Have you ever had this happen to you? Someone comes to you for advice or for comfort for a really difficult situation they’re going through. You know in your mind that it’s a difficult spot to be in, but you don’t know what to say or what comfort to give, because you don’t know what it’s like to be there in your heart. You feel like you’ve let this person down, somehow, because you’ve never had to walk through that situation. It’s not that you don’t care or lack compassion, but you can’t relate, and so the only advice you have to give feels Christianese or half-hearted.

Earlier this week, while I was at school, I got the urge to look back on our old devotions from when we started Soul Deep. Without realizing it, I read one of the devotions that I wrote exactly a year ago from this week. It was called “The Power We Have in Unity” and I focused on the story of Joshua and the tumbling of the walls of Jericho. As I read my old devotional, I was so encouraged by it. It was almost like I couldn’t believe that I wrote it. After reading a few, God reminded me that we are still growing into new seasons, and as that happens, it’s important to appreciate where we once were and continue to grow from it.

Sure, James. Easier said than done. That’s always what I think when I hear the above verses. The fact of the matter is, no one wants to talk about suffering much less go through it. And let’s face it: it’s always going to be easy for people who have never walked through your same test to tell you to delight in the fact that you’re being tested. It’s always going to be our first, knee-jerk reaction to say, “Well, it’s easy for you to say, because you’re not living with this trainwreck of a situation.”

I have struggled with my strong personality that can at times be prickly like this pineapple. When I gave my life to the Lord, I knew I needed to change. Big changes happened in the beginning. Old habits just fell off– smoking, bad language, drinking in excess. Other things changed slowly; I developed new habits. I started to listen to different music. I started reading my Bible, praying more, attending small groups, making new friends, etc. Who I was– my personality– remained.

We are back in Romans this week and I’m so excited to keep examining what God is trying to speak to us through this series. In the past two devotionals I’ve done in Romans, we have focused on the hope we have in Jesus and the limitless grace we have received through our salvation.

“Cortney, I don’t know how I can keep doing this. I just feel like nothing is happening.”“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. Mostly, it seems like God forgot about me.”“I don’t know where God is, but every time I try to sit with Him, He’s silent.” These are variations of things I’ve been hearing a lot lately from my friends and confidants. And maybe I’m a broken record, but I feel like I’ve been saying the same thing in response to it all: Sit still with Jesus. Don’t say anything. Don’t do anything but be with Him.

Have you ever received a word you knew was straight from God? And I’m not talking about kinda, sorta, maybe. I’m talking about a promise so without a doubt that it had to have come straight from the mouth of Jesus. I received a word like that earlier this year. I came from a very close friend who was praying over me during a worship night. As she prayed, she became thoughtfully silent, and then looked at me and said, “I don’t know why Jesus wants me to say this. I don’t really know where it’s coming from either, but He wants you to know that your heart will never be broken again.”

I’m hoping all of you got the chance to read Cortney’s devotion on Tuesday, and if you didn’t, please read it first and come back to this after. One of the things I love about this platform God has given us to minister to others is that God speaks to me so much through it and through Cortney as my Soul Deep partner. The past few days I have been facing a lot at once. I was truly so overwhelmed and my trust in God was really being put to the test. Honestly, the past couple days have been the hardest that I think I’ve ever faced. I felt like I had to make every big life decision in one day, and if you’ve ever been there, you’ll know that that will make you question your trust in what God’s doing in your life.

Yes, I’m still on my Isaiah 43 kick. I just can’t help it. Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve just been sitting in it and really searching it. The things that the Lord has been teaching me and showing me have been so precious and refreshing to my heart. Basically, the whole chapter is God proving Himself and reminding Israel who He is– reminding His people of their worth, reminding His people of how much He loves them, reminding them of His absolute and sovereign power, and reminding them of what He’s done in the past in the name of that love.

Growing up, I had very few worries. I was always that happy, go-lucky kid who just wanted to have fun and enjoy life with friends and family. My mom even told me of a time in a store parking lot, where I was walking and flailing my arms around without a care in the world. Before she could stop me, I went up to a random man and wished him a happy birthday. I had no idea if it was the man’s birthday, but that didn’t stop me. That was who I was.

Over the past week, I’ve been following a devotion through Isaiah 43, asking questions that both cause me to read between the lines and give me pause to listen to what God has to say about this beautiful love letter in scripture. And in this passage, God addresses one of the most common yet subjective, sneaky yet guttural emotions in the human experience: Fear.

If you’ve ever seen a picture of Cape Town, chances are you’ve noticed Table Mountain, a gigantic, flat-topped mountain that provides the backdrop to hands-down my favorite city on the planet. Back in 2015, I was living, going to school, and serving on a missions trip in the mother city, when my mom and grandma surprised me with a 10-day visit. By that time, I had been there for months, and I had climbed other mountains, but I hadn’t yet gone to the summit of one of the seven natural wonders of this world.

Lately, I’ve been reading through Romans and truly loving every minute of it. Each chapter and verse has so much depth and meaning and has encouraged me to draw nearer to God in all I do, and this morning want to share what I’ve been finding with you. I want you to take a moment to let yourself think of the worst thing you’ve done– the biggest amount of shame you’ve ever felt. Remember those feelings you may have felt of regret, unworthiness, or embarrassment. Try to feel the weight it put upon your shoulders; the burden it may of caused you.

Hey Pops, Lately, you’ve been teaching me a lot about patience, and it feels like I’ve been waiting on all fronts. A quick scroll through social media puts me under the microscope with false expectations of what my peers think I should have by now: a wild career in corporate America, a gleaming engagement ring on my finger, tons of stamps in my passport, or a trendy apartment somewhere. All things that read success and happiness to the uninvolved, near-sighted bystander, yet all are empty endeavors without the fullness of you behind it.

Life can be super discouraging; we all know that first-hand. There are things that we hope for, places we dream of going and things we long to do, and sometimes, things just don’t turn out the way we expect. Hope isn’t something that comes naturally to us. It’s like trust, it needs to be built and exercised. Trying to build trust in a rocky relationship that isn’t necessarily good for you is challenging and usually doesn't work. But when you build trust with someone that genuinely cares about you and your feelings, it becomes a firm relationship that you can rely on.

Heartbroken. What a devastating word to attach to oneself. And in a day and age where we so fiercely guard our hearts and treat things like love and trust like it’s a privilege to bestow only on those closest to us, a word like heartbroken almost feels like an admission to carelessness or weakness. We act like it’s something to be ashamed of; like it’s something to hide.