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Raychel Writes

  • Five Days That Revealed More Than I Expected

    February 7th, 2026

    My husband led our family into five days of fasting, initially intending on ten — mirroring the testing period Daniel and his friends underwent in chapter 1, where their diet proved sufficient.

    But sitting more deeply with that passage now, having walked through even a portion of it myself, I see something with greater clarity:

    It definitely wasn’t the food.

    It was GOD the whole time.

    I knew that before.

    Now I know it in a way that has been lived.

    Because God didn’t just sustain Daniel and his friends so they could survive a dietary restriction — He sustained them so they could thrive, preparing them to be used for His glory before not just one king, but multiple kings and generations.

    And what has become unmistakably clear to me is this:

    Their usefulness had nothing to do with fasting.

    It had everything to do with obedience.

    Everything to do with resolve.

    Everything to do with honoring God long before anyone was watching.

    These five days have been incredibly revealing.

    Not just spiritually — but personally.

    Following my husband’s leadership required a deeper level of surrender than I anticipated. Agreeing to something when you believe it will stretch ten days is one thing… continuing with a steady heart when it is already hard by day two is another.

    Scripture calls me to trust the leadership God has placed in my home, and I do — not because it is always comfortable, but because it is right.

    Submission is not weakness.

    It is alignment.

    Early on, I could feel resentment trying to creep in. I could feel how easy it would have been to blame Shaun for leading us into something that was incredibly hard for me — especially as someone who is not a vegetable lover and firmly believes fruit belongs as a snack or dessert, not a meal.

    But I was not going to allow discomfort to produce dishonor.

    So I made decisions — sometimes moment by moment — to walk this out rightly.

    I didn’t do it perfectly in the beginning.

    But I learned quickly that being “hangry” is never an excuse for being unkind.

    And somewhere in these days, something shifted:

    Prayer stopped being something I carved time out for…

    and started becoming my reflex.

    When hunger hit — I prayed.

    When frustration surfaced — I prayed.

    When my strength felt low — I prayed.

    The noise quieted.

    My focus sharpened.

    My gratitude deepened.

    My reverence for the Lord grew.

    Fasting has a way of exposing what you didn’t realize you leaned on… and reminding you Who actually sustains you.

    God accomplished more in these five days than I could have measured beforehand, and Shaun has decided to lead us out of the fast. I trust his leadership in that fully.

    Some may feel disappointed we didn’t continue to ten days, but I can assure you:

    I have already learned ten days worth of lessons — and those lessons are not ending just because the fast has.

    We are still processing.

    Still learning.

    Still having meaningful conversations with our family and others about what the Lord revealed.

    And if I’m being completely honest…

    I haven’t reached for a steak, yet….

    Bread hasn’t called my name.

    Chips remain untouched.

    I haven’t even chased down a chicken nugget.

    Apparently the Lord was doing more than adjusting my diet — He was recalibrating my heart.

    I also learned something about my relationship with food… and about discipline… and about drowning out the noise so I could hear Him more clearly.

    This journey stretched me.

    It refined me.

    It reminded me that God is faithful to sustain what He calls us to walk through.

    And for those wondering about Shaun after leading his non-veggie-loving wife into a fast…

    He’s still alive.

    People have seen him today.

    Wink. 😉

    But truly — the greatest thing revealed in these five days was not my endurance.

    It was God’s sustaining presence.

    Five days may not sound significant to some.

    But when the Lord is at work, transformation is never measured by a number.

    It is measured by obedience.

    And I know without question:

    God was in it the whole time.

  • Day 5 — When Hunger Turns Into Prayer

    February 6th, 2026

    Last night I cried real tears.

    I’m pretty sure it was emotional overwhelm — and honestly, I didn’t see that coming.

    Our family dinners don’t look the same right now. About half of us are fasting and half aren’t, and those big sit-down meals that usually feel so normal suddenly feel… different.

    And if I’m continuing in full honesty — I still don’t like vegetables, and fruit is meant to be a snack or dessert, not a meal.

