When You’re Missing Out but God Is Still Moving

A few years ago, I pulled together a group of women and said, “Let’s start walking together.”
Of course, I didn’t call it a walking group … I called it a hiking group. (It just sounds cooler, doesn’t it?)

Last year, we even took a two-day camping trip. Campfire laughs, too many snacks, and just the sweetest connection with women who had become like family. It was one of those moments you tuck away and think, We’ve got to do this every year.

Well, today is that “every year.”
And they’re all heading out again — tents, sleeping bags, snacks, and flashlights in tow.
My phone keeps lighting up with group messages: Who’s bringing the marshmallows? Don’t forget the napkins!

And I’m sitting here, leg elevated, foot wrapped, scrolling through the messages with tears quietly sliding down my cheeks.

Sometimes it’s not just a broken bone… It’s a broken heart.

In the past, I might have let discouragement or disappointment take over. I would have let that ache whisper lies: You’re missing out. You’re falling behind. You don’t matter.

But not today.

Today, I just let the tears fall and hand them to Jesus.
I whisper a prayer for my friends: that they laugh until their stomachs hurt, that they find peace in the stillness of nature, and that they walk away from the trip encouraged and empowered.

Because here’s what I’m learning: sometimes being left out isn’t being forgotten.
Sometimes, it’s being set apart… for healing, for rest, for a deeper kind of connection with God.

Scripture says:

“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” — Psalm 34:18

And right now, that verse feels like a warm blanket over my soul.

God sees the tears we hide. He knows the ache of missing out. But He also knows what He’s growing in us when we’re sitting still.

So while my friends hike the trails these next few days, I’ll be hiking a different kind, one through the valleys of patience, surrender, and trust. And I have a feeling the view at the top will be worth it.

“Be still, and know that I am God.” — Psalm 46:10

Here’s to the holy hikes we didn’t plan … the ones where Jesus meets us right where we are at.

When God Sits You Down: Lessons from Two Broken Bones and a Staircase Workout

Sometimes life slows you down... and sometimes it knocks you right off your feet.

Well, the news wasn’t quite what we hoped for. I’ll be having surgery to repair two broken bones in my foot—plates, screws, the whole hardware aisle! In a few months, I’ll (literally) be back on my feet again.

This will be my sixth surgery in four years. You’d think I’d have earned a punch card by now: “Buy five, get one free!” But this one has humbled me in a whole new way.

When I went through chemo, radiation, the DIEP procedure, and even two new knees, I could still manage to be fairly independent. But this time, being completely non-weight-bearing, has been a different kind of challenge.

We live in a multi-level home, and let’s just say the seven stairs to the bathroom and my office have become my daily Everest. Crutches? Not happening. So I’ve adopted a new workout routine: the backward-stair-butt-scoot. My arms and shoulders have never been stronger. Who needs the gym when every bathroom trip counts as strength training?

As I prepare for surgery, I keep returning to these words from Suffering Is Never for Nothing by Elisabeth Elliot:

“The deepest things that I have learned in my own life have come from the deepest suffering.
And out of the deepest waters and the hottest fires have come the deepest things that I know about God.”

Through it all, God’s promise remains steady:

“I will be with you.”

So I have a choice — be frustrated by this forced season of rest, or accept it as an invitation to truly rest in Him.
To slow down enough to notice what I might have rushed past before.

There’s a lot I can’t do right now.
But there’s also a lot I can do: pray, reflect, laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, and trust that even this detour has purpose.

Maybe that’s something for all of us to remember: sometimes God sits us down (quite literally!) so He can help us stand stronger later.

Here’s to scooting through the hard seasons with a little grace, a little grit, and a lot of faith. 💛

The Detour I Didn’t Plan — and the Lesson I Needed

Well… this wasn’t the Montana adventure I had mapped out.

Within 24 hours of our trip, I managed to break two bones in my foot.

I wish I could tell you it happened rock climbing, scaling waterfalls, or running from a bear (at least that would sound cool).

But no, I simply missed a step.

The main reason for this trip was to visit our daughter, son-in-law, and grandson, and to finally go hiking after getting both knees replaced. I had even mapped out day hikes for the entire trip. So, to say I was a hot mess last night would be an understatement.

Disappointment. Frustration. A not-so-great attitude.

Maybe you’ve been there too? When your plans crumble faster than you can say “orthopedic surgeon appointment”?

Between the pain and lack of sleep, I found myself alternating between reading and praying through the night. And that’s when I landed on this verse:

“Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances;

for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” — 1 Thessalonians 5:16–18

By the time the sun came up, my heart felt a lot lighter, even if my foot didn’t.

Sometimes, life (and business) doesn’t go according to plan. You can map it all out, prep for the hike, and still miss a step. But with faith, flexibility, and a good attitude reset, we keep moving forward, even if it’s on crutches for a bit.

Rooted in grace. Focused on impact.

Now What? Living for Christ in Such a Time as This

Yesterday, my husband and I spent five and a half hours watching the memorial service for Charlie Kirk. Eleven days ago, I didn’t even know who he was. Since his assassination, I’ve been learning about his life, his convictions, and the faith that shaped him.

But ultimately, this isn’t about Charlie—it’s about Jesus. Charlie’s life and his death simply stirred something in me. It caused me to reflect on my own walk with Christ and the life I’m living for Him.

I can’t help but wonder if I should have paid attention sooner. But I also know God’s timing is perfect, and He allowed me to see and hear these things at just the right moment. “He has made everything beautiful in its time” (Ecclesiastes 3:11).

Waking Up at 3 a.m.

This morning, I woke up at 3 a.m., frustrated at first, but then I remembered something John and Lisa Bevere said: sometimes those early hours are God nudging us awake.

