Tindell Baldwin »

Since I embarked on this great journey of motherhood I have sought to be understood. Sought to have someone tell me I’m doing a good job, not just a good job, but a worthy job. I want someone to tell me that the countless hours I spend singing (not on a stage but in a quiet nursery with a babe pressed against me), cleaning, and well… mothering has immense value in this world.

Because let’s be honest… whether you stay at home like me or work a 9-5 the term mother has been made less than what it is. So maybe it’s just me or you too, but I’ve spent the year and a half since that beautiful moment in the delivery room trying to prove to the world that the life I lead is worthy of recognition. Sure there’s a day devoted to us (but dogs also get one), sure my husband comes home and asks me how I managed it all, and I’ve heard a few “I could never do that.” What I have wanted though is for my job, my role, as a mom, to be a valuable one. To be one that is revered right up there with CEO’s, Managers, and big wig company chairs. When I tell people I am a “stay at home mom” I want them to ooh and ahh in wonder as if I have just told them I wrangle tigers. (it’s almost the same) They don’t though, in fact, a few times men have asked me, “what else do you do.” (I complied a detail minute by minute schedule and sent it to them via email with a bible verse…jk)

But why does it matter?

Because I need it? Because its true? Because it makes what I do more important?

I think the reason we drown ourselves in diapers and loose ourselves in all exciting parenting novels and do poop cheers when they poop and it’s been three days. I think what makes every late night lullaby and sleep deprived 3 cup of coffee type of morning worth it will never come in the form of praise from others. It wouldn’t matter if the government started paying me for my 14+ hour days or if men stood in awe when I described in detail the glorious wonder that is my day. It wouldn’t matter if I got to wear clothes that weren’t covered in goldfish residue or enjoy a cup of coffee without having to watch curious George.

Because what I really know is this… Sacrifice doesn’t always mean suffering and while the human in me craves a shred of significance in this tattered world the Jesus inside of me praises God I have the opportunity to raise little hands and feet to sing his praises. The Jesus in me knows that in ten minutes little whimpers followed by the sweetest sound of “ma-ma” will interrupt my world again and I will have to surrender what I am doing to answer the cry of one of the greatest gifts I’ve ever received. The Jesus in me knows that I have experienced more of his love in the past 17 months that I ever knew existed, the love that compels me to keep moving, keep loving, keep smiling, and keep enjoying even when the world looks on and wonders “what I really do all day.”


I will do what my mother did and her mother before that and raise little lives. Little lives that will affect many people. Little lives that will turn into big ones, where they will face this big bad world head on and I will spend hours on my knees praying I taught them well. I will take joy in their triumphs and cry in their pain and for as long as they let me I will be an ear to listen and a voice of wisdom (or so I pray). Because if two year olds didn’t turn into adults then my job would be pointless but this is just the start and I only have 18 years before I send them off so there is lots of work to do.

Happy Mothers Day to all, no matter what that looks like, traditional or in a way you never expected, I pray God shows you the immense value of your calling.


  • susan peterson - Happiest of Mother’s Days to you sweet Tindell!ReplyCancel

  • Malin - Dear sister in Christ. Greetings from Sweden. I am too a stay at home mother 😀 I praise God that you are hearing the Lords calling to do this 🙂 Not many mothers in Sweden stay home more than 6-12 months, but the one that do, it’s a treasure! I hope you have a lot of sisters in your everyday work, that too is at home as you. Gods blessing to you/MalinReplyCancel

Last night my husband and I sat on the back porch in our rocking chairs like something you’d see on leave it to beaver and talked. My brother and sister in law affectionately call this “porching it” and swear it’s the key to a good marriage. So we sat outside, rocked while we looked at our backyard and talked about what most people in their late twenties talk about with a toddler and one more on the way, money. What would be just the right amount? When will we get to the pinnacle illusion amount of “security”, that place where you skip off to work feeling confident that if you lost your job, total your car, or some other tragedy strikes you can feel at peace because there’s “enough” in the bank. The fantasy world where future college tuitions, weddings, proms, and house repairs are no longer the sweat on your brow but a welcomed new adventure because you are “secure”.

I grew up wanting. Not in the sense of basic needs but in the sense that I always wanted more. I wanted a bigger house, I dreamed of my own bathroom that was not filled with three boys and questionable hair findings. I dreamed of Birkenstocks and an off white north face jacket that would keep me warm in Atlanta’s extreme temperatures (sarcasm intended). I dreamed of having things that would give me happiness I thought waited on the other side.

