Holding our Breath

The other day I was having coffee with a good friend and mentor, and she told me that lately she feels like she is constantly absorbing more: people’s struggles, their asks, and the steady stream of things to do. She’s realised that what she seeks is to begin to release more —her creative expression, her spiritual gifts, her joy and Godly passion—all things of which I know she has an abundance. Yet I also know what it’s like to be so burdened with a continuous inflow of responsibilities that you have no time to tap into your true, inner calling.

This is especially true of Christian women. We all want to be the Proverbs 31 woman, “She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come…she watches over the affairs of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness” (Proverbs 31: 25,27). However, too often we make the mistake of living out this verse by being constantly busy. Yet there is a difference between being busy, and being productive, especially when it comes to God’s kingdom.

Out of Breath

As we spoke, I immediately recalled something I learnt from a woman who coached me in my running four years ago. When I used to run uphill stretches, I would generally find myself gasping for air and panting, thinking I just needed more oxygen. This is a common body response because when carbon dioxide levels rise, it triggers the urge to breathe faster so we can clear it out and bring in more oxygen. However, what I learnt was that I needed to go against the instinct to breathe faster and instead force the carbon dioxide out through long and steady exhales. As soon as you do this, you will find that your heartbeat will slow down and your breathing will regulate, allowing you to inhale more oxygen in a steady rhythm.

Sometimes in life, I find myself out of breath. When this happens, I know the answer is more of God, but because I’m trudging through a swamp of busyness, I end up trying to squeeze Him in — I read a bite size devotion sitting in my inbox, I try to attend another church meeting, or I listen to worship music while cooking or driving— but it’s hardly replenishing me in the fullness of His presence.

Breathing out: making room for the new

“And no one pours new wine into old wineskins. Otherwise, the new wine will burst the skins; the wine will run out and the wineskins will be ruined. No, new wine must be poured into new wineskins.” Luke 5:37 – 38 NIV

While Jesus was referring to His new covenant replacing the strict religious ways of the Pharisees, we can also interpret this passage for our current, daily lives. We need to renew our spirits by pushing out the old. Like using new wine skins to pour in new wine, the key is pushing the old air out, so that the fullness of God’s “oxygen” can be absorbed. Yet, what is the carbon dioxide in our lives — the things we need to release to make space for new breath?

We discussed this in a women’s group I attend, and I’d like to list just a few examples of what was shared:

• Old thoughts: One of the ladies expressed how she has always believed she’s not creative, but as my friend pointed out, we are all made in His image as creative beings, which can include the little things in life — not just artwork in galleries or written books. Her “carbon dioxide” is the incorrect belief that she is not creative, but with God’s new “oxygen”, she is discovering how she is already creative and can be even more so.
• Wasted time: For many of us in the room, we confessed to being perpetual scrollers on social media. At the end of the day, exhausted and seeking mild entertainment safe in our shells, we lie down and disappear into the social media time warp, where “just five” minutes morphs into two hours, which often means going to bed too late. As one wise woman among us shared, the real discipline isn’t in waking up early to meet with God — it’s in going to bed on time.
• Prideful Habits: I realised that one reason why my to-do pile keeps growing and blocking the things I should do, is not asking for help, even from my own husband. I’ll instead battle forward alone trying to juggle everything and then end up feeling resentful. Because let’s be honest — I’m not the long-suffering servant quietly carrying the world on her shoulders; I’m more like a trumpet of showy huffs and puffs. This is because my reason for “doing everything”, has more to do with pride than it does joyful selflessness.
• Hurt: One of the younger ladies who attended spoke of purging negative thoughts. As Christians we are rightly taught to take captive negative thoughts, and “if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say.” All very true. But sometimes we take this to extremes when we are not even honest with ourselves let alone God, and so past hurts and bitterness fester within us. Sometimes it’s necessary to ‘purge’ of negative feelings by expressing it through journaling or through counsel with a trusted friend.

Breathing in: the replenishing infilling

“Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed.” Mark 1:35 NIV

Jesus models what we need to be doing to experience true relationship with him and the Father. In merely reading this scripture, the longing of my soul is roused by its promise of peace and replenishment. Time with our father needs to be an extended pause. We need a deep inhale of His truth, filling us with the peace of His presence, quietening the hustle of our minds so that we can feel and hear the heart He has for us. Ignited by His spirit, we are more connected to His purpose and we can take on tasks guided by His wisdom and calling on our lives.

“I have filled him with the Spirit of God… to make artistic designs for work in gold, silver and bronze, to cut and set stones, to work in wood, and to engage in all kinds of crafts.” Exodus 31:3–5 NIV

When we breathe in the oxygen of God, not only are we more attuned to His deep love and purpose for us, but He awakens cells within our spiritual body, stirring them into motion, to collide and unite and become vessels for creative thoughts. As we established earlier, we are creative in everything, not only in music, artwork and books. In daily chores we are creative as we create order in our personal admin and household. We are creative in our conversations, as we create new ideas together. We are creative in our thoughts, as we envision a better way for things to be. In all these things the oxygen He provides is our inspiration for the daily creations as well as the larger creative projects, because His essence is creator and we were made in His image: “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth” (Genesis 1:1 NIV).

The Calm Exhale

Once we have cleared our lungs of the excess ‘carbon dioxide’ and drawn a deeper breath of God’s ‘oxygen’, we can exhale with greater calm and ease the things He is wanting us to release into the world. We release creativity to build. We release encouragement to our neighbours. We release joy and testimony to the quiet onlookers on the side. We release ourselves in the way that God is wanting us to be released. We release His light.

Where do we start?

I ask this question without holding an answer. We all walk very different lives and therefore we all have different ways of finding our breathing rhythm. For me, my starting point was to envision what breathing rhythm looks like in my life, and from there, I started listing the things — the excess ‘carbon dioxide’ —that needs to be exhaled from my life in order for me to inhale more of God’s ‘oxygen’.

What is your starting point?

Angela Chiaberta

I am a volunteer blogger with a passion for God and writing. My hope is to help others choose faith – or to walk deeper in their faith – through my own introspections and observations.

The post The Oxygen of God appeared first on Cup of Faith.

I remember one of my favorite things to say to my three older children when they were growing up was: “Be nice.”

