Engraved on His Hands

Isaiah 49:16 – “Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands; thy walls are continually before me.”

There are few things more personal than our hands. They carry the fingerprints of our identity. They bear the scars of our life story.

Hands are where work is done, where comfort is given, and where love is shown. When we hold something or someone dear, we hold them close, often, in our hands.

So when God says in Isaiah 49:16, “Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my Hands,” He isn’t just offering poetic comfort. He’s declaring something sacred, something Eternal. He’s showing us how deeply and permanently we are connected to Him.

There’s something powerful about stepping back and looking at the world—not just through our eyes, but through the eyes of God. You see it in the contrast of nature:

The roar of the ocean and the stillness of a quiet morning. It’s a beautiful mix, each part shaped for a specific purpose.

The same can be said for people. We come from different backgrounds, with different stories, struggles, and gifts—but we were all made by the same loving God.

1 Corinthians 12:13 reminds us of this truth:

“For by one Spirit are we all baptized into one body, whether we be Jews or Gentiles, whether we be bond or free; and have been all made to drink into one Spirit.”

God Always Provides

Philippians 4:19 But my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus.

You’ve probably heard the phrase, “The Lord will provide.” It’s often said in moments of uncertainty when the bills are piling up, when the job offer hasn’t come yet or when the path ahead looks unstable and unclear.

But what does it truly mean when we say, “God will provide”? And how can we trust in that promise when the evidence around us seems contrary to the promise?

Jesus said one word: Come. And Peter stepped out of the boat and walked on water.

This wasn’t a calm sea. The wind was still roaring, the waves were still high. But Peter wasn’t focused on the storm—he was focused on the Savior.

One step at a time, he did what was humanly impossible. Feet that had never known water-walking found firm footing because faith was in motion.

The hill, where my wife and I live, is quiet and peaceful, the kind of place where the wind whispers old memories from time to time. Many years ago, me and my best friend used to run and play up here. Just two boys, often barefoot and full of dreams, racing the sunset, shouting nonsense, laughing until we could hardly breathe. Back then, it felt like we had all the time in the world. Forever was something we believed in, without question and without doubt.

Psalms 46:4

4 There is a river, the streams whereof shall make glad the city of God, the holy place of the tabernacles of the most High.

There is a river.

It’s not just any river, it’s the river of God. Psalm 46:4 tells us, “There is a river, the streams whereof shall make glad the city of God, the holy place of the tabernacles of the most High.” This is no ordinary body of water. It’s the very flow of life that comes from the heart of God Himself. It’s a picture of grace, joy, peace, and provision, all flowing freely from the Source, who is our loving Father.

A soft answer turneth away wrath: but grievous words stir up anger.” – Proverbs 15:1 (KJV)

Disagreements are a natural part of life. Whether among family, friends, coworkers, or even strangers, differences of opinion will arise.

The true test is not whether you will face disagreements, but how you will handle them when they come.

A Father’s Forgiveness through the lens of Romans 5:20: “Where sin increased, grace abounded all the more.” This inspiring message highlights the boundless mercy of God, showing that no mistake is too great for His redeeming love. Whether you’re seeking hope, healing, or a deeper understanding of forgiveness, this reflection will remind you that God’s grace always overcomes our failures. Perfect for devotionals, Bible studies, or personal encouragement.

But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” — Romans 5:8

There’s something sacred about the days between Good Friday and Easter Sunday. It’s a quiet kind of holy—the kind that whispers deep into your soul, reminding you of both the weight of the cross and the wonder of the resurrection.

The Formula for Failure

Scripture: 1 Peter 5:8

“Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour.”

God has a plan for our lives—a good and perfect plan, filled with purpose, peace, and victory through Christ. But we are not without opposition. The enemy of our souls, the devil, has a strategy too—a formula designed to derail us from walking in God’s best.

Habakkuk 2:3

“For the vision is yet for an appointed time, but at the end it shall speak, and not lie: though it tarry, wait for it; because it will surely come, it will not tarry.”

Waiting can feel like the hardest part of our faith. There’s something about a prolonged season of “not yet” that tests our hearts in ways we don’t realize.

But if you’ve been holding onto a promise, a dream, or a word from the Lord, I want to encourage you today: the wait is almost over.

There’s a beautiful stillness that comes when we surrender. Not the kind of surrender that leaves us empty and defeated, but a holy surrender, a letting go into the hands of the One who holds it all together. Every morning, I begin my day with a simple but powerful spiritual exercise, rooted in the truth of 1 Peter 5:7. It’s a reminder that I don’t have to carry the weight of my sin, fears, or failures into the day ahead. I don’t have to pretend I have it all together. I just have to cast my cares away, because He cares for me.

Philippians 1:6 – “Being confident of this very thing, that he which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ.”

Have you ever looked in the mirror and wondered if you were enough?

Strong enough, Smart enough, Capable enough. We all have moments where we feel like we’re not measuring up. The weight of insecurity and struggle tries to whisper, “You can’t do this. You’re too weak. You’ll never change.”

But let me tell you something beautiful and liberating: that voice is a lie.It doesn’t come from God.

There’s a quiet strength that comes from a person who walks in self-control. You’ve seen it before—maybe in someone who responds calmly in a tense moment, or someone who chooses gentleness when they could have exploded in anger. It’s not flashy or loud. It doesn’t demand attention. But it carries the weight of something steady and grounded, something whole. That kind of self-control—the kind that holds its peace in the storm—doesn’t come from sheer willpower. It comes from the inside out. And its source is the Holy Spirit.

We live in a world that’s quick to measure worth by the wrong things—how we look, what we own, how many followers we have, or how loud our voice is. It’s easy to fall into the trap of thinking that our value comes from outside approval or external achievements. But God sees things differently. He reminds us in 1 Timothy 4:12 that our true worth begins on the inside, where our hearts meet His purpose.

When I think back on the path of my life, the moments that shaped me didn’t always seem particularly meaningful at the time. Sometimes, they were simple conversations on a porch swing, or the smell of fresh cornbread in my Aunt Ree’s kitchen.

They were the quiet things, little seeds sown into the soil of my young heart, often unnoticed, but destined to bloom in their season.

Like Paul reminded Timothy in  2 Timothy 1:5, “When I call to remembrance the unfeigned faith that is in thee, which dwelt first in thy grandmother Lois, and thy mother Eunice; and I am persuaded that in thee also.”

There is a boy in me, one I never want to lose. He is the dreamer, the wanderer, the one who gazes up at the sky and wonders what it would feel like to trade places with a hawk, soaring above the trees. He is the boy who once lay on his back in the tall grass, watching the clouds drift by, shaping them into castles, and giants  roaming a world he dreams of. He is the boy who saw adventure in every fallen branch, who believed the wind carried secrets, and who was certain that beyond the horizon lay a life grander than anything he had ever known.

We love the idea that God will give us the desires of our hearts. It brings comfort, hope, and even excitement. But here’s something deeper, something that changes the way we approach not only this promise but our entire life.

The desires of our hearts do not originate from us, they originate from God.      

   Think about that for a moment.  This is not about God rubber-stamping our wish list or endorsing the dreams we come up with on our own. It’s about something far more beautiful and lasting.

It’s about how God shapes, gives, and fulfills the desires that He Himself places within us. He is both the giver of the desire and the one who brings it to pass.

Life has a way of leading us through valleys. We don’t always know how we ended up there, and we don’t always see the path out. Sometimes, the shadows in those valleys feel overwhelming, dark, looming, and full of unknowns. But what David wrote in Psalm 23 reminds us of a powerful truth: even in the darkest valleys, even in the presence of shadows, we are never alone.