    In my opinion anyway 🤷🏻‍♀️

    Meals, to me, are meant to be enjoyed around a table with people you love. It’s never been just about the food — it’s the fellowship that fills me. But let’s not pretend the savory goodness of a ribeye doesn’t help. Or the slab of salmon in the fridge waiting to be smoked…..or even chicken nuggets.

    Last night I noticed something in my heart that I want to pay attention to.

    I saw how easy it would be to become resentful toward my husband.

    He felt the Lord leading us into this fast and chose to follow. I joined him — not because this was something I deeply wanted to do — but because I wanted to support his leadership and walk beside him.

    And somewhere between gagging down oatmeal, brown rice and missing steak bites, I realized I could very easily blame him for what I don’t get to eat right now.

    But that wouldn’t be helpful… and it certainly wouldn’t be right.

    Then another thought surfaced that stopped me a little:

    If I’m not careful, resentment toward people can quietly turn into resentment toward God.

    And isn’t that the slow drift we see in King Nebuchadnezzar? A heart that resisted the Lord until humility was no longer optional.

    I am not trying to become that hard-headed… or hard-hearted.

    What surprised me most is that the opposite is actually happening.

    My reverence is growing — not diminishing.

    Because every time I start lamenting what I consider “real food,” it is becoming a trigger for prayer.

    Hunger is turning my heart toward God instead of away from Him.

    And I am noticing something shift:

    My prayer reflex is getting stronger.

    Not perfect.

    But stronger.

    Much like Daniel’s quiet resolve — a steady turning toward God again and again.

    And clearly… that is the point.

    Not dietary restriction.

    Not spiritual performance.

    But dependence.

    Fasting has a way of revealing what normally stays hidden under comfort. It exposes how quickly we reach for satisfaction — and how rarely we sit with need.

    Yet need has a purpose.

    Need reminds us we are not self-sufficient.

    Need softens us.

    Need draws us closer.

    So here on day five, I am realizing this fast is not really about food at all.

    It is about surrender.

    Choosing unity in my marriage.

    Guarding my heart from resentment.

    Letting discomfort become prayer.

    And learning, slowly, what it means to live with open hands before the Lord.

    I may still miss steak… but I don’t want to miss what God is forming in me.

  • Daniel 3 — Obedience Even When I Don’t Fully Understand

    February 5th, 2026

    (Day 4 of the Fast)

    Daniel chapter 3 is famous. Well known. Songs have been written about it. Most of us have heard this story many times.

    But today, on this fourth day of my fast, a couple things are sitting with me a little more deeply and with more clarity.

    First — something from yesterday.

    I lifted up a situation to the Lord that I had been worrying anxiously over. I finally surrendered it instead of mentally trying to solve it from every angle.

    Within three hours, God settled it.

    This has actually happened once before recently — where He responded so quickly. Mine and God’s timelines don’t always line up… His is always right, of course. I’m just impatient.

    As I was praising Him for His goodness, I also found myself lamenting all the unnecessary worrying I had done beforehand.

    Why do I do that?

    If I’m honest, sometimes it’s almost like I don’t want to bother God. He has so much going on already — surely He doesn’t need me bringing every little thing to Him. So I try to figure it out myself first… and then when I can’t, I ask.

    There is some reverence in that posture because I respect God so deeply. I hate the thought of troubling Him with things that aren’t life and death.

    But it’s still wrong.

    Because He literally tells us not to do that.

    Yesterday I was gently encouraged by someone who said so calmly,

    “Yeah… He wants us to bring it all to Him. Whatever it is.”

    That stuck with me.

    What I also noticed yesterday — and wrote about — was Daniel’s reflex in chapter 2. When fear hit, his first response was prayer.

    Not panic.

    Not problem-solving.

    Prayer.

    Kind of like that question — when you get scared, do you freeze or fight?

    Daniel turned to God immediately.

    I’d love to tell you that’s always my reflex… but it isn’t. Too often I try to handle things before I invite God into them.

    So — new goal unlocked:

    Let prayer be my first reflex, not my last resort.

    Then today I moved into chapter 3.

