The Prayer Porch

Tag: god

  • Understanding Grace: A Biblical Perspective on Rejoicing

    Understanding Grace: A Biblical Perspective on Rejoicing

    Grace is not a small or quiet thing in Scripture. In Romans 5, Paul tells us that grace does more than save us – it reorients what we rejoice in.

    Because of Christ, we are no longer enemies brought near by our own effort. “While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” Grace is God’s initiative, not our achievement. And because of that, our rejoicing is not rooted in self-confidence, but in His work alone.

    Paul uses a word that feels almost startling: to boast.

    The Greek word kauchēma (kow-khay-mah) means to glory in, to rejoice over, to take pride in. It’s not the loud, self-centered boasting we often think of but a settled confidence that rests in something sure. Grace gives us something holy to boast in: what Christ has done, not what we have accomplished.

    This kind of rejoicing doesn’t ignore suffering or sin. It looks directly at them and still stands firm.

    James echoes this posture when he writes, “Consider it pure joy whenever you face trials of many kinds” (James 1:2). That word joy comes from chara (khar-ah), meaning deep gladness, great joyfulness. It’s not a denial of pain, but a trust that God is present and working within it.

    James also warns of a divided heart – a double-mindedness that keeps us unstable (James 1:8). Grace invites us into wholeness. It calls us to live with one steady gaze: not fixed on the chaos of the world, but on the faithfulness of God.

    And yes – we live in a world saturated with sin, confusion, and noise. But grace is not weakened by darkness. Paul reminds us that where sin increased, grace increased all the more. Grace does not excuse sin – it overcomes it.

    For the believer today, living in grace looks like this:

    • Rejoicing without pretending life is easy
    • Boasting only in the Lord’s mercy, not our own strength
    • Choosing joy that is rooted, not reactive
    • Remaining tender-hearted without becoming double-minded

    Grace teaches us how to stand – humble, confident, and deeply anchored in a broken world.

    This is the quiet beauty of grace: it doesn’t make us loud; it makes us secure.

    Lord,
    Thank You for grace that met us when we were far off
    and continues to meet us each day where we are.
    Teach us to rejoice not in ourselves,
    but in Your mercy, Your faithfulness, and Your finished work.

    In a world filled with noise, temptation, and division,
    anchor our hearts in truth.
    Help us live with steady joy – not shallow happiness,
    but the deep joy that comes from trusting You.

    May our lives quietly boast in what You have done,
    and may grace shape how we walk, speak, and love.
    We rest in You today.
    Amen.

  • God’s Promise: Life from the Valley of Dry Bones

    God’s Promise: Life from the Valley of Dry Bones

    There’s a moment in the book of Ezekiel that feels as honest as any human experience: the valley of dry bones. God leads Ezekiel into a place filled with what once had been alive – scattered remains, brittle and silent. Then God asks him, “Son of man, can these bones live?”

    Ezekiel answers the only way he can: “Lord, You alone know.”
    It’s a whisper of faith from someone staring at something that looks completely hopeless.

    We all have seasons like that.
    Times when our hearts feel tired and our purpose feels distant.
    Our prayers feel like they echo in an empty valley.

    There are days we wake up and feel hollowed out by stress, disappointment, grief, or sheer exhaustion. Moments where we feel spiritually thin – like the “us” we used to be has slipped away.

    And just like those dry bones, we wonder if anything can live again.

    But God speaks into that emptiness. He tells Ezekiel to prophesy to the bones, to call them to hear the word of the Lord. And as Ezekiel speaks, something miraculous happens:

    Bone begins to find bone.
    Sinews and flesh form.
    And finally, God breathes His Spirit – the holy breath – into them.
    And where death once lay, a living army rises.

    This story is more than an ancient vision; it’s a promise.

    🌬️ God still breathes life into the dry places.

    Into the places we’ve abandoned.
    Into the wounds we’ve tried to hide.
    Into the dreams we let go of because we were too tired to keep hoping.