Sometimes it felt nearly impossible to get through a day without a major crisis unfolding between two or all three of them. The oldest would often tease the youngest, the second-born (a daughter) would take great delight in getting her two brothers into trouble, and the third-born relished the fact that he had it a bit easier than his two older siblings. Now, with a fourth one that came a full 15 years after our third, you know there is a lot of “you didn’t do that for us” going around.

Well, I confess, there’s truth to that statement, but we learn as we go, don’t we? While we were waiting for our first child to be born, I recall thinking that I would do everything better than everyone else (although I’m not sure why I thought this). I knew how I wanted to raise my child in a certain way that was better than everyone else’s. I was sure that my household would be quiet and peaceful, with the laundry always folded, dinner on the table, and everyone being nice.

Still Working On It

Fast forward 10 years, and I found myself up to my neck in raising children, living abroad, and working as a full-time church planter and community outreach coordinator in Africa. I honestly do not know how I managed to get through those days with my mind still somewhat intact.

The amount of work that goes into running a household in that region of Africa is stupefying. There is no fast food (thankfully), no quick place to shop (you go to the market, which is an all-day ordeal), and keeping the house clean is a whole other post for another day. All of this doesn’t take into account the work of the mission and the church. At the end of every day (much like you, wherever you are), both then and now, I wonder how I made it, continue to make it, and follow my counsel to “be nice.” Honestly, I wasn’t always as nice as I had hoped to be, but I always worked on it and am still working on it!

“Stop being mean, bad-tempered, and angry. Quarreling, harsh words, and dislike of others should have no place in your lives. Instead, be kind to each other, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, just as God has forgiven you because you belong to Christ.”
Ephesians 4:31,32 TLB

Speaking Our Minds and Being Nice

In the current supercharged world of “speaking our minds,” many have forgotten the need for those of us identifying as Christians to just be nice, be kind to each other. Everywhere we look these days, whether online, on TV, in print, or in person, there’s a strong negative current to “speak up for what is right.” We are ambassadors of the Kingdom and our righteous King, but we won’t convince anyone of their need for Christ if our righteousness is covered in ugliness. No matter the situation, Scripture is clear on the matter: we must be nice.

Society has always been ugly, humanity has always been divided, and the church can’t fulfill her mission when she looks, acts, and speaks like the world. Whatever happened to following Jesus’ advice to “Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” Matthew 11:29 NLT

Have you ever noticed how exhausting it is to force change with anger or frustration? I wonder how many ulcers and troubles with high blood pressure could be averted by simply being nice.

Learning the Hard Way

I learned this truth the hard way years ago, serving here on the continent when I saw much hunger, injustice, and unnecessary death. I worked myself to the bone trying to bring about change; no matter how hard I worked, no matter how many hungry and vulnerable children I fed, there were still more than needed to be fed, and despite my valiant efforts, people still went hungry.

I became tired and bitter about my situation and the unfairness of it all, until one day, after sickness forced me to rest, I understood that anything pulling me from Jesus’ yoke that gives me rest is not His will for me. Over time, I began to realize that this fallen world is full of sin, and sin can’t be dealt with on our terms. Anger, frustration, overworking, and self-righteousness pull us away from His way of addressing humanity’s fallen nature by simply being nice. The response of humanity to the message of the cross is not my responsibility; I am only responsible for bringing the Good News. As long as there is sin in the world, there will be division, injustice, and pain.

This doesn’t mean we don’t speak the truth, for Scripture clearly instructs us to “Instead, we will speak the truth in love, growing in every way more and more like Christ, who is the head of his body, the church.” (Ephesians 4:15 NLT) What is our motive for speaking out, and what is our method? If our motive for reaching out to those we see lost in sin is love for them, then our methods will align with Scripture. Otherwise, we are only adding fuel to the fire of division instead of bringing Christ into the situation to redeem it.

How Has It Worked So Far?

How has frustration over the sinfulness of this world worked for us thus far? How has being angry helped any situation? Jesus walked this fallen earth and seldom was seen showing outright anger and frustration to the world; He had come to save them, give Himself for them, He died for them. His frustration was evident in the temple, among the “righteous,” who were too busy enriching themselves to reach out to those who truly needed help outside the temple (for us, this can be taken to mean the church).

My youngest daughter loves the movie, Frozen, and the theme song, “Let it go.” I rarely spiritualize animated movies, but today I will make an exception. Those things that frustrate you, those unfair, unrighteous, unholy, complicated things that anger you, let them go. Take Jesus’ yoke on you; He is the only One qualified to measure out judgment. Now is the time to be the church in the world, speak in love, and simply put:

Be nice.

Prayer:

Dear Lord Jesus,
Help me to recognize the moments and places where I’ve missed Your heart in the way I respond to the world around me. Teach me to be patient, to see people through Your eyes, and to respond with the same love and grace You show to me. May my life reflect Your motives and character, so that I may be a faithful example to those around me. Thank You for the privilege of being Your representative in this world.
Amen.

Lea Peters

Lea Peters has been a pastor’s wife and missionary since 1987. She has served alongside her husband, Jamie, planting churches and establishing faith-based community outreaches in Africa. She has four children and two grandchildren.

aculturalshift.com

The post Be Nice appeared first on Cup of Faith.

There’s a kind of inner split that few Christians talk about openly, but many of us feel at some point in our walk with God. I’ve come to call it the great schism. It’s that deep, often painful disconnect between what we know is true about God – because the Bible tells us so – and what our current reality is screaming back at us.

You know the tension. You’ve probably felt it too.

We say with conviction that God is good. We proclaim that He is our provider. Our healer. Faithful. Present. Yet there are seasons in life when those truths feel painfully hollow. Not because they aren’t true, but because they don’t seem to be true for us – right now.

I lived in that space for quite a while.

When the Mind Knows but the Heart Breaks

A few years ago, I was walking through the quiet, aching valley of infertility. Month after month of hope followed by heartbreak. I prayed. I fasted. I believed. I declared. I did all the “right” things. But the silence from heaven grew louder, more deafening, more disorienting. My theology said God is good. My heart whispered, “But is He good to me?”

That’s the kind of question that feels scandalous to admit out loud in Christian circles. But it’s the one that kept me up at night. I knew the verses. I could quote James 1:17 in my sleep: “Every good and perfect gift is from above.” I believed in the goodness of God like I believed in gravity. But in the middle of my pain, those truths started to feel distant, even cruel. What kind of good God withholds something so good?

That’s when I realised I was in a spiritual tug-of-war between what I believed and what I experienced.

