The same God who saw Hagar and her affliction is the same God who sent Jesus to be our Well of Living Water. God is still El Roi, the God who sees you.
Author: Jennifer Deimund
Born and raised in Southwest Kansas, Jennifer is a small-town girl at heart. Her priorities are Faith, Family, and Friday Night Football, generally in that order, and most nights she can be found entangled in extreme adventures - lived vicariously through her ever-present Kindle and a package of Oreos. Her husband, three kids and their three dogs keep her busy and contribute generously to her glamorous lifestyle of cleaning, cooking and spoiling her grandson. The benefit package is just as generous, though, and their laughter and love are her favorite rewards.
Who Told You?
For years, I believed that I have value, and I have worth, all because I have accomplished what I set out to accomplish. I just never realized that Satan, too, is pleased with my efforts. He probably squeals with glee when another day passes during which I have valued my efforts more than I saw my value through the eyes of my Father.
Not Strong Enough
The God we serve is more than able to use our obedience in ways that cannot be imagined. That, alone, is amazing news. But what quiets my anxiety the most is that His plan for my life has already factored in my less-than-stellar-ness: my failures, my blunders and bad decisions, my boasting big mouth and even my willful disobedience. He knows that I am a sinner constantly in need of His grace. He created me; of course He knows. That’s the point: He knows and can use me anyway.
Breakfast with Jesus
Our identity isn’t found in the mistakes that we’ve made. We have been given an identity from God, and He calls us loved, cherished, redeemed, forgiven… and launched into a ministry so powerful, we become unapologetically bold in sharing the message of Jesus. It’s time to join Jesus for breakfast…
Horseshoes and Hand Grenades
The first time my world imploded, it was late on a Saturday night. I truly thought the pain would take me under. I distinctly remember the sensation of drowning – in despair, in disbelief, but most of all, I was drowning in grief. Chasing the sweet bliss of sleep that night was fruitless, but I… Continue reading Horseshoes and Hand Grenades