Author: Sam

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Gracefully Removing Yourself from a Dumpster Fire: How-to

a hand holding a mug near the wooden table with letter board

There comes a moment in most women’s lives, usually somewhere between the group text meltdown and post-dance mom competition, when it hits you:
“Wait… are we just… gossiping right now?”

And then there’s the slow horror of knowing it’s your turn to say something. Or not.
You feel it in your stomach. Your conscience is squirming. Your inner people-pleaser is sweating bullets.
You want to shut it down.
You also want to avoid sounding like a total jerk.

Because let’s be honest:
Most of us don’t want to be that girl.
(You know, the one who starts quoting Proverbs mid-convo while everyone’s still passing guac and chips.)

But you also don’t want to sit there and give approval while someone verbally sets fire to another human being’s reputation.

So what’s a grown ass woman, with decent boundaries and a heart for Jesus, supposed to do?

First off: It’s going to feel weird, and that’s okay.

Standing up to gossip feels uncomfortable. Especially when it’s subtle. When it’s dressed up in concern. Or half-whispers. Or Christianese.

No one hands you a script. No angel shows up and says, “Speak now, O daughter of the King!”
It’s just you, your conscience, and your internal dialogue freaking out:
“Do I say something? Do I fake a bathroom emergency? Do I order another drink and hope this goes away?”

Here’s the good news: you don’t have to make it awkward. You just have to make a choice.

Here are my 5 Favorite Ways to Shut It Down

1. The Casual Pivot

“Oh wow. Hey, have you tried that new taco place by Target? So yummy.”

This is your smooth redirection, like you used to do with your toddlers when they wouldn’t give up a friend’s toy. Your emergency exit. Bonus points if it’s a totally unrelated topic like gluten-free muffins or microblading your eyebrows. No one will know what hit them.

2. The Unexpected Compliment (my personal favorite)

“You know, I’ve actually seen her handle that really well. She’s been through a lot.”

It lands softly, but it hits hard. You just quietly reminded everyone there’s a whole human behind the tea.

3. The “It’s Me, Not You” Move

“I’m working on not repeating stuff I didn’t hear firsthand. Could we change the subject?”

It’s the modern vibe of “Girl, you do you, and I’ll do me.” You’re not calling them out. You’re owning your own growth. No shame. Just a quick shift of gears with a side of maturity.

4. Poof! Gone

“Be right back!”
(This is where you hide in the bathroom)

You’re allowed to leave the conversation. Even mid-sentence. Even if it’s your mom group, small group, or carpool crew.

5. Stop and Pray

“Let’s pray for her.”

Depending on your audience, this may bring things to a halt. Or it may get awkward. Real awkward. But hey, sometimes, doing the right thing isn’t easy. At the very least, it plants a seed and shifts the topic.

The Harsh Truth

“A gossip betrays a confidence; so avoid anyone who talks too much.”
— Proverbs 20:19

Look. This doesn’t mean ghost your friend for life because she shared something she shouldn’t have.
It just means, don’t match her energy.
Don’t pick up what’s not yours to carry.
Don’t toss logs on a fire you weren’t called to ignite.

A Few Reminders

  • You can be wise and warm.
  • You can protect peace without preaching a 3-point sermon.
  • You can excuse yourself from the table without making a scene.

This isn’t about shutting people down. It’s about not letting someone else’s verbal diarrhea suck you in.

You’re not the gossip police.
You’re just trying to honor truth more than drama…and that is more aligned with the heart of Jesus.

Reflect

  • When was the last time I sat in a gossip-y conversation and said nothing, but felt awful?
  • What would it look like to leave one of those moments with quiet dignity instead of regret?
  • What phrase should I keep in my back pocket to pull out for next time? And I promise you, there will be a next time. With women…there always is.

Keep fighting the good fight.

—Sam

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The Mouth Speaks What the Heart Is Full Of

Day 3 of the Gossip Detox Series
(aka: Just because it came out of your mouth doesn’t mean it started there.)

There’s a verse I’ve wrestled with for years. It’s short. Sharp. And just annoying enough to be true.

“Out of the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks.”
— Luke 6:45

Ouch, right?

Because if that’s true… really true, then the salty, sarcastic, and slightly unkind things I say from time to time? Yeah… they didn’t just come from nowhere. They came from me.

Deep breath.

Now, before we all spiral into guilt and start deleting our group chats, let’s take a second. This isn’t about shame. This is about awareness. It’s a heart check, not a scolding. And I’ll go first.

Spiritual Arrows

So, here’s the thing: sometimes my words are, well… less than righteous. Not always. But occasionally. (Okay, more often than I’d like to admit.)

And every time I say something unkind about someone—even if it’s low-key, even if it’s funny in the moment, and then that person walks by? Instant gut punch. Like I shot an arrow I can’t retrieve. It didn’t physically pierce them—but it nicked something in me. In my heart.

Because even when our words never leave the room, our spirit knows what we did.

Gossip Isn’t a Mouth Problem

Let’s be real for a second. Gossip doesn’t just come flying out of our mouths because we ran out of things to say or we had two glasses of wine and slipped. It comes from deeper stuff: our wounds, our brokenness and our ego.

