thechristiantechnerd

Loving God with All Your Heart: What True Devotion Looks Like

Posted on June 24, 2025August 26, 2025 by thechristiantechnerd

I feel both full and convicted. Full—because You’ve (GOD) been so present in my life lately. Convicted—because I realize there’s so much more of my heart I haven’t truly surrendered to You.

I keep coming back to this verse:

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength.”
— Deuteronomy 6:5 (NIV)

All. That word has been echoing in my spirit lately. Not some of my heart. Not most of my soul. Not when it’s convenient. But all. Every part of who I am. Every moment. Every breath. Every hidden corner.

And if I’m honest with myself—painfully honest—I don’t know if I’ve really loved You with all my heart. I love You deeply, passionately, with a reverence that shapes my life. But I also know that sometimes I hold pieces of myself back. I cling to control, pride, comfort, and even fear.

This morning during my quiet time, I asked myself a tough question:
What does true devotion to God actually look like?

It’s not just going to church. It’s not just reading my Bible every morning. It’s not even just avoiding sin.

True devotion looks like love in action. It’s consistent surrender. It’s obedience even when it’s hard. It’s valuing Your voice over everyone else’s—even my own. It’s daily saying: Not my will, Lord, but Yours be done.

“If you love me, keep my commandments.”
— John 14:15 (KJV)

That verse wrecks me. Because it shows that love for You isn’t just emotional—it’s practical. Tangible. Expressed through obedience. You’re not asking me for a warm feeling. You’re asking for my life.

And I want to give it to You. Not just on the days I feel “spiritual,” but on the days I feel messy, distracted, or tired. Because You never asked for perfect—You asked for all.

Lord, teach me what it really means to love You with all my heart. I don’t want to be lukewarm. I don’t want to follow You halfway. I want to burn with devotion for You. I want my life to scream, “Jesus is worth everything.”

You showed me something today during my walk. As I passed this tree, I noticed how deeply its roots had grown into the ground. I felt You whisper, “That’s what I want your love to look like—deep, anchored, unshakable.”

I want roots like that. I don’t want to be the girl whose love withers in the heat of trial. I want to be found faithful, even when no one’s watching. Even when it costs me comfort or approval. Even when You’re asking me to do something I don’t understand.

That’s what loving You with all my heart looks like:
Loving You when I don’t feel You.
Loving You when prayers go unanswered.
Loving You when obedience is painful.
Loving You more than my own desires.

I think about Abraham and how he was willing to sacrifice Isaac. That’s what You call true devotion. That story always stretches me, but it also inspires me. Abraham trusted You so much, he was willing to give up the one thing he loved most. I want a heart like that.

“You shall have no other gods before me.”
— Exodus 20:3 (ESV)

No idols. Not relationships, not comfort, not success, not self. Nothing before You. That’s the challenge of true devotion—it requires an undivided heart. And some days, I realize how much work I still have to do.

Lord, search my heart. Tear down anything that competes with You. I don’t want to say I love You while secretly placing my trust in lesser things.

Right now, I want to offer You this simple, sincere prayer:

Father God,

You are worthy of my whole heart. Forgive me for the times I’ve given You only pieces of myself—when I’ve been half-hearted in worship, distracted in prayer, or hesitant in obedience.

Create in me a clean heart, O God. Renew a right spirit within me. Teach me to love You more deeply, more honestly, more fully. Help me to love You with all my heart, all my soul, all my strength—and not just in theory, but in how I live, speak, and choose each day.

Let my love for You be proven in the quiet places, not just the public ones. Make my heart soft to Your voice, and my feet quick to follow it.

In Jesus’ name,
Amen.

Something I’ve learned lately is that love without discipline doesn’t go very far. That’s why I’ve been asking the Holy Spirit to help me build spiritual habits that reflect devotion—not obligation. It’s not about performing for You. It’s about being near You. Staying close.

So here’s what I’ve been working on:

Intentional time with You (not just checking a box)
Fasting distractions that pull my heart in different directions
Saying yes to uncomfortable obedience—like reaching out to someone I’d rather avoid
Choosing purity in how I talk, what I watch, and how I date
Praising You first—even before I ask for anything

None of these things earn Your love. But they flow from it. They’re the fruit of a heart that’s in love with You.

True devotion isn’t flashy. It’s steady. It’s showing up every day and saying, “Here I am, Lord. All of me. Again.”

“Blessed are those who keep His testimonies, who seek Him with the whole heart.”
— Psalm 119:2 (NKJV)

With my whole heart. That’s what I want, God. Not half. Not 80%. All.

I know I’ll fall short. I’ll have moments when I waver, when my heart gets pulled by shiny distractions or loud opinions. But even then, I pray You’ll pull me back. Redirect me. Remind me of the cross. Remind me of grace. Because the beautiful thing about loving You is that it’s not about perfection—it’s about pursuit.

And I’m pursuing You, Jesus. Day by day. Thought by thought. Step by step. I want to finish this life having poured it all out for You, with no regrets, no holding back.

So tonight, I’m making a quiet vow:
To love You not just with my words, but with my life.
To love You when no one else sees.
To love You with all my heart—even when it breaks.

Because You are worthy of all of me.

Cling to the Cross: How to Keep Yourself in God’s Love

Posted on June 24, 2025August 30, 2025 by thechristiantechnerd

For a while now, at least since Spring I’d honestly say, my heart has been heavy, but not with sorrow—more like reverence. A deep, weighty awareness of how fragile my love can be compared to Yours (God’s). I’ve been sitting with Jude 21 all week:

“Keep yourselves in God’s love as you wait for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ to bring you to eternal life.” – Jude 21 (NIV)

That verse doesn’t let me off the hook. It commands me. It tells me that remaining in Your love isn’t automatic—it’s intentional. And that convicts me.

Because, God… how many times have I allowed distractions, fears, or even just apathy to distance me from You? How many times have I let my emotions steer me away from Your presence instead of clinging to the cross like it’s my lifeline—which it is?

I sat in my car earlier after running errands, and I just started crying. Not out of sadness, really, but out of this mix of longing and guilt. I want to stay in Your love, but some days I don’t even know what that really looks like. And yet—Your voice, gentle and steady, reminded me: Cling to the cross.

Not just in the hard moments. Not just on Sundays. But every single day.

When I woke up this morning, I prayed out of routine. But by the time I got to mid-afternoon, I had already snapped at someone, scrolled mindlessly through my phone, and barely acknowledged You in the middle of my thoughts. And then tonight, You bring me back again—to Your Word, to Your presence, to Your mercy. You always bring me back.

“Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine.” – John 15:4 (NIV)

You are the Vine. The source of love, strength, and truth. I’m just a branch. I dry out so quickly when I’m not connected to You. I think that’s why Jude tells us to keep ourselves in Your love. Because the world pulls hard. Our flesh pulls even harder. And the only way to stay in Your love is to choose it daily—to choose You daily.

Jesus, I don’t want to just visit Your love when life falls apart. I want to live there. Dwell there. Make it the home my heart always returns to. I want to cling to the cross—not out of desperation, but out of love and dependence.

I thought about what clinging to the cross really means, and I think it starts with remembering. Remembering what You did for me. Not just in a distant, “Sunday-school” way, but really reflecting on it. You gave everything. You suffered shame, pain, rejection—all for me. You didn’t hold back. How could I?

Lord, help me not to treat Your sacrifice like a safety net I only fall into. Help me treat it like the center of my life—the reason I do what I do, the lens I see everything through. When I’m tempted to wander, bring me back to Calvary. When I doubt, show me Your hands. When I feel unworthy, let me hear Your voice again: It is finished.

I guess what I’m realizing is that clinging to the cross looks a lot like choosing You in the smallest moments. Like…

Opening my Bible instead of opening a complaining text.
Choosing prayer over worry.
Forgiving when I want to sulk.
Turning off the noise and just sitting in silence with You.

“Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for He who promised is faithful.” – Hebrews 10:23 (ESV)

You are so faithful, Lord. Even when I’m not. Even when I wander. Even when I forget. And that faithfulness pulls me back into Your love every single time. It’s not a love I earned—it’s a love You gave. Freely.

Tonight, I wrote this simple prayer in my journal and I want to pray it out loud now:

Father God,

Thank You for the cross. Thank You that Your love was poured out in blood, not just in words. Remind me daily that Your love is not distant—it’s present. It’s active. It’s sacrificial.

