Love in Faith

When I was a child, going to church with my grandparents just felt… normal. Sunday mornings had a rhythm—songs, prayers, stories—and it was all part of life. I didn’t have to think about God; I just felt Him there, in the people around me, in the music, in the quiet moments of reflection. It was familiar. It was home.

Now, as an adult, I find myself wanting to bring that same normalcy back—not just for me, but for my children. Life is busy. Days are full. And yet, there’s this pull in my heart to know God more deeply, to see Him in every corner of my life, and to invite my kids to know Him too—not as a concept or a Sunday obligation, but as a living, breathing presence we can experience every day.

The truth? This journey isn’t easy. Some days, remembering to pray feels like climbing a mountain. Some days, life’s distractions are louder than God’s whisper. But even in those moments, I remind myself of what Scripture says: “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to Him, and He will make your paths straight.” (Proverbs 3:5-6) It reminds me that I don’t have to have it all figured out—God is guiding me even when I can’t see the full path.

There are moments, though, that make it all feel worth it. Every time I walk into church, sit down, and hear the sermon, something shifts inside me. There’s a power I can’t explain. A joy that rises from deep within. It’s more than comfort—it’s the Holy Spirit washing over me, reminding me that I am not alone, that God’s love is real, present, and alive. In those moments, I feel His arms around me, guiding me, holding me, loving me even when I falter. As Psalm 23 reminds us, “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul.”

And I want my children to see that too. Not just in what I say, but in how I live. In the way I turn to God when life gets hard, in the way I celebrate His blessings, and in the way I make faith part of our ordinary, everyday life. Because loving God isn’t about grand gestures or having it all figured out. It’s about persistence, presence, and openness. It’s about letting Him in—into the laughter, the tears, the tiny moments that make up life. “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest,” (Matthew 11:28) reminds me that I can bring my struggles to Him, too, without fear or shame.

This journey isn’t always easy, and I won’t pretend it is. There are days when life feels heavy, when distractions pull in every direction, and when stopping to pray feels impossible. But every step I take toward God, every moment I pause to notice Him, every prayer I whisper—even the small, messy ones—feels like coming home. His presence isn’t distant or conditional. It’s woven into the fabric of our lives, quietly waiting for us to notice. And maybe you feel that too—the gentle tug, the whisper, the quiet reminder that you are loved beyond measure.

No matter how far we wander, no matter how imperfect our efforts, God’s love surrounds us, lifts us, and steadies us. It is constant, patient, and unwavering. And if we let ourselves open our hearts just a little, we can feel it wash over us, transforming ordinary moments into something sacred. “But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.” (Isaiah 40:31)

The journey may be hard. Some days, it may even feel impossible. But the reward—the joy, the peace, the undeniable presence of God—is worth every step. And I invite you to take that step with me, to seek Him in your own life, and to discover the depth of His love waiting patiently for each of us.