However, there were four kids and my dad was starting his own company and my mom had decided the best place she could be was at home with us so going to the movies as a family was a stretch. In all my “wanting” though my childhood was one of the happiest I can imagine because while our memories weren’t made at 5 star resorts or fancy country clubs we had plenty of good memories. The atmosphere in our home was one of life and joy and dare I be cheesy and say Jesus. Our house was full of life, it was packed to the brim with it, teenage boys running in and out of the house to the latest experiment that would most likely land us in the ER. Our memories were made of rolling a tire down the hill, making bike ramps, and a large front yard swing that would later be called the “so sorry your kid broke his arm at our house” swing. And laughing. We laughed a lot and at night when we were all in our teens we’d pile into our parents room as we came home and catch up. (of course I didn’t realize how great any of this was back then)


No I didn’t have my own bathroom (can you tell this was a big point of angst for me) and I worked through high school to pay for the extras that I so desperately needed… like skirts that should have been banned in all 50 states. What I learned though was that money didn’t create atmosphere, it wasn’t necessary to create memories, and we didn’t need to have the best vacations in our borrowed 2 bedroom condo in Hilton head. We had joy because we were thankful, we had love, we knew where life came from, and we had each other.

I say all this because now as a grown up (well almost) the trap is to believe that the destination of security will somehow create this mecca of joy. Yet why is it that the richest people in America seem to be the unhappiest? Why is it that the biggest smiles I’ve ever seen were on the faces of some of the poorest in Africa? And why is it that you probably haven’t heard a lot of people say “we have just the right amount of money?”

Because God beckons us to joy not through things, trips, and big numbers but through a redeemed life. He beckons us to joy in trusting in the midst of plenty and little. He beckons us to real joy when we choose to look at a messy house as a house full of life, as shared bathrooms as one more opportunity to be close knit, and as “wanting” to be something that teaches us how to be gracious no matter the circumstance. I never went without growing up, I know that now, but I looked around me and everyone seemed to have fancier things and something inside me craved it. Whenever I’d get one thing though the stakes got higher, the things got more expensive, and the let downs greater. The joy I was searching for couldn’t be purchased.

This morning on Good Morning America they talked about an article that said that we shouldn’t let our kids want for things because it creates “bad self-esteem” and I had to laugh because I am thankful every day I didn’t get just want I wanted (pretty sure my husband is too). I even manage to have a fine self-esteem. Who would have thought!

Colossians 2:7

Let your roots grow down into him, and let your lives be built on him. Then your faith will grow strong in the truth you were taught, and you will overflow with thankfulness.

  • Carrie Reynolda - Man I miss that swing, what an awesome blog Tindell!! I struggled/struggle with this, and you nailed it. Love you!!ReplyCancel

  • Susan P - Tindell, you nailed it here. Wondering why I still am learning this lesson. Thank you Lord for your patience with me and for teaching me daily what it means to be content.

    Love you!ReplyCancel

  • Teresa Staley - What a beautiful Tindellism! You have experienced the joy of learning that less is more. Thank you for bringing joy to me during a sleepless night .ReplyCancel

  • Brooke Ventimiglia - Love this, Tindell! Thanks so much for your blog posts. They brighten my day and put me on track to joy in Jesus!ReplyCancel


If you’re like me and grew up in a Christian home then this weekend comes with a certain sentiment. Easter baskets filled with candy and potentially a very large bunny stuffed animal, you’ve sang “he is risen’ on Sunday with your big pink bow, and took family portraits that always ended up with someone crying from the sugar crash that was occurring. We knew it was important, we knew it mattered, and we knew we were supposed to look our best and try not to get chocolate on our white dress (why they combined a holiday of chocolate eating with the tradition of wearing white is beyond me). It was sweet, it was a family weekend, but it never shook my world.

Its Good Friday today and as I read the verse I’ve read 100 times I pray it hits me in a new way. I pray I don’t roll by this weekend with a sense of familiarity like I have 100x before. I pray I don’t get caught up in the baking, egg hunting, and family pictures, only to forget that the death sentence that had been placed on my life was lifted. The debt I could never erase by my own striving was wiped clean.