  • Validation: When we feel small, saying something that makes me look better or “more together” than someone else gives a cheap little ego boost. It feels good—for about 7 seconds.
  • Control: Sometimes gossip is about owning the narrative. If you can plant the idea first, you get to set the tone, steer the room, or protect yourself from being misunderstood.
  • Comparison: Christian women are so good at this one, aren’t we? We’ve learned how to wrap critique in spiritual packaging. (“We all need to pray she just needs to surrender that area to the Lord.”) Really?
  • Entertainment or Status: And then there’s the one that stings the most—repeating something juicy because it makes you feel in the know. Like being validated by your proximity to information. (Even if that info is half-baked and wholly unconfirmed.)

None of these motivations serve anyone. And they create a distance between us and the heart of God.

💃 Dance Moms and Dodging the Fire

There’ve been so many times, especially as a dance mom, where I’ve had to make a choice in the moment:

  • Walk away from a gossip tea party
  • Step in and change the subject
  • Or go find the dads and talk about fantasy football and work

Sometimes I’ve gotten it right. Other times… not so much.

But the older I get, the more I’ve learned: It’s not about controlling the room. It’s about guarding my own heart… and my peace. Because once a fire is lit, you don’t always get to control what it burns.

Reflect

Take five minutes and sit with this:

What have my words revealed lately about what’s going on inside me?
Fear? Envy? Insecurity? Exhaustion?
Or maybe… a heart that’s just been running on empty?

Reset

  • Is there someone I’ve spoken about recently that I need to pray for, or even apologize to?
  • What’s one thing I can say instead of gossip when I feel the urge to speak?
  • Where can I invite God to heal what’s leaking out of my words?

Coming Up: Day 4 – “How to Shut Down Gossip Without Being Awkward or Self-Righteous”
(Yes, it’s possible)

You can read all the posts (or sign up to get them by email) at ScrappySam.com 💛

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Holy Hush: Silence Is a Spiritual Practice

A minimalist beige graphic with the title "Holy Hush: Silence Is a Spiritual Practice" in bold black serif font. Below the title is a simple black line drawing of a teacup with steam rising. At the bottom, it reads, "Day 2 of the Gossip Detox Series" in warm brown text.

 (aka: When in doubt, don’t blurt it out.)

There’s this thing I’m learning–slowly, stubbornly–that silence can actually be holy. Not awkward. Not passive. Not weak. Just… quietly powerful.

And I’ll be honest with you: I haven’t always been great at it.

Ever let an errant thought slip out that you immediately wanted to reel back in like a rogue balloon at a toddler’s birthday party? Yeah. Same.

I’d love to say I’ve never entertained less-than-charitable thoughts about people–but that would be dishonest. Shocker: I’m human. People can irritate me or get on my nerves and sometimes I don’t even know why? (but that’s a whole different blog)

But what I’ve realized over time is this:
-Not every thought needs to be shared.
-Not every person is a safe person to share it with.
-And not clapping back? Sometimes it’s a spiritual discipline–not just a social one.

Let me explain..

🥴 The Drunk Neighbor and the Moment of Clarity

A while back, I was at a party at a close friend’s house. You know, a casual backyard thing–easy vibes, lots of laughter. I felt relatively safe there. I’d shared a lot of my life with this friend. As in, deep-heart felt stuff. The kind of stuff you don’t throw around lightly. 

Thoughts. Dreams. Fears. 

And then one of her neighbors sat down next to me. Let’s just say she was… a little past tipsy. (Okay, she was hammered.)

And right there, in the middle of the party, she started giving me unsolicited relationship advice–based on every personal detail I’d ever told my friend. Not vague stuff. She knew things. Things I’d never said out loud to anyone but my friend.

Cue that sick to your stomach stomach feeling.

In one sad, uncomfortable moment, it all clicked:
-My friend wasn’t a safe space.
-My story had become someone else’s narrative.
-And gossip? Yeah–it doesn’t need a microphone to burn everything down.

🕊️ Jesus Didn’t Always Use Words

One of the most powerful examples of holy silence in the Bible? Jesus before Pilate.

“But Jesus made no reply, not even to a single charge–to the great amazement of the governor.”
 – Matthew 27:14

He was accused. Mocked. Misunderstood.
He had every right to speak up, to defend Himself, to lay it all out.
And He chose silence.

Not because He was weak. But because He focused on  the end game and a higher goal. His silence wasn’t passive–it was intentional.

And if Jesus could stay quiet in the face of false accusations… maybe I can hold my tongue when I’m tempted to vent in the group chat.

 Why We Always Feel the Need to Fill the Space

If you’re anything like me, silence can feel… uncomfortable. Like you’re letting something slide or giving up ground. But most of the time, when we feel like we have to speak, it’s coming from a place of:

  • Wanting to be understood
  • Wanting to be right
  • Wanting to protect our image
  • Feeling awkward
  • Or just needing to fill the space

But the older I get, the more I’m learning this:
Just because you can say something doesn’t mean you should.

🧠 A Simple Challenge for Today: The 3-Second Rule

Before you respond–pause for 3 full seconds.

Ask yourself:

  • Is this true?
  • Is it necessary?
  • Is it kind?
  • Will I regret saying this later?
  • Would I want this shared at a party by a tipsy neighbor?

If you’re unsure? Choose the hush. Let the Holy Spirit say what you almost did.

🙏 A Prayer for Day 2

Lord, teach me the beauty of silence.
Remind me that wisdom doesn’t always need words.
Help me to resist the urge to explain, defend, or control how I’m perceived.
Give me discernment to know when to speak–and grace to stay silent when silence is sacred.
Heal the places in me that feel like I have to say something to prove I matter.
I want to be known for peace, not noise.
Amen.

