Tag: Scripture

  • Show Me Your Glory

    Moses said, “Please, show me Your glory.” (Exodus 33:18)

    I have been dwelling on this verse for some time.

    Not because I compare myself to Moses, but because I want to pursue God, all of Him, with all my being. And seeing His glory is, perhaps, the deepest longing of every heart that truly seeks Him.

    So I asked Him.

    With fear, wonder, and curiosity, I prayed, “Lord, please show me Your glory.”

    It became an ongoing conversation between God and me. Almost daily, I sensed Him asking, “Do you want to see My glory?” And I would answer, “Yes.”

    One night, I pushed a little further.

    “What would it take to see Your glory?”

    Two verses came to mind:

    “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”
    Matthew 5:3

    And,

    “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.”
    Matthew 5:8

    From where I was, I knew this was not possible. I am neither poor in spirit nor pure in heart by God’s standard.

    But perhaps that is part of the point.

    When Jesus preached the Sermon on the Mount and spoke the Beatitudes, He was not giving us a ladder by which we could climb our way to God. He was revealing the holiness of God and the impossibility of attaining it by our own efforts. Left to ourselves, none of us are pure in heart.

    That is why Jesus said,“Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them.” Matthew 5:17

    He fulfilled what we never could. In Christ, we receive what we cannot earn; His forgiveness, His righteousness, His grace.

    Then, Sunday came.

    I was teaching a Sunday school class of nine-year-olds. It was an ordinary day, and yet it was not ordinary at all.

    The children were exceedingly joyful. They played together, laughed together, welcomed one another, cared for each other, and an overwhelming peace; quiet and indescribable, rested among them.

    There was no striving. No drama. Just love, joy, kindness, and peace.

    I went home thinking about how perfect, and yet how strange, the day had been.

    Then a thought suddenly struck me.

    The glory of God is seen among His people.

    Yes, that was it!

    I finally understood.

    I had been looking for God’s glory in the way He appeared in the Old Testament; in fire, cloud, thunder, and overwhelming displays of His presence.

    But in Christ, under the New Covenant, God’s glory is revealed in another way.

    Jesus prayed to the Father, “The glory that You have given Me, I have given to them” John 17:22

    And Paul wrote that Christ will be “glorified in His saints” 2 Thessalonians 1:10.

    The glory of God is seen when Christ is reflected in His people.

    In the following days, I saw more and more of God’s glory in His people.

    In a child who welcomes another child. In forgiveness freely given. In quiet acts of kindness. In love that does not seek its own way.

    In people who bear the likeness of Jesus.

    Moses longed to see God’s glory, and God revealed His goodness to him.

    Today, we behold the glory of God in the face of Christ, and as we behold Him, we are being transformed into His image.

    That Sunday, in a room full of laughing children and a peace that words cannot fully describe, God answered my prayer.

    “Do you want to see My glory?”

    Yes, Lord.

    And by His grace, I did.

  • 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 another 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.

  • 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.

  • When Moms Become Marthas

    “I’ll relax after I finish cleaning” vs. “Let me relax first before I start cleaning.”

    There’s a trend going around comparing spouses personalities. A simple meme started a discussion among my friends, and one thing we all agreed on; most of us became Marthas after becoming moms.

    From planning to prepping to executing #momlife and household duties, the to-do list never ends. Even with automations and reminders, it still feels like we’re always playing catch-up. But deep down, we know we’re called to prioritize what truly matters first and foremost, the Lord.

    That’s why I was delighted when I came across this article by Our Daily Bread, Biblical Wisdom for Parents addressing this tension between being a “Martha” and a “Mary.”

    “Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed or indeed only one.
    Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”

    (Luke 10:41–42)

    Big idea from the article is that Mary and Martha weren’t in opposition but in tension. Jesus wasn’t rebuking Martha’s service, but her stress. The lesson is not to stop serving, but to serve from a place of abiding, not anxiety.

    The conclusion? We’re invited to be both.

    So, to all the Martha moms out here (myself included), here are some key takeaways and life applications:

    1. Our “many things” must be rooted in “the one thing”

    Motherhood constantly demands our attention; from school communications and toddler tantrums to the dishes in the sink, the growing pile of laundry, and late-night feedings. The to-do list never ends.

    But when we chase after everything without pausing for “the one thing”, sitting at Jesus’ feet, we eventually burn out.

    Jesus gently reminded Martha, “You are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed or indeed only one.” (Luke 10:41–42)

    In our Martha-like moments, let’s not forget the Mary invitation:
    To be still. To listen. To rest in Him.

    How to apply:

    • Start your day with just 1 verse and 1 prayer.
      Example: Psalm 46:10 “Be still, and know that I am God”.

    Reminder: Don’t chase perfection. Chase presence.

    2. Martha was distracted, not wrong

    Martha’s service was good but she let it distract her from what mattered most.
    In today’s terms, Martha could be the “default parent,” or the one who couldn’t relax until everything was done. Sound familiar? We’re not doing anything wrong but when distraction replaces devotion, our soul gets noisy.

    How to apply:

    • Create mini Mary moments in your day (e.g., when washing dishes, say thank-you prayers; during school drop-off).
    • Set an alarm on your phone midday or anytime, just to stop and breathe in God’s presence.
    • Turn chores into worship: play worship music while you clean or meal prep.

    3. Jesus wasn’t condemning. He was inviting

    The tone in Luke 10 isn’t condemnation; it’s a loving redirection: “Martha, Martha…” He sees you, He understands.
    God isn’t asking moms to choose between spiritual or practical. He’s inviting us to do both, but with peace. It’s about His presence in our day.

    How to apply:

    • Reflect weekly: What’s one area where I’m striving in stress instead of serving in peace?
    • Say “yes” to help. Let others carry part of the load so you can rest and reset.

    Reminder: Replace guilt with grace. Missing devotion time doesn’t “cancel” our day. It reminds us to return.

    Points to ponder:

    1) How do you see yourself; more like Martha or Mary lately?

    2) Am I serving from a place of overflow or overwhelm?

    3) What would it look like to invite Jesus into my daily rhythms?

    We were never meant to carry it all alone.

    Jesus doesn’t ask us to serve from exhaustion. He calls us to serve from overflow. And that overflow starts when we take time to sit at His feet, even if it’s just for five quiet minutes.