“He was pierced for our rebellion, crushed for our sins, he was beaten so we could be made whole” (Isiah 53:5)

And yet I forget to remember. I forget to be awed because I’ve heard it before. I’ve been breathless and weepy and asked, how could you do this for me? But somehow the farther I get removed from that moment the farther I get from remembering how much I need today. It will never stop being true, I will never need less of Jesus than he gave on the cross. So why should I be moved any less? I don’t become less of a sinner any more than I become less of a human.

So let’s live in our need, live in our dependence for today and that cross and the sinless man that died on our behalf. I pray the story never becomes old or boring. I pray our memories of Good Friday won’t be like a child’s book but like a living breathing man being beaten, wounded, and killed on our behalf. We search for ways to dumb it down for our kids so they can take part in the story but what I want to tell my daughter is the utter suffering that happened on that cross represents a love like no other. I want her to get the pain because our story isn’t nearly as meaningful unless cost was really that high. Let’s not forget the gravity of today, the pain of today, and the love laced in it all. Let’s not breeze by the weekend and forget that under the candy, bunnies, and dresses is the greatest love story we will ever know.

I used to think I wanted life to be easy. I pictured my perfectly behaved kids in my pottery barn house with no problems and eating brownies a la mode in bed over a good movie (ok I did that last night). I remember thinking to myself oh wont that be magical.

Sometimes I look back at our life before kids, before chaos, before schedules and sound machines, and I think man that was easy. Or I think about college, where I never scheduled an 8AM class cause that would require a bedtime before 3AM and I liked to stay up watching friends and hanging out with my roommates (I was a real over achiever back then). I think back on those times and I say man that was so easy. Yet, I was so ready to graduate and get married and get out of college, my best friend and I have joked that if we could go back to the college version of ourselves we’d scream “slow down… you have the rest of your life to be a grown up”. Somehow though I thought marriage and babies would be like Johnson and Johnson commercials… it isn’t, it’s more like The Walking Dead. I joke… some days it really is magical and some Saturdays I smile and look at my life and wonder how on earth I got so lucky. The lie is this though in every season… the next stage will be easier.

In high school I thought it was college. In college it was college for a brief moment then it felt like marriage. In marriage I thought it was babies. In babies I think to myself that it will happen at graduation… of my last child. Life never starts being easy, we get moments of reprieve, lots of joy (if we choose it), but I don’t think this life was meant to be easy. I think it was meant to make us different, shape us more into our maker, teach us how to serve, learn to love the ordinary, and love in the greatest trails. I think God isn’t so much concerned with our ease but with our endurance and for some reason character comes in the hard times, in the tough choices, in the everyday battles. Character is built one lesson at a time.

My husband and I have been in a tough season, his work is extremely busy right now, I am pregnant and hormonal (enough said), our toddler has become…well… a toddler, and life has just been a little upside down. I am working hard to serve my family in the ways only I can which means I run my house well, put dinner on the table, and make our house the least stressful environment for my husband to walk into.  That might not sound like the picture I had in my early twenties and some days it’s not easy but its teaching me to run the race God has set before me, and to run it well, when its not glamorous and there’s no round of applause at the end. Because isn’t that the real test of our heart, how we handle life when no ones is watching or praising us.  It’s teaching me that easy isn’t what’s important. This won’t always be our life, I know a day will come when I would kill to have hungry mouths to feed and a little more chaos. For now though it is… and I can choose to rise to the occasion (generally I play eye of the tiger every day around 5pm for that extra burst of endurance (auburn fans will get it)) or I can complain. I choose to be thankful because I know I wont walk out of this season the same way I walked in.

The Christian life is a constant changing of seasons, the ebb and flow of dreams and desires, and the reality that our greatest joys in life typically come when we are serving others.  I have let go of easy because I know that’s not the goal and what a boring life it would be. Joy comes in all different ways, in all different forms, and I can’t help but wonder what would have happened if Jesus had said, “sorry God the cross is too hard… I want easy.”

Hebrews 12:1-3

And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us. 2 We do this by keeping our eyes on Jesus, the champion who initiates and perfects our faith.[a] Because of the joy[b] awaiting him, he endured the cross, disregarding its shame. Now he is seated in the place of honor beside God’s throne. 3 Think of all the hostility he endured from sinful people;[c] then you won’t become weary and give up.