💡 Reflect & Reset

  • Has silence ever saved you from regret?
  • Who are your safe people–the ones you can actually trust with your story?
  • Have you ever gone public with something that maybe… should’ve stayed sacred?

Coming Up: Day 3 – “The Mouth Mirrors the Heart”
 (It’s not just about words–it’s about what’s simmering under the surface.)

Subscribe to get the rest of the Gossip Detox Series

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When the Tea Turns Toxic

aka: Let’s all take several seats and check our sources, shall we?

We love a little tea, don’t we? Something about being “in the know” feels like power wrapped in connection. And when someone hurts you—or someone you love—the urge to pour yourself a hot cup of righteous indignation and serve it to a few close friends (or your entire group chat) can feel almost… spiritual.

But here’s the thing about tea: if it’s brewed in bitterness, it burns everyone who drinks it. Even the one holding the kettle.

Lately, I’ve found myself standing in the fallout zone of some false narratives. Not your run-of-the-mill misunderstandings, but full-blown fiction with just enough facts sprinkled in to sound convincing. The kind of storytelling that edits out key details, slaps a bow on the pain, and passes it around like a plate of gluten-free cookies—looks wholesome, but leaves you queasy.

And the damage? It’s not theoretical. It’s personal. It hurts people I love. It splits families. It hardens hearts.

They say “hurt people hurt people”—and yes, that’s often true. But here’s what we forget: hurt doesn’t equal honesty. Sometimes pain distorts. And when distorted pain becomes a viral narrative, it can quietly destroy the reputation of someone who did nothing wrong. Or, at the very least, nothing that warranted public stoning via passive-aggressive status updates.

And then social media? Oh, it tosses gas on the whole situation.

We scroll past a photo or read a vague post and suddenly think we’re Nancy Drew with a moral compass. “I saw that one photo. She didn’t even smile. Something’s definitely going on.”

Really?
Do we know the heart? The history? The conversation that happened before or after that post?
Probably not.

And that’s where the Holy Spirit—who thankfully doesn’t need a Wi-Fi signal—whispers:

“That’s not your business.”

🍵 The Problem With “Just Talking About It”

Let’s get into it. The Bible doesn’t leave a lot of gray area on gossip. It’s never labeled as a personality quirk or a coping mechanism. It’s destructive.

“The words of a gossip are like choice morsels; they go down to the inmost parts.”
— Proverbs 18:8

Translation? Gossip sticks. It’s the bad glitter of human behavior—it goes places it shouldn’t and is almost impossible to clean up.

Even when we think we’re just processing…
Even when we slap a “bless her heart” on the end of the sentence to soften the blow…
Even when we start with, “I probably shouldn’t say this, but—” (Girl. If you’re saying that? You definitely shouldn’t say it.)

🙊 Why We Gossip (Even When We Know Better)

Spoiler: it’s not because we’re mean. We gossip because:

  • We want to be included
  • We want to protect someone we care about
  • We want to feel morally superior (ouch)
  • We’re hurt—and we want that pain to feel justified

The tricky part? It’s all very relatable.
The dangerous part? It’s all very flesh-driven.

When we repeat something that doesn’t belong to us—especially if it subtly (or not-so-subtly) tears someone down—we stop being peacemakers and start being spiritual pot-stirrers. And nobody needs more of those.

🕊️ The Better Way

Jesus never said, “By this everyone will know you’re mine—by how eloquently you take people down in the comments section.”

He said we’d be known by our love.

Love holds its tongue.
Love double-checks the facts.
Love refuses to write people off based on curated half-truths and relational cliff notes.
Love might want to vent, but love also wants to obey.

And yes—it’s hard. But so is cleaning up the aftermath of words we can’t take back.

🙏 A Prayer for Day 1

Lord, I want to be a woman who speaks life, not suspicion.
When I’m tempted to repeat something that isn’t mine to share, stop me mid-sentence—preferably before I hit “send.”
When I feel justified in taking verbal aim at someone else’s character, remind me of how You covered mine.
Heal the places in me that need validation more than transformation.
And give me the wisdom to know when silence is not weakness—but worship.
Amen.

💡 Reflect & Reset

  • Have I ever believed or repeated a story that turned out to be distorted—or one-sided?
  • Have I been misrepresented? How did it feel?
  • What might shift in me if I paused before every comment, post, or share and asked: “Does this build, or does this burn?”

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10 Bible Verses for Anxious Moms (That Actually Help)

Personal Note from One Mama to Another

I’m watching my darling daughter-in-law juggle two babies under two, and I’m taken right back. I remember those days of complete surrender—when a quiet time, a shower, and maybe a quick workout (AKA a brisk walk with the stroller) defined self-care and sanity. In those early years, there was a fine line between letting go of anxiety and letting in the moments that took my breath away: tiny arms wrapped around my neck, first words and giggles, the magic of seeing the world through brand-new eyes. Was I terrified a seagull might eat my itty-bitty newborn when we walked on the pier? Yes-but I pushed through the new mommy phase and gained confidence one sippy cup at a time.

But then life got busier—school drop-offs, sports, scraped knees, and building a life that felt both full and complete. And then, the bottom fell out. I became a single mom. And anxiety? It stopped being an occasional visitor and became a constant companion. When you’re carrying the financial weight, the emotional load, and the spiritual burden alone—it’s no longer just stress. It’s survival.

