You’ve been here a year and still feel the loneliness like a razor blade: May God’s hand be the one you reach for in the dark, and may you find Him without fail.
The housing market is out of control, but the DOD decides your zip code doesn’t need that BAH increase: May God multiply His provision for you, lavishing you with more than you need so that you can bless others as well.
You are on week three of living in a hotel with 3 kids, a dog, and 14 succulents waiting for a house to become available: May the weather outside those hotel doors be glorious and the sleep inside be abundant, and may this season of waiting transform your heart as you depend wholly on Him.
You’re visiting family 13 hours away, and your neighbor calls you to tell you there is water pouring down your driveway: May the Lord have mercy on your shelves of books and pictures and help you not to cling too tightly to your worldly goods as you store up for yourself treasures in Heaven, where burst water pipes have no power.
Stomach bug + five kids + TAD: May the Lord bring healing, clean towels, friends who drop off soup, and long naps for the whole family as He strengthens your belief that He can supply your every need.
The deployment is extended after all: May the God who delights in you, who has compassion on your disappointed heart, who is present with you in the waiting draw even nearer to you as draw near to Him.
Your college student is seven states away and is not thriving: May the Lord lead you with wisdom and discernment, giving you all the physical and spiritual strength you need to guide and love your child the way your Heavenly Father guides and loves you.
You love this house! And this neighborhood! You found that friend your heart’s been longing for! You have the best job! There are so many fun things to do here! And then he gets early orders to that place the spouses all warn you about: May you feel more gratitude than fear, more peace than anxiety, more hope than dread as you set your expectations on the God who pursues you with His relentless goodness.
He’s been back for a year, and he’s just not getting better. His trauma has become your trauma, too: May God meet you in the midst of the mess, blanketing you with peace and healing, lifting your chin to the love in His face, covering your home and heart with endless mercy, healing, forgiveness, and hope.
You’ve finally got your footing, and you feel like your family is doing well. The peace is so welcome but also alarming, because letting your guard down for even a minute feels like a risk: May you accept God’s invitation to trust Him with the desires of your heart, to cast all your anxieties on Him, and to receive His gift of peace.