  • Ashley - this is a great post. I met you at Church on the Move’s United Night service. You probably don’t remember me but I’m the lady with the 7 month old little girl. I was telling my husband about your testimony and we are pretty sure he was at the same passion concert you were at that you talk about in your concert. I have only read your last post but I just wanted to say as a working wife and mother this hit home big time. Thank you for sharing your story and heart. This post encouraged me to keep doing the little everyday things even though there may be no “thank you” for it. I want to honor God and my family in everything that I do. I look forward to ready more of your posts.ReplyCancel

  • Ashley - I wanted to check out your blog after meeting you tonight at the United Night at Church on the Move. You may not remember me, I was the lady that has the 7 month old little girl. I was telling my husband about your testimony when I got home and we are pretty sure he was at the same Passion Conference that you talk about in your story. I just wanted to say thank you. As a working wife and mother I needed to read this. I look forward to ready more of your posts.ReplyCancel

  • Tindell Baldwin - Thank you Ashley! It was so great to meet you and I do remember 🙂 Loved being at Church on the Move it was a great night!ReplyCancel

We have a toddler on the cusp of talking… or so I tell myself… mostly she points at stuff she wants and says “peazzz” which I’m pretending translates to please. Or she stands next to me, mostly when I’m cooking,and says “up” no matter what she is asking the urgency is clear because if I don’t respond, ask her to wait, or say no we are in the throes of a meltdown. It’s a really fun age (sarcasm intended).  What I repeat over and over though on any given day is, “claire be patient.” Whether I’m cooking her dinner because oh yea its 6 and she does require three meals a day or she needs water or wants to swing on the swing I am constantly saying “be patient”. Now before you call CPS I love my child and we honestly have great days but as any mom can attest you can’t do a million things at once so patience is key but since she’s the first born and most people jump when she says so 😉 she hasn’t quite grasped this.

But have I? Some days I throw up my hands and wonder why she can’t understand I’m going to take care of her. Dinner will be ready (I mean it doesn’t take long to heat up a hot dog…I kid she eats better than that… most days), she will most likely get to play outside, and I will take care of whatever other needs she has. I won’t give in to her every wants because I’m her mom and I love her more than that but she will always be clothed, fed, and loved.

I won’t lie becoming a parent has revealed a lot more about myself than I’d care to admit on paper and as I impatiently tell my child to be patient I wonder if I’m being asked the same thing. Be patient in trials, hardship, struggling, questioning, and sometimes just downright pain because the God who loves me will always take care of me. I’ve never been great at the patient thing… in fact someone I worked with when I was publishing said “there’s no dreaming with Tindell there is only doing”. My motto tends to be why wait when you can do it now…. Like right now. However sometimes we are simply called to wait, wait in the unknown and trust that we will be taken care of.

I got to talk to a young girl who recently became a believer… she’s in a hard time. Walking away from a life into the plans God has for you isn’t always easy, in fact its hard and it takes well… patience. I told her it was going to suck (yes I said suck in church) because it did for me but I said what God has for her is worth waiting on and he shows up in our waiting. He shows up in our patience and provides just what we need when we need it. Sometimes we are waiting on friends, a spouse, a job, or just life to get better and the best thing I have learned to do it trust that in the waiting we have his company and its always worth it.

2 Corinthians 4:8-9

8 We are pressed on every side by troubles, but we are not crushed. We are perplexed, but not driven to despair. We are hunted down, but never abandoned by God. We get knocked down, but we are not destroyed.

  • Pam Wilson - This was for me today. Thanks.ReplyCancel

  • Susan P - patience is a tough one. But oh so needed in this world. I love that you can see God’s truths in your every day life Tindell! I heart you.ReplyCancel

  • Tara - Tindell, thank you so much for writing with such authenticity and honesty. “My motto tends to be why wait when you can do it now…. Like right now. However sometimes we are simply called to wait, wait in the unknown and trust that we will be taken care of.” <~ That is so me. And today I needed the reminder to wait and trust He'll take care of me. Thank you again!ReplyCancel

I’m what my husband affectionately or maybe not so much depending on the day, calls a “sharer”. Not in “you can have half of my pizza” kind of way but in the sense that if I find a book I love, a recipe that I thought was just amazing and yet easy, or even a shampoo that made my hair extra soft at a reasonable price you’re going to know about it. I almost feel bad for my close girlfriends, because while my husband loves me, he’s had to remind me that it’s frowned upon in important business meetings when your phone keeps buzzing with a second by second synopsis of your spouse’s day. This leaves my friends to hear about the amazing adventures of my crazy stay at home mom life that sounds something like “oh my gosh did you know cheerios are buy one get one free at Kroger and 2T pjs are on sale for 2$ at target (insert pic of pjs here)”. It’s a wild ride.