During that season, quiet time wasn’t a sweet addition to my day—it was my oxygen. I couldn’t breathe without God’s presence. I still can’t.

Motherhood will test you in ways you never imagined. It will grow you, stretch you, and sanctify you. These verses below are the ones I’ve clung to in the early years, the single-parent years, and now—as I raise my youngest teen daughter and watch my children become parents themselves.

If you’re reading this while wiping tears or eating leftover macaroni off your toddler’s plate and calling it lunch—these verses are for you, too.

You’re Not Alone: What the Research Says

If you’ve ever wondered, “Is it just me?”—the answer is a compassionate no.

  • The American Psychological Association found that 46% of moms report high levels of stress, especially those with children under 18.
  • A 2023 study in The Journal of Affective Disorders revealed that moms are especially vulnerable to anxiety and depression due to role overload, sleep deprivation, and cultural expectations.
  • And here’s the hope: A 2019 study in Psychology of Religion and Spirituality found that spiritual practices—like prayer, scripture meditation, and trusting in God—are linked to reduced anxiety and greater emotional resilience.
  • Neuroscientist Dr. Andrew Newberg even found that consistent spiritual habits can physically change the brain to help you stay calmer and more emotionally grounded over time.

In other words, your quiet time isn’t just a spiritual discipline—it’s a healing practice.

The Scriptures That Carried Me—And Still Do

Here are 10 verses that helped anchor me in the stormiest seasons of motherhood. I return to them often—and I pray they speak life and peace over you today:

1. Philippians 4:6–7

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God…”
➡️ God invites you to release the worry and come to Him with every messy, real fear.

2. Isaiah 26:3

“You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you.”
➡️ Peace is promised—not perfection—when your eyes stay fixed on Him.

3. 1 Peter 5:7

“Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.”
➡️ God isn’t distant. He’s a loving Father who wants your burdens.

4. Matthew 11:28–30

“Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest…”
➡️ You don’t have to earn rest. It’s your inheritance.

5. Psalm 94:19

“When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought me joy.”
➡️ Even in spiraling moments, His comfort reaches you.

6. John 14:27

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you… Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.”
➡️ Jesus offers a kind of peace the world can’t mimic—steady, deep, and real.

7. Proverbs 3:5–6

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding…”
➡️ You don’t have to figure everything out. Trust unfolds peace.

8. Psalm 121:1–2

“I lift up my eyes to the mountains—where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord…”
➡️ God is your steady help when you feel like falling apart.

9. Lamentations 3:22–23

“Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning…”
➡️ Motherhood may deplete you—but God’s mercy refills you daily.

10. Zephaniah 3:17

“The Lord your God is with you… He will quiet you with his love…”
➡️ God doesn’t just fix problems. He soothes your anxious heart with His presence.

Bonus Resources for Your Journey

If you’re looking for more support, encouragement, or just a good cry-laugh while folding laundry, here are some grace-filled reads:

📚 “Mom Set Free” by Jeannie Cunnion
📚 “Midnight Mom Devotional” by Becky Thompson
📚 “Calm My Anxious Heart” by Linda Dillow
📚 “Rhythms of Renewal” by Rebekah Lyons

A Final Word, Mama

You don’t have to carry all of this alone. Your anxiety doesn’t disqualify you. You’re not a bad mom because you cry in the pantry or lose your marbles in Target. You are human. You are held. And you are wildly, fiercely, faithfully loved by a God who is not overwhelmed by your overwhelm.

He is with you in the endless bottle sterilization, in the pickup line, in the midnight teething wakeups—and right now, in this moment, as you take a deep breath and read these words.

And if no one has told you today: You’re doing better than you think.

-Samantha

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Surviving Air Travel Chaos with Kids

Flying With a Toddler

By Mimi, Frequent Flyer, Occasional Vomit Catcher, and Rookie Grandmother

Last Saturday, I boarded a plane from Texas to California with my 2-year-old grandson Ryder. His mom and dad (my son) had just welcomed a new baby, and in the thick of their big move, they needed a tiny (read: turbo-charged) break from their toddler tornado and I needed some bonding time. So, naturally, Mimi to the rescue.

Let me tell you something right now: if you’ve ever flown with a toddler—or sat within a five-row radius of one—you deserve a medal, a nap, and possibly therapy.

It All Started Out So Well…

I had snacks packed, a sticker book in hand, the milk and the binky at the ready. We breezed through security. I felt invincible, like Mary Poppins with a stroller and a carry-on.

Then our plane was delayed. And this, dear reader, is where things descended into full-blown toddler travel chaos.

The Meltdown (Literally and Figuratively)

About an hour and a half into our wait (thanks to a delay), Ryder’s tummy revolted. He threw up five times. FIVE. TIMES. Right there in the terminal. I was holding my cupped hands under his mouth like I was trying to save his soul in baptismal waters. A stranger tossed me a single napkin like it was going to fix the Titanic. (Bless him.)

We scrambled to the restroom. I cleaned Ryder, myself, and my ego. When I emerged, everyone—everyone—was gone. Turns out they changed our gate, and in my impromptu hazmat cleanup, I missed the announcement.

What followed was a frantic series of elevator rides, a long tram, and a hike that felt like we were crossing the Mojave. We made it to the new gate with 60 more minutes of waiting to look forward to.

Survival Mode at 30,000 Feet

We finally boarded. I broke out the sticker book. Ryder slapped stickers on every surface within reach—including my forehead. I limited water and snacks because his tummy was on strike, and I prayed Despicable Me 4 would hold his attention longer than my bladder could.