Lord, help me to keep myself in that love. Teach me how to cling tightly when the world distracts and the enemy lies. Strengthen my heart to obey, to abide, and to remember that no matter what’s happening around me, Your love is constant.

When I feel cold or distant, draw me near again. Let my soul be tethered to Your cross—never wandering too far, never forgetting the cost of grace.

In Jesus’ holy name,
Amen.

Check Out My Patriot Supply’s 4th of July Discounts on Emergency Food and Generators that Every Christian Family Needs!

You know, I used to think “keeping myself in God’s love” meant being perfect. Like, if I read my Bible enough, prayed long enough, behaved good enough—then I’d stay in it. But now I know: Your love isn’t something I have to perform for. But keeping myself in it? That’s about protecting the space You’ve made for me. It’s about fighting to remain in the awareness of Your grace—fighting to stay in the shelter of it when my emotions say otherwise.

I’m reminded of Psalm 91:

“He will cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you will find refuge; His faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.” – Psalm 91:4 (NIV)

Your love is my refuge. My safe place. My covering. And I don’t want to step out from under that. I want to stay close—no matter how grown-up or independent I feel. Because truthfully? I’m nothing without You. I don’t want to be anything without You.

Tomorrow, I’ll wake up and whisper again, “Cling to the cross.” When my thoughts scatter, when my heart grows tired, when the enemy tries to accuse—I’ll choose the cross. I’ll choose the love that never gives up on me. The love that bleeds and redeems and resurrects.

I don’t always know what lies ahead, Lord. But I know what holds me now: Your love. And I’m keeping myself in it by clinging tightly to You.

God’s Got This: Resting in His Faithfulness

Posted on June 24, 2025August 30, 2025 by thechristiantechnerd

I needed to write tonight (Sunday June 22nd). My heart feels heavy, not with hopelessness, but with questions, confusion, and honestly—this overwhelming need to let go and trust You. It’s just… hard sometimes. My mind knows the truth: You are good, You are faithful, You are in control. But my emotions? They don’t always catch up.

Today was one of those days that tested me. Work was chaotic, and I felt like nothing I did was enough. I tried my best—stayed online late, double-checked everything in my project case, fake-smiled through it all. But deep down, I felt anxious. Not because of the project itself, but because I’m scared. Scared that I’m failing. Scared that You’re disappointed in me. Scared that maybe I’m not where I’m “supposed” to be.

But You reminded me of something powerful today.

Right in the middle of my anxious spiral, a verse popped into my head—like You whispered it gently to my spirit:

“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 (NIV)

I’ve read that verse probably a hundred times. I’ve memorized it. Quoted it. But today… today it hit differently. I realized I’ve been leaning so hard on my own understanding. My own logic. My five-year plan. My checklist of how things should be going by now. And in doing that, I’ve subtly told You that I trust my own ability to figure life out more than I trust You.

That stung.

God, I’m sorry. I truly am. I know You don’t expect perfection from me, but You do want my trust. You want my surrender. And that doesn’t mean giving up—it means handing over the steering wheel and saying, “God, drive. I’ll go wherever You take me.”

So tonight, I’m choosing to say it again: God, You’ve got this. Whatever “this” looks like—my career, my relationships, my finances, my emotions, my future—I’m giving it to You. I want to be like David when he said:

“When I am afraid, I put my trust in You.”
— Psalm 56:3 (ESV)

Even David, a man after Your own heart, felt fear. But he didn’t stay there. He put his trust in You. Actively. Intentionally. That’s what I want to do too.

Here’s the truth, Lord. Trusting You isn’t always a one-time thing. For me, it’s like… a million little moments every single day. I trust You when I pray. I trust You when I let go of what I can’t control. I trust You when I stop rehearsing worst-case scenarios in my head. I trust You when I choose peace over panic.

🇺🇸 Check Out My Patriot Supply’s Amazing 4th of July Discounts on Emergency Food and Generators that Every Christian Family Needs! 🇺🇸 🇺🇸

Honestly, it’s humbling. I’m 24, and there’s so much I thought I’d have figured out by now. But maybe that’s part of the journey. Maybe You’re allowing this space of “not knowing” to teach me how to walk by faith and not by sight.