The Tension is Biblical

If you’re there right now, I want you to know that you’re not alone and you’re not faithless. In fact, you’re standing in a long tradition of believers who have wrestled with the same kind of dissonance.

Think of Job. A man who lived blamelessly, who honoured God in every way, yet lost everything – his children, his wealth, even his health. His friends were convinced his suffering was because of hidden sin. But Job knew differently. He just didn’t understand why a good God would allow so much pain. At one point, Job said, “Though he slay me, I will hope in him” (Job 13:15 ESV). That’s faith in the face of profound confusion.

Or take David. In the Psalms, he pours out his frustration, saying things like “Why, O Lord, do you stand far away? Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?” (Psalm 10:1 ESV). These aren’t neat, Sunday-school prayers. They’re raw cries from a man wrestling with the seeming gap between God’s character and God’s actions.

Even Jesus, in His humanity, cried out on the cross, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46 ESV). If the Son of God could feel abandoned, could feel the tension between truth and experience, then surely our doubts don’t disqualify us.

Faith Is Not Denial

Somewhere along the way, many of us were taught that faith means always having the right answers or always feeling hopeful. But biblical faith isn’t about denial; it’s about holding onto God even when everything in us wants to let go.

It’s choosing to say, “God, I don’t understand what You’re doing. I don’t like how this feels. But I still believe You are who You say You are.”

That’s not weak faith. That’s deep faith.

It’s faith that has been tested in the fire of disappointment and has chosen, again and again, to trust, even with a limp, even with tears, even with clenched fists.

So How Do We Reconcile the Gap?

This is the question I wrestled with the most. How do we reconcile what we know about God with what we experience when the two seem worlds apart?

I don’t claim to have all the answers, but here’s what I’ve learned – and what I’m still learning:

1. Acknowledge the Gap Honestly

Pretending everything’s fine doesn’t help. God isn’t threatened by our honesty. In fact, He invites it. The Psalms are full of brutal transparency, and yet God called David “a man after My own heart” (Acts 13:22). Lament is a biblical language. It makes space for grief and faith to coexist.

2. Anchor Yourself in the Bigger Story

When we focus only on our present pain, it’s easy to lose sight of the bigger picture. But Scripture reminds us that we’re part of an eternal story – a story where suffering isn’t meaningless and where God *will* make all things new.

Romans 8:28 says, “And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.” Notice it doesn’t say all things are good. Infertility is not good. Suffering is not good. But somehow, mysteriously, God works through it all to bring about a greater good we may not fully see on this side of eternity.

3. Let Your Questions Lead You Closer

For a while, I feared that questioning God would create distance. But I found that my most honest questions became a bridge to deeper intimacy with Him. When I stopped pretending and started praying prayers like, “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief” (Mark 9:24), I found a God who didn’t rebuke me but instead met me with tenderness.

He doesn’t always give us explanations. But He always gives us Himself.

4. Remember That Jesus Entered Our Pain

One of the most comforting truths for me has been this: Jesus knows. He’s not a distant deity watching us suffer from afar. He entered into our broken world. He wept. He grieved. He felt abandoned. He suffered.

Hebrews 4:15 says we have a High Priest who can “sympathize with our weaknesses.” Jesus is not only our Saviour – He is our companion in suffering.

5. Choose to Worship Anyway

This one was the hardest for me. Worship felt hypocritical when I was full of doubt. I remember walking out of a service once during worship because I simply couldn’t do it. But slowly, I learned that worship isn’t just a response to good news – it’s a declaration of trust. It’s saying, “God, even in the dark, I choose to believe You’re still worthy.”

There’s a kind of worship that only comes from the valley. A song that only rises from broken places. And I believe that kind of worship is precious to God.

Walking With a Limp

I didn’t get the answer I prayed for in the way I expected. My story didn’t unfold the way I hoped. But I can say now, years later, that something beautiful happened in the brokenness.

My faith grew deeper. Not neater but deeper.

I still believe God is good. But now, that belief isn’t rooted in what He gives or doesn’t give. It’s rooted in *who He is*. And that’s a shift that suffering often brings.

The great schism between what we know and what we experience may never close entirely this side of heaven. It hasn’t for me. But God is not asking us to resolve the tension. He’s inviting us to trust Him within it.

Even when the prayers go unanswered. Even when the healing doesn’t come. Even when the silence lingers.
God is still good. And somehow, in ways we can’t always see, He is working all things together – not just to fix our story, but to redeem it.

Friend, you don’t have to pretend. You don’t have to tie a bow on your pain or resolve all your doubts to stay in God’s presence.

He welcomes you as you are. Confused. Tired. Hopeful. Hurting. Faithful. Doubting.

And He walks with you in the in-between.

The great schism doesn’t mean your faith is broken. It means your faith is being forged.

If this resonated with you, I’d love to hear your story. Have you ever walked through a season where God’s goodness felt out of reach? How did you navigate the tension between what you know and what you experienced?

Let’s create a space where honesty and faith can coexist.

Because they can.

Marthe Badibanga

A volunteer blogger whose passion is to see the people of God become all that the LORD intended them to be in their personal relationships with Him that overflow into their daily lives.

The post The Great Schism: When What We Believe About God Doesn’t Match What We Experience appeared first on Cup of Faith.

Recently, my husband tried to purchase a couple of groceries using cash as he had left his wallet containing his bank card at home. Unfortunately, the store owner would not accept one of his notes because it had an ink stain on it, which apparently marks potential security issues. To be honest, he was a little disgruntled. “How many hands has this note passed between?” he complained to me, “And no one has had a problem with it until now!”

I realised there was a lesson in this — not just that we should check our change more carefully from now on to avoid accepting damaged bank notes! I couldn’t get the old saying out of my head, “the buck stops here.”
This is an interesting saying. I had always thought that the “buck” referred to money, but it has an even more interesting meaning, which a quick Google search revealed; the term “buck” comes from an old poker term. In the 19th century, a “buck” was a marker (usually a buckhorn knife) used to indicate whose turn it was to deal the cards. When it was your turn, the “buck” was passed to you. If you didn’t want to deal, you could “pass the buck” to someone else. So essentially the “buck” represents responsibility, and you can either pass on responsibility, or you can accept the responsibility.

Passing on the buck

When I reflect on the stained bank note in light of the above saying, I realise that it was someone’s responsibility to put a stop to the defaced bank note and exchange it at the bank. Did others (like us), not notice the stain on the bank note? Did they want to avoid the awkwardness bought on by refusing the bank note and then were they unwilling to take on the responsibility of making a trip to the bank to take the bank note out of circulation?