    When Daniel’s friends were told they must worship the golden statue or be thrown into the fire, they made something incredibly clear:

    They believed God could deliver them.

    I’m doing pretty well there — I absolutely believe in God’s power.

    But they didn’t stop with God can.

    They followed it with,

    “But even if He doesn’t…”

    Even if He doesn’t deliver us…

    Even if it costs us our lives…

    We will still obey Him.

    That kind of obedience is what I’m relating to right now.

    Now let me be clear — this fast is not a fiery furnace. Not even close.

    But it is revealing something about obedience in my own heart.

    Because if I’m continuing in honesty…

    I still don’t like this fast.

    McDonald’s texted me about chicken nuggets today and my mouth watered.

    The grown kids — who are not participating — cooked steak yesterday, and walking through that kitchen was a true test of restraint.

    And yesterday I also sat at a Mexican restaurant with my mother and did not eat chips and queso.

    As a Texan… that is COMMITMENT.

    I still don’t fully see the absolute necessity of a fast. I don’t completely understand it.

    But practicing obedience and submission — when it’s not unbiblical — is good practice for the heart.

    It reminds me that I am not actually in charge.

    It loosens my grip on comfort.

    It teaches me what it looks like to live surrendered.

    So even though I don’t fully understand…

    I’m choosing obedience anyway.

    Because sometimes the shaping happens in the obedience — not before it.

    And maybe living surrendered means trusting God enough to follow… even when I’m still asking questions along the way.

    These are the words that are echoing in my heart today.

    If it be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the furnace of blazing fire; and He will deliver us out of your hand, O king.

    18 “But even if He does not, let it be known to you, O king, that we are not going to serve your gods or worship the golden image that you have set up.”

     (Daniel 3:17–19, NASB95)

  • When Praise Changes Your Appetite

    February 4th, 2026

    Daniel 2 — Trading Hangry for Holy Perspective

    Today is Day 3 of the Daniel Fast.

    And I’m going to be honest — when I first read Daniel chapter 1, my eyes locked onto that ten–day testing period.

    Ten days I could understand.

    Ten days felt manageable.

    After all, the training program for these young men was three years long, but the food test was only ten. When the vegetables and water proved sufficient — certainly with the Lord’s help — they continued in that way.

    But if I’m being real transparent…

    I wasn’t immediately seeing the case for a modern-day fast.

    I wasn’t seeing a prescribed twenty-one days.

    I wasn’t seeing a detailed food list.

    And it might have been dinner time.

    And I might have been a little hangry.

    You know — that delightful spiritual condition where you are so hungry you are also slightly angry? Yes… that one.

    But instead of quitting, I sat down with my bowl of lima beans and opened Daniel chapter 2.

    And everything shifted.

    From Anxiety to Awe

    King Nebuchadnezzar had demanded the impossible — that his wise men not only interpret his dream but tell him what it was.

    Failure meant death.

    No pressure.

    When Daniel heard the decree, he didn’t panic.

    He didn’t spiral.

    He didn’t complain about the unfairness of it all.

    He asked for time — and then he gathered his friends to pray.

    Let that sink in.

    Daniel’s reflex was dependence on God.

    And God responded.

    Scripture tells us the mystery was revealed to Daniel in a night vision, and what followed was not self-congratulation…

    It was worship.

    “Blessed be the name of God forever and ever, to whom belong wisdom and might.” — Daniel 2:20

    As I read Daniel praising the Lord for His wisdom, power, and sovereignty — something in my own heart recalibrated.

    I suddenly could not sit there and eat my beans angrily anymore.

    How could I fixate on what wasn’t on my plate when I serve a God who reveals mysteries?

    A Perspective Adjustment (Served With Oatmeal)

    Earlier that day I had eaten what I lovingly referred to as a bowl of horse feed — oatmeal with blueberries.

    For the record, I have never been able to eat oatmeal. It’s a texture thing. In my mind, oats belong to horses.

    And yet…

    Here I am on Day 3, getting it down without gagging.

    Honestly? That alone feels like something God is worthy of praise over. 🤣

    It may sound small — but fasting has a way of exposing just how attached we are to comfort.

