There are seasons in life when it feels like you have lost something important. It may be a relationship that ended, a sense of peace, a dream that did not come together, or even a version of yourself that you thought would always be there. Loss has a way of settling deep within us. It does not just affect our circumstances; it touches our hearts, our thoughts, and sometimes even our faith.

Psalm 126 speaks into that kind of experience. It begins “When the Lord brought back his exiles to Jerusalem, it was like a dream! We were filled with laughter, and we sang for joy.” (v.1-2)

They were remembering a time when the Lord restored them. They say that it felt like a dream. What God had done for them was so unexpected and so full of joy that it almost seemed unreal. These were people who had experienced deep loss and displacement, yet God brought them back and renewed what had been broken.

“Yes, the Lord has done amazing this for us! What joy!” (v.3)

This reminds us of an important truth: God is able to restore what feels lost. There is nothing in your life that is beyond His reach or His ability to redeem. At the same time, the psalm is honest about the present moment. After remembering what God has done, the people pray and ask Him to do it again. This shows us that they are living in a place of both gratitude and need. They have seen God move before, but they are still waiting for Him to move again.

“Restore our fortunes, Lord, as streams renew the desert.” (v.4)

Many of us live in that same tension. We trust God, but we are still hurting. We believe in His faithfulness, but we are still waiting for restoration in certain areas of our lives. This Psalm gives us the exact words we need to hear in this moment. It reminds us that it is possible to hold both hope and pain at the same time.

The psalm then gives a powerful image that speaks to anyone walking through sorrow. It tells us “Those who plant in tears will harvest with shouts of joy.” (v.5) This means that the tears we cry are not meaningless. The prayers we pray in pain, the faith we hold onto when life is heavy, and the steps we take even when we feel weak are not wasted.

In God’s hands, those tears become seeds. Seeds often grow in ways we cannot see at first. They are planted beneath the surface, in hidden places, before anything begins to show. In the same way, God is at work in our lives even when we do not immediately see the results. What feels like loss and sadness today can become the place where God begins to grow something new.

For those who feel like they have lost something, this psalm is a reminder to look back and remember God’s faithfulness. He has been present before, and He remains present now. For those who are still in a season of pain, this psalm is an encouragement to continue trusting God. Even when faith feels small, it still matters. Even when prayers feel heavy, God still hears them.

The promise of this passage is not that we will avoid sorrow, but that sorrow, the tears we plant are held in the hands of the One who cares about each one.  God is able to bring joy out of places that once held pain. He is able to restore, renew, and redeem in ways that we may not expect but will one day recognize.

“They weep as they go plant their seed, but they sing as they return with the harvest.” (v.6)
Sing away and let God do what God does, amazing grace!

​Prayer:
God, You see the places in my life where I feel loss and pain. You know the tears I have cried and the questions I still carry. Help me to trust that You are working, even when I cannot see it clearly. Give me strength to keep placing my life in Your hands. Restore what has been broken and grow something new in me. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

​There are some trips that leave a stamp on your passport—and others that leave a mark on your soul. My recent mission trip to Eswatini, Africa, with Soles for Jesus was one of those unforgettable journeys that has forever changed how I see God, the Church, and the world.  Let me tell you a little about it...

Preparing to Serve
​Long before we boarded a plane, God was already preparing our hearts. Through phone interviews, team meetings, devotionals, and prayer, our team began to form—not just in logistics, but in spirit. The weekly email devotionals gave me a chance to know my teammates in meaningful ways. These weren’t just introductions; they were invitations into each other’s lives. That connection made the work we did together in Eswatini even more powerful.
What stood out most in our preparation was the clarity of our mission. We were told what to expect—and to expect the unexpected. And that was key. Serving in another country isn’t about comfort; it’s about calling. It’s about flexibility, humility, and letting go of control so that God can move through us.

Ministry on the Move
​From the moment we landed, I sensed God’s presence leading every step. Whether we were on dusty roads or packed into a bus headed to a rural village, there was a clear sense that this trip was guided by divine hands.
Our accommodations and transportation were more than sufficient—but what mattered most was the spirit in which we served. Diane and the Soles for Jesus team made sure we were safe and supported, but they also helped us stay grounded in the reality that ministry is not about ease—it’s about faithfulness.

Sacred Moments in Simple Acts
Every village, every community we visited was a sacred space. We washed feet. We gave out shoes. We served hot meals. We laughed with children and prayed with elders. And in each act, I felt God whisper, “This is my kingdom.”
I was reminded of Jesus in John 13—kneeling to wash the feet of His disciples. That same posture of love and humility was present in every interaction we had. We didn’t just hand out shoes; we offered dignity. We didn’t just give food; we shared fellowship. We didn’t just visit churches and orphanages; we met the living Church—in children, pastors, widows, and neighbors who welcomed us with joy.
One of the most moving moments for me personally was when I had the honor of washing the feet of a bishop and presenting him with new shoes. With tears in his eyes, he said, “I’m being blessed by an anointed man of God.” That humbled me deeply. I wasn’t there to be anyone special—I was just there to serve. But God used that moment to show me how powerful humble service can be when it’s done in love.

Seeing Christ in Every Face
Throughout our time in Eswatini, I kept thinking of Galatians 5:13: “Serve one another humbly in love.” That’s exactly what we tried to do—and in doing so, we encountered Christ over and over again.
I’ll never forget the widows who hesitated to let us wash their feet, their eyes filled with a mix of strength and vulnerability. Or the children at the Elshadai orphanage, full of laughter and resilience. Or the moments when people shouted “Thank you, Jesus!” as they slipped on new shoes. The joy on their faces wasn’t about material gifts—it was about feeling seen, known, and loved by God.

A Heart Changed Forever
This mission trip didn’t just bless those we served. It transformed me.
I came home with a deeper awareness of how alive and active God is in places many of us will never see. He’s not just the God of our hometown—He’s the God of the whole world. The same Spirit who moves in Milwaukee is moving powerfully in Eswatini. I saw it in the pastors who pour out their hearts daily. I saw it in the widows and children who live with such deep faith despite having so little. I saw it in our team, united in purpose and fueled by prayer.
Through this experience, God taught me that love must be embodied, not just preached. Compassion must have hands and feet. And worship doesn’t always sound like music—it often looks like service.
I don’t want a faith that is only comfortable. I want a faith that moves me, stretches me, and places me in the middle of God’s work—even if it’s on the other side of the world.

Moving Forward with Purpose
Evenings spent in team devotionals and debriefs helped me see the bigger picture of what God was doing—not just through me, but through all of us. We encouraged one another, prayed together, and grew in unity. It was a reminder that mission is never a solo act—it’s always a team effort, a divine collaboration.
As I reflect on all that I experienced, one truth keeps coming back to me: God’s love is limitless. It crosses borders. It breaks barriers. And it calls us to be His hands and feet wherever He sends us.
To those of you who prayed for us, supported us, or are considering going on a mission trip yourself—thank you. Know that your love and support truly matter.
And if you’ve never experienced this kind of service before, I invite you to pray about it. Ask God to show you where He might be sending you next—whether it’s across the street or across the ocean.
My heart is full. My faith is deeper. And my eyes are now more open than ever to the heartbeat of God—a heartbeat that echoes through the villages of Eswatini and into every place where His name is lifted high.
Thank you, Eswatini. You have changed me forever.

In the face of heartbreaking tragedies like school shootings, the question of why inevitably surfaces. Why does God allow such senseless suffering? While we may not have simple answers, Scripture and the life of Christ offer us a framework to navigate these moments of deep grief and loss.
First, we affirm that it is right and Christ-like to respond by seeking to alleviate suffering. Jesus Himself was moved with compassion for the hurting and broken (Matthew 14:14). He fed the hungry, healed the sick, and comforted the mourning. Yet even in His earthly ministry, not all suffering was removed. There is a mystery to the way God works in our world—something beyond our full understanding. This does not mean we stand passively by, saying, “God sent this, and He will fix it.” That would be to deny our responsibility as God’s people. Instead, we partner with God, taking every action available to protect, heal, and restore. We pray, we advocate for change, we care for those left shattered.
Second, suffering—especially suffering on this scale—exposes profound realities about our human condition:

1. Our frailty—Life is precious and fragile, reminding us of the limits of our control.
2. Our need for God—Moments like these remind us of how much we depend on a God who is near to the brokenhearted (Psalm 34:18).
3. The sinfulness of the human condition—We are reminded that evil exists, and it runs through the human heart. Violence like this is not of God but reveals the depth of brokenness in our world.
4. Our need for repentance—In Luke 13, when people questioned Jesus about senseless tragedies—the slaughter of innocents and the collapse of a tower—Jesus reframed the question. He did not explain why. Instead, He issued a call to repentance. The message was clear: such events should not lead us to point fingers but to look inward and turn toward God.

Tragedies like this are a summons. They call us to wake up to the realities of sin, brokenness, and the need for transformation—not just in individual hearts but in communities and systems. There is a collective cry for repentance, a turning back to God’s ways of love, justice, and peace.

This is not the time for despair, though the grief is overwhelming. Nor is it the time for passive resignation. It is a time for action, reflection, and renewed dependence on God. After 9/11, churches were filled with people seeking hope and meaning, yet that spiritual hunger faded all too quickly. The challenge for us, as individuals and as the church, is to ensure that this moment of reckoning leads to lasting transformation—not fleeting resolve.
The prophet Joel spoke to a nation in crisis, facing devastation. His message was clear: Return to the Lord. In Joel’s time, the people’s repentance opened the door to renewal, leading to the great promise of the outpouring of God’s Spirit (Joel 2:28-29). It is through repentance and reliance on God that true healing and transformation begin.
So what do we do?
We seek to relieve suffering wherever we can, caring for people and their families with compassion. We participate by using our voice, time, treasures or resources to help alleviate the causes of violence in our society. We pray—not just for comfort and healing but for a deep spirit of repentance that brings about real change. And we look to the Lord, asking Him to send His Holy Spirit to bring renewal, healing, and revival to our broken hearts, our broken communities, and our broken world.
May we not emerge from this tragedy unchanged. May this be the moment when we, as a people, turn fully to God—seeking His peace, justice, and hope for all.