For me, the ink stain and the “buck” present a striking analogy for our spirituality. When we accept sin into our lives personally or we accept sin in other believers lives by staying silent, are we allowing an exchange of compromised values and thereby diluting the strength of our collective testimony? It is well known that our lives are testimonies of Jesus to the secular world, as well as to each other. Whether it’s intentional or not, most of us have believers we look up to — and at the same time, there are often younger believers watching and learning from us, even if we don’t realise it. This is the cycle of discipleship and one that helps a continuous flow of nourishment and growth.

This caused me to think deeply about my own life and what immediately came to mind was a new friend who has lately been making lifestyle decisions which could lead them to compromising their close relationship with Jesus. Because I did not feel like it was my place to point out the dangers of this to them, I was passive and permissive in my response, merely encouraging them to keep Jesus involved rather than outright pointing them to scripture to reevaluate their choices. Perhaps my hope was that more mature believers would take on that responsibility, and so I was essentially, “passing on the buck.”

The Buck Stops Here

There are other areas in which this analogy may apply, but it’s not always easy to know where our responsibility lies in a world where irreverent principles are intertwined into our fast-paced lives. Is having more than one drink with work colleagues, okay? Is spending money to indulge in luxury holidays, okay? What about the groceries we buy, how are our daily purchases contributing to the deterioration of our environment, the beautiful earth God gifted to us?

If we continue down this train of thought, it can become quite overwhelming. We must remember that God has gifted us with His Holy Spirit to help us navigate these daily decisions, listening to His prompting, “And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Helper, to be with you forever—the Spirit of truth.” (John 14: 16 – 17 NIV).

While there are still areas in my own life that are not perfect, I know that I can trust in God’s promise that, “…He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 1: 6 NIV). And this promise of growth and change are evident when I realise that things that were previously permissible to me, are no longer permissible and this gives me encouragement. I realise I do not need to be puritanical in my approach to faith-based living by cutting off everything secular, but I must be aware of the Holy Spirit’s prompting, which often begins with the small things. Once you can make “the buck stop here”, in those areas, you will feel yourself more emboldened and prompted to draw the line in other areas.

Where does the buck stop in entertainment?

One area where my husband and I have decided to make “the buck stop here” in our lives is in our entertainment. It is difficult because while there is quality Christian entertainment out there, there’s not enough of it. Consequently, we do indulge in secular entertainment, but we have strategically placed a cross above our television screen so that we can always be reminded of why Jesus had to suffer, and therefore do we want to be entertained by it? The rife usage of blaspheming in even the lower age restricted content means that we have often found ourselves heavily invested in a show, but having to abruptly switch it off because of this conviction.

This of course is a conviction that God has made in our household, but not everybody’s pace is the same, and not everyone’s strongholds are the same. Therefore, so long as there is no direct scriptural reference to guide us otherwise, what God may call me to give up and “make the buck stop here,” may not be the same as for you. But I do believe that in everything, we should measure the action, the sight, the audio, whatever is passing through our lives in whatever form, next to the cross. Even if you don’t have a physical cross to place next to that book, that conversation, that mobile screen, you can visualise it to be reminded of three things:

1. If you have allowed sin and vices into your life, your hands, eyes and ears have been redeemed and renewed by the cross and by this grace, you have power to reject it
2. The cross covers even the ones who introduce sin into your life
3. Because Jesus suffered for them too, the responsibility lies with you alone to reject the sin for which Jesu suffered, as this is the right way to love Him in our actions, not just our words.

Devotional

What areas in your life do you feel are compromised in terms of the authenticity of your relationship with Jesus?

I’d like to invite you to close your eyes and ask the Holy Spirit to show you areas in your life where you have made compromises. If you can clearly see an area where you are making compromises, use the opportunity to say this prayer, or your own:

Lord Jesus, thank you for suffering and dying on the cross to free me from my sins. Please forgive me for not always responding with conviction against the sins of the world. Please help me Holy Spirit to make intentional decisions so that I may live – and help others live – a life that is a living testimony to you. In your mighty, holy name I pray, Amen.

Angela Chiaberta

I am a volunteer blogger with a passion for God and writing. My hope is to help others choose faith – or to walk deeper in their faith – through my own introspections and observations.

The post Where Does the Buck Stop? appeared first on Cup of Faith.

A poem about the grace of communion:

Come, sit at the table, my friend

Kate Walsh

Kate is the current owner and editor of Cup of Faith. She is a blogger who loves Jesus, loves to read, and currently lives in Johannesburg with her husband.

The post The Table: A Poem appeared first on Cup of Faith.

Jentezen Franklin’s book, Fasting: Opening the Door to a Deeper, More Intimate, More Powerful Relationship with God, explores fasting and its transformative effects on a believer’s life. Grounded in Biblical principles, Franklin emphasizes that fasting goes beyond mere food abstinence; it is a deliberate act of devotion intended to deepen one’s relationship with God.

My insights from “Fasting”

The book’s central theme is the Biblical basis for fasting. It discusses the different types of fasts found in Scripture—absolute, normal, and partial—and offers guidance on choosing the right fast according to personal circumstances and spiritual objectives.

The link between fasting and prayer is thoroughly explored. The book highlights that fasting alongside prayer enhances our spiritual sensitivity and aligns our hearts with God’s intentions.

Franklin emphasizes the importance of managing our Physical, Mental, and Spiritual Expectations.

Fasting has both challenges and rewards, including physical hunger, mental clarity, and spiritual breakthroughs.

Finally, advice on implementing fasting in daily life is explored for Practical Application. Readers are encouraged to approach fasting with a spirit of humility and dedication.

Fasting by Jentezen Franklin

What I took away from “Fasting”

1. Fasting is a personal discipline that fosters a partnership with God.
2. There are various types of fasts. I need to discern what God is calling me to.
3. Fasting serves to control the flesh. Jesus fasted, so I should too.
4. I need to blend faith and patience into my experience when I fast. Results aren’t always immediate.
5. The question I must ask myself during the fast is, what is God’s goal for the fast? Not what my goal is for the fast.
6. A lack of repentance and unforgiveness will invalidate any fast. I need to approach a time of fasting with self-awareness.

Who should read “Fasting”?