    What does this look like in daily life?

    Sometimes it’s the moment you feel a spark of purpose after weeks of numbness.
    Sometimes it’s a gentle conviction “Call that person – try again – pray one more time.”
    Sometimes it’s the strength to get out of bed with a fresh sense of “maybe today.”
    Sometimes it’s tears that finally fall, clearing the ground for healing.
    Sometimes it’s a reminder that God isn’t finished with your story.

    Life returning doesn’t always come as a thunderclap.
    Most of the time, it comes as a quiet stirring.
    A small breath.
    A whisper that says, “I am with you.”

    As the world around us settles into rest, maybe we can sit on the porch with this gentle truth:

    God never leaves us in the valley.
    He meets us there.
    He speaks to the bones.
    And He breathes new life into what we thought was over.

    Lord, breathe life into the dry places within me.
    Restore what has grown weary.
    Reconnect what has been scattered.
    Revive what feels lost or forgotten.
    Help me trust that no valley is too empty for Your Spirit to fill.
    May Your breath bring strength, hope, and a fresh beginning today.
    Amen.

  • Finding Stillness: Inner Peace on My Back Porch

    Finding Stillness: Inner Peace on My Back Porch

    On my little back porch – The quiet moments come before the world fully wakes. The sunlight spilling gently across the floorboards. The leaves rustling, whispering their morning prayer. This porch has become a sacred space – a threshold between the outer world and the inner one.

    As I settle into that quiet space, I find myself drawn to the life and wisdom of St. Teresa of Ávila, a 16th-century nun, mystic, and reformer whose words still stir hearts centuries later. Teresa’s writings invite us to explore prayer. They also encourage us to delve into the deep interior life. It is that tender meeting place where our soul communes with God.

    In her masterpiece, The Interior Castle, St. Teresa describes the soul as a grand castle made of crystal. It is full of rooms that lead ever inward toward the center. This is the place where God dwells.

    She wrote that many people live only in the outer courtyards, busy and distracted, unaware of the beauty within. The spiritual journey, she said, involves moving deeper into those inner rooms. This is achieved through prayer, humility, and love. These practices help us rest in God’s presence at the very heart of our being.

    That image feels so close to what I experience on the porch. When I quiet my mind and let the noise settle, I can feel myself moving inward. I transition from thought, to breath, to stillness. This brings me closer to the One who loves me completely.

    St. Teresa also compared prayer to watering a garden. At first, she said, it takes effort – drawing water by hand, tending each plant carefully. But over time, as we grow in trust, the garden begins to water itself through rain – grace freely given.

    In her words:

    “The soul is like a garden, and the Lord delights to walk among its flowers.”

    Maybe our porch time is like that early watering. These are quiet moments when we show up weary or hopeful. We trust that something beautiful is being tended in us, even when we can’t yet see it blooming.

    🪷 How to Pray Like Teresa

    Here are a few simple ways to bring her spirit to your own porch:

    1. Begin with Stillness
    Sit quietly. Notice your breath. Let the outer rooms of your mind settle. You don’t need to do anything – just be present.

    2. Offer Humble Prayer
    Teresa reminds us that humility is the doorway to God’s love. Speak simply, as if to a dear friend. Tell Him your joys, your weariness, your longing.

    3. Rest in Silence
    After speaking, stay a moment longer. Don’t rush away. This is the heart of prayer – the space where words end and presence begins.

    Perhaps the porch – that small, humble space between inside and out – is a reflection of Teresa’s inner castle. It’s where heaven meets earth, where our busyness softens into prayer.

    Today, you don’t have to find perfection in your spiritual life. Just step into the next “room.” Move a little deeper into your own heart. Trust that God is already waiting there.

    Lord,
    Teach me to enter the quiet places of my heart.
    Help me to water the garden of my soul with gentle trust.
    May I meet You there in stillness and simplicity. Let me learn to rest in Your love. Teresa did this, faithful and free.
    Amen.

