Today, while reading Psalm 55, I was struck by David’s words about his closest companion and friend—someone whose speech was as smooth as butter, yet war was in his heart. This powerful reminder struck me: the deepest wounds often stem from those we trusted most, the ones we believed were true friends, only to discover they weren’t.

This passage brought to mind my transition from Jensen Beach to Jax Beach. I thought that I had built strong lasting friendships there. However, over time, I’ve come to realize which ones were truly lifelong. Some have quietly faded—not entirely their fault or mine. Life simply pulled us in different directions, and we ceased making the effort to stay in touch.

On the other hand, others have grown deeper and stronger. They’ve endured through texts, phone calls, greeting cards, and even occasional visits. These friendships have become a quiet source of joy and stability in my life.

It’s strangely easy to lose touch these days, even though staying connected is simpler than ever. I recall when I first moved from Virginia to Florida—long-distance phone calls were a luxury we couldn’t often afford. Remember I’m old — there was no texting, no quick photos of dinner, and no FaceTime to bridge the miles.

So, why, with all these effortless ways to reach out, do we still let busyness keep us from connecting with the people who truly matter?

Here is my prayer for today:

Father God,

You are the God who restores, reconnects, and remembers every relationship that has shaped our lives. Nothing and no one is ever truly forgotten by You. Today I bring before You the old friends I have not seen or heard from in years. The people who once shared laughter, memories, conversations, and seasons of life with me — I place them into Your hands.

Lord, if it is Your will, open the door for reunion. Cross our paths again in unexpected and beautiful ways. Let old friendships be renewed with kindness, grace, and joy. Heal any distance, misunderstandings, silence, or hurt that may have settled over the years. Remove awkwardness and replace it with warmth and peace.

Remind me that relationships are gifts from You. Give me courage to reach out when needed and wisdom to know when to wait. Bring to mind the people You want me to reconnect with, and prepare both of our hearts for whatever You desire to do.

I pray that these reunions would not simply be about nostalgia, but about encouragement, healing, and seeing Your faithfulness across the years. Let old friends see how You have carried me, and let me see how You have cared for them too.

Thank You, Lord, that You are the One who gathers people together. Just as You restore what feels distant or lost, You are able to restore connection and fellowship in Your perfect timing.

In the name of your precious Son, King Jesus,
Amen.

Today I spent some time meditating on David’s words in Psalm 51:7: “Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean.” At first glance it sounded strange to me. Why hyssop? Why would David mention a plant while crying out for forgiveness? But the more I studied it, the more beautiful the verse became.

Hyssop was a small plant used throughout the Old Testament in cleansing ceremonies. It was connected to purification, mercy, and restoration. In Exodus 12, hyssop was used to apply the blood of the Passover lamb to the doorposts of Israelite homes. In Leviticus and Numbers, it was used in ceremonies for cleansing people who had been considered unclean. Hyssop became a symbol of being washed, restored, and made right again before God.

When David prayed this prayer, he was not asking for outward cleaning. He was asking God to cleanse the stain of sin from deep within his heart. David understood something important: sin is not just behavior on the outside—it affects the inner person. That is why later in the psalm he says, “Create in me a clean heart, O God.”

What stands out to me is David’s confidence in God’s mercy. He says, “and I shall be clean.” David believed God could truly remove guilt and restore what sin had damaged. He was not trying to clean himself up before coming to God. He came honestly, broken and repentant, trusting that God alone could wash him completely.

I also love how hyssop points forward to Jesus. The same plant connected to Passover and cleansing appears again at the crucifixion in John 19. Jesus became the true Lamb whose blood brings cleansing and forgiveness once and for all. What hyssop symbolized in the Old Testament, Christ fulfilled completely.

Knowing David prayed, “Purge me with hyssop,” shows me that God does not merely cover over sin superficially. He cleanses deeply. He restores fellowship. He renews hearts. He can take what is stained, guilty, and broken and make it clean again. That kind of mercy should never stop amazing me.

Father God, Today feels like a picture of Psalm 65:9 — “You visit the earth and water it.” It has been so dry this year. The rain reminds me that You refresh, nourish, and bring life where things have become weary and thirsty. And just as the ground depends on rain, my soul depends on You. The rain falling from the sky today is actually a beautiful reminder to me of Your care, Your provision, and Your faithfulness to sustain what You have made. Thank you.

Today I was babysitting my three-year-old granddaughter, Miss Noa Mae. We were playing pretend, and she decided it was bedtime. In her sweet little voice she said, “Come on, Gwee Gwee” — that’s what she calls me — “it’s time to go to bed.”