I highly recommend Fasting by Jentezen Franklin to all believers, regardless of their current stage on the spiritual journey. Whether you’re new to fasting or have fasted before but wish to deepen your understanding, this book offers Biblical insight and practical guidance that can transform your spiritual life.

Many Christians today overlook fasting, treating it as optional or outdated—but Franklin reawakens its significance as a powerful, God-ordained discipline. Through this book, readers will better appreciate how fasting can unlock a more intimate, focused relationship with God. Franklin explains the “how” and the “why” of fasting, helping believers grasp its spiritual impact—from breakthroughs in prayer to increased spiritual clarity to a renewed hunger for God’s presence.

This book holds significant value for individuals seeking guidance, longing for renewal, or experiencing spiritual dryness. It’s also perfectly suited for church leaders and small group discussions, offering clear instruction and motivation to reinstate this frequently overlooked practice in our spiritual journeys.

Ultimately, Fasting empowers and motivates believers to seek God with greater intensity, sacrificing physical desires to attain everlasting rewards.

Lea Peters

Lea Peters has been a pastor’s wife and missionary since 1987. She has served alongside her husband, Jamie, planting churches and establishing faith-based community outreaches in Africa. She has four children and two grandchildren.

aculturalshift.com

The post Book Review: Fasting by Jentzen Franklin | Opening the door to a deeper, more intimate, more powerful relationship with God appeared first on Cup of Faith.

The Testimonies We Don’t Always Tell

Many are the plans in a person’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails. Proverbs 19:21 NIV
We love stories that end in joy.
The kind where the waiting is rewarded, the prayer is answered, and the promise is fulfilled.
We celebrate the woman who finally had the baby, the man who finally got the job, and the couple who finally got married. And we should.
But what about the stories that don’t end that way?
What about the woman who never became a mother… and still found purpose?
What about the person whose long-awaited “yes” never came, yet they chose to stay faithful?
This is a reflection on both.
A story about hope fulfilled, and hope surrendered.
And how, in both, God is still good.

When the Movie Feels Like a Mirror: Watching “Broken Hallelujah”

A few weeks ago, I watched a Nigerian film called Broken Hallelujah. I’m a Nollywood girl through and through, so when I saw a new faith film from my favourite actresses, I had to tune in.
The story follows a woman who was barren for close to a decade. A faithful woman of God. A woman who loved the church, served alongside her husband in ministry, and built a beautiful life, except for the one thing her heart ached for: a child.
Year after year, she believed.
Year after year, nothing happened.
The movie beautifully portrayed the pain, the broken faith, the marital strain, and the quiet heartbreak of waiting on God for something so good, so deeply longed for. And then, God answered. Not just with one child, but triplets.
The ending was powerful. It was what we often call a “happy ending.”
And it was deeply moving.
But what happened the next day in class is what truly shifted something in me.

When the Prophecies Don’t Come True

In my Christian counselling class, my lecturer shared her personal testimony. Her story echoed the movie, but with a very different ending.
She, too, was barren for many years. She had received countless prophetic words about motherhood. One in particular stood out: a word that she would conceive a baby girl before the year ended.
So she planned. She believed. She took pregnancy tests month after month.
But by the end of the year… nothing.
And to make matters worse, she had gone up for prayer with three other women. All of them fell pregnant shortly after. Except her.
Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life. Proverbs 13:12 NIV
Her hope became heavy. She grew bitter. Angry. She stopped going to church, stopped praying, and stopped serving.
And yet, God was still pursuing her.

The Divine Question That Demands a Response

As she processed the disappointment with the Lord, something unexpected happened. God asked her a question:
“Would you be willing to surrender this one thing you desire most, so you can become who I’ve truly called you to be?”
She couldn’t answer immediately.
Then Jesus said to his disciples, ‘Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. Matthew 16:24 NIV
To let go of something so precious—something so longed for—is no small ask. But eventually… she said yes, just like the disciples.
She let go—not of the desire completely—but of the expectation. She placed it on the altar. Not as a bargaining chip, but as a sacrifice of trust.
And in that surrender, God revealed her real assignment.

Called to Mother Nations

God had called her not just to mother one child, but to mother many. Through her work as a Christian counsellor, she began healing marriages, guiding women, leading hurting people to Jesus, and helping the broken find freedom.
“Sing, barren woman, you who never bore a child… because more are the children of the desolate woman than of her who has a husband,” says the Lord. Isaiah 54:1 NIV
She is now a spiritual mother to many. Her “yes” to God’s will bore fruit far beyond anything she could have imagined.
Her story reminded me that we serve a God who gives purpose, even when He doesn’t give us what we asked for.

Two Stories. One God. No Less Faithful.

So here I was, reflecting on these two stories
One ends with triplets.
One ends with a purpose beyond expectation.
And both are valid.
Both are beautiful.
Both are testimonies of a God who writes different endings for different people, but is never less faithful in any of them.
Do I Love God More Than the Thing I’m Praying For?
This reflection confronted me.
How many times have I measured God’s goodness based on what I received from Him?
How often do I come to Him with a prayer list, but not with the humility to ask:
“Lord, what do You want for my life?”
Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart. Psalm 37:4 NIV
We love this verse. But “delight” doesn’t mean manipulating God into saying yes. It means coming so close to Him that His desires become our own.
That’s a harder kind of faith.
But it’s the one that sustains.

The Testimonies We Need to Hear More Of

I love the stories of “God did it!”
But we also need to hear:
“God didn’t do it the way I thought, but I trust Him anyway.”
These are the testimonies that anchor people. That disciple heart. That reminds us faith is not about outcomes, it’s about obedience.
Even if He does not… Daniel 3:18 NIV
This kind of faith isn’t built on the fire being quenched.
It’s built on the God who walks with us in it.

What If His “No” Is an Invitation Into Something Greater?

We must ask ourselves:
Are we surrendered enough to live out God’s story, even if it doesn’t look like our dream?
Because sometimes, the greatest act of faith isn’t waiting for the door to open.
It’s choosing to be content with where He’s placed you now.

Watch the Film + Reflect For Yourself
🎥 Watch Broken Hallelujah here: [https://youtu.be/modAD9y-9Tw?si=-VrcWl21_n78risE]
📖 Reflect on these questions:
What is one desire I’ve been struggling to surrender to God?

Have I asked Him what His desire is for my life?

Am I willing to follow, even if the path looks different from what I hoped?

