I’ve lived with depression for a long time. I used to feel ashamed of it. Like if I were a better Christian, maybe I wouldn’t struggle the way I do. Maybe I’d be stronger, happier, or lighter. But I’ve learned that struggling doesn’t cancel out faith. Struggling doesn’t make you less than. And God doesn’t wait until we’re perfect before he calls us his. This verse in 1 John doesn’t say that victory comes from our strength or our performance. It says that our faith is the vict

In our lives, we often face circumstances and situations that we cannot fix on our own. On those occasions, we must put our confidence and trust in the Lord. He will always help us, or tell us to stand back and watch him work.

Many of us have been there, wondering when we'll ever catch a break without strings attached. We want the job promotion without our children getting suspended and without trouble in the marriage. We want great relationships without sickness and disease robbing us of time spent with our loved ones. Yet even in the tension between setbacks and victories, God is still working.

Instead of a promise to achieve our goals, it emphasizes the inner strength we find in Christ in times of trial and hardship, as well as in times of contentment and peace. We always need to rely on Christ for our strength.

There was a period in my life when I was mentally and physically spent. My husband and I were raising two sons, one of whom has autism. I was also working at a job that required twelve hours of standing without a break and often without a meal. It was extremely stressful, and I wasn’t exactly young. I had long commutes, and my schedule was haphazard at best. However, it was necessary. Still, there were times I thought I would never make it. But God.

But the heart has other feelings. Hearts break, hearts weep, and hearts cry out for help. Hearts cling to the warm, fuzzy feelings of love, but they also hold on to profound loss, sadness, fear, and doubt. If we’re expecting our lives to look like the perfect Hallmark movie, the odds of that happening aren’t always in our favor.

Suddenly, uncontrollable tears streamed down my face as pent-up emotions surfaced. I reached for a tissue while tears flowed, and relief flooded me. God uncovered the dreadful memory of a critique where someone’s harsh criticism plunged me into deep despair. After forgiving her, I thought everything was well, but it didn’t erase the words stuck in my head.

We love the idea of God fighting for us. We pray and ask Him to step in and change our circumstances—the cancer diagnosis, the lawsuit, the struggling marriage, the wandering child. And often, He moves in powerful ways. But God’s faithfulness does not always look like immediate rescue or visible victory. Sometimes His work is quieter, deeper, and more mysterious than we expect. Scripture shows us that while God is always present and always good.

Here’s what I’m slowly learning. Letting go doesn’t mean I don’t care. Resting doesn’t mean I’m lazy. Being still doesn’t mean I’m failing. It means I trust that God loves my family even more than I do. It means I believe he’s working behind the scenes, even when I can’t see it. It means I choose to believe I don’t have to fight every battle on my own. That kind of stillness takes courage, especially when you’re used to doing it all.

When I hear the word unstoppable, I usually think of progress. Forward motion. Checking boxes and getting things done. I think of effort, determination, and pushing through no matter how tired I feel. But God has been teaching me that unstoppable does not always look like constant movement. Sometimes it looks like letting go and trusting him to take the lead.

We often face situations that seem insurmountable, with no way out or resolution. It may even feel like we’re going under for the last time. We may think our fate is sealed and that we have no hope. Common sense, logic, reason, and rational thought tell us to give up and accept our fate. Just toughen up and take it like a man. That’s the exact opposite of what we should do.