    Which “room” of your inner life are you being invited into today — stillness, trust, surrender, or joy?

  • Finding Peace in Uncertain Times

    Finding Peace in Uncertain Times

    It’s no secret that life in America feels unsettled right now. The news is heavy, conversations can quickly become divided, and many of us carry quiet worries about the future. It’s hard not to feel the tension.

    Even in seasons like this, there are places of steadiness we can return to. These include kindness, listening, and the simple act of being present with one another. These aren’t small things. They are bridges that help us move beyond the noise and back toward our shared humanity.

    Scripture reminds us of peace for those who walk in faith. It says, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you” (John 14:27). For all of us, peace can become a practice. No matter our background, we can choose calm when everything around us feels uncertain.

    The world around us can feel shaky. Slowing down is important. Choosing how we respond can be a quiet act of courage. A kind word, a pause before reacting, or even taking time away from screens to rest – these choices matter. They remind us that while we can’t control everything, we can nurture peace within ourselves and offer it to others.

    A Porch Reflection ✨

    When was the last time you felt truly steady – even for just a moment? What helped you feel that way, and how might you return to it this week?

    End your day by naming one way you showed kindness, however small.

    Take a break from headlines today. Step outside, notice the air, the light, the quiet.

    Before a conversation that might feel tense, pause and remind yourself: “This person has fears and hopes, just like me.”

    Some families and communities find it helpful to have a prayer bowl on the coffee table. They place it in a room where they gather to pray. Whenever someone asks for prayer, they write the request on a little piece of paper. They put the paper in the bowl. When it’s time for morning or evening prayer, each person can take a few slips of paper from the bowl. They read the requests. This is also a good way to remember people we don’t see every day. We can think of children in war zones. We should also consider victims of human trafficking.

    We may not solve every challenge in our nation overnight. Together, we can create circles of peace. And when those circles overlap – porch by porch, heart by heart – something steadier begins to grow.



  • Finding Light in Darkness: The Power of Gratitude

    Finding Light in Darkness: The Power of Gratitude

    From the outside, life can look picture-perfect. Smiles for the camera. A clean, orderly home. The perfect pictures on social media. Work always done on time.The likes and followers suggest everything is going just right.

    But underneath, many of us carry quiet struggles. These are worries that never make it into a post. They are heartbreaks that can’t be captured in a story. Darkness often lingers in the unseen places of our lives. We have worries that don’t show up in the photos. We endure heartbreaks that can’t be seen in a passing conversation. Darkness often lingers in the unseen places of our lives.

    And yet, it is often in those hidden shadows that God meets us most tenderly.

    “Even the darkness will not be dark to You;
    the night will shine like the day,
    for darkness is as light to You.”
    — Psalm 139:12

    Joyce Meyer, a well-known Bible teacher and author, has shared openly about her painful past. She experienced abuse, brokenness, and years of inner turmoil. Even after becoming a Christian, she struggled with anger, shame, and fear. Yet through it all, she has often spoken about the practice of gratitude. She chooses to thank God in the middle of the mess. She discovered that gratitude changes perspective: it doesn’t always erase the darkness, but it reminds us of the Light.

    Mother Teresa was remembered for her radiant smile and tireless love for the poor. She carried an unseen heaviness of spirit for many years. Even when she felt distant from God, she continued her daily rhythms of prayer and service. Gratitude, for her, was often found in the smallest things. It was food for the hungry and the touch of a hand. It was the chance to serve “Jesus in disguise” in the poor.

    Their lives remind us that struggle does not mean failure. It is part of being human. And gratitude, even in darkness, can open our eyes to God’s nearness.

    Maybe your life looks fine on the outside. On the inside, you’re carrying questions, grief, or a weight that feels too heavy to name. You’re not alone. God does not turn away from the darkness within us; He enters it. He walks with us there.

