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The Gift of Your Story

by Casey Combs
Guest Contributor 

Each of our lives is a series of stories. Maybe you really embarrassed yourself one time and now it is your go-to story to make your bestie laugh. Maybe you hurt yourself playing as a kid, and now you have a dramatic story to tell when people ask how you got that scar.…

Increase Our Faith

By Brittany Witkowski
Guest Contributor 

I recently had a pivotal moment in my view of God, specifically regarding my faith. I’ve been married to my husband for about three years now. One particular area of our marriage that we have grown in dramatically is the stewardship of our finances.…

A Letter to the Weary

By Suzy VanDyke
Originally published in Be Still Magazine, Issue 1 

Dear friend who feels like you can’t get out of bed in the morning;

Who feels guilty because nothing too terrible has happened to you lately: nobody has died, and you have food each day and a place to live.…

Soul Rest

By Cara Cobble Trantham
Originally published in Be Still Magazine, Issue 3

It seems the Lord keeps bringing me back to the same concepts over and over until I have explored every crack and corner and crevice.  

Sometimes, it feels like a canyon. 

One thing I’ve never been good at is rest.…

Crying Over Spilled Milk

By Kristyn Perez 
Lamp and Light Leader for The Daily Grace Co. 

They say not to cry over spilled milk, but I have.  

When my kids were little, there were expert mess-makers. As soon as I cleaned up a bin of toys, they’d pour them out.…

Be Still

By Abigail Eades 
Originally published in Be Still Magazine, Issue 10. 

On the morning of August 31, 2017, I received an unexpected package delivered to my front door. It was a belated birthday gift from my brother and sister-in-law—a small wall hanging with two words beautifully illustrated in lowercase script: “be still.” 

The timing of this gift was not lost on me.…

Grace Cultivated

by Liana Berrus 
Originally Published in Be Still Magazine, Issue 10 

It was a morning for pulling weeds. The rain had fallen steadily for several days, and the ground was soft. As I pulled the weeds from the damp earth, I was struck by a thought.…

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