Whether God gives us what we’re waiting for or calls us into something different, He is still good. Still faithful. Still enough.
Let’s build a faith that loves Him more than the things we’re asking Him for.
A faith that says, “Even if not… You are still worthy.”

Chola Tshilanga

Hi, I’m Chola Tshilanga! A passionate content creator and digital expert using her gift of writing to help others live a more intentional life in God while fulfilling their purpose, using God’s word as a compass.

The post Broken Hallelujah: When God’s “No” Is Still His Goodness appeared first on Cup of Faith.

Some scriptures require a bigger ‘meditation’ response than others. The beatitudes are so countercultural that I have to let them sit in my mind, steeping, in order to receive and believe them. ‘Blessed are the merciful.’ In our urban, digital, cancel-culture, social keyboard warrior society, mercy is a concept that is not often acknowledged. In fact, although I felt drawn to write about mercy for our Beatitutdes theme this month, I wasn’t entirely sure what it meant to me.

His mercy in scripture

As I was pondering mercy, two specific passages I read during my devotional times displayed spoke to me about God’s merciful nature:

“I will betroth you to Me forever;

Yes, I will betroth you to Me

In righteousness and justice,

In lovingkindness and mercy;

I will betroth you to Me in faithfulness,

And you shall know the Lord.

 

“It shall come to pass in that day

That I will answer,” says the Lord;

“I will answer the heavens,

And they shall answer the earth.

The earth shall answer

With grain,

With new wine,

And with oil;

They shall answer Jezreel.

Then I will sow her for Myself in the earth,

And I will have mercy on her who had not obtained mercy;

Then I will say to those who were not My people,

‘You are My people!’

And they shall say, ‘You are my God!’ ” Hosea 2:19-23

This is a prophecy about the Gentiles who would be grafted into the family of God through Jesus’ sacrifice. We were once outside of the jurisdiction of mercy but God chose to extend it to us. The context of Hosea is a story of profound mercy. Hosea is called to prophetically wed a prostitute who is addicted to her life of sexual promiscuity. He loses her over and over again but diligently seeks her out each time to bring her back home. She eventually winds up in a slave market. She is standing naked on the podium and Hosea pays her slave price to cover her body with his coat and lead her back home once more.

Hosea’s wife surely deserved to be left to the results of her wanton wanderings. Instead she is given a protective covering. She is shown mercy. How many times have I wandered away from God’s? Too many times and in states too shameful to describe in such a public forum!

The next story hinted towards God’s mercy was the woman with the issue of blood:

Now a woman, having a flow of blood for twelve years, who had spent all her livelihood on physicians and could not be healed by any, came from behind and touched the border of His garment. And immediately her flow of blood stopped.

And Jesus said, “Who touched Me?”

When all denied it, Peter and those with him said, “Master, the multitudes throng and press You, and You say, ‘Who touched Me?’ ”

But Jesus said, “Somebody touched Me, for I perceived power going out from Me.” Now when the woman saw that she was not hidden, she came trembling; and falling down before Him, she declared to Him in the presence of all the people the reason she had touched Him and how she was healed immediately.

And He said to her, “Daughter, be of good cheer; your faith has made you well. Go in peace.” Luke 8:43-48

I think absolutely any story of Jesus’ healing miracles would fit into a discussion of God’s mercy. Jesus has such mercy on people in their suffering. Sometimes our earthly view of suffering can be harsh and judgemental. Surely this was the woman’s lot in life? She was born with an issue of blood and that was her cross to bear. Her physical suffering was a trial that would teach her to have a humble character. At least that’s how I would reason it in my human mind. But she saw something about Jesus. She saw the compassion and mercy he extended to people. She had faith that he was a man who would be willing to take away what others had told her to accept. I want to be like her.

Situational relief

She believed that he would do more than express pity and sympathy. In discussing the ‘blessed are the merciful’, Dr Martyn Lloyd Jones explains:

“It does not mean pity; it means a great desire and indeed an endeavour to do something to relieve a situation.”*

He differentiates grace from mercy:

“Grace is especially associated with men in their sins; mercy is especially associated with men in their misery… grace looks down upon sin as a whole, mercy looks especially upon the miserable consequences of sin.”*

I get the feeling that God’s mercy means I won’t always ‘get what I deserve’. While grace leads me to favour and eternal blessing, freedom from the slavery of sin, mercy is a covering over my mistakes and the consequences of living in a fallen world. 

Extending mercy to others

When was the last time I extended mercy to someone? When was the last time I protected someone from pain, or from hurt, from the harsh conditions of life in this world? I struggle to come up with anything! I feel like the Levite priest who crossed to the other side of the road, fearing contamination. I remember hearing an observation about people’s attitude towards the merciful actions of Mother Theresea: everyone respects her. But no one wants to be her.

Prayer

Lord, You desire that as recipients of your mercy we are in turn merciful to others. Help us not to hide from others’ needs but to seek to urgently relieve them of pain and suffering. Remove earthly judgemental attitudes, remove despair, remove actionless pity, and instead give us the heart Jesus had when he so mercifully healed so many people. Amen.

*References

Lloyd-Jones, D. M. (1971). Studies in the Sermon on the Mount. William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company.

Kate Walsh

Kate is the current owner and editor of Cup of Faith. She is a blogger who loves Jesus, loves to read, and currently lives in Johannesburg with her husband.

The post Blessed are the Merciful for they shall Obtain Mercy appeared first on Cup of Faith.

Jesus begins the Sermon on the Mount with a series of blessings, known as the Beatitudes – statements that turn the world’s values upside down. One of these, in particular, has always stood out to me, mostly because I had misunderstood it for so long:

“Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.” Matthew 5:5 ESV

When was the last time you watched a movie that celebrated meekness? When did the most powerful moment of the story come when the hero restrained himself rather than retaliating? Our culture glorifies assertiveness, dominance, and self-promotion – qualities we associate with strength and success. Most of us equate meekness with weakness. We picture someone who’s compliant, maybe even spineless. Someone who is easily pushed around and afraid to speak up. We associate the term with a wimpy, non-achiever who is easily intimidated, dominated, and frightened. For years, I thought the same. My natural instinct is to take charge, to push forward, to be in control. If I’m even more honest, meekness was never something I aspired to. It seemed like the opposite of success. To me, meekness felt like shrinking back instead of stepping up – like letting people walk all over me, or giving up ambition.

But Jesus offers a radically different perspective, one where meekness is not about being weak, but about possessing a strength that is surrendered to God. Far from being timid or powerless, true meekness is a posture of trust, humility, and self-control. And according to Jesus, it’s the key to inheriting something far greater than what the world offers.

What Does It Mean to Be Meek?

The biblical definition of meekness is not about being timid or easily pushed around. Instead, it reflects a spirit of humility, gentleness, and strength under control. The Greek word for meek, ‘praeis’, was often used to describe a horse that had been tamed – strong, powerful, yet under the guidance of its master.

Meekness is the ability to remain calm, composed, and patient in the face of adversity. It is the quiet confidence of one who trusts in God’s sovereignty rather than resorting to aggression or retaliation. It is having the right or the power to do something but refraining for the benefit of someone else. Meekness is choosing to submit our strength to God’s will rather than exerting it for selfish gain.

This definition might still feel abstract. So, what does meekness actually look like in real life? Scripture gives us a few powerful examples.

Biblical Examples of Meekness

Moses led the Israelites out of slavery, spoke with God face to face, and bore the weight of a nation’s complaints. He could have asserted his authority countless times – but he consistently interceded for his people, even when they turned against him. He curbed the urge to avenge the wrongs done against him, and instead used whatever power he had to serve others. He was described as the meekest man on earth (Numbers 12:3), not because he lacked strength, but because he submitted that strength to God’s will.

Jesus was the ultimate model of meekness. He embodied it in its purest form. Though He had all power and authority, He humbled Himself to serve others, to endure suffering without retaliation, and to surrender His will to the Father. In Matthew 11:29, He says, “Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle [meek] and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” (ESV) His meekness was not weakness – it was power restrained for a greater purpose.

When He was falsely accused, He remained silent (Isaiah 53:7). When He was reviled, He did not revile in return (1 Peter 2:23). His strength was not in loud demands or forceful actions but in His unwavering trust in God’s plan. The meekness of Jesus reminds us that we don’t need to fight for our own way – God is our defender, and His justice prevails in the end.

And that’s where my struggle lies. I want to believe that my anger will somehow achieve the righteousness of God (cf. James 1:20). I want to take matters into my own hands, especially when I feel wronged, taken advantage of. During my divorce, this tension came to the surface in painful ways. Entrusting myself to “Him who judges justly” (1 Peter 2:23) felt impossible at times. I wanted to defend myself and even exact revenge. However, the promise linked to the blessing of meekness became my lifeline.

The Inheritance of the Meek

Jesus promises that the meek “shall inherit the earth.” What a staggering promise! In our world, the aggressive win. The loudest voices dominate. But Jesus flips that script.

The inheritance of the meek is not just a future promise. It begins now. The meek inherit peace in the present because they are not striving to control everything (cf. Psalm 37:11). They inherit joy because they are free from the burden of pride and self-promotion. And ultimately, they will inherit the fullness of God’s kingdom, both now and in eternity.

Note that the verse doesn’t say they will ‘strive for’ or ‘conquer’ or ‘earn’ the earth; they will inherit it. With Psalm 37 in view, we see that the wicked seek gain at all cost. In verse 14, “the wicked draw the sword and bend their bows to bring down the poor and needy…” and while they gain things that will bring temporary pleasure, only the meek, those who delight in the Lord (v. 4), will inherit the earth (v.11).

This promise is deeply reassuring. It means that no act of gentleness, no moment of restraint, and no quiet act of trust goes unnoticed by God. He sees it all. And He honours it. Our inheritance is not just in the life to come – it is the deep peace and freedom we experience when we stop striving and start surrendering. In the words of John Piper, “I think the promise that the meek shall inherit the earth is intended by the Lord to give us the strength to endure in meekness when the natural inclination would be to defend ourselves or retaliate or give way to fretful anger.”

How Can We Cultivate Meekness?

1. Trust in God’s Plan

Meekness comes from surrendering our need to control outcomes and trusting that God’s plan is better than our own (Proverbs 3:5-6). It means choosing faith over fear and knowing that we are held by a loving and sovereign God.

2. Respond with Grace

Instead of reacting in anger or defensiveness, choose gentleness and wisdom in difficult situations (James 1:19-20). It takes great strength to hold back when provoked, to forgive when wronged, and to speak in love rather than retaliation.

3. Seek Humility

Recognize that all we have and all we accomplish is because of God’s grace, not our own striving (Philippians 2:3-4). Meekness is acknowledging our dependence on God and choosing to uplift others instead of seeking our own recognition. It’s about knowing that in our sanctification, the Holy Spirit is conforming us into the image of Christ, which includes His meekness.

4. Rest in God’s Strength

Meekness is not about suppressing emotions or ignoring injustice, but about relying on God’s strength rather than our own (Isaiah 40:29-31). It is about laying down our burdens at His feet and allowing Him to lead us in wisdom and love.

Final Thoughts

In a world that applauds the loudest voice and strongest hand, Jesus invites us to walk a quieter, deeper path – one marked by humility, trust, and strength under submission. Meekness isn’t about being weak. It’s about choosing surrender over self-promotion and letting God be our defender.

Meekness is walking in the footsteps of Christ, trusting in God’s justice, and finding peace in surrender. It’s the quiet strength that knows it doesn’t have to fight for its place because God has already secured it.

So, where is God calling you to embrace meekness today? Maybe in a work conflict, a family tension, or an inner battle for control. Whatever it is, He sees. And He promises that the meek will not be forgotten.

A Short Prayer:

Lord, help me to walk in the way of meekness. Teach me to trust You more, to surrender my strength to Your will, and to respond to others with grace and humility. May Your Spirit shape me to reflect the gentle power of Jesus. Amen.

Let’s Talk:

Where do you find meekness hard to live out? Have you ever seen its fruit in your own life? Share your thoughts in the comments – we grow stronger in community.

Marthe Badibanga

A volunteer blogger whose passion is to see the people of God become all that the LORD intended them to be in their personal relationships with Him that overflow into their daily lives.

The post Blessed Are the Meek: Rethinking Strength in a Loud World appeared first on Cup of Faith.

But I say, love your enemies! Pray for those who persecute you. Matthew 5:44 NLT

We live in a world where loving those who love us back feels natural, and loving those who have hurt us feels almost impossible. Yet, in Matthew 5, Jesus gives us a deeper call: to love our enemies, to pray for those who persecute us, and to love not based on familiarity or reward but rooted in obedience and Christ-like compassion.