    And sometimes, the simple act of giving thanks in the dark becomes a lantern of hope. Living gratitude looks different for everyone. A few ideas might look like:

    • Gratitude journaling: Write down 3 small things each day you’re thankful for. These can be simple pleasures like a warm cup of coffee. It could be the sound of rain or a text from a friend.
    • Breath prayers of thanks: Whisper “Thank You, Lord” as you breathe in and out, naming one gift in the moment.
    • Porch pause: Step outside, notice one piece of creation around you, and thank God for it.

    These small acts of gratitude don’t deny the darkness – they invite God’s light into it.

    Lord, You see the struggles I hide. You know the shadows I carry. Teach me to give thanks even here, in the middle of the night. Let gratitude become a lantern to guide me, until I see the fullness of Your light. Amen.

    As evening settles, the last light fades. I sit on the porch and watch as the stars start to glow. They were there all along, unseen in the brightness of day. Gratitude feels like that, too – reminding us of blessings we couldn’t see until the darkness fell. And perhaps that’s how it is with God. His light is never gone. It simply shines differently in our darkest hours. 🌙✨

  • Trusting Jesus for True Security

    Trusting Jesus for True Security

    When I look around at our world today, I see so much fear, division, and mistrust. For many, guns feel like security, like the only way to be safe in a world gone mad. But when I sit quietly with Jesus, I am reminded that He offers us a very different picture of peace.

    The prophet Isaiah spoke these words long ago:

    “He shall judge between the nations. He shall decide disputes for many peoples. They shall beat their swords into plowshares. Their spears shall become pruning hooks. Nation shall not lift up sword against nation. They shall not learn war anymore.”
    — Isaiah 2:4

    It’s a vision of a world no longer shaped by violence, but transformed by the presence of God. Tools of destruction are remade into tools for growth and life.

    I know the conversation about guns is complicated. People carry deep convictions, and I don’t pretend to have all the answers. But I believe Jesus calls us not into fear, but into faith. Not into grasping for control, but into trusting His protection. Not into arming ourselves for battle, but into laying down our weapons and lifting up our prayers.

    On the porch today, I imagine what our world would look like. What if we trusted Jesus enough to live into Isaiah’s vision? What if we spent less time stockpiling for safety, and more time sowing seeds of peace? What if our courage did not come from what we carry in our hands? Instead, what if it came from Who we carry in our hearts?

    Jesus told us, “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God.” (Matthew 5:9). Peacemaking takes more bravery than violence ever will. It involves stepping out of the cycle of fear. We entrust ourselves to the One who conquered death not with a sword, but with a cross.

    Lord Jesus, You are the Prince of Peace. Teach us how to lay down our weapons. These weapons can be of any kind. Help us live as people of faith, not fear. Give us courage to be peacemakers in our homes, our communities, and our world. May Your kingdom come, where swords become plowshares and guns are no longer needed. Amen.

  • Hope Amid Chaos: Lessons from Corrie Ten Boom

    Hope Amid Chaos: Lessons from Corrie Ten Boom

    The world feels heavy these days. The headlines are noisy. Politics are divisive. It can be hard to find hope when fear and anger seem to dominate the landscape. But history reminds us that God’s Spirit has never stopped producing fruit even in the most barren times.

    One woman who lived this truth was Corrie Ten Boom. During World War II, she and her family hid Jews in their Dutch home. They risked everything out of obedience to Christ. When discovered, Corrie and her sister Betsie were sent to Ravensbrück concentration camp, a place of unimaginable cruelty. Yet even there, the light of the Holy Spirit shone through Corrie’s life.

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

    • Love: She risked her life for strangers, showing Christ’s love in action.
    • Joy: She rejoiced over a smuggled Bible and sang hymns in secret, finding joy where none seemed possible.
    • Peace: In the face of terror, she clung to God’s promises and became a calm presence for others.
    • Patience: She endured long days of hunger and suffering with steadfast trust.
    • Kindness: She extended compassion to fellow prisoners, even when she had nothing to give.
    • Goodness: She chose what was right, even when it was costly.
    • Faithfulness: Her trust in Christ held firm through persecution.
    • Gentleness: She cared for the wounded and brokenhearted, reflecting Christ’s tenderness.
    • Self-control: After the war, she chose forgiveness over bitterness even toward her captors.

