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.

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 Interview with Author Sister K: “Blessed with Laughter: Journey to Seeing Her Eyes” appeared first on Cup of Faith.

From Gentle Streams to Roaring Seas

I once overheard a friend of mine say something so moving to her daughter while on a walk with my own daughter and me. We were all standing among the lush vegetation of a secret green hollow in our neighbourhood which overhung an unseen stream, and she said, “Listen to the water. God speaks to us through the water.”

This resonated with me deeply. When I reflect on my own moments of intimacy with God, they have often occurred in spaces of proximity to the sound of water in some form or another, whether it be listening to the rain while journaling, walking alongside streams on residential greenbelts or sitting on the beach watching and hearing the crashing waves; there is something about the purity of water that inspires prayer and thoughts of God for me, which is in line with scripture as He even describes Himself as ‘the spring of living water.’ (Jeremiah 2:13 NIV).

The other day during my quiet time, I let the thought of water meander long and far, drawing what felt like a truly appropriate portrait of God’s character and how He relates to us. It struck me that as water takes on so many different forms, so does God; just as water is a still and gentle stream as well as a wild and vast ocean, so God is both a whisper of peace and our refuge, as well as a thunderous all-consuming power. To have complete relationship with our Father, we can’t experience Him in one form only. We need to allow ourselves to flow with the current of His will lest we lose out on the full renewal and power that relationship with Him offers.

Gentle Streams: Meeting God in Quiet

‘He leads me beside quiet waters…’ (Psalm 23: 2 NIV).

Jesus said to the woman at the well that whoever drinks the water he gives will never thirst again (John 4: 13-14). I don’t know if you have ever drunk directly from a mountain stream, but my experience of it was that I had never tasted something so wholly invigorating, it certainly felt like it was a thirst-quench with longevity. The first year of my walk in faith was one of the most deeply enriching and meaningful years of my life. I spent so much time on my own with God, sitting, walking and talking with Him, that I truly felt that if I was the only human alive on earth, I would be perfectly content, because I had Him.

Nurturing my personal relationship with God is therefore a big priority in my life, for unless I can experience God alone, I cannot know His deep love for me the individual, as His child and as a small piece of His creation. It is knowledge and constantly reminding myself of this love that fills me, fuels me, and makes me instrumental to the kingdom, because being filled with His love means I can overflow with love, giving to others that love that I have received from the source of all love.

Experiencing the peace of personal intimacy with God means that I am often tempted to avoid community; I have a strong desire to live my spiritual life in private with God alongside the quiet waters. But I know this is not His will for my life. Water naturally flows towards the sea, and so long as that water is constantly moving, it will continue to flow with life and vibrancy. If it collects and becomes stagnant, it loses its vitality and can become a breeding ground for bacteria and other elements that make it unsafe to consume. This is like our relationship with God and therefore our faith when we refuse to flow with the current of His will; we too will become stagnant, and like all stagnant water, we will find that the water is no longer life- giving and may become a breeding ground for unwanted sin.

As we become strengthened by drinking from the quiet stream of our personal relationship with God, we need to surrender to His will as the natural current of water flows towards the sea.

Roaring Seas: Meeting God in Power

The sea is where we encounter God in power, which can be a symbol for corporate worship and community. We cannot belong to His kingdom without being in His kingdom with our fellow believers.

When we pray for each other and lay hands on one another, we see God move. We see God’s justice and mercy demonstrated through outreach ministries, uplifting communities and being a sanctuary for those who live on the fringes of society. We see love displayed through relationship and close counsel, doing life with one another. Alongside this, though we are saints, we are saints being sanctified which means sometimes repressed sin is being brought to the surface and clashing with sin in other believers. But in times of adversity in church, we also see God’s redeeming hand bringing about conciliation and healing.

In these ways, God’s reflection through fellowship is very much like the sea; just as the sea can be turbulent and windswept, it can be perfectly orchestrated and powerful in the majestic waves rising and falling in perfect formation and rhythm.

