Christ Will Rescue You

Tuesday, March 24, 2026

Remain in God’s Perfect Peace

Jesus Christ tells us in John 14:1 (NLT), “Don’t let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God, and trust also in me.” There’s something about these words that hits deeper when you realize what He was facing in that moment. He wasn’t speaking from comfort. He was speaking with the cross right in front of Him. In the chapter before, He had just revealed that one of His own would betray Him, and you can feel the tension in the room. These were men who walked with Him, ate with Him, learned the Word through Him, and now they’re hearing that betrayal is sitting at the same table. And on top of that, He tells them He’s leaving. You know their hearts had to be stirred up, heavy, trying to process something they didn’t have the strength to hold yet.

But Jesus saw it. He always sees it. He knows the movement of the soul, the inward anxiety we try to hide. And right there, in the middle of their confusion, He didn’t offer a suggestion, He gave them an anchor. Don’t let your heart be troubled. Trust Me. His words weren’t just meant to comfort them in that moment, they were meant to stabilize them so they wouldn’t be overtaken by fear, distraction, or the enemy’s attempt to steal what He had already given them—peace.

Heavenly Father never designed life to be something we just observe, He designed it so that we would have to respond to it. And when it really comes down to it, every response we make is rooted in one of two places, faith or fear. There isn’t a middle ground like we sometimes try to convince ourselves. Everything branches out from those two. Jesus Christ made this plain in the way He taught and lived, constantly calling people out of fear and into faith, not just by what He said, but by who He is. One response keeps us aligned with Him, with His love, His light, His liberty, and His life. The other pulls us out of that alignment and into confusion, doubt, and bondage, which is exactly where the enemy wants us operating.

And the truth is, a lot of people don’t see this as real because they’ve been trained to believe that what they can touch and see is all there is. But Jesus never taught us to live anchored to what’s visible. He consistently pointed beyond it, showing us that the unseen realm carries the greater authority. That’s why 2 Corinthians 4:18 (NLT) reminds us, “So we don’t look at the troubles we can see now; rather, we fix our gaze on things that cannot be seen. For the things we see now will soon be gone, but the things we cannot see will last forever.” Jesus didn’t come just to get us through temporary situations, He came to reconnect us to what is eternal, so that our responses would be shaped by truth instead of fear.

God tells us in Psalm 91:1 (NLT), “Those who live in the shelter of the Most High will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty.” And through Jesus Christ, we now understand what that shelter really is. It’s not just a place, it’s a position in Him. It’s living close, staying connected, allowing His presence to cover us when everything around us feels unstable. This is where our souls find real rest, not in circumstances changing, but in remaining anchored in Him. Jesus made a way for us to live in that nearness, not visit it every now and then, but dwell there.

That’s why we’re instructed to respond differently, not with anxiety, not with fear, but by turning everything over to God in prayer. Philippians 4:6–7 (NLT) tells us, “6 Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. 7 Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus.”

This is the exchange Jesus invites us into. He’s not just telling us to stop worrying, He’s showing us what to do instead. Bring it to the Father. Say it out loud. Lay it down for real. Because peace doesn’t just show up randomly, it comes as a response to surrender. It comes when we choose to trust Him in the middle of what we don’t understand. And the kind of peace He gives isn’t fragile, it doesn’t fall apart when things around us don’t change right away. It stands guard. It holds its position over our hearts and our minds so that fear doesn’t take over and lead us somewhere Jesus never told us to go.

Now this is where we have to be honest with ourselves, because even when we know what God has said, our thoughts will still try to pull us in another direction. We start looking at everything going on around us and thinking, “How am I not supposed to worry about this?” And if we trace that back, we’ll see it didn’t come from Jesus. That mindset was learned. It was shaped by a world that teaches us to expect the worst and prepare for fear instead of trusting God. But Jesus Christ consistently showed us something different. He walked in full confidence in the Father, even when everything around Him looked like it was falling apart. And through Him, we’ve been brought into that same relationship. Our Father is not distant, not unsure, not lacking in power. He is fully able, fully present, and fully willing to move on behalf of those who trust Him.

Jesus Christ gave His life on the cross for us. He paid the price and saved us from a life of sin, darkness, and death. He restored us to a life where we could live in true peace with God. A response is required for this extraordinary gift. The way we respond to that kind of love is through trust. Real trust. The kind that chooses Him over fear, even when we don’t have all the answers.

Isaiah 26:3 (NLT) reminds us, “You will keep in perfect peace all who trust in you, all whose thoughts are fixed on you!” And that’s the part we can’t ignore. Where we fix our thoughts matters. If we keep letting them drift toward fear, we’ll feel it. But when we intentionally turn them back to Jesus, to His faithfulness, to His finished work, something shifts. Peace settles in. Not because everything changed, but because we did. So in times like these, we don’t bow to fear. We stay anchored in Jesus Christ, we stay in prayer, and we allow the peace that He promised to do exactly what He said it would do—keep us. ■

Scripture quotations marked (NLT) are taken from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Wheaton, Illinois 60189. All rights reserved.

Tuesday, March 17, 2026

When It Seems to Be Slipping Away

If we’re honest, some of us don’t feel like we’re walking in an abundant life—we feel like we’re trying not to lose what little peace we have left. Something feels off. What once felt strong now feels fragile, like it could slip through our hands if we’re not careful.

Yet Jesus already spoke truth over our lives. In John 10:10 (NKJV), He said, “The thief does not come except to steal, and to kill, and to destroy. I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly.” That means the life He secured for us isn’t lacking, broken, or barely holding on.

So where’s the disconnect?

It’s not that Jesus failed to provide. And it’s not that the promise lost its power. The real tension is this—while He came to give life, we still have an enemy who is committed to taking it piece by piece. Not always in obvious ways, but through subtle pressure, quiet discouragement, and patterns that slowly drain what God intended to flourish.

The truth is, the abundant life isn’t slipping away because it was never real—it feels that way because we haven’t fully recognized what’s working against us, or how to stand firm in what’s already been given. And until we deal with that honestly, it will always feel like we’re reaching for something that should already be ours.

Where the Loss Begins

The enemy rarely shows up all at once, trying to take everything in a single moment. If he did, we would recognize it immediately and respond with urgency. We would pray with intention, stand on the Word with confidence, and guard what belongs to us without hesitation. But that’s not usually how it happens, because the enemy understands that what is taken slowly is often unnoticed until it has already created distance.

In a lot of cases, the loss begins through small compromises, quiet distractions, and a gradual shift in our focus. The time we spend with Heavenly Father becomes less consistent, not because we’ve rejected Him, but because life feels full and demanding. Our sensitivity to the Holy Spirit isn’t lost overnight, but it can become less sharp when we ignore those gentle promptings or delay our obedience. What once stirred conviction in us may no longer move us in the same way. Over time, what was once alive and active in our soul can begin to feel distant. Not absent—but not as strong, not as steady, and not as influential as it once was.

Scripture reminds us how this process unfolds. James 1:14–15 (NLT) says, “Temptation comes from our own desires, which entice us and drag us away. These desires give birth to sinful actions. And when sin is allowed to grow, it gives birth to death.” What begins as something small and manageable can grow into something that slowly pulls us away from the life God intended us to walk in.

Jesus made it clear that the thief comes to steal, and stealing does not always appear aggressive or obvious. It can show up in ways that seem small in the moment—a little peace here, a little clarity there, until our confidence in God’s promises is weakened, or we’re pulling back spiritually and allowing our focus to shift away from the Lord. Left unchecked, these small areas of loss begin to accumulate until we find ourselves in a place we never intended to be, trying to understand how something so valuable began to slip.

That’s why we are warned to stay alert. 1 Peter 5:8 (NLT) says, “Stay alert! Watch out for your great enemy, the devil. He prowls around like a roaring lion, looking for someone to devour.” This isn’t meant to create fear, but awareness—because what we fail to watch, we can unintentionally lose ground in. When we understand how the enemy operates and recognize where we have allowed space for a slow drift in our walk, we position ourselves to respond differently. And that changes everything.

Strengthening What Remains

Even if it feels like something has slipped, that doesn’t mean it’s gone for good. God doesn’t leave us in that place—He calls us to wake up and respond. Revelation 3:2 (NLT) says, “Wake up! Strengthen what little remains, for even what is left is almost dead.” That’s not condemnation—that’s direction. It’s God letting us know there’s still something there worth fighting for, something that can come back to life if we stop ignoring it and start tending to it.

Strengthening what remains is going to require intention. It’s getting back to time with God even when you don’t feel like it. It’s listening when the Holy Spirit nudges you instead of brushing it off. It’s being honest about the areas where you’ve gotten a little too comfortable and a little less guarded. This is where spiritual strength is rebuilt—not in big moments, but in quiet consistency. Galatians 6:9 (NLT) says, “So let’s not get tired of doing what is good. At just the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don’t give up.” That means this isn’t about quick fixes—it’s about consistency that brings real change.

What felt like it was slipping doesn’t have to keep slipping. When you realign, when you get serious again about what God has placed in your hands, things begin to stabilize. Strength returns. Clarity comes back. And you find yourself standing in a place that feels steady again—not because everything is perfect, but because your life is rooted, fruitful, and secure in Him. ■

“When It Seems to be Slipping Away”, written by Kim for https://rescuefromdomesticviolence.blogspot.com© 2026. All rights reserved. All praise and honor to God through Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior.

Tuesday, March 10, 2026

Understanding Real Love

Learning the Difference Between Love and Dependence

Derek had one of the most tender hearts I had ever encountered in a man. I say that because life had already pushed him past what most people would consider a breaking point, yet he never lashed out in anger or spoke with bitterness. Even when he was hurting, there was a gentleness about him that never seemed to leave. But sometimes the greatest lessons about love are not learned in peaceful moments—they are revealed when a relationship begins to fall apart.

By the time Ashley entered his life, Derek was already a man who had learned how to carry pain quietly. He was strikingly handsome in a way that made people look twice—clear eyes, smooth skin that seemed almost unreal in its perfection—but he carried himself with a kind of humility that made it obvious he had never built his identity around his looks. After completing four years in the Army, he had joined the National Guard and was attending training in a nearby town when he met Ashley.

Ashley owned a small hair salon there. She was ambitious, outgoing, and deeply taken with Derek almost from the moment they met. Before long the two of them looked like the kind of couple people admire from a distance—attractive, warm, and seemingly well matched. It was easy to picture a future for them: a home filled with laughter and beautiful children who carried the kindness and humility both of them seemed to possess.

But life has a way of revealing truths we are not always prepared to face. An opportunity came to Derek that could advance his military career in ways he had never expected. It was the kind of opportunity that doesn’t come around twice. Accepting it meant relocating to another state and beginning a completely new chapter of life.

And somewhere in the quiet space where serious decisions are made, Derek realized something that unsettled him deeply. As much as he cared about Ashley, he did not see her as his wife. He did not see their future together. The opportunity stirred hope in him, but telling Ashley the truth felt like the hardest conversation he had ever faced.

The conversation was every bit as painful as he feared it would be. Ashley cried uncontrollably, but in that moment she appeared to accept what he had said. When Derek walked away that evening, he believed he had handled the situation the best way he knew how—honestly and with as much care as possible.

But weeks passed, and it became clear that Ashley was not recovering from the breakup the way Derek had hoped. She called him constantly. She showed up at his job during the day, pleading with him to reconsider. At times she even tried to interfere with the opportunity that required him to move away.

Ashley was asleep to something within herself and didn’t know it. In her mind there was no replacing Derek. Every waking moment felt like sheer panic, and the discomfort was overwhelming. She didn’t realize that her sense of worth had become tangled with Derek’s love, and that losing him felt like losing herself. No other man’s love could be as kind and tender, she thought. Rationalizing that it was worth it, she placed her business in jeopardy and almost lost everything she owned to try and get Derek back.

If we’re honest, many of us have faced moments where our hearts leaned too heavily on another person. When someone walks away and our peace disappears with them, it reveals something important about what we believed that relationship meant to our lives. Those painful moments can become an invitation from God to look deeper within and ask whether we have placed expectations on a person that only the love of Christ was meant to fulfill.

Ashley was desperate for love, but desperation is often the result of not fully knowing God’s love. When the heart does not rest in the love of God, it will look for someone else to fill that space. Ashley believed Derek was her everything, and this is a dangerous lie many people quietly accept. No human being was ever meant to carry that weight. Only Jesus Christ can occupy that place in our hearts. The apostle John reminds us in 1 John 4:19 (NLT), “We love each other because he loved us first.” When we understand that Christ’s love for us is complete and unshakable, we are no longer driven by fear, desperation, or the need for another person to validate our worth.

God looks far deeper than the surface of our emotions. He looks directly at the heart. Jeremiah 17:10 (NLT) tells us, “But I, the LORD, search all hearts and examine secret motives.” The truth is that our responses in painful moments reveal what we truly believe. When someone walks away from us, it exposes whether our security rests in God or in another person. The Lord sees every motive and every hidden attachment, and He desires to heal the places in our hearts that have been leaning on something other than Him.

Real love is not obsession, desperation, or the fear of losing someone. Real love begins with God and flows through a life that trusts Him completely. Scripture tells us in Galatians 5:6 (NLT), “What is important is faith expressing itself in love.” When our hearts are rooted in Christ, we are no longer controlled by jealousy, panic, or emotional turmoil. Instead, we are free to love others in a healthy and genuine way—because our identity, our peace, and our worth are already secure in the love of Jesus Christ.

Until God’s love becomes enough for us, we will keep asking people to fill a place that only Christ was meant to occupy. ■

“Understanding Real Love: Learning the Difference Between Love and Dependence”, written for https://rescuefromdomesticviolence.blogspot.com© 2026. All rights reserved. All praise and honor to God through Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior.