The Promises of God (Part 1): Building on What God Has Actually Said

When we talk about the promises of God, we have to begin with something simple but important. Not every verse in the Bible is automatically a personal promise to us in the same way.
That doesn’t make Scripture weaker. It makes it deeper.
This series started because someone told me they wanted to know more about the Promises of God. As I was praying about where to begin, I realized I need to start adding some structure to my posts, not just scattered encouragement. So for this series, I’m using a compiled list of promise verses from The Bible Made Easy for Kids by Dave Strehler as a reference guide for which Scriptures we’ll study. I didn’t curate that list myself, but I will be teaching through each promise directly from the Bible using the correct context.
We’re going to talk about every single one of those promises at least once. Not speeding through them. Slowly. Carefully. Biblically.
And before we can get into specific promises, we need to lay a firm foundation.

A Promise That Started Under the Stars

One of the earliest covenant promises in Scripture is found in Genesis 15:5, when God tells Abraham to look up at the sky and count the stars if he can. Then He says, “So shall they seed be.”
Abraham didn’t have children yet. Sarah was barren. Years had already passed. From a strictly human perspective, it didn’t look very realistic to either one of them.
But the promise wasn’t dependent on Abraham’s biology, or even Sarah’s. It was dependent on God’s faithfulness.
That distinction matters.
The promise to Abraham was specific to him as part of God’s covenant plan that ultimately pointed to Christ. Not every promise in Scripture is universal in the same way. Some are specific. Some are conditional. Some are universal for all believers.
So how do we know which is which?
We study context.
We read carefully and intentionally.
We let Scripture interpret Scripture.
And we remember this anchor truth from 2 Corinthians 1:20:

“For no matter how many promises God has made, they are ‘Yes’ in Christ.”

Every true promise of God finds its fulfillment in Jesus.
That’s the lens we will look through for this entire series.

Why This Matters

I learned something about God’s promises while waiting almost two years for my disability to be approved. I kept reminding myself that God’s timing is perfect, but if I’m being 100% transparent, I struggled. A lot. There were days I felt patient and surrendered, and there were days I felt frustrated and doubted.
Waiting has a way of testing whether we trust God’s character or just prefer quick answers.
Ecclesiastes 3:11 says that He makes everything beautiful in His time. That doesn’t me we always understand the timing, but it does mean He isn’t careless or late.
God’s promises don’t expire because we’re tired. They don’t unravel because we stumble. They rest on who He is.
That’s what we’re building on.
In the next post, we’ll begin studying the first specific promise from our list and walk through it carefully in the correct context. By the end of this series, we’ll have talked about every promise on the list at least once.
We’re not just collecting comforting verses. We’re learning how to stand on God’s Word correctly.

To help us walk through this intentionally instead of casually, I’ve created a simple study tracker you can use as we move through each promise together.

Promises of God TrackerDownload

Jesus Didn’t Throw Stones

I know Jelly Roll’s story. His past isn’t a secret. Drug dealing. Prison. Mental health battles. Years of brokenness lived out loud. So when I watched him stand on a national stage at the Grammys and boldly give glory to God, I didn’t see a performance. I saw a man on fire for Jesus. I saw sincerity. I saw passion. I saw a belief that ran deeper than anything for him in that moment. And it brought me to tears.
There was something holy about watching someone who knows where they came from openly testify about where God is taking them. It reminded me that God doesn’t wait for us to be cleaned up before He starts working. He meets us in the middle of the mess and begins transforming us from the inside out.
Then the next day came, and with it, a heartbreak I wasn’t expecting. I watched people who openly identify as Christians publicly tear him down. Not with discernment. Not with gentleness. But with judgment. The words that cut the deepest were people declaring that he isn’t a “real Christian.” As if that authority belongs to us. Scripture is clear that only Jesus sees the heart. Only Jesus knows the depth of someone’s repentance, sincerity, and relationship with Him. We don’t get to stand in that place.
This kind of public shaming damages the witness of Christianity more than we often realize. It paints believers as self-righteous and condemning, more eager to throw stones than to celebrate growth. For those who are curious about faith, new to church, or returning from a long time away, it sends a clear message: if you don’t fit a certain mold, you won’t be welcome here.
I know that fear personally. The visible tattoos on my body made me deeply hesitant to walk back into a church. I worried about how I would be perceived before anyone ever knew my heart. Even now, I sometimes second-guess choices like wearing makeup, jewelry, or pants, or dying my hair, despite having carefully studied the Bible on those things. Judgment has a way of lingering long after the words stop.
Scripture gives us a clear picture of how Jesus responds in moments like this. In John 8, a woman caught in adultery is dragged before Him, surrounded by people eager to condemn her. Jesus doesn’t deny that sin exists, but He refuses to join the mob. He tells them that whoever is without sin may throw the first stone. One by one, they walk away. Jesus, the only one qualified to condemn her, chooses mercy instead. “Neither do I condemn you,” He says. “Go and sin no more.”
That story reveals the heart of Christ. Grace first. Truth always. Condemnation withheld by the only one who had the right to give it.
If we have received that kind of grace, we are called to extend it.
Being Christlike means applauding growth and leaving the past where Jesus already buried it. It means being careful not to turn personal convictions into universal rules unless Scripture clearly supports them. When something can’t be supported by Scripture, we need the humility to say so, or we risk drifting into legalism disguised as holiness.
As representatives of Christ, our words should reflect His heart. We are called to speak with love, truth, grace, and humility, never with condemnation, hatred, or self-righteousness.
The body of Christ needs to remember that every one of us has sinned. The only perfect man is the one we are waiting for to return. No one stands above anyone else. When someone reads a Christian post and its comments or walks into a church, they should feel welcomed, loved, and embraced like family, not inspected or shamed.
If Jesus were standing here today, I believe His heart would be very heavy. Not because sinners are seeking Him imperfectly, but because His children are wounding one another in His name. Grace was never meant to be guarded like a private treasure. It was meant to be poured out, just as it was poured out on us.

Everything the Light Touches: Seeing God’s Truth Beyond our Comfort Zones

Would you rather listen than read?

I was sitting quietly, typing Scripture as part of my goal to type out the entire Bible, when I came across Genesis 13:14-15. As I read God’s promise to Abram, something unexpected happened. My mind immediately jumped to The Lion King and that familiar scene where Mufasa tells Simba that his kingdom will be “everything the light touches.”
And I had to smile, because apparently Disney has been sneaking theology into my childhood for years.
But the more I sat with it, the more something deeper settled in my heart. God’s truth has a way of showing up everywhere, often in places we don’t expect. That realization helped me understand why I’ve always felt reluctant to accept the idea that Christians must completely shut themselves off from all secular movies, music, or media in order to be faithful.
God doesn’t suddenly stop being God outside of explicitly Christian spaces.
Genesis 13:14-15 says, “Lift up your eyes and look from the place where you are…for all the land that you see I will give to you and to your offspring forever.” God invited Abram to look. To observe. To see. Not to fear what was before him, but to trust the God who was leading him.
That moment clarified something important for me: I can’t allow other people’s convictions to become my rulebook. Scripture shows us that God convicts His children individually, according to His plans and purposes for their lives. What the Holy Spirit convicts one believer to abstain from may not be the same for another, and that doesn’t make either one less faithful.
This doesn’t mean boundaries don’t matter. They absolutely do.
I’m not saying Christians shouldn’t have personal boundaries when it comes to what they watch, listen to, or allow their children to be exposed to. Discernment is essential. Wisdom is necessary. But discernment is not the same thing as fear, and wisdom is not the same thing as blanket rejection.
Sometimes, as Christians, we reject things too quickly simply because they are labeled “of the world,” without taking the time to test them through Scripture and prayer. Yet Scripture calls us to do exactly that.
1 Thessalonians 5:21 tells us, “Test everything; hold fast what is good.”
It doesn’t say to reject everything immediately. It says to test it. To examine it. To discern what is worth holding onto.
Jesus also warned us about quick judgments. In Matthew 7:1, He said, “Judge not, that you be not judged.” That doesn’t remove discernment, but it does caution us against assuming our personal convictions must apply universally to every believer.
This becomes especially important when we think about our children.
As Christian parents, we aren’t just raising kids who follow rules. We’re raising future adults who will have to make their own decisions. If all we teach them is what they’re not allowed to watch or listen to, without teaching them how to discern why, we just leave them unprepared to steward the free will God has given them.
We need to teach our children how to ask better questions:
Is this honoring God?
Is this drawing me closer to Him or pulling me away?
What does Scripture say?
Have I prayed about it?
One of the clearest examples of God shining through in the secular world is the song “He Lives in You” from the Broadway production of The Lion King. There are lines in the song that say, “He lives in you, He lives in me,” and “He watches over everything we see.” Every time I hear those words, my mind immediately goes to God.
The song speaks about presence, guidance, legacy, and something greater watching over what has been entrusted to us. While the writers may not have intended it as worship, those themes echo Scripture so clearly that it naturally turns my heart toward God rather than away from Him.
God’s truth isn’t fragile. It doesn’t disappear when we step outside of our comfort zones. When we’re rooted in Scripture, prayer, and discernment, we don’t have to hide from the world. We can engage with it wisely.
Everything the light touches belongs to Him.

Slowing Down in a Loud World: A Call to Discernment

Disclaimer:
This reflection is not intended to tell anyone what conclusions they should reach about current events. It is not written to stir outrage or to promote a political position. My purpose is to call believers back to Scripture, prayer, and discernment in a time when emotions are high and information moves quickly.

Would you rather listen than read?

We live in a time when reactions are immediate, emotions are intense, and discernment is often sacrificed for speed.
Recent events involving immigration enforcement, public protests/riots, and even a church being disrupted during its Sunday service have stirred strong responses in people. Opinions are forming quickly, posts are being shared rapidly, and narratives are spreading before many have even taken the time to pause, pray, and seek clarity.
What troubles me most right now isn’t just what’s happening, but how we’re responding. Emotional reactions, coupled with a lack of prayer and discernment, are allowing misinformation to spread like wildfire. Once misinformation takes hold, it fuels fear, division, and confusion, and the cycle just keeps repeating.
Scripture warns us about this kind of hastiness.
Proverbs 18:13 says, “If one gives an answer before he hears, it is his folly and shame.”
God calls his people to listen before responding. In a culture that rewards speed, Scripture reminds us that wisdom begins with hearing.
Ecclesiastes 5:2 reinforces this posture: “Be not rash with your mouth, nor let your heart be hasty to utter a word before God.”
Before we speak publicly, before we share or react, God invites us to come before Him first. Prayer is meant to guide our responses, not follow them.
This matters because Scripture is clear about where our trust should be placed.
Jeremiah 17:5 says, Thus says the Lord: ‘Cursed is the man who trusts in man and makes flesh his strength, whose heart turns away from the Lord.'”
This applies to all people. Media figures, politicians, activists, influencers, and even church leaders. None of them are meant to be our final authority. When we take information at face value simply because it comes from a confident or familiar voice, we risk shifting our trust from God to man.
This is something I’ve had to confront personally.
I’ve caught myself reacting quickly. I’ve had to slow down, research claims instead of just repeating them, and ask God to give me a clear mind to discern what’s true and what might just be a lie of the enemy. That process has required humility and intentional prayer.
The goal here isn’t agreement.
The goal is discernment.
Believers aren’t called to think identically, but we are called to seek God faithfully. Slowing down to pray and discern, even if we land somewhere different, honors God far more than reacting emotionally without wisdom.
James 1:5 reminds us, “If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given to him.”
Discernment is a gift God is willing to give when we ask.
We also have to recognize the spiritual battle beneath the surface. The enemy thrives on division because division creates vulnerability. When believers are divided and reactive, confusion spreads more easily.
My prayer is simple.
That we would slow down.
That we would pray for wisdom before speaking.
That we would test what we hear rather than absorb it uncritically.
That we would ask the Holy Spirit to guard our hearts and sharpen our discernment.
These are trying times, but they’re also refining times. Discernment isn’t optional for the believer. It’s essential.

To support this reflection, I’ve created a simple “Pause, Pray, Discern” checklist you can download and use before reacting, reposting, or forming a strong opinion. My prayer is that it helps create space for wisdom, Scripture, and discernment when emotions are running high.

Pause-Pray-Discern_Checklist_Rooted-in-Grace-and-FaithDownload

When Silence Clarifies the Calling

PREFER TO LISTEN INSTEAD OF READ?

There’s been a quiet stretch here, and that silence wasn’t accidental.

Over the past several weeks, I stepped back from posting, not because the vision faded, but because God was doing deeper work beneath the surface. During this time, I was nurturing my new role as a children’s ministry leader at church, learning how to shepherd little hearts with patience, wisdom, and love. I was also doing something equally important but less visible: self-reflection.

I spent time asking hard questions. Questions that don’t come from insecurity, but from discernment.

Questions like:

How will I respond to negativity this year in a way that actually reflects Christ?

Am I walking in obedience, or am I chasing validation?

Is Rooted in Grace and Faith a calling…or just a desire to be seen?

Those questions required stillness. And stillness requires silence.

As I leaned into Scripture and prayer, I felt the Holy Spirit gently but firmly press on my heart. Not with condemnation, but with conviction. Conviction that this space, this ministry, this journey was never meant to be about visibility. It was meant to be about obedience.

I realized something important. If this had only been a personal project or a creative outlet, walking away quietly would have been easy. I could have closed the tab, moved on, and felt no weight about it. But the longer I stayed silent, the heavier that conviction became. Not guilt. Conviction.

And that was confirmation.

Conviction doesn’t come from ego. It comes from calling.

God wasn’t asking me to post more. He was asking me to return obediently. To speak again, not because I had everything perfectly figured out, but because obedience doesn’t wait for perfection. It responds to the nudge.

This season of quiet refined my motives. It reminded me that ministry often grows underground before it ever bears visible fruit. That tending to children, guarding my heart, and learning how to respond biblically to criticism and negativity are all part of the same calling. None of it is wasted. None of it is separate.

Rooted in Grace and Faith still exists for the same reason it always has: to point hearts back to Jesus, to walk honestly through faith, and to choose obedience even when it feels uncomfortable or unseen.

If you’ve been quiet lately, too, if you’ve stepped back to listen more closely, know this: silence doesn’t mean you’ve missed your calling. Sometimes it means God is clarifying it.

I’m stepping forward again, not with grand declarations or promises of consistency, but with a simple yes.

Yes to obedience

Yes to grace.

Yes to continuing the work God has already begun.

Obedience Doesn’t Take Holidays (But Grace Covers Busy Seasons)

Soft sunrise over the horizon representing gratitude and renewed obedience to God.

The past couple of weeks have been very full. Family time, holiday preparations, and the kind of joyful busyness that somehow makes the days disappear faster than expected. Somewhere between celebrating, cooking, and enjoying the people God has placed in my life, my posting rhythm took a short holiday break of its own.

I want to be honest before God. I recognize that I didn’t prioritize intentional time to share His word the way I should have. Not because God is counting posts, but because obedience matters. When God gives a calling, it’s something we steward carefully, even when life gets loud. I brought that conviction to Him with humility, trusting His promise that “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9).

At the same time, tonight is not meant to feel heavy. Tonight is a night of gratitude. The fact that we are here, standing at the close of another year, is evidence of God’s mercy. Scripture reminds us, “It is of the Lord’s mercies that we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not. They are new every morning” (Lamentations 3:22-23). Even busy mornings. Even distracted ones.

With New Year’s Day just around the corner, I’m stepping forward with renewed determination. Not driven by pressure or perfection, but by obedience. A simple, steady yes to the calling God has placed on my life to minister, encourage, and share His Word. Consistency isn’t about never stumbling. It’s about responding when God lovingly redirects our steps. As Scripture says, “The steps of a good person are ordered by the Lord” (Psalm 37:23), even when those steps need gentle correction.

So tonight, we celebrate. “This is the day which the Lord hath made: we will rejoice and be glad in it” (Psalm 118:24). We thank God for another year of life, growth, and grace. And tomorrow, I will show up again. Grateful. Willing. Committed to obedience.

Rest Is Not Weakness. It’s Obedience.

How many times do we say we’re ready to “give it all to God,” and then the very first thing we do at the start of the week is grab our planner and schedule every minute, as if God needs an appointment to interrupt us? We talk about surrender, but our calendars sometimes tell a different story. Somewhere between good intentions and packed schedules, we forget to leave room for God’s plan instead of just asking Him to bless ours.

In Matthew 11:28-30, Jesus doesn’t call the strong, the organized, or the ones who have it all together. He calls the weary. He invites those who are carrying heavy burdens to come to Him and rest. Not to escape responsibility, but to lay down the weight we were never meant to carry alone. He is inviting us to trust Him enough to say, “Here are my problems. I trust you to help me resolve them, and I won’t interfere.” That kind of trust requires surrender, not control.

And this is where many of us get stuck. We confuse preparation with pressure. We place expectations on ourselves and on our circumstances that God never intended for us to have. Being prepared quietly turns into needing to be perfect. Wisdom starts to feel like pressure to have it all together. And striving sneaks into our spiritual routines so subtly that we don’t even notice it at first.

We focus so much on success that pride and comparison creep in. Our prayers slowly shift from intercession to self-focus. instead of compassion, we slide into judgment. Instead of empathy, we compare. And if we’re not careful, our faith begins to feel more like a performance than a relationship.

But God is asking something different from us this week. He’s asking for trust. Daily trust. Trust that begins with a morning prayer of surrender before we surrender the day to our to-do list. Trust that allows space for unplanned moments where the Holy Spirit can guide conversations, decisions, and even interruptions. Trust that listens when God pulls us in a certain direction instead of questioning Him because it wasn’t part of the original plan.

Proverbs 16:3 reminds us to commit our work to the Lord, and Matthew 6:33 calls us to seek first the Kingdom of God. God is not asking us to abandon responsibility. He’s asking us to abandon control. He’s inviting us to live from a place of rest instead of pressure, surrender instead of striving.

Needing to rest doesn’t make you weak. It makes you obedient!

Prayer

Holy Father, we come before you as your faithful servants, ready to serve and ready to surrender. We acknowledge that you are the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end, and the One who orders and guides our steps.

We confess that there are times when we are stubborn and hold tightly to control instead of placing our trust full in you. Thank you for your grace in our moments of doubt and for your patience with us when we struggle to let go. Today, we invite you to take control of our lives in a fresh way.

As you instruct us in your Word, we come to you when we are weary and burdened, trusting that you are faithful to give us rest. Cover us with your peace, and grant us discernment so that we may make godly decisions that honor you. Open our hearts, our minds, and our souls to the guidance of the Holy Spirit, that we may walk in obedience to your will at all times.

We surrender this week to you. Lead us, guide us, and keep us rooted in you.

In the mighty name of Jesus, we pray. Amen.

Rooted in Obedience

When I decided to start this blog, I had a very specific mission in mind. I wanted to be a voice for those who may be wrestling with doubts in their faith or struggling to endure ongoing trials. I write from a place of understanding and humility, not from a place of having it all figured out. My hope is that this space feels honest and relatable, not polished or performative. If you’re walking through your own season of waiting, doubt, or confusion, this is a safe place to grow in your faith without fear of failure or feelings of inadequacy.

Less than a month ago, I was in a completely different season than the one I’m in now. I was in a constant state of worry as I awaited a decision on my disability case, always carrying the weight of uncertainty and finances. After nearly two years of fighting, everything changed the day before Thanksgiving when my disability was finally approved. In that moment, I broke down in tears, thanking God for the blessing He had provided for my family and me. The blessing may have been financial, but the lesson was spiritual.

Before my disability was approved, I returned to teaching Sunday school, something I had stepped away from multiple times before. There were several instances where I was meant to serve as an assistant but ended up stepping into the role of teacher. Eventually, I realized God was calling me to fully commit, rather than pulling back. After a season of prayer and fasting, I felt a clear calling to volunteer for the position of children’s ministry leader, a role I will begin in January.

Even now, I have moments where I don’t feel like showing up, or I fear I won’t succeed in my new leadership role. In those moments, I remind myself that obedience requires trust, not confidence, and that God’s plan is greater than my doubts. While waiting for my disability decision, there were times I was tempted to stop believing or even stop going to church altogether, but I chose to remain faithful. Obedience reshaped my faith by showing me that when we follow God’s plan, we begin to see not only His strength at work, but the capacity He’s placed within us to do His will.

My definition of “blessing” has shifted, focusing less on tangible things, such as money, and more on the spiritual blessing of understanding true obedience and what it means to walk in God’s purpose for our lives. Surrender has reshaped my desires in ways I didn’t expect, and now my deepest desire is simply to please God rather than pursue my own plans. Sometimes we all need to step back and refocus the lens of our lives, turning our attention away from the physical and toward what God is doing in our lives spiritually.

I’m learning that giving up control isn’t losing direction, it’s allowing God to take the lead.

Why Rooted in Grace and Faith Exists

There are many places online where faith is discussed loudly, confidently, and with certainty. But I’ve learned that faith doesn’t always grow that way.

Sometimes faith grows quietly. Slowly. In small, unseen ways. It grows through prayer whispered rather than proclaimed, through Scripture read in moments of weariness, and through choosing to trust God again even when answers feel far away.

Rooted in Grace and Faith exists because I longed for a space like that. A space where faith doesn’t have to be performed or perfected, but can be nurtured gently, grounded in the grace of God.

My own journey with faith has taught me that growth isn’t always obvious. There have been seasons of clarity and seasons of confusion, seasons of strength and seasons where simply remaining rooted felt like the victory. Through all of it, God’s grace has remained steady, faithful, and sufficient.

This blog isn’t about having all the answers. It’s about walking faithfully with God in the everyday moments. It’s about learning to stay rooted in Christ while allowing Him to do His quiet work beneath the surface. It’s about trusting that growth is still happening, even when it feels slow.

Here, you’ll find Scripture-centered reflections, gentle encouragement, and honest faith shared without pressure or pretense. My hope is that this space feels like a place to pause, breathe, and grow at a grace-filled pace.

If you’ve found your way here feeling weary, curious, or simply longing to deepen your walk with God, you are welcome here! You don’t need to rush. You don’t need to arrive. You only need to remain rooted.

“Let your roots grow down into Him, and let your lives be built on Him.”

-Colossians 2:7

Thank you for being here. I’m excited to begin this journey together!