So I decided to play along. I pretended to be the child and said, “I don’t want to go to bed. Please, please let me stay up… at least five more minutes.”

She immediately burst out laughing and said, “Don’t act like me!”

Her response made me smile, but it also made me stop and think. Isn’t that often how we are? We are quick to recognize behavior in someone else that we don’t always recognize in ourselves. We can clearly see attitudes, habits, and reactions when they are reflected back to us.

What struck me most was how naturally Miss Noa Mae understood the contradiction. She knew exactly what it looked like because she had heard herself say it before. In a simple childlike moment, God reminded me of something deeper: it’s much easier to give instruction than it is to live it consistently.

How often do we tell others:
“Be patient.”
“Trust God.”
“Don’t worry.”
“Be kind.”
…while quietly struggling to do those very things ourselves?

Jesus addressed this same issue when He warned against saying the right things without practicing them. Truth is meant to be lived, not just spoken.

What I love is that God can use even the laughter of a three-year-old to teach a lesson. Sometimes the most profound mirrors come in the smallest voices.

Today Miss Noa Mae thought we were just pretending to go to sleep. But God used that little moment to wake me up a bit more to my own heart.

Recently, I have heard numerous people refer to others as narcissists. Growing up, I rarely heard people use that term. People might have said someone was prideful, selfish, controlling, arrogant, or full of themselves—but not a narcissist. Now the word seems to be everywhere.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that people have probably not changed as much as the language has. Human nature has always wrestled with pride, self-centeredness, insecurity, and the desire to be seen or praised. Scripture has spoken about those things for thousands of years. What is new is that our culture now has psychological terms and categories for behaviors people once struggled to describe.

At the same time, I can see that some things in modern culture may feed those tendencies. Social media constantly invites people to build an image, seek attention, protect their brand, and measure worth by likes, followers, and recognition. It can quietly train the heart to focus inward. Yet even while culture may amplify these things, the deeper issue is still the condition of the human heart—a struggle that has existed since the beginning.

What also stood out to me is how quickly labels can now be attached to people. Someone who is selfish, immature, insensitive, or wounded may immediately be called a narcissist. While some people truly display deeply damaging patterns of manipulation and lack of empathy, not every difficult person fits into a clinical category. Sometimes people are simply broken, fearful, prideful, or emotionally unhealthy in ordinary human ways.

Knowing that Scripture recognized humanity’s tendency toward self-love long before modern psychology existed shows me that God understands the human heart completely. Nothing about our struggles surprises Him. Paul warned that people would become “lovers of self” in the last days, yet the Bible never stops there. God also reveals Himself as the One who transforms hearts, softens pride, heals wounds, and teaches us to love others more than ourselves.

What encourages me most is realizing that Jesus is the complete opposite of narcissism. Though He was worthy of all glory, He humbled Himself. He listened, served, touched the broken, welcomed the overlooked, and laid down His life for others. In a world constantly turning inward, Christ continually turns outward in love.

Father God, help us live our lives as Jesus did, not focusing inwardly, but outwardly. Let us embody humility, gentleness, empathy, and self-giving love. May our lives serve as beacons, guiding others toward You. 

Today I was struck by something David said in 2 Samuel 6:21. Even though he was the king of Israel, he referred to himself as a “prince” before the Lord. At first that seemed unusual to me. Why would a king choose a lesser title? But the more I studied it, the more beautiful it became.

The word David used carries the idea of a leader who has been appointed by God—someone who rules under God’s authority, not above it. David understood that the throne was never really his. Israel’s true King was always the Lord. David was simply chosen to serve under Him.

What stands out to me is the setting of this statement. David had been dancing before the ark with joy and abandon while Michal criticized him for acting beneath royal dignity. But David did not seem concerned with protecting his image. He was overwhelmed with gratitude that God had chosen him at all.

It makes me realize how easy it is to cling to titles, appearances, and the need to be seen a certain way. David reminds me that the greatest position I can hold is not one of status, but one of surrender. Before God, even a king becomes simply a servant and worshiper.

Knowing that David called himself a prince instead of exalting himself as king shows me that true greatness in God’s kingdom comes from humility. The Lord is the true King, and any place of influence or blessing I have is ultimately a gift from Him. Like David, I want my heart to remain more amazed that I was chosen by grace than impressed by any position I may hold.

Knowing that God renews my youth like the eagle’s shows me that while He may not reverse the aging process, He is fully able to restore the strength, hope, and joy that sometimes grow weary within me.

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