    Even textural comfort.

    What Daniel Shows Us About God

    Daniel chapter 2 pulls back the curtain on the character of God in breathtaking ways.

    He is:

    All-knowing — revealing what no human could discover Sovereign — establishing kings and removing them Wise beyond measure The One who brings light into darkness

    Daniel understood something we often forget:

    The same God who governs empires is intimately involved in the lives of His people.

    And when that truth settles into your heart…

    Complaining starts to feel wildly out of place.

    Fasting Is Doing What It Was Always Meant to Do

    I’ll admit — I started this fast thinking mostly about food.

    What I could eat.

    What I couldn’t eat.

    How I was going to cook for everyone.

    But already God is gently redirecting my gaze.

    Fasting is not about earning favor with God.

    Orthodox Christianity is clear — we are saved by grace alone.

    Fasting is about posture.

    It quiets the noise.

    It loosens our grip on comforts.

    It reminds us where our true dependence lies.

    And sometimes… it simply helps us notice God again.

    Even over a bowl of oatmeal.

    A Better Appetite

    Somewhere between Daniel’s prayer and his praise, my own appetite began to change.

    Not just physically — spiritually.

    I found myself wanting less irritation and more awe.

    Less focus on what I lack and more gratitude for who God is.

    Because when you remember how awesome God is…

    Even lima beans lose their ability to offend you.

    Well — mostly. 🙂

    So here I am on Day 3.

    Still learning.

    Still stretching.

    Still occasionally side-eyeing my dinner.

    But also increasingly aware that God is meeting me here — not because my diet is perfect, but because my heart is turning toward Him.

    And that alone is worth praising.

  • When Obedience Looks Like Fruit and Vegetables

    February 3rd, 2026

    Daniel 1 — Faithfulness in the Small Things

    A little something different today.

    A few weeks ago at church our pastor spoke about fasting. This is not something our family has ever practiced before, so naturally we were intrigued — and if I’m honest — a little intimidated.

    My husband felt the Lord nudging him to study it more deeply and step into it. Wanting to support his leadership, grow spiritually, and lean into whatever the Lord might teach us, I chose to follow. We even invited our grown kids into the conversation, and some of them decided to join us.

    Let me be real transparent.

    I am a meat, bread, and potatoes kind of girl.

    I hunt the things that eat the salad.

    A carnivore diet? I could thrive. But this? This is stretching me.

    When dinner rolled around on night one, my touch of tism was practically waving a red flag over the kitchen. No meat? No starch? No tidy little “protein-carb-veggie” formula that my brain likes to organize?

    And somehow I was expected to cook for seven people — some Daniel fasting, others eating completely normal meals that smelled amazing.

    It wasn’t pretty.

    But I persevered.

    And somewhere between chopping vegetables and resisting the urge to bury my face in a loaf of bread, I realized something important:

    I might be missing the point.

    Fasting isn’t about mastering a menu.

    It’s about surrendering the comforts we don’t realize we cling to.

    So this week I’ve added the book of Daniel to my reading alongside Psalms. I often feel more at home in the New Testament — Jesus appears immediately and everything feels clearer to me. But the Old Testament matters deeply because it reveals God’s character. It shows us how He moves, how He sustains, and how faithful He is long before the manger.

    Daniel’s Quiet Resolve

    One of the first things that brought me relief in Daniel 1 was the ten–day testing period.

    “Test your servants for ten days… then compare our appearance.” (Daniel 1:12)

    Ten days feels doable. Faith sometimes grows best when we simply commit to the next faithful step rather than imagining forever.

    But what struck me most was not the vegetables.

    It was Daniel’s resolve.

    “Daniel resolved that he would not defile himself…” (Daniel 1:8)

    No one forced this decision on him.

    No crowd was watching.

    No applause was coming.

    Daniel honored God in private before God ever honored him in public.

    And what followed is a pattern we see throughout Scripture:

    Commitment → God’s presence → God’s provision

    Daniel chose obedience, and the Lord was with him.

    Daniel chose restraint, and the Lord sustained him.

    This thread runs from Genesis to Revelation:

    Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you.

    Emmanuel — God with us.

    The Spirit coming upon believers.

    The Lord strengthening those who choose Him.

    God has never asked His people to walk in faithfulness alone.

    Faith Is Proven in the Living

    Reading this chapter forced me to examine something uncomfortable:

    It is very easy to say we believe.

    It is much harder to live like we do.

    We can speak fluent “Christianese,” quote Scripture, and nod along in church — but our daily behaviors reveal our true heart posture.

    Daniel didn’t just believe God.

    He aligned his actions with that belief.

    Even when it cost him comfort.

    Even when it made him different.

    Even when it would have been easier not to.

    Obedience is rarely loud — but it is always powerful.

    What Fasting Is Teaching Me

    I’m only at the beginning of this journey, but already the Lord is showing me things I might have missed otherwise.

    Fasting exposes attachments.

    It reveals where we reach for comfort instead of Christ.

    It reminds us that our strength is not found in what fills our plates, but in the One who fills our souls.

    And perhaps most encouraging of all:

    If God could sustain Daniel on vegetables and water in a pagan culture…

    He can certainly sustain me in my suburban kitchen.

    So for now, I’m focusing on my own “ten days.”

    Choosing obedience in what feels small.

    Trusting God to meet me there.

    Because Scripture shows us again and again — when we draw near to Him…

    He always draws near to us.

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  • Wisdom from the Word Day 31 (we made it!

    January 31st, 2026

    Proverbs 31 | Wisdom Worth Passing Down

    I have read Proverbs 31 more times than I can count, and if I’m being honest… I used to dread it.

    It often felt less like Scripture and more like a performance review.

    Until a seminary professor reframed it in such a way that I finally saw what had been there all along — this chapter is not meant to crush us; it is meant to call us upward.

    But this morning, I found myself lingering somewhere I had apparently rushed past for years — the first nine verses.

    How did I miss them?

    Before we ever meet the “excellent wife,” we encounter a mother forming the character of a king.

    These are not casual suggestions. They are weighty, intentional instructions from someone who understands that leadership begins with self-governance.

    She warns him about excess, about the dulling of judgment, about anything that might cause him to forget justice. And then she says something that should stop every reader in their tracks:

    “Open your mouth for the mute,

    For the rights of all the unfortunate.

    Open your mouth, judge righteously,

    And defend the rights of the afflicted and needy.”

    — Proverbs 31:8–9 (NASB)

    Before Scripture ever describes a capable woman, it shows us a wise mother shaping a capable man.

    Do not miss this — her influence reaches far beyond her own life. It touches a throne. It protects the vulnerable. It establishes justice.

    And isn’t that what faithful parenting has always done?

    Then the passage shifts to the woman so many of us know well — the one described as “excellent,” or in some translations, “virtuous.” But the Hebrew word here carries the sense of strength, capability, and noble character.

    This is not a fragile woman.

    This is a formidable one.

    Yes, she fears the Lord — because all true wisdom begins there (Proverbs 9:10). Her life is built on reverence, not reputation.

    She plans. She provides. She considers fields and buys them. She manages her household with foresight instead of reaction. Strength and dignity are not things she chases; they are what clothe her because of the life she walks with God.

    And one detail I never want us to overlook:

    “She extends her hand to the poor,

    And she stretches out her hands to the needy.” (v.20)

    Her competence does not turn her inward — it turns her outward.

    That is the mark of mature faith.

    Reading this now, I don’t see an impossible woman.

    I see mothers.

    I see women who fall into bed exhausted because loving people well is costly.

    I see planners, schedulers, budget-stretchers, appointment-jugglers, lunch-packers, prayer-warriors, problem-solvers, and late-night worriers.

    Whether we work inside the home or outside of it… whether we run businesses, ministries, carpools, or all three… we are constantly looking for ways to steward what God has entrusted to us.

    We delegate so our children learn responsibility.

    We nurture strength so we can keep showing up.

    We think three steps ahead because someone has to.