At one point, he got fussy. I pulled out the emergency lollypop, a sweet peace offering. Five minutes later, he dropped it into the abyss of the airplane floor, where no grandparent dares to reach.

Arrival: Sweet Mercy

I have never been more grateful to hear the words, “We’ve begun our initial descent.” When we landed, my darling boyfriend—affectionately known as Papa—picked us up. Ryder smiled and shouted “PAPA!” like he hadn’t just used my body as a human mop.

Grace for the Journey (and the Jelly-Stained Onesies)

Here’s what I learned:

  • Control is an illusion. You can have the snacks, the sippy cups, the screen time strategy—all it takes is one tummy to remind you who’s really running the show.
  • Kids aren’t the only ones who melt down. Adults just get quieter and more resentful when they do it.
  • Strangers are kinder than we think. One napkin. One knowing smile. Sometimes that’s all it takes to get you through.
  • Pack an extra shirt. For you. Trust me.
  • Laugh when you can. Cry when you must. And then laugh again later when you retell the story.

A Few Mimi Travel Tips for the Brave:

  1. Don’t underestimate the power of stickers, lollypops, or downloaded movies. Also: backup lollypop.
  2. Triple bag your essentials. Because when everything’s soaked in milk/vomit/yogurt, you’ll thank yourself.
  3. Tell the gate agent you’re traveling with a toddler. They might help you, or at least point to where your gate moved to.
  4. Give yourself the same grace you give your toddler. You’re not failing. You’re parenting/grandparenting in public with a small wild animal.

For the weary traveler—parent or grandparent—here’s your reminder:

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” – 2 Corinthians 12:9

Even when you’re holding your hands out to catch barf, grace shows up—in the sweet older gentleman who sat next to us and smiled gently, a toddler’s giggle, or a well-timed “Where’s PAPA!” at baggage claim.

And when in doubt? Just get on the plane. There’s a story waiting for you on the other side.

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How to Help Your Teen Find Faith in a Culture That’s Losing It

teens and faith

Teen faith is built less on lectures and more on late-night talks, honest questions, and knowing they’re loved no matter what.

I’d love to tell you I’ve got this all figured out. That my home is a walking worship set, my kids wake up quoting Scripture, and every mealtime ends in a revival.

But here’s the truth: I have three kids—two bigs and one teenager. Two love the Lord, attend church, and follow Christ wholeheartedly. One is wrestling—not with Jesus, but with church, with hurt, with the messy side of ministry life that leaves scars. (Translation: I’m not getting a parenting trophy anytime soon, but I do get the “Still Praying and Showing Up” badge, which is honestly more useful.)

When kids grow up under the roof of ministry, the stars don’t always align. They see behind the curtain—the burnout, the brokenness, the inconsistencies. And sometimes, that shakes the foundation they’re still trying to build. As parents, we do our best to lead well, but life interrupts even the best of plans. And sometimes those interruptions involve slammed doors, eye rolls, and theological debates over tacos.

Here’s what I do know: Every morning, I grab my Bible and journal. I spend time with God. My kids see that. They see me go to church—or at least watch it online when there’s a pandemic… or I’ve hit my personal limit of small talk and hard chairs They see me forgive. They also see me mess up—and ask for forgiveness. And that matters. Because faith isn’t a formula. It’s a living, breathing relationship. Parenting isn’t about raising “perfect Christians”—it’s about being faithful guides on the journey.

And that journey isn’t linear. In the story of the prodigal son, there are two children. One stayed. One ran. Both were fully loved. Both had a place in the Father’s arms. That’s the reminder I cling to when I’m tempted to control, fix, or fear—or when I’m Googling “How to make your teenager like church again” at 2 a.m.

Why This Matters: What the Research Shows

We’re not imagining it—our teens are growing up in a radically different world. Faith is not the cultural norm anymore. (Shocking, I know, especially when TikTok seems to have become the new gospel.)

According to Pew Research, 32% of U.S. teens now identify as religiously unaffiliated. That’s more than their own parents (24%).

Less than half of teens say they pray daily, and only 40% believe in God with absolute certainty.

Church attendance among teens is declining—even when parents are deeply involved in faith.

But there’s also good news:

  • 77% of teens say they’re open to learning more about Jesus, even if they’re not involved in church.
  • Many Gen Z teens aren’t rejecting Jesus—they’re questioning religion, institutions, and inconsistencies.
  • Their faith may look different—but the spiritual hunger is still there.

So How Do We Help Our Teens Grow Real Faith in a Culture That’s Losing It?

1. Live It Loud—But Humbly

Let them see your real, lived-out faith. Not just in church pews, but in the car, in the kitchen, in the way you treat people and respond to stress. Teens are radar-sensitive to hypocrisy, but they’re also drawn to authenticity.

“Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old, he will not depart from it.” — Proverbs 22:6

Your rhythms of prayer, Scripture, and grace—those aren’t wasted. Even if it feels like your teen is watching YouTube shorts instead of your life example, trust me: seeds are being planted.

2. Normalize Questions and Doubt

Faith isn’t inherited. It has to be wrestled with. Your teen may ask hard questions or even pull back from church. That’s not rebellion—it’s part of growing a faith that’s theirs, not just a copy of yours.

