’t shame us. He transforms us. And in the very areas where we feel weakest, His grace shows up strongest – because His strength is made perfect in our weakness.

    But He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.”
    2 Corinthians 12:9

  • What My Yes Year Taught Me

    December 2024, a curiosity began to stir in me. I wondered what a year of yes might look like. A year of saying yes to God, to whatever He placed before me, both within church ministry and beyond its walls.

    So, that was how I stepped into 2025. With curiosity more than certainty. I was eager to see what I would learn about God.

    Needless to say, it became a very full year. A year of showing up. Of diving deeper into community life. Of saying yes when it would have been easier, and more comfortable, to say no.

    Now, as I look back on 2025, here’s what I learned. I’ve learned that every yes led me to people, meeting new people and connecting deeper with others. And each connection, enriched my journey of faith.

    Through these people, I was encouraged. Inspired. Spurred on to go deeper with God and to love His people.

    Was I surprised by what I learned? Yes.
    Should I have been surprised? Not really.

    Here’s why.

    God is interested in people. He has always been interested in people. From the very beginning, Scripture reveals a God who walks with humanity, speaks with them, and dwells among them. “It is not good for man to be alone,” God said (Genesis 2:18), not because Adam lacked productivity, but because he lacked relationship.

    God Himself exists in community. The Trinity – God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, living in perfect communion with one another. Relationship is not something God created for us; it is something that already exists within Him. And He invites us into the community of the Trinity, to partake in the joy and love of His fellowship.

    So, it should not surprise me that a year of saying yes to God would draw me deeper into relationships. That growth would happen not in isolation, but in community.

    From Genesis to the Gospels, Scripture tells the same story: a God who walks with His people, dwells among them, and invites them into life together. A God who calls, gathers, sends and also meets us again through one another.

    Jesus did not minister alone. He called disciples to walk with Him. He ate with people, touched the outcast, met people in homes. And when the early church was formed, “they devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship” Acts 2:42). Faith, from the beginning, was meant to be lived together.

    Perhaps the greatest lesson of my yes year was this: when we say yes to God, we are often saying yes to people. And as we grow deeper in our relationship with God, we find ourselves loving people more deeply.

  • The Holy Spirit Visits

    He appeared suddenly, unannounced.
    It wasn’t entirely quiet because the children were sleeping.

    Yet the stillness was overwhelming.
    He hovered over me over my lying body.
    My entire being sensed a presence: majestic, magnificent, beyond description.

    My eyes were open. I could see the ceiling, and everything in the room.
    I could hear the children breathing, the air conditioner humming.
    Everything was still, not quiet, but still.
    As if all of creation had paused in awe and wonder.

    He did not speak.
    He was simply there.

    What struck me most was His weight, not crushing, not suffocating, but like a substance so completely saturated with presence it became heavy.
    I told Him so.

    I don’t remember when He left.
    But I will never forget what it felt to be in the presence of One so holy, so majestic, and infinite.