    In times like these, when division seems louder than unity, it’s easy to wonder if anything good can take root. Yet Corrie Ten Boom’s life reminds us that the Spirit’s fruit is not limited by the landscape. It often grows brightest in dark soil.

    Her life is proof that the Spirit’s work is stronger than the world’s brokenness. If fruit bloom in a concentration camp, it can bloom in today’s troubled times too.

    The call for us might not be to get swept up in the world’s chaos. Instead, it is to quietly and faithfully let the Spirit tend our hearts. To bear love where there is hate. Joy where there is despair. Peace where there is unrest.

    “Lord, help us to live as Corrie did, with courage, forgiveness, and hope. Cultivate the fruits of Your Spirit within us. In the chaos of today’s world, that others will taste and see that You are good.”

    As I write, the sky outside feels unsettled – clouds moving quickly, the air heavy with change. Maybe you’ve felt that way too, watching today’s world unfold. Here on the porch, a cup of tea warms my hands. The birds start their evening song. I am reminded that God still tends His garden. The Spirit is still at work.

    May we be like small trees planted by living water, steady and fruitful, no matter what storms rage around us. 🌿🍃

  • Understanding God’s True Nature: Love and Holiness

    Understanding God’s True Nature: Love and Holiness

    Pull up a chair for a moment. Let’s talk about something that quietly shapes the way we live: how we see God.

    In our world today, God is often spoken of in soft, comfortable terms. For some, He’s seen as a distant force. He is like an energy that exists “out there.” This energy doesn’t touch our daily lives. For others, He’s imagined as endlessly permissive – a God who never corrects, only affirms. And for many, He’s optional: one spiritual path among many, something we can adjust to fit our preferences.

    This view of God can feel safe, even convenient. But it often ends up shaping Him into our own image. We make Him smaller, gentler, and more manageable than He truly is.

    The God We Meet in Scripture:

    When we turn to the Bible, though, we meet God. This God is greater than we can imagine. He is also nearer than we can fathom.

    • Holy and Just: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord Almighty” – Isaiah 6:3
      He is holy and just. He is pure and set apart. He is not simply a reflection of ourselves.
    • Loving and Merciful: “God shows his love for us. Christ died for us while we were still sinners.” – Romans 5:8
      His love doesn’t ignore our sin; it redeems it.
    • Personal and Near: “The Lord is close to everyone who calls on him.” – Psalm 145:18
      He is not a distant deity. He listens. He cares. He draws close.
    • Unchanging: “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.” -Hebrews 13:8
      Our culture shifts. Yet, He remains steady and true.
    • Lord and King: The Bible shows us a God before whom we bow, not a God who bends to us.

    This can feel like a tension – God is both infinitely loving and perfectly holy. He welcomes us with open arms, yet He calls us to be transformed.

    How we see God shapes how we live. If we see Him as only a gentle encourager, we might miss His call to holiness. If we see Him as only a strict judge, we might miss His tender love. But when we hold both together, His holiness and His mercy, we truly understand Him. When we hold His majesty and His nearness together, we truly understand Him. This is how we find the fullness of who He really is.

    And in that fullness, our hearts are changed.

  • Finding Peace Through Honest Confession

    Finding Peace Through Honest Confession

    We all carry a quiet weight. It may be the memory of words we wish we hadn’t spoken. It could be actions we wish we could undo. Sometimes, choices leave us burdened with regret. Sometimes that weight lingers like a shadow, reminding us more of our failures than our hopes.

    Confession is one of God’s gifts for lifting that weight.