“Jesus said to Thomas, ‘Put your finger here… Stop doubting and believe.’” — John 20:27

Jesus didn’t scold Thomas for doubting. He invited him closer. We can do the same for our teens—without panicking or turning into a one-woman apologetics conference.

3. Address Church Hurt Honestly

If your teen has been wounded by church or Christians, don’t sweep it under the rug. Acknowledge the pain. Don’t defend broken systems. Model the humility of Christ and remind them that Jesus is not the Church’s failures.

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” — Psalm 34:18

Sometimes the most healing thing you can say is: “I’m so sorry that happened to you. And I get why you’d feel that way.” (Not followed by a five-point sermon.)

4. Give Them Voices Besides Yours

Research shows that teens who stick with their faith often have five or more Christian adults in their lives who invest in them spiritually. Youth pastors, coaches, small group leaders, family friends—they help your child see faith from different angles.

“In the multitude of counselors there is safety.” — Proverbs 11:14

Let’s face it: sometimes your teen will listen to a random podcast host or TikTok creator before they listen to you. It’s fine. Let God use the village.

5. Keep Praying—Especially When It’s Quiet

Even when it feels like nothing is shifting, don’t stop praying. Prayer isn’t just the last resort—it’s the foundation. You may not see immediate fruit, but faith takes root in hidden places.

“The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective.” — James 5:16

Keep showing up in the quiet, in the waiting, in the spaces where it feels like nothing is happening. God is still working—even if your teen rolls their eyes while you pray over their Chick-fil-A.

Your child’s faith journey may not look like you expected. It may come with detours, doubts, and seasons of distance. But remember this: you are not the Savior. Jesus is.

Your job is to reflect His love, to walk in grace, to trust Him deeply—and to never stop hoping.

Whether your teen is the one who stayed close or the one who’s out finding their way, the Father is always watching the road. Arms wide open. Heart full of love. Ready to run.Father is always watching the road. Arms wide open. Heart full of love. Ready to run.

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Mastering Feels: Show Me the Evidence

I was 26 years old, sitting in a young mother’s group called MOPS when I first heard a speaker utter these startling words:

Your feelings are not the truth.

Wait, WHAT?

Fresh out of college and my first pregnancy, where much of my entire existence relied upon feelings, this truth was unsettling.

If I felt like eating a pickle and a block of sharp cheddar cheese, dang it, I did. If I felt like a midnight Del Taco run, we got in the car and soon a burrito with Del Scorcher was entering my mouth. If I felt morose, I watched Independence Day and bawled my brains out as the aliens took over the earth. But more importantly, if I felt like someone was mad at me or distant or snotty, I experienced a weighty sadness in my spirit and avoided them—even if the distance was not real, but simply a narrative I created in my head.

Feelings often ruled my relational decision-making. Stories I told myself. I lived in my head as most introverts do. And while we are intensely reflective, we can also be avoidant.

Obviously, I was disciplined enough to understand that I had to go to work and school and study, even when I didn’t feel like it. I grasped that my duties as a new mom were sacrificial and endless, and the baby couldn’t care less whether I felt like changing his poopy little butt. I worked hard in life and put in the reps on the daily, but when it came to relationships—my feelings still ruled the day. I might hide those feelings, often stuff them or deny them, but eventually, those sneaky little suckers showed their true colors.

Often to my own detriment. I broke out in shingles at the tender old age of 28.

That day at MOPS when I got smacked with the truth was the beginning of a long journey as I began to observe my thoughts and feelings (and try not to judge them) but not necessarily let them steer the ship either.

They became more of a thermometer.

Ooohh…it’s heating up. Time for a mommy time out.

Oh boy, daddy is pissed and the air is flat-out frigid. {Insert boundary}

One of my favorite lines these days to soothe my anxiously attached heart is “show me the evidence.”

For the feelings addict, taking a step back and putting on the Nancy Drew cap can mean the difference between understanding someone’s intentions or living in the land of annoyed and misunderstood.

“You are not your thoughts. You are the observer of your thoughts.” – Eckhart Tolle

Overcoming Feelings and Anxious Thoughts: A Scripture-Based Plan

Feelings can be powerful, often pulling us into a spiral of anxiety or fear. While emotions are real and worth acknowledging, they do not always reflect the truth. As believers, we are called to measure our feelings against the unchanging truth of God’s Word. Here’s a plan to combat anxious thoughts and align our feelings with the truth of Scripture.

And yes, I’m still working it. 26 years later I still wake up every morning and hit my knees– taking my overly empathic, people pleasing heart to the Savior, pleading for his eyes to see the truth and the wisdom to act on it.

1. Observe and Evaluate Your Feelings The first step is to pause and acknowledge your emotions without letting them take over. Ask yourself: What am I feeling, and why am I feeling it? Then, test those feelings against evidence and truth. The Bible reminds us:

“The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?” (Jeremiah 17:9, NIV)

It’s no surprise that our hearts can be deceived and triggered based on past trauma. If you’ve watched The Real Housewives you know this to be true. How much drama could be alleviated if there was more understanding and maybe less tequila?

What we need when the panic hits or the chest tightens is to stop, breathe, maybe cry if you need a moment, but get clarity. When you feel overwhelmed, take a moment to ask, What is the truth?

2. Replace Lies with Truth Feelings often stem from narratives we create, which may not align with reality. Combat these lies by identifying them and replacing them with God’s truth. For instance, if you feel unloved, remind yourself of Romans 8:38-39:

“For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8:38-39, NIV)

Speak these truths over and over and yourself to dismantle the lies that anxious thoughts try to enforce.