In all seriousness though this quality has served me well in SOME areas of my life, if I believe in something it makes me come alive even if to others it might seem mundane I can get as passionate about a great sale as I can about a sermon that changed the way I looked at life. As my husband will tell you there’s no distinguishing between passions, it’s just a oh my gosh kind of all caps experience. However heaven help the people left in the wake of an argument with me about something that I really believe in. It can be bad. I’m talking apology flowers to follow the outpouring of words that should not have come out of my mouth.

Luckily I’ve grown… because I’ve been married for almost five years, said words to family members I wish I could take back, spent a solid year in Christian counseling, and have a toddler that is currently a sponge and soaking up everything I say. I have adapted quite a bit and come to realize that while I have opinions that I hold so close to my heart about life, especially my faith and Jesus, what I also hold close to my heart is people. I believed God when he told me to love others so that means I must hold back and fight through the urge to speak even though as I told ben the other night “keeping in my opinions to myself makes me want to vomit” (did I mention I am also a tad over dramatic).

We live in a world of opinions but a world very devoid of unconditional love and what others need to see in me is not another set of opinions but a God who looks at them and says “Come to me I love you just as you are”.  I have learned that what I value over my opinions is my relationships and while my opinions can shut down others in a moment my love for them opens up doors to have discussions we might have never had before. Love does cover a multitude of sins, you know why? Because it looks at another person and says, it’s not about what you believe, what you’ve done, or where you stand on political issues, it’s about a God who sent his son to die for YOU and ME.

  • Pam Wilson - I can relate to the part about having opinions. The Lord showed me especially in relationship to my daughter who is away from The Lord to love her unconditionally. All the talking and trying to set her straight wasn’t doing anything but put up barriers. It’s been amazing to see the change when I have let go of my need to say it all!

    Thanks for being a “sharer”! I’ve been blessed reading your blog! – PamReplyCancel

  • Dianne - Another great post. Keep writing!ReplyCancel

  • Jeff - This is my wife. When a “sharer” tries to talk to a man wanting to be in his man cave, hurt feelings reign supreme.ReplyCancel

“Because your love is better than (my) life, my lips will glorify you” Ps 63:3

There in those words lie the truth I have been trying to wrap my brain around, because your love is better than (my) life, because it’s better than what I can make of myself, it’s better than the greatest love I’ll know on earth, it’s better than Christmas morning and 1,000 coffee dates with best friends, it’s better than knowing what tomorrow holds, it’s better than my comfortable life, better than my husband’s warm embrace, it’s better than a sweet hug from my baby girl. Its better? Would I really say that, even if some of it was born out of your love for me would I say it’s better?

Does our life scream the praise that your love is better? Or does our life scream the praise of a well-constructed reality?

Will my lips truly praise you in the storm, glorify you on the hard days, or sometimes harder; lift you up when everything else is going just right.

Do I have a message in me that truly believes than your love is better that what I can attain, the relationships I will have, or the family I will raise? This is easier when you are hurting or desperate or have come to the end of your rope. This truth feels real and right in front of you but when given the choice… will I lay my life at the alter of your love truly believing that what lies in that is better than anything? Believing that while it might not taking losing the things I most love in this world I would be willing for you because you are what I hold most dear?

Its fine when it was things that didn’t fully satisfy but what about the things that really make my heart leap. What about the passions I love and the dreams I hold so dear? Would I let it all go and run wild embracing that your love is better. Embracing that my dreams might be fully from you and my passions might be ignited with a greater flame fueled by your love for me but what if its years? What if the waiting isn’t what I was thinking, what if the years are longer than expected, what if my days look mundane to others and the only thing that keeps my heart beating is the consistency that your love is the same today in either my greatest joy or my darkest hours.

Whether it’s the days I doubt or the days I praise you with every breath that’s in me. Will I still believe that your love is greater than my own life? Will I still leverage your love for others over my greatest wants, needs, fears, and passions? Will it be enough? If the child never comes home, if the choices harder, the sacrifices bigger, if the loved one never returns, or if relationships are severed. Will I still believe your love is better than my own life? Will I really embrace that your love, your purpose, your design is greater than anything I could possibly build on my own? Will I glorify you with all that’s in me because I know there is nothing better to be worshipped?