There is no such thing as a perfect church, and my church is no different. But one vital aspect of my church keeps me firmly rooted in its community, and that is the presence of the Holy Spirit. I often used to think that you need to prime yourself before going to church if you want to experience the presence of God, but there have been times when I’ve arrived at church with a very distracted mindset, either it’s been a rushed morning or I’ve simply been distant from God throughout the week, but in spite of this, I have felt showered by the Holy Spirit merely by being present in the gathering of strong believers. Someone speaks a prayer over the congregation or a powerful moment of worship surges through the room, and I feel the rippling of His divine presence across the entire surface of my body and soul. That’s power in His presence, and it’s made possible through the corporate fellowship and gathering of the Saints.

Where the River meets the Sea

Returning to my quiet time when I reflected on this comparison of God and water, I was sitting just by a small estuary, perfectly positioned to hear both the distant roar of the sea as well as the gentle trickle of the estuary. These two contrasting sounds were existing in harmony with one another, and every so often, the gentle methodical trickle was overlaid by the gentle swoosh of a larger wave reaching its final stretch. Just as the estuary feeds into the sea, so the sea washes over the estuary and fills its banks, giving it more movement and energy.

How similar it is to how we live in community; just as we become part of the fellowship and so feed the kingdom, we are also fed by the kingdom when we need renewed energy. It is a symbiotic relationship, in which at times we will be flowing more powerfully into the kingdom, and other times, the kingdom will be overflowing to us, and it is all living in the fullness of God and His purpose for our lives.

Let us Pray:

Father God, thank you for how you reveal to yourself to us in all forms. Please help us to experience the fullness of your character and love and live a balanced life in personal relationship with you and community. For those of us who want to live hidden away in relationship with you alone, gives us obedience and boldness to serve in community. For those of us who are too busy actively engaging in church and activities that we forget to connect with you alone, please draw us away to a quiet place with you. In Jesus name, 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 Meeting God in Quiet and in Power 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.

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.

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.

Being the peacemaker isn’t always peaceful. As a former lay-counsellor who has always felt a calling to commiserate and be a safe, judgement-free space for people, it quite often happens that family and friends come to me to talk about their problems. The prospect of being even just a small help means that I don’t mind this in the least. That is, until the problem just happens to be a mutual friend or family member in conflict with the person confiding in me — especially when said mutual friend or family member has also come to confide in me.

Such an instance has happened to me recently, where the parties involved were all very close to one another, but unresolved past feelings had bubbled to the surface over a disagreement, and events led all of them to come to me to vent their frustration. I found myself confronted with two choices: either I could avoid getting involved, or I could take charge and suggest that everyone come together to talk it out. Remembering scripture, I chose the latter for in James it is said that “Peacemakers who sow in peace reap a harvest of righteousness.”  James 3:18 NIV

However, in orchestrating the open communication to heal the relationships, something was said which was misunderstood by one of the people involved, who then began to mistakenly suspect that I had betrayed their trust and relayed information that was not mine to share. Suddenly, I was the target of anger and hurt, and I truly regretted getting involved.

While thankfully it was resolved quite quickly, it was not the first time that I had been caught in this kind of situation, and it’s clearly a test I will need to keep writing until I get it right. However, what I have learnt, is that there is a time to be a peacemaker, and there is a time to hold our peace: “The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.” Exodus 14:14 NIV

But how do we know which one is appropriate for which instance? As always, only the truth of scripture can answer that for us and most of the time, this is directly related to our intentions; are we serving God’s agenda, or our own?

When action leads to peace

While I can’t yet give an answer as to whether my involvement in the above incident was God’s agenda or my own, I can say that being the target of anger however briefly made me feel mildly persecuted as it was not based on truth, and this led me to reflect on Jesus.

For Jesus was the ultimate peacemaker. He came to make peace between humankind and God, but this was not done peacefully. He spoke out against the Pharisees calling them hypocrites, he spoke up for tax collectors and adulterers, over-turned tables in the temple and even said, “Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I did not come to bring peace, but a sword.” (Matthew 10: 34-35 NIV), all ultimately leading to his torture and death on the cross.

Oftentimes, we will be persecuted for being peacemakers especially if the conflict is within a worldly context, but we must trust in God for being our ultimate vindicator. For Jesus did not vindicate himself when he stood before Herod or Pontius Pilate, and he did not try to vindicate himself by proving his deity to his accusers. But through his death he restored humankind to God and he was ultimately vindicated when he rose from the dead, the empty tomb a reassurance of the complete redemption and restored peace of our relationship with God, but more importantly, the evidence that he was who he claimed to be. But despite our joy and celebration of this event, it came at a great cost in the form of persecution.