My new favorite thing is listening to guided Christian gratitude mediations on YouTube while I’m getting dressed. Love, love love!

3. Ask for Evidence When anxious thoughts arise, pause and ask: Where is the evidence? Are your fears based on facts or assumptions? Philippians 4:8 provides a practical filter for our thoughts:

“Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.” (Philippians 4:8, NIV)

Redirect your mind to focus on what is true and grounded in reality, rather than the “what-ifs” that fuel anxiety.

Man, I can what-if so hard. Sometimes, I just need to look at the facts and get curious.

4. Take Your Thoughts Captive Feelings may come uninvited, but we have the authority to manage them through Christ. Scripture tells us to take every thought captive:

“We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.” (2 Corinthians 10:5, NIV)

When I first started doing this it felt like a game of ping pong. Or windshield wipers tossing snow off the dash. A thought would pop in my head and then I would bat it away.

When anxious or negative thoughts invade, confront them with the Word of God. Remind yourself of God’s promises, such as Isaiah 41:10: “Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”

5. Pray and Seek God’s Peace Prayer is essential when battling overwhelming feelings. Bring your emotions to God, trusting Him to provide clarity and peace. Philippians 4:6-7 always encourages me:

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:6-7, NIV)

Pray specifically about your emotions and ask the Holy Spirit to guide you toward truth and wisdom.

6. Anchor Yourself in God’s Sovereignty Anxious feelings often arise when we feel out of control. Remind yourself that God is sovereign and trustworthy:

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28, NIV)

I often mimic the words of the father of the boy with the evil spirit that Jesus cast out. “I do believe. Help my unbelief.” (Mark 9:24)

7. Build a Support System Don’t walk this journey alone. Share your struggles with trusted friends or mentors who can speak truth into your life. Ecclesiastes 4:9-10 emphasizes the importance of community:

“Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor: If either of them falls down, one can help the other up. But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up.” (Ecclesiastes 4:9-10, NIV)

A supportive community or a good pal can help you stay grounded and remind you of God’s faithfulness when feelings become overwhelming.

Overcoming anxious thoughts and feelings requires intentionality and reliance on God’s truth. By observing your emotions, replacing lies with evidence and Scripture, and trusting in God’s sovereignty, you can find peace even in the midst of challenges. Remember Isaiah 26:3:

“You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you.” (Isaiah 26:3, NIV)

Feelings may ebb and flow, but God’s truth remains constant. Cling to it.

-Sam

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Divine Resilience: God’s Lavish Love When Life Takes Unexpected Turns

Last fall, I prayed a prayer. A rather greedy prayer, but my heart was hungry–a roaring hunger for something deeper than the ordinary. I wanted a glimpse of the divine. Some reassurance HE hears me.

I needed a whisper, a Holy Spirit high five, a manna flyover. The rhema word. Just something. Can I get a Jesus with skin on, please?

On my bed, snuggled in tight, early in the darkness of the morning, coffee cup by my side, with tears rolling down my face, I pleaded, “God, will you show me a sign of lavish love?”

I wrote the words in my journal and closed up my little bookstore in peace. I say bookstore, because I generally have about 5-10 books and devotionals in my morning nest, with blankets and pillows and sometimes my dog cuddled at my feet. It’s the best part of my day. The stillness, The sacred. The words that pour out of my heart. The promises I say over and over to remind myself of the truth. And the beauty of a God that is so close.

I knew He would answer. I didn’t know how. But I knew enough to wait, to watch and to be curious.

On some level, I thought he might show me a sign of romantic love. But a few days later I knew it was finally time to end an on-again off-again relationship. Maybe the lavish love was the solace of being alone?

All I knew was it felt bad…but then strangely good. I felt relief.

Over and over, as I mature as a believer, I find what appears to be abysmal circumstances are actually GIFTS from God. I just have to unwrap them and do the work.

My lavish love wasn’t going to be tied up in pretty wrapping. It might look like a capsizing ship or a fiery trial.

They say be careful what you pray for…

It started with one of THOSE weeks. The kind that Murphy invented. When everything that can go wrong, does. So DARN WRONG.

I got a serious health scare. Abnormal lab results. The waiting.

There were prayers and anxiety and tears until I surrendered like a child.

Finally, the appointment.

And while the news wasn’t great, it was fixable.

And I felt loved. Lavishly.

That evening my engine blew up on the freeway as I was on my way to pick up my daughter from dance. My power steering went out and my brakes. It’s always an adventure traveling on the 5 freeway at 75mph and losing the ability to steer or stop.

I dragged the wheel as hard as I could and tried to pull over, but the car just kept going and then rolled down an off-ramp. It finally slowed and came to a stop at the corner of a major intersection one hot second before I careened into oncoming traffic. I was blocking a lane, but I was alive. It was dark and I was in a construction zone. But I was alive.

Did I say I was alive?

I’m just a little grateful here. Beholden. Delighted. Filled with gratitude.

A man pulled his car up next to me and rolled down his window. He waved at me to come over. My Spidey senses were on high alert. I approached with trepidation, ready to use kickboxing or hair pulling if necessary. (I’ve seen the trailer for Taken, so I know the signs!).

But this guy was more angel than villain. He hopped out of his car and jumped into action. Turns out my hero was a mechanic in overalls. He grabbed some tools and tried to charge the battery, but my car was not responding to the CPR. Super Dude thought it was the fuel pump and encouraged me to call AAA.