So I got up. I journaled. And the questions that came were heavy:

• Would I sacrifice my life for Christ?

• Would I sacrifice my life for my country?

• Am I really that brave?

• And most importantly—does my life reflect one that truly lives for Christ?

The bigger question for all of us is this: What does life look like now?

Not just after the loss of one man. But in light of the gospel.

Seeds and Complacency

My heart aches for those who are searching right now, those whose seeds of faith were planted during this season but who don’t yet know where to turn. When someone is curious about God but doesn’t have strong roots yet, it’s easy for doubt, fear, or distraction to choke out what was planted.

Jesus said, “Other seeds fell on good soil and produced grain, some a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty” (Matthew 13:8). As believers, part of our calling is to help water those seeds, through prayer, encouragement, and pointing people back to Jesus, so they can grow deep roots in Him.

And as I thought about that, I realized how much I still need that same watering in my own life. I’ve known God’s goodness. I’ve walked with Him. But I also know I’ve been complacent. Distracted.

Life’s pain, surgeries, and struggles became excuses. The truth is, I allowed those distractions to create distance between me and God. And just like new believers need guidance to grow, I needed to return to the basics of faith: trust, surrender, and time with Him.

Breaking Down the Wall

Through counseling with my counselor and coaching with LisaShawCares.com, I realized I had allowed a wall to grow between God and my heart.

I knew God loved me, but I was struggling with a deeper question: Did I really believe He liked me? Did I trust Him enough to let Him all the way in?

The answer, painfully, was no.

But little by little, through prayer, guidance, and honesty, I began to open that door again. And when you say, “God, I trust You,” change begins. “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding” (Proverbs 3:5).

Small Steps Back to God

In recent weeks, we’ve returned to church for the first time in years. I had been doing personal Bible study at home, but I realized something was missing: a sense of community. God never designed us to walk this faith journey alone. We need others to pray with us, encourage us, and remind us of His truth.

We’ve also begun to honor Sabbath again, something we practiced when we were first married but let slip away over the years. The very distractions that pulled me away from God were the ones that Sabbath was meant to protect me from. Choosing to pause, rest, and set aside time for Him has been life-giving.

And already I feel the rest and renewal Jesus promised: “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28).

As I reflected during the memorial, I grieved, not only for the Kirk family, but for my own wasted years. Years of distraction, disobedience, and silence when I should have been pointing others to Christ.

But God is faithful: “Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness” (Lamentations 3:22–23).

And yes, repentance was needed.

For Such a Time as This

Over the past few weeks, I’ve watched people in the online space stand boldly for Christ, especially Erika Kirk. As I’ve learned more about her story, it’s clear how God has prepared her for the role she now finds herself in. Many have even called her a modern-day Esther.

“for such a time as this” (Esther 4:14).

It can be tempting to think that kind of courage belongs only to public figures or leaders. But the truth is, God has placed each of us in our families, workplaces, neighborhoods, and communities with the same call: to shine Christ’s light.

Every act of kindness, every word of truth, every prayer, they all matter.

Where Do We Start?

So what now?

We start where God always begins:

1. Prayer. Honest, unpolished, from-the-heart prayer. “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God” (Philippians 4:6).

2. Repentance. For complacency. For neglect. For the ways we’ve drifted. “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9).

3. God’s Word. We can’t know who we are until we know who He is. “Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path” (Psalm 119:105).

The Esther Question

So here’s the question I’m wrestling with, and maybe you are too:

👉 What does it look like to truly live for Jesus, right now, where you are?

Don’t wait for the perfect time or perfect courage. Start where you are.

Because each of us—yes, you—was born for such a time as this.

Go. Be the Esther. Point to Jesus.

Love well, Lead with hope, and Make a Difference

I didn’t expect a single text from my husband to shake me the way it did. What followed left me in tears, angry, and overwhelmed.

Last Wednesday, I was in a meeting when my husband texted me:

“Oh no, Charlie Kirk has been assassinated.”

My honest reaction? “Charlie who? And why does this matter to me?”

But that one text opened a door I wasn’t expecting.

Over the next few days, I learned about Charlie’s work and then listened to his wife, Erika, speak just days after his death. Her words stopped me in my tracks. The courage. The strength. The faith she carried through such heartbreak. It brought me to tears.

I’ll be real: last week, my heart was heavy. Not just because of the loss of life, but because of what followed. The hateful words being thrown from both sides of the political aisle. The quick posts that take a sentence out of a greater conversation and twist it. The dismissals, “Well, others have been killed and didn’t get this much attention.”

Charlie’s assassination was different. He was a conservative activist, a Christian apologist. Whether or not you agreed with his politics, his death directly touches something much bigger: our freedom to speak and live by our beliefs.

And last week was evil. There’s no other way to say it.

We can’t keep making excuses for it. At some point, each of us has to stop and ask: What can I do to stop it?

I don’t believe the government can fix this. But I do believe that each of us—through our choices, our words, our influence...can have an impact.

Because here’s the truth: we know how the story ends. Jesus has already won. It’s this messy middle part we’re writing now, and each of us has a role in steering the story with faith, courage, and love.

In the middle of it all, God reminded me again of this verse:

“When my heart is overwhelmed, lead me to the rock that is higher than I.”

(Psalm 61:2)

I can’t control the chaos. None of us can.

But I can choose how I show up:

To steady my heart when fear rises.

To speak life when anger wants the last word.

To keep showing up with courage and faith.

There are 3.5 months left in this year. And I want to spend them living with intention...loving well, leading with hope, and making a difference, however small it may seem.

This week, I’m choosing courage. I’m choosing faith. I’m choosing to make it count.

What about you?