We’re often told to guard our hearts—and for good reason. Our hearts carry our beliefs, emotions, hopes, and wounds. But somewhere along the way, guarding can quietly turn into building walls. There’s a difference between protection and isolation. A guarded heart is discerning. A hardened heart is closed. Guarding your heart doesn’t mean: shutting people out completely becoming cynical or distrustful refusing vulnerability numbing yourself to avoid pain It does mean: setting healthy boundaries being wise about who has access to your inner world pausing before reacting emotionally allowing God to heal what hurt, instead of letting it scar over Hardness often comes from unprocessed pain. When we don’t take wounds to God, we armor up instead. The armor might feel safe, but over time it keeps out joy, connection, and growth along with the hurt. Soft hearts are not weak hearts. They are strong, surrendered, and resilient. A guarded heart stays tender by: checking motives instead of assuming intentions choosing forgiveness without denying boundaries remaining teachable, even after disappointment allowing love again, slowly and wisely Guarding your heart is about stewardship, not fear. It’s choosing to protect what matters while still leaving room for grace, truth, and connection. In what ways have I guarded my heart well? Where might I be hardening instead of healing? What would it look like to stay soft and wise? You don’t have to choose between being protected and being open. With intention and faith, you can do both.

Winter has a way of shrinking our days and stretching our patience. Less light, colder mornings, slower energy — all of it can make spiritual routines feel harder to maintain. But consistency in faith doesn’t require long hours or perfect conditions. It’s built in small, faithful rhythms. Ideas for winter seasons: Short prayers throughout the day Scripture in small portions, not long sessions Quiet moments of gratitude when the day feels heavy Letting rest be part of worship God isn’t measuring how long you show up — only that you do. What small spiritual practice could you commit to during this winter season?

There are seasons when faith feels powerful and alive… and seasons when it feels quiet, heavy, or distant. Real faith isn’t built on emotions alone. Feelings change. Circumstances shift. But faith that endures is rooted in truth, trust, and daily obedience, even when the spark isn’t there. Some reminders for those seasons: Faith is a choice, not just a feeling Showing up still counts, even when you feel empty God is working even in the silence Growth often happens underground before you see it If you’re in a season where feelings have faded, you’re not failing — you’re being strengthened. What helps you stay grounded in your faith when emotions aren’t leading the way?

Testimony Sunday is a reminder that God is still moving, still healing, and still transforming lives. Every testimony—big or small—carries power. It reflects God’s faithfulness and encourages others who may be walking through similar seasons. Your story matters. Whether it’s a moment of answered prayer, quiet strength during hardship, restoration after loss, or growth in faith, sharing what God has done can bring hope to someone who needs it today. Testimonies aren’t about perfection—they’re about God’s grace at work in real life. When we speak openly about what He’s done, we glorify Him and strengthen the faith of our community. If you feel led, take a moment to share your testimony. Let’s encourage one another by remembering that we are never alone—and that God’s faithfulness continues, one story at a time. 💛

Loving others is easy when love is returned. But loving the hard to love—the difficult, the frustrating, the ones who challenge our patience—is where faith becomes real. Jesus didn’t call us to love only when it’s comfortable; He called us to love as He loves. Christ showed compassion to those who were misunderstood, rejected, and broken. He loved people who doubted Him, betrayed Him, and opposed Him. This kind of love isn’t rooted in emotion—it’s rooted in obedience, humility, and grace. Loving the hard to love doesn’t mean excusing harmful behavior or ignoring boundaries. It means choosing kindness over resentment, prayer over bitterness, and understanding over judgment. It means asking God for the strength to see others through His eyes, even when it costs us something. This love refines us. It exposes our pride, stretches our patience, and teaches us forgiveness. It reminds us that we, too, have been difficult at times—and yet God’s love for us has never wavered. Today, think of someone you find hard to love. Instead of avoiding them, bring them to God in prayer. Ask Him to soften your heart, give you wisdom, and show you how to love without losing yourself. Loving the hard to love is not easy—but it is powerful. It reflects the heart of Christ and becomes a living testimony of grace in action.