When inaction leads to peace

Earlier I mentioned when Jesus stood silent didn’t try to defend himself against His accusers, this was an example of complete surrender to the father’s will. He did not need to defend himself. For as God, He knew His righteousness, in the father’s will He knew peace, and in the knowledge of His purpose to restore humankind to God, He went willingly.

Similarly, God will call us to speak when it will cause our own persecution, but there are times when He will also call us to be silent. When He calls us to be silent, it is normally a call for inner reflection of our agenda to speak out. Sometimes we believe we are speaking the truth to fight for what is right, but our real agenda, is something more self-serving. We are offended, or we are simply angered by someone else’s action because it presses a self-righteous button, and we want to display this by bringing someone else to task, which is especially common in church relationships.

While it can be just as difficult to call someone out in their sin, if our agenda is self-righteous, the best way to restore peace who be to understand why we have a self-serving agenda, so that we can repent and be at peace on that issue. For me personally, I find it particularly difficult to remain silent when I’m feeling offended. It can be very difficult when the offense is fresh and we feel hurt, but if we obey God to “hold our peace”, we often will find a much greater peace in the silence as we rely on God alone to heal us.

I have a good friend who asks herself three simple questions every time her instinct is to speak out to someone, whether it is because she is offended or because she believes they are in the wrong: Is it kind? Is it true? Is it necessary?

It can be tricky trying to navigate the waters of conflict, whether it be between other people or simply within ourselves, but the best way to understand our own agenda, is to ask whether speaking out glorifies God, or serves our own pride? When we are silent, is it because we are afraid of the conflict that we may find ourselves in? Will our action or inaction bring peace to others, and will it bring peace and growth to ourselves? Ultimately, it comes down to faith versus self-preservation. It is only through prayer and deep reflection that it is revealed which of the two is driving our decision.

Father God, we lift to you all those who are currently experiencing conflict in one way or another. Please Lord guide them through your Holy Spirit to either speak your truth courageously to bring peace to others, or to stay silent and to turn to you for their comfort and peace. In Jesus name we 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 Blessed are the Peacemakers appeared first on Cup of Faith.

by Roxanne Goodchild

With Palm Sunday approaching, I’ve been reflecting on what this moment must’ve been like for Jesus. He knew the events and feelings that would transpire… the pain, betrayal, bitter grief… and he walked toward it.

From a human perspective, it can be seen as the perfect mix of courage and vulnerability; after all, we can’t separate the two. How would I have ridden down that road, knowing the events that were going to take place? Probably with disbelief at the fickle people celebrating, anguish, and self-pity for what was about to go down, and most definitely not willingly.
Except we know this road was not taken in sheer human willpower for us to emulate. In a marvelous and mysterious way, this was Jesus’ divinity on full display, and the perfect example of laying down our wills: what we want and so stubbornly cling to. He rode into town with an abundance of humility, grace, steadfast resolve, and pity for the people singing Hosanna.

Was he feeling apprehension; was there fear yet? (And how do we think about the God of the universe experiencing these feelings?)
What motivated Jesus to ride into Jerusalem knowing what was to come?

Love. Love for those who would be chanting for his crucifixion in a few days.
This act of riding toward tragedy is a perfect picture of a love that doesn’t turn away; a love that shows up.

The book of Hebrews gives us further insight into what Jesus’ mindset and motivation would have been: “… For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God” (Hebrews 12:2).

The event that kick-starts Holy week is a celebration, yes, but for a very different reason the palm-waving people, cheering children and celebratory crowd could fathom.

The next time God is riding into His Kingdom, it will be a very different picture: one of glory, victory and everlasting power. What beautiful contrasting images. Praise the Lord that both are true and, in Him and what was accomplished in the events following Palm Sunday, we’re able to endure unspeakable hardship and experience profound and everlasting joy.

Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good.
His love endures forever. – Psalm 136:1.

_____________________

Roxanne lives in Johannesburg and works as a counsellor. She enjoys listening to podcasts, coffee & cake, and is an enthusiastic proponent of hope.

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 Reflections on Palm Sunday appeared first on Cup of Faith.