“For we walk by faith, not by sight.”
— 2 Corinthians 5:7 (KJV)

Lord, that verse has been my anchor lately. It’s so countercultural to walk by faith. The world screams, “Have a plan. Be in control. Know what’s next.” But You whisper, “Follow Me. Trust Me. I know the way.”

Tonight, I needed to write all this out to remind myself—and maybe even to declare to You again—that I do trust You. Even when it’s messy. Even when my heart trembles. Even when I can’t see two steps ahead.

You’ve been too faithful for me to doubt You now.

I remember when I prayed for this job. You opened the door. I remember when I prayed for peace during Mom’s surgery. You flooded me with it. I remember when I asked You to show me if that relationship wasn’t from You—and You did, even though it hurt. You’ve always been there. Always come through. Always held me when I felt like I was falling.

So if I believe that You were God then, I need to believe You’re still God now.

Here’s a little prayer I want to pray tonight before bed:

Heavenly Father,
Thank You for being patient with me when I waver. Thank You for holding me when I’m tired of trying to hold everything together. I lay down my need to control, my fear of failure, my doubt, and my anxiety at Your feet.
You are the Author and Perfecter of my faith. I trust that You are writing a beautiful story, even if I’m only on a confusing page right now. Help me to rest in the truth that You see me, You know me, and You love me more than I can comprehend.
Teach me to trust You more tomorrow than I did today.
In Jesus’ name,
Amen.

I think about Peter walking on water sometimes. The second he looked at the waves instead of Jesus, he sank. And yet—You didn’t let him drown. You reached out and pulled him back up. That story gets me every time.

You didn’t shame him for looking away. You didn’t abandon him when he got scared. You just reached out and saved him.

That’s who You are, Lord.

You’re not waiting for me to be perfect. You’re just waiting for me to trust You.

So tomorrow, I’m going to my best to wake up and remind myself: God’s got this.

Faith on Display: Is It Meant to Be Shared?

Posted on June 19, 2025August 30, 2025 by thechristiantechnerd

Last night I sat in the corner booth of a cute little mom and pop coffee shop with my Bible open, my journal beside me, and a peppermint tea in hand—just like every Wednesday pretty much. But something about last night felt… different. Not in a dramatic or supernatural way, just a subtle stirring in my spirit that I couldn’t ignore.

There was a girl sitting two tables down. She looked about my age, maybe a little younger. Alone. Earbuds in, but she wasn’t really focused on her phone. She glanced at my Bible more than once. Not judging—more like curious.

I felt this nudge in my spirit—one I’ve felt before and honestly, too often ignored.

“Say something. Smile. Ask her if she wants to talk or pray.”

But I didn’t.

I froze. I told myself, “Maybe she doesn’t want to be bothered,” or “She probably thinks I’m weird.” And then, like a coward, I packed up and left early.

God, I’m sorry. Truly.

I’ve been thinking about this question for weeks now: Is my faith meant to be shared? And the answer is always yes. A loud, resounding yes. But I still hesitate.

Why?

I guess I don’t want to come off as “that girl”—the one who forces faith into every conversation. But then again… why shouldn’t I be that girl if I truly believe this is life-saving truth?

Romans 1:16 says, “For I am not ashamed of the gospel, because it is the power of God that brings salvation to everyone who believes.”

Am I ashamed? I don’t think so. But maybe I act like I am sometimes. That hurts to write out.

When I really sit with the thought, I think I’m more afraid of rejection than I am of disobedience. That’s heavy.

But Jesus never called us to comfort. He said, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me” (Luke 9:23).

Denying myself includes denying that fear. That worry about awkwardness. That instinct to self-protect.

I think about the early church—how they risked everything to share the gospel. Not just reputation, but their very lives. And me? I can’t even risk an awkward moment in a coffee shop?

Lord, forgive me for my silence.

I remember reading 1 Peter 3:15—“Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have.” But it doesn’t stop there. It says to do this “with gentleness and respect.”

So maybe it’s not about being loud or invasive. It’s about being available. Present. Willing.