Which I did. After I stopped hyperventilating and reeled in the dying cat noises.

He also told me the safest place to stand as cars flew by. It was dark, cold and truly terrifying. But this man made it feel strangely safe. Peace in the midst of total chaos. I thanked him profusely and he laughed and said he would have stayed with me, but he had to get home because his wife had dinner waiting.

It felt like a little heaven in that moment. A God rescue.

The tow truck took 2 hours to arrive, and I just stood there directing cars who got stuck behind mine. My best friend pulled up an hour later and we waited in her car until the tow guy arrived. A nice and warm toasty car with giggles and her bestie love.

And I felt loved. Lavishly.

The next morning, I woke up with a scratchy throat and a headache. Then the auto shop called. The car was totaled. My only option was to rebuild the engine or donate it to Cars for Kids.

Ouch.

The scratchy throat turned into the flu. Seriously?

A few days later my dad and I went to look at cars. We found a little SUV I wanted with low mileage and a solid price and as I started to give the guy my credit info while coughing up a lung and watching my savings disappear, my stepdad whipped out his check book and said, “don’t bother with that. I got it.”

I’m sorry…what? (Insert happy dance, more coughing and tears)

And I felt loved. Outrageously. Lavishly.

God knew I needed the kind of love and support that only dear friends, random mechanics and a loving dad can bring after you’ve had a relentless shit storm.

I needed Philia: friendship and affectionate love that does not involve any passion or sexual impulse.

I needed Storge: love for family.

I needed Pragma: enduring love by my heavenly Father.

And most of all… Agape: perfect/unconditional love that only the God of the universe provides.

The child, in danger of the fire, just clings to the fireman, and trusts to him alone. She raises no question about the strength of his limbs to carry her, or the zeal of his heart to rescue her; but she clings. The heat is terrible, the smoke is blinding, but she clings; and her deliverer quickly bears her to safety. In the same childlike confidence cling to Jesus, who can and will bear you out of danger from the flames of sin.

Charles Spurgeon

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A Not So Welcome Home

The church can be a hard place to walk into under any circumstance.

It’s vulnerable, we feel judged, and there is something about coming face to face with Jesus that undoes people.

But walking into church takes on a whole new meaning after you divorce a pastor.

It doesn’t mean I haven’t attended for the last few years, I simply went to a different place to worship. That is, until recently, when my best friend begged me to join her Bible Study at my old church. She and her husband were leading a group this fall and she invited my boyfriend and me to join them.

My first thought was “hell no.” I’m not walking in there. I didn’t want to deal with the pain or the memories I’ve been working so hard to process through and let go. Even though the relationship I’m in now had nothing to do with my old life, assumptions and gossip have a life of their own.

But my friend and her husband are nothing if not persistent. I spent some time chewing on it and decided that at this point in my life, does it matter? What’s important here? And I was convicted to be brave. Even though I’ve done this particular study nine times, usually as the group leader, I knew my boyfriend would love it and I deeply missed community from church post-Covid.

So we showed up. The first night I got many strange looks, some big hugs, and some eyes averted. I was terrified and fragile; the shaking in my boots kind of nervous. It certainly didn’t feel like a safe place when you are on trial for a crime that from your perspective is self-defense.

One person told me that I was welcome despite my sin. Ouch! Doesn’t that go for all of us? And since when is blanket judgment without understanding both sides of the story not a sin too?

My group, in all honesty, has been lovely. They are the most beautiful people and I’m so glad we’ve experienced life with them. I’ve prayed and served side by side with them. I’ve shared my heart and heard their stories. We’ve encouraged, mourned with, and edified one other. And this is why I came, even though it was intimidating. When we drop the pious act, the Christian community is one of the most accepting and loving places you can find. My spirit craves this.

But showing up on a Sunday was a different kind of scary than a mid-week study. Some people only knew I left my husband. And in the church, women are crucified when they leave. It doesn’t seem to matter what the reason is and that blows my mind.

I walked in last Sunday with my boyfriend and his daughter. My own little girl was at her dad’s that weekend. We sat down and then it started. A woman three rows up, who use to be a friend, started in on the nasty looks. Not once has she ever asked me what happened. One side of the story is never a clear picture of reality. And what happens at home is not always the image people portray-especially in ministry.

When we got in the car I asked my boyfriend’s daughter what she thought of this church versus the one we usually attend. She mentioned the woman throwing her nasty looks and how off putting it was.

That made me sad. I love this place. I helped start this church. My kids and I sacrificed so much on this journey and when I look around and see all the people praising God I am overwhelmed with emotion. Yes, there is both ugliness and beauty in people but when the ugly comes out straight from the get-go, you never get to the good part.

Someday we are all going to stand before God. I will stand in judgment for my sin and so will you. But the stone-throwing when someone is simply trying to spend time with the Lord grieves me. And it should grieve you too. The church needs to be the one place in the world you can come just as you are.

broken. wounded. a sinner. a saint…and everything in between.

None of us are perfect. Not even close. So why do we judge when we see only a slice of a story?

I love the church and I believe it’s the hope of the world. But it’s certainly more a hospital of broken people than a sanctuary for the holy.

So please, do me a favor, the next time you are in church and you see someone who is new, or back from a prodigal journey, or smelly or dirty or whatever…

Just smile at them.

I know Jesus will be running towards them with open arms and preparing a feast. So let’s try not to be the party pooper.

-Sam

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