    This is not small work.

    It is kingdom work.

    But here is where I want to gently release something for anyone who still feels the old weight when reading this chapter:

    Proverbs 31 is not a checklist.

    It is a trajectory.

    It is what a life shaped by the fear of the Lord becomes over time, not overnight.

    The woman described here is not frantic — she is faithful.

    And perhaps my favorite reminder in the entire chapter comes near the end:

    “Charm is deceitful and beauty is vain,

    But a woman who fears the Lord, she shall be praised.”

    — Proverbs 31:30 (NASB)

    Not the most productive woman.

    Not the most admired woman.

    Not the woman who does it all flawlessly.

    The woman who fears the Lord.

    Everything else flows from there.

    So if you read this chapter today and feel less like her and more like someone who is simply trying — take heart.

    Faithfulness is formed in the daily rhythms most people never applaud.

    Meals cooked.

    Prayers whispered.

    Tears wiped.

    Budgets balanced.

    Truth taught.

    Love repeated again and again.

    Long before the city gates praise her, heaven already sees her.

    And maybe the greatest surprise of Proverbs 31 is this:

    The chapter doesn’t end by telling the woman to rise earlier or work harder.

    It tells everyone else to recognize her.

    “Give her the product of her hands,

    And let her works praise her in the gates.” (v.31)

    So today, instead of dreading this chapter, I receive it as an invitation — not to perfection, but to steady, God-fearing faithfulness.

    Because a life rooted in reverence for the Lord will always produce fruit that outlives us.

    And that kind of legacy is not only attainable…

    It is already being written in the quiet obedience of ordinary days.

  • Wisdom from the Word Day 30

    January 30th, 2026

    Day 30

    Proverbs 30 | The Words of Agur

    Proverbs 30 feels different — and not in a subtle way.

    Up until now, Proverbs has often allowed us to nod along. We recognize ourselves in the warnings, underline a verse, maybe feel mildly convicted, but still comfortable enough to keep reading with coffee in hand.

    Then Agur steps in… and suddenly the room gets quiet.

    This chapter doesn’t feel like an introduction to wisdom — it feels like a graduate seminar. There’s urgency here. Depth. A humility that borders on desperation. Agur doesn’t posture as someone who has wisdom; he writes like someone who knows how desperately he needs God.

    Right out of the gate, Agur admits something we don’t say out loud very often:

    “Surely I am more stupid than any man,
    And I do not have the understanding of a man.” (Proverbs 30:2, NASB)

    That’s not false humility. That’s spiritual clarity.

    Agur understands that wisdom doesn’t begin with intelligence, experience, or age — it begins with knowing our limits. He’s not saying truth is unknowable; he’s saying God is not manageable. And that aligns beautifully with orthodox Christianity. The Nicene Creed affirms that God is the Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth — not a concept we master, but a Person we submit to.

    Agur asks questions we aren’t meant to answer on our own:

    “Who has ascended into heaven and descended?
    Who has gathered the wind in His fists?” (v.4)

    The implied answer is clear: not us.

    And yet — here’s where I love this chapter — Agur doesn’t spiral into despair. He anchors himself in the one place orthodoxy tells us we can stand confidently:

    “Every word of God is tested;
    He is a shield to those who take refuge in Him.” (v.5)

    When our understanding runs out, God’s Word doesn’t.
    When our theology feels stretched thin, Scripture holds firm.
    And when pride creeps in quietly (as it so often does), Agur pulls us back to dependence.

    Then comes one of the most honest prayers in all of Proverbs:

    “Keep lies and deception far from me. Give me neither poverty nor riches;
    Feed me with the food that is my portion.” (v.8

    This isn’t the prayer of someone chasing comfort — it’s the prayer of someone chasing faithfulness. Agur knows that abundance can make us forget God, and lack can tempt us to dishonor Him. That’s grown-up faith right there. The kind that knows the heart is fragile and asks God for guardrails, not glory.

    And then — just when you think you’ve caught your breath — Agur starts listing things that are never satisfied, behaviors that betray arrogance, patterns that expose pride. It’s uncomfortable. On purpose. Wisdom isn’t meant to soothe us; it’s meant to shape us.

    Proverbs 30 reminds me that maturity in faith doesn’t look like having all the answers. It looks like reverence. Restraint. Knowing when to say, “Lord, You are God… and I am not.”

    If earlier chapters taught me how to live wisely, this one teaches me how to kneel wisely.

    And if I’m honest? Some days I want the elementary lessons back. This chapter asks more of me. But maybe that’s the point. God doesn’t leave us where we started. He grows us — sometimes by humbling us — always by drawing us closer to Himself.

    Grown-up faith isn’t louder.
    It’s lower.
    And it’s learning, day by day, to trust the God whose wisdom will always outrun ours.

  • Wisdom from the Word Day 29

    January 29th, 2026

    Proverbs 29 – Warnings, Instructions, and the Mercy of Maturity

    Proverbs 29 is one of those chapters that’s easy to nod along with. Yes, that’s true. Yes, that makes sense. Yes, I should do that.

    But sitting with it a little longer, I’m reminded that wisdom isn’t proven by agreement — it’s proven by obedience over time.

    This chapter is full of warnings about unchecked speech, quick tempers, pride, fear of people, and stubborn hearts. And if I’m honest, I can look back at my earlier years and see myself in far too many of those verses. I was quick with my words. I spoke too much and listened too little. I let frustration spill out before wisdom ever had a chance to catch up. And there were seasons where I feared people — their approval, their opinions, their reactions — more than I feared the Lord.

    That’s a humbling realization, but it’s also a hopeful one.

    Proverbs 29 reminds us that foolishness doesn’t usually announce itself loudly. It often feels justified in the moment. Our anger feels reasonable. Our words feel necessary. Our fear of people feels like wisdom or caution. But Scripture gently — and sometimes sharply — exposes those instincts for what they are when they aren’t submitted to God.

    One verse that stands out is the reminder that the fear of man brings a snare, but he who trusts in the Lord will be exalted. Fear of people traps us. It shapes our speech, our silence, our decisions, and even our obedience. When we are more concerned with how we are perceived than whether we are faithful, we slowly lose clarity. Trusting the Lord doesn’t mean we stop caring about others — it means we stop letting their opinions outrank God’s authority.

    Another theme woven through this chapter is restraint — especially in speech and anger. Wisdom is not loud. It doesn’t rush to speak. It isn’t reactive. Proverbs 29 contrasts the foolish person who vents freely with the wise person who holds back, not because they have nothing to say, but because they know when not to say it. That kind of restraint doesn’t come naturally. It’s formed over time, through conviction, correction, and the quiet work of sanctification.

    And that’s what gives me such relief when I read this chapter.

    Because I don’t read Proverbs 29 as someone who has “arrived.” I read it as someone who can see God’s faithfulness in the process. I can look back and recognize where He has softened my tongue, slowed my temper, and shifted my focus from people to Him. Not perfectly — but genuinely. That’s grace at work.

    Proverbs doesn’t exist to shame us for who we were; it trains us for who we are becoming. And sanctification is rarely dramatic. It’s often subtle, slow, and only obvious in hindsight. Growth looks like noticing that you pause before speaking. That you pray before reacting. That you care less about being right and more about being righteous.

    Proverbs 29 doesn’t just warn us — it invites us. To humility. To teachability. To trusting the Lord more than ourselves or others. And to thank God for the ways He has already been at work, even when we didn’t recognize it at the time.

    If you see your old self in these verses, don’t despair. Rejoice. It means God is still shaping you — and He isn’t finished yet.

  • Wisdom from the Word Day 28

    January 28th, 2026

    Proverbs 28: Standing Tall in the Fear of the Lord

    Proverbs 28 is full of warnings, yes—but they’re delivered in a way that actually encourages you. This chapter doesn’t shame; it steadies. It makes you sit up taller, check your footing, and remember that walking with the Lord is not meant to feel timid or uncertain.