What would it look like if I made it a point to be more intentional? Not to push Jesus on people, but to present Him—in how I speak, how I love, how I show up in everyday moments?

Honestly, it’s easy to talk about Jesus when I’m with other Christians. At church, youth group, Bible study—we’re all speaking the same language. But outside those circles, I shrink. And that’s something I desperately want to change.

I don’t want a compartmentalized faith.

I want a faith that overflows. One that people can see and feel, even without a word—but especially with one.

Jesus said in Matthew 5:14-16:
“You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden… let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.”

What good is a light if I’m constantly hiding it under the weight of my own insecurity?

I don’t have all the answers. I’m still figuring out what it looks like to live a bold faith in a quiet, unassuming world. But I know this: I don’t want to live a life that keeps Jesus a secret.

So tonight, I’m praying this prayer.

A Prayer for Boldness and Compassion

Father,
You see every part of me—the parts that want to shout Your name from the rooftops, and the parts that whisper when I should speak boldly. I thank You that You’re patient with me. That You don’t condemn me for my hesitations, but gently invite me deeper.

Lord, give me courage. Not the kind the world gives, but the holy, Spirit-filled kind that can only come from You. The courage to speak when it’s uncomfortable. To offer a word, a smile, a prayer—even when I don’t know how it will be received.

Let me never be ashamed of the Gospel, because I know it’s the power of salvation. Remind me that sharing You isn’t about perfection or performance—it’s about love. Help me love people enough to risk my own pride.

And Lord, make me sensitive. Let me listen well. Let me follow Your nudges. Let me be a light—not a spotlight, not a floodlight—just a gentle, warm flame that points to You.

I surrender my fear, my image, my comfort. Use me, Lord. Not someday. Not when I feel ready. But now.

In Jesus’ name,
Amen.

So that’s where I was last night. A mix of conviction, hope, and longing. I don’t want to be silent anymore. My faith isn’t just mine—it’s a gift meant to be shared.

Next Wednesday, I’ll go back to that same coffee shop. Maybe she’ll be there again. Maybe she won’t. But either way, I’ll be ready this time.

And even if I’m not, God will be.

Faith Isn’t Just Positive Thinking, It’s Trusting God When It’s Hard

Posted on June 18, 2025August 30, 2025 by thechristiantechnerd

I feel the weight of a question that’s been whispering in the back of my mind for a while now: What’s the real difference between faith and optimism? At first, I thought maybe it was just semantics—two pretty words that kind of meant the same thing. But after what’s happened this past month—between losing my part-time job, watching Mom go through another round of treatment, and waking up every day with that strange heaviness—I’m beginning to realize they’re definitely not the same.

Optimism says, “Things will work out.”
Faith says, “Even if they don’t, I will still trust Him.”

I think optimism is born from hope in circumstances. But faith? Faith is born from trust in a Person—Jesus. It’s more than a positive outlook. It’s an anchor. And I’m learning that faith doesn’t always come with good feelings or sunny thoughts. Sometimes, it feels like standing in the rain with nothing but a promise to hold onto.

“Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” – Hebrews 11:1

This verse hit me hard today. I’d read it so many times before, but it felt brand new in light of what I’m walking through. Faith isn’t pretending things are okay—it’s believing God is still good, even when everything else is not.

Prayer 1:

Lord Jesus, help me not to confuse Your promises with my preferences. Teach me to walk by faith, not by feelings or favorable outcomes. Let my heart rest in Your faithfulness, even when my world feels uncertain. Amen.

Earlier this morning, I talked to Ava about it over coffee. She said, “Faith is like walking blindfolded, knowing God’s the one guiding your steps. Optimism just hopes you don’t trip.”

That made me laugh—but it also stuck. I’ve been blindly hoping things would just get better. I wanted the storm to pass. But now I’m starting to ask God, “How are You shaping me in this storm?”

“For we walk by faith, not by sight.” – 2 Corinthians 5:7

It’s easy to be optimistic when your bank account’s full, when your prayers are answered fast, and when the people you love are thriving. But when none of that is true—when your heart feels like it’s unraveling—what’s left?

Faith.

Raw, unpretty, real faith.

Faith that keeps you praying when it feels like nothing’s changing.
Faith that opens your Bible when your heart feels numb.
Faith that says, “Even here, He is with me.”