This blog is a personal reflection on that exact kind of love. It’s about what it means to live out a Kingdom standard when the world gives you every reason not to. And how obedience, not comfort, is often where the love of Christ shines the brightest.

Divine Encounters in Unexpected Places

Some days begin so ordinarily, yet end with a whisper from heaven.

It was a fateful day when I decided I’d go grocery shopping. I had planned out exactly what I needed and was excited to stock up. But little did I know that what started as a simple errand would become a heart check — a moment where God would gently redefine what love looks like.

After collecting my items and heading to the till, I realized with a sinking feeling that I didn’t have my bank card. I panicked a little, but strangely, I felt a quiet peace in my heart that everything would be okay. I asked the cashier if I could leave and return with my card, and thankfully, they agreed.

Because I didn’t live too far away, I considered walking. But to speed things up, I ordered an Uber. What I didn’t expect was that this Uber ride would minister to me more than any sermon that day.

The driver was warm, thoughtful, and soon our small talk turned into deep conversation. He asked me about my faith, my relationship with God, and I could tell immediately: this man knew the Lord.

He shared how he had recently been discipling a young man — an 18-year-old who had lost both of his parents. This young man had been suicidal, caught in hopelessness, until this very Uber driver reached out and began walking with him through healing, helping him find work and a reason to live again.

Naturally, I assumed the driver worked with youth. “Oh wow, do you serve young people in your community?” I asked.

His answer stunned me: “No, actually, I’ve never done this before. I didn’t even know this young man. We connected on Facebook, and the Holy Spirit told me to reach out to him.”

That was all he needed — a prompting from the Holy Spirit. And because he obeyed, someone’s life was changed.

I couldn’t stop thinking about it. This man didn’t need to know this teenager to love him. He didn’t need a title, a church program, or a personal connection. He simply obeyed God and loved someone who didn’t “earn” it.

The Uber driver taught me something profound: obedience can look like love. He loved a stranger with his time, his care, his prayers. And it wasn’t just emotional — it was spiritual. It was a choice.

Who Are Our Enemies, Really?

This blog piece is personal because “love your enemies” has been a journey I know well.

We often define enemies the way the world does — villains in movies, abusive exes, jealous co-workers. But I’ve come to see that sometimes, your greatest enemies are people who have deeply hurt you — and once that pain sinks in, it can feel like the love you once had for them dies with it.

For me, that pain came during the breakdown of my family. When my parents divorced, I saw things I never imagined I would. Pain tore through my home, and with it came versions of my family that were angry, cold, distant, and broken. And brokenness has a way of revealing people’s worst sides.

But in the same season that I was trying to protect my heart, God was calling me to love.

Loving Through Brokenness

There is an ease in loving people who love you well. But when love asks you to stretch — to stay soft in the middle of betrayal, to forgive what still stings — it becomes clear that this is a supernatural love.

It was the Holy Spirit who kept pulling me toward forgiveness, not because others deserved it, but because I did not deserve the grace God gave me either.

I am not more righteous than the next person. I’m not better than anyone who has wronged me. That kind of humility doesn’t come naturally, but it does come when you spend time with God, when you realize just how much He loves you despite your own flaws.

The commandment to love the Lord your God, love yourself, and love others isn’t a light suggestion. It’s the foundation of a full life in Christ. And “others” doesn’t mean just those who are good to you. It includes the complicated, the painful, and the unpredictable. The ones who test your growth. The ones you’re still learning to forgive.

Love Is a Lifestyle, Not a Feeling

One of the greatest lessons I’ve learned is that love is not a reward system. It’s not something we give to those who earn it. It’s a posture. A way of life.

That Uber driver taught me something profound: Obedience can look like love. He loved a stranger with his time, his care, his prayers. And it wasn’t emotional. It was spiritual. It was a decision.

God’s Word doesn’t ask us to love when we feel like it. It calls us to love because that’s who He is.

Jesus Himself said in Matthew 5:46–47:

“If you love only those who love you, what reward is there for that? Even corrupt tax collectors do that much… If you are kind only to your friends, how are you different from anyone else?”

When we love like the world, we blend in. When we love like Christ, we stand out. Because that kind of love transforms.

Reflecting the Heart of the Father

The last verse in this passage always used to intimidate me:

“But you are to be perfect, even as your Father in heaven is perfect.” Matthew 5:48
But I’ve learned that this verse isn’t demanding flawlessness — it’s pointing us to maturity. It’s an invitation to grow up into the fullness of who God is. To love like Him.

God gives sunlight and rain to the good and the evil alike. He doesn’t withhold His kindness because of our sin. That’s the love we’ve received, and now, that’s the love we’re called to give.

When I reflect on my own story — the hardened heart that God softened, the pain that He is still healing — I realize this kind of love can change lives. It changed mine. And it will change yours, too.

Becoming the Bible Some Have Never Read

My mentor once told me, “Some people will never open the Bible, but they will encounter God through your life.”

That’s never left me.

Your life, your love, your kindness — these are testimonies. You don’t need a pulpit. Your work desk is a pulpit. Your WhatsApp chats are a pulpit. Your dinner table is a pulpit.

Every day, we get the chance to reflect God not just with our words but with our love.

So how do we love our enemies?

We start by praying for them. Even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.

We ask God to soften our hearts, to help us see them the way He does. We surrender our desire to be right, to get even, to stay offended. We ask Him to make us whole so we can love from a healed place — not a bleeding one.

And we remember: we were loved before we ever loved Him.

Takeaways:

• Loving your enemies isn’t about their worthiness — it’s about your obedience.
• Forgiveness is part of your healing journey.
• Love is a lifestyle — not a reaction.
• Your life may be the only Bible some people will read.
• We love because Christ loved us first.

Spend time this week asking God:

Who have I withheld love from? Who do I need to forgive — or begin praying for — even if I don’t feel ready to love them yet?

Write their names down. Pray over them. Ask the Holy Spirit to help you take the first step. You don’t need to feel it — you just need to be willing.

If you’ve been on the receiving end of love that healed you, take time to thank God for the people He used. Then, go be that person for someone else.

Chola Tshilanga

Hi, I’m Chola Tshilanga! A passionate content creator and digital expert using her gift of writing to help others live a more intentional life in God while fulfilling their purpose, using God’s word as a compass.

The post When Love Looks Like Obedience: Learning to Love Beyond Familiarity appeared first on Cup of Faith.