    For some, especially in the Catholic tradition, confession happens in a sacred space before a priest. For others, it may involve sitting across from a trusted friend. It could mean pouring out honesty onto the pages of a journal. It might also be whispering our hearts openly to God in prayer. At its core, confession is about being real: with God, with ourselves, and sometimes with others.

    Confession Brings Freedom

    When we hold things inside, guilt often grows heavier. But when we speak truth aloud, healing begins. Scripture reminds us:

    If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous. He will forgive us our sins. He will cleanse us from all unrighteousness. ” 1 John 1:9

    Confession is not about shame; it’s about release. It’s about laying down the burden so that we can walk lighter. Confession doesn’t need to be dramatic. It can be as simple as admitting, “I messed up, and I don’t want this to keep me stuck.”
    The act of bringing truth into the light is where change begins.

    With God: A simple prayer – “Lord, I’ve been holding this inside. Please forgive me and help me move forward.”

    With Yourself: Writing in a journal, naming what’s been weighing you down.

    With Others: Choose to be honest with a spouse, friend, or mentor. Allow that honesty to bring healing to the relationship.

    Each of these is a step toward wholeness.

    Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the German pastor and theologian during World War II, wrote deeply about confession in his book Life Together. Bonhoeffer lived under the heavy darkness of Nazi rule. He knew the human tendency to hide weakness and sin out of pride. Yet he insisted that true freedom comes only when we dare to speak honestly to one another.

    He wrote:

    “In confession the break-through to community takes place. Sin demands to have a man by himself. It withdraws him from the community. The more isolated a person is, the more destructive will be the power of sin over him.”

    Bonhoeffer reminds us that confession isn’t simply about admitting what we’ve done wrong. It’s about stepping out of loneliness. It’s about stepping into the healing of light and connection. Confession is not about punishment. It’s about freedom. It’s not about shame. It’s about grace, Wherever you are in your faith journey, confession can be the doorway to peace.

    What is the one small truth you could bring into the light this week? How might this truth help you walk a lighter lighter?

  • Trusting God’s Timing

    Trusting God’s Timing

    “For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.” – Ecclesiastes 3:1

    Life so often feels like a waiting room. We pray, we hope, and yet the answer seems delayed or different from what we imagined. Trusting God’s timing can be one of the hardest lessons of faith.

    Even the saints wrestled with this. One of my favorite examples is St. Hildegard von Bingen. She was a 12th-century woman of great faith. She is now honored as a saint and Doctor of the Church. Early in her life, she received visions that left her uneasy. She wasn’t sure if the experiences were truly from God. The weight of that uncertainty filled her with fear. It also caused her hesitation.

    Instead of keeping her struggle to herself, Hildegard turned to someone she deeply respected: St. Bernard of Clairvaux, a holy monk known for his wisdom. They were separated by distance. Despite this, she reached out through a letter. She shared her anxieties. Should she stay silent or speak about what she had seen? Was this truly God’s call for her life?

    St. Bernard’s reply was simple but steadying. He reminded her that God’s grace was at work within her. His encouragement gave Hildegard the courage she needed to step forward in faith. In time, she embraced her calling and became a trusted counselor to popes, emperors, and countless others.

    Her story reminds us that even when our path feels uncertain, God provides what we need. Sometimes He provides through His Word. Other times, He provides through the quiet nudges of prayer. Often, it is through the wisdom of others He places in our lives. Just as Hildegard leaned on St. Bernard’s encouragement, we too can find strength in a mentor, a pastor, or a trusted friend. They remind us of God’s presence when we are unsure.

    Trusting God’s timing doesn’t mean we never feel anxious or restless. It means we bring those feelings to Him. We must stay open to the ways He uses others to guide and steady us along the way.

    For your reflection:

    Where in your life do you feel caught between waiting and moving forward?
    Who might God have placed around you to encourage you as you learn to trust His timing?

    Lord, help me to rest in the truth that Your timing is always good, even when I cannot see it. Give me patience to wait, courage to trust, and faith to step forward when You call. Amen.