Prayer 2:

Father, I don’t want a faith that depends on how I feel or what I see. I want a faith rooted in who You are—unchanging, unfailing, always near. Help me trust You, even in the silence. Amen.

This afternoon I sat by the lake near campus, just watching the water ripple and listening to the breeze. And I thought: optimism stares at the surface and says, “Look how calm it is today.” But faith knows, “Even if the storm comes, I’m in the boat with Jesus.”

It reminds me of when Peter walked on the water. He was fine until he took his eyes off Jesus and looked at the wind. I do that a lot. I let my eyes settle on the news, my bank statement, my fears. And that’s when I start sinking.

“But when he saw the wind, he was afraid, and beginning to sink, cried out, ‘Lord, save me!’” – Matthew 14:30

And you know what? Jesus didn’t shame him. He reached out and saved him. That’s the kind of God I have—not a distant judge but a present Savior.

Prayer 3:

Jesus, when my faith falters, be quick to catch me. Remind me to keep my eyes on You—not the waves. I trust that Your hand is never too far from mine. Amen.

Something else came to me tonight. Optimism says, “It’s going to be okay.”
But faith says, “Even if it’s not okay, He is still with me.”

That changes everything. It means I don’t have to fake a smile when my heart aches. I don’t have to pretend I’m strong when I’m tired. I can bring every fear, every doubt, every raw thought straight to Him—and He won’t turn me away.

“Cast all your cares upon Him, for He cares for you.” – 1 Peter 5:7

That word “cares” is so gentle. God isn’t annoyed by my tears or overwhelmed by my anxiety. He wants me to come closer, not clean myself up first.

Prayer 4:

God, thank You for being a safe place for my soul. When I feel fragile and weary, help me to remember You care about every detail. Draw me near when I want to run. Amen.

So tonight, here’s where I land:
Optimism looks for signs.
Faith trusts the unseen.

Optimism might help me survive the day, but faith teaches me how to thrive, even in the dark.

And you know what else? Faith doesn’t mean I’ll never feel afraid. It means fear doesn’t get the final say. It means I believe God is doing something good, even when I can’t understand it yet.

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him.” – Romans 8:28

That “all things” part isn’t just the sweet moments. It’s the hard ones too. The heartbreaks. The waiting seasons. The losses. All of it. God doesn’t waste anything.

Prayer 5:

Lord, make my heart brave—not because I know the future, but because I know You. Let my faith grow deep roots, so even when storms come, I won’t be shaken. Use this season for Your glory, even when I don’t understand it yet. Amen.

Well, I think I’ll close this page and sit with Him a little longer tonight. Maybe read a Psalm, maybe just sit in the quiet. I’m learning that silence isn’t always emptiness. Sometimes, it’s where God speaks the loudest.

Please Lord, redeem California And protect this country from Gavin Newsom

Posted on June 12, 2025June 18, 2025 by thechristiantechnerd

I am so frustrated right now. I can hardly focus on anything else but this heavy, burning weight in my heart about what’s happening in California—and what could happen to this entire country if people don’t wake up. I just need to pour it all out here, because I can’t yell it from the rooftops the way I want to, and I’m honestly too angry to speak to people about it without it turning into a fight. So I’m going to give it to You, Lord, raw and real.

Click Here to Watch How Disgraceful Gavin Newsom Really Is

Scripture #1 – Psalm 94:16
“Who will rise up for me against the wicked? Who will take a stand for me against evildoers?”
Lord, I feel like this verse is my whole mood lately. Who is standing up against the wicked policies in California? Who’s fighting for the unborn? For the children? For families who just want to raise their kids without the government shoving perversion, confusion, and chaos into their homes? I’m begging You to raise up leaders in California who love You, who fear You, and who will stand up against Gavin Newsom and everything he represents.

Prayer #1
Father God, I pray right now for the people of California. Open their eyes. Tear the veil off their faces. Show them what’s really happening. Give them wisdom to vote out Gavin Newsom. Let truth pierce through the deception and emotional manipulation. Raise up godly voices with courage. Silence the voices of confusion and darkness. Amen.

I look at what California has become under Newsom, and it makes me sick. Literal sanctuary for abortion—even pushing for full-term and post-birth killing. Schools hiding gender transitions from parents. Drag shows for kids. Skyrocketing crime. Taxes. Fires. Homelessness. People fleeing the state because they can’t take it anymore. And what does Gavin do? Smile for the cameras and pretend it’s all part of some glorious progressive utopia. It’s delusional. It’s evil.

And what’s worse is that he thinks he deserves to be President. President of the United States?!? God, I can’t even stomach the thought.

Scripture #2 – Isaiah 5:20
“Woe to those who call evil good and good evil, who put darkness for light and light for darkness…”
Yes, Lord. That’s exactly what’s happening. They’re painting sin as virtue. They’re labeling righteousness as bigotry. And this man is leading the charge with his fake smile and soft voice, acting like he’s some moral hero when he’s literally spitting on Your Word and leading people astray.

Prayer #2
Jesus, I pray You would block Gavin Newsom from ever becoming President. Shut every door. Let the plans of the wicked be exposed and fall apart. Guard our nation from even entertaining the idea. Don’t let charisma or polished words deceive people. Give voters discernment. Give us courage to say “No.” We don’t need another puppet of darkness in the White House. Amen.

I know anger isn’t supposed to rule me. I’m not proud of how intense this is, but how can I not feel furious? He uses religion when it benefits him—quoting Jesus to justify killing babies. Quoting scripture to support policies that break Your commandments. It’s blasphemy. And people eat it up because it’s coated in political correctness and “tolerance.”

Scripture #3 – Proverbs 29:2
“When the righteous are in authority, the people rejoice: but when the wicked rule, the people mourn.”
That’s what California is doing—mourning. Silently, loudly, desperately. People are mourning their neighborhoods, their safety, their faith, their families, their very sanity under the weight of wicked leadership.

Prayer #3
God, raise up righteous leaders. We need bold men and women who are rooted in Your truth and not afraid to speak it. I pray for local elections, school boards, governors—let there be a holy uprising of people who are not ashamed of the Gospel. And may California, of all places, be a place where revival breaks out—not just spiritually, but politically and morally. Amen.

Sometimes I wonder if anyone else my age even cares. Most of them are either totally brainwashed or too afraid to say anything because it’s “unpopular.” But silence is complicity. And I’m not staying silent. I won’t. If that means losing friends, fine. If that means being the “crazy Christian girl” in the group chat, so be it. I care more about pleasing God than fitting in.

Scripture #4 – Galatians 1:10
“Am I now trying to win the approval of human beings, or of God? Or am I trying to please people? If I were still trying to please people, I would not be a servant of Christ.”
That hits hard. I am a servant of Christ. I will speak truth, even when it costs me. Even if I’m mocked or labeled “intolerant.” Jesus wasn’t crucified for being politically correct. He was crucified for being right.

Prayer #4
Jesus, give me the boldness to speak the truth in love. Help me to not be ruled by anger, but to let it drive me toward action. Give me grace and clarity. Let my words reflect Your heart, even when I’m confronting darkness. And help others my age to rise up too. Light a fire in this generation. Amen.

I keep praying for California. It’s where so much influence comes from—media, tech, culture. If it stays under corrupt leadership, the rest of the nation suffers. And Gavin Newsom is a huge part of the problem. He’s not just a symptom—he’s a driver. A slick, dangerous one.

Scripture #5 – Ephesians 5:11
“Have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness, but rather expose them.”
I will not pretend like he’s just “a different opinion.” This is about life and death, truth and lies, freedom and oppression. I will expose the lies. And I’ll keep praying that others will too.

Prayer #5
God, expose Gavin Newsom for who he truly is. Let the media spin fall flat. Let people see the spiritual truth behind his policies. Don’t let deception win. And please—PLEASE—do not let this man ever become President. Protect this country. Wake us up before it’s too late. In Jesus’ powerful name, Amen.

I know You’re in control, Lord. That gives me peace, even when I feel overwhelmed. I trust You. I do. I just needed to vent. To process. To cry out. Because I don’t want to see America fall deeper into darkness. I don’t want my future kids growing up in a nation run by leaders who mock Your design.

Please, Lord… redeem California. And protect this country from Gavