Habakkuk 3:17–18 – “Though the fig tree does not bud… yet I will rejoice in the Lord.”
Job 1:21 – “The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.”
Psalm 34:1 – “I will bless the Lord at all times; his praise shall continually be in my mouth.”
Music
LyricsWhen prayers feel quiet, heaven still hears
In the waiting, in the tears When no answer lights my way Still I choose to kneel and say
Amen anyway, come joy or pain In loss or gain, my heart remains Though clouds may cover what I see I trust Your heart, Your love for me
When healing tarries, when storms won’t cease I lift my voice and find my peace Faith isn’t sight, faith is trust Even when dust returns to dust
Amen anyway, come joy or pain In loss or gain, my heart remains Though clouds may cover what I see I trust Your heart, Your love for me
Serving when I feel unseen Giving when I’m running lean Loving when there’s nothing dueThat’s how I worship, Lord, for You
Amen anyway, come joy or pain In loss or gain, my heart remains Though clouds may cover what I see I trust Your heart, Your love for me
Amen anyway
True worship isn’t only celebration after a victory. It’s choosing to say “Amen” in the middle of the unknown. Scripture teaches us faith grows deepest when we praise in the silence, when we worship in the waiting, when we serve without expecting anything in return.
Choose one area today where you can serve or worship without visible results. Do it simply because He is worthy.
Lord, help me say Amen anyway. When things are clear or confusing, joyful or painful, make my life a testimony that trust is greater than sight. Amen.
Author Testimony: – My Story: Finding Fireproof Faith
There was a time when I thought I had life figured out. Married young, committed to faith, working hard, raising kids—I checked the boxes. But faith that’s never tested is just theory, and mine would face fires I never saw coming.
The first blaze came slowly—strained relationships, health struggles, and career in Ministry burnout. Then came the inferno: divorce after decades of marriage, a complete identity shake-up. I wasn’t just losing things—I was losing *me*. Making wrong decisions all along the way, some of which I still search for healing. I found myself living alone with my daughter, trying to co-parent, battling the weight of chronic illness, and wondering what in the world God was doing. Yet I found strength in His Word, a leather-bound version that my parents had bought me for my high school graduation that survived a total loss house fire, showing me that not even the hottest flames can extinguish the Word.
But it was in that *loss* that God started rebuilding.
I started writing again. Songs. Prayers. Questions. Sometimes all mixed into one. That creative process became my quiet place with God. I didn’t write from the mountaintop—I wrote from the valley, sometimes from the floor, in tears. And yet, over time, that writing became worship. Those lyrics, laments, and eventually, declarations, brought me back to life.
What you’re reading here—this devotional—is the fruit of that fire. These aren’t just songs or studies. They’re my lifeline. They are prayers I prayed, truths I clung to, and the whisper of God’s voice when mine was gone.
If you’re starting this journey feeling tired, doubting your worth, or wondering if God can use what’s left of your story—welcome. You’re in the right place. This isn’t about perfection. It’s about presence. His presence.
And I promise you this: nothing in your life has been wasted. Not the pain. Not the pause. Not even the squirrel trails.