    One of the most quoted (and often joked about) verses lives here:

    “The wicked flee when no one is pursuing,

    But the righteous are bold as a lion.” (v.1, NASB)

    I’ll admit—I’ve quoted this out of context more than once as a joke about running. 😄

    But in its proper place, it’s not about cardio or paranoia—it’s about conscience.

    When we live in compromise, we’re always looking over our shoulder. But when we walk uprightly before the Lord, there’s a quiet confidence that follows—not arrogance, not bravado, just peace. The kind of boldness that comes from knowing where you stand.

    This chapter reminds us again and again that obedience brings clarity. When we seek the Lord, our judgment sharpens. When we ignore Him, even obvious things become confusing. Proverbs 28 doesn’t separate belief from behavior—it assumes they are deeply connected.

    There’s also a strong warning here about pretending we don’t see our own sin:

    “He who conceals his transgressions will not prosper,

    But he who confesses and forsakes them will find compassion.” (v.13)

    That’s not a threat—it’s an invitation. God isn’t asking for perfection; He’s asking for honesty. Confession isn’t humiliation—it’s the doorway to mercy.

    And threaded all through this chapter is a reminder our culture resists: leadership, justice, and provision all flow from fearing the Lord, not from cleverness or self-reliance. When righteousness is absent, everyone feels it. When it’s present, it blesses far beyond the individual.

    Proverbs 28 doesn’t call us to be louder or tougher—it calls us to be aligned. To fear the Lord, walk uprightly, and trust that obedience produces a steadiness no amount of self-confidence ever could.

    And maybe… to stop running when no one’s chasing us. 🤣

  • Wisdom from the Word Day 27

    January 27th, 2026

    Proverbs 27: Faithful Wounds and Daily Wisdom

    Proverbs 27 feels like a rapid-fire list of warnings and instructions, but underneath all of it is a single, steady theme: wisdom is lived out in everyday relationships and ordinary faithfulness.

    This chapter doesn’t give us lofty theology. It gives us practical guardrails. And if we’re honest, that’s often where obedience gets hardest.

    Right out of the gate, we’re reminded of how little control we actually have:

    “Do not boast about tomorrow,

    For you do not know what a day may bring.” (v.1)

    This isn’t meant to make us anxious—it’s meant to make us humble. Planning isn’t sinful, but presumption is. Proverbs 27 calls us to hold tomorrow with open hands, trusting the Lord rather than assuming our own certainty.

    Then we’re warned about something that quietly erodes character—unchecked pride and comparison:

    “Let another praise you, and not your own mouth.” (v.2)

    There’s a difference between confidence and self-promotion. Wisdom doesn’t need a spotlight. Faithfulness speaks for itself over time.

    One of the most uncomfortable truths in this chapter is also one of the most loving:

    “Faithful are the wounds of a friend,

    But deceitful are the kisses of an enemy.” (v.6)

    We live in a culture that equates love with agreement, but Scripture tells us something deeper. A friend who loves you enough to speak truth—even when it stings—is a gift. Flattery feels good in the moment, but it rarely leads to growth. Correction, when rooted in love, is an act of grace.

    Proverbs 27 also warns us not to isolate ourselves:

    “Iron sharpens iron,

    So one person sharpens another.” (v.17)

    Growth doesn’t happen in spiritual solitude. God uses relationships—sometimes uncomfortable ones—to refine us. Being sharpened means friction. It means humility. And it means allowing others to see us clearly.

    The chapter closes by grounding wisdom in daily diligence:

    “Know well the condition of your flocks,

    And pay attention to your herds.” (v.23)

    This isn’t just agricultural advice—it’s a call to stewardship. Wisdom pays attention. It tends what God has entrusted instead of chasing what hasn’t been given. Faithfulness in small, unseen responsibilities matters deeply to the Lord.

    Proverbs 27 doesn’t ask us to be impressive.

    It asks us to be humble, teachable, faithful, and attentive.

    And maybe that’s why it feels like it needs a whole notebook—because wisdom isn’t something we read once and move on from. It’s something we return to, daily, letting the Lord shape our hearts one instruction at a time.

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