  • Jenn Sorrell - Hi Tindell. I read your book and am so inspired by you. I believe you are blessing young people in a way that most cannot. Would you be interested in coming to South Forsyth FCA to speak? We could really use a light like you in this time in young people’s lives.
    Please contact me if you are available. Sorr9393@comcast.netReplyCancel

The streets were muddy; a stream of water rushed to my left and trash heaps littered every corner. Children played in the water that I didn’t even let get near my shoes and sorted through the piles of trash. I stared in awe, my childhood rushing back to me like waves of warm water. Memories of forts, tree houses, trampolines, lunch box notes, vacations, Christmas’s full of Santa clause, and then I look around again. I bet these kids didn’t even have lunch boxes, much less notes from doting mothers to perk up their hard days. Guilt and angst and a million other emotions were filling my heart to the brim, how can I be on the same planet as I was on yesterday? Nuzzled in my American dream how could I have complained about my car, my clothes, and Lord knows how many other useless things when this was going on a few plane rides away.

I looked at my fellow trip mates and I knew they felt it too, the power of the African slum, it could drain the believing right out of you while simultaneously showing you more about God than you ever knew.

The guide was talking while we walked explaining life in this place, a life of murder, stealing, and the likelihood that you would never leave this place. These kids, covered in dirty water and sifting through trash would probably never see anywhere better this side of earth and I muttered “God save them” with nothing more in my head than a heaven filled with children who once made their playground amongst the trash.

Our guide tells us that in the slums there is no word for future, he said life was lived on such an everyday basis they needed no word for future because they saw none. Something inside of me ached, a life without hope.

So here I sit 6 years later and this memory comes flooding back because of something my pastor said on Sunday, “We are living in a generation of hopelessness” and it clicked, we have taken the future out of it, we have created life that is lived on an everyday basis and when the future gets forgotten the hope gets lost.

See you and I we were made to ache for more, to burn with a passion for something further down the road and culture is squeezing that out of you. You are being told, and I am being told, that tomorrow doesn’t matter just live for today. So we live for today, we spend for today, we party for today, and we believe the lie that this is all that we have, and we ache.

This is not how you were created.

Job 8:7

Your beginnings will seem humble,
so prosperous will your future be.

Ecclesiastes 3:11

“He has made everything beautiful in its time. Also, he has put enternity into man’s heart, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end.”

I tried to find a part of the bible where God said to live in the moment, don’t worry what consequences face you, but God and Katy Perry think very differently about how your life should look.

Because we were made with a future in mind, if Satan can take the future out of your life he can convince you that digging through a pile of trash is the best you can do. That’s what we are all doing apart from God, standing in a pile of trash looking for the treasure, but its all trash to start with.

The guy… he left. The party…. It ended. The high… it faded. The best friend you’d do anything for… found someone she liked better. The sport that gave you so much affirmation…. Its over.

But we keep grabbing, looking for treasure among the trash of this world in hopes that it might fill the desperate void that is screaming at you. As someone who has found her fair share of “treasure” among the trash let me assure you it won’t satisfy, it won’t give you a future, and it can’t save your life.

The thing about Africa that I realized in my short time there was that Africa knew it needed Jesus, they knew they were living in rubble, they knew that all they had meant nothing but you and I we have a hard time seeing that. We have prettier things, nicer trash, if you will, and we can fill the void with enough of today to forget about eternity. But in my gut, when I put the phone down, when I shut social media off, sometimes I feel the hopelessness. I can see it when I walk through the grocery store, go shopping at H&M or I read the news. I can see that we are trying to fill each day with enough so that we don’t have to think about tomorrow.

So where do the hopeless go when our future has been taken and our lives look dark? Well the way I see it (since you asked) is we have two choices. We can fumble around this world making the best of today and forgetting about tomorrow or we can run to God and believe he has paved a way for our futures to look vastly different.

I often think where I would be if God hadn’t reached into my pit of a life at 19 and put me on solid ground and I know because there isn’t too many places I could have ended up. I would still be drinking, I would still be dabbling in drugs, I would still be trying to make much of myself to fill the void, I would have been in a string of relationships that left my already battered heart in even worse shape and I would be hopeless because who can give you a future outside of God?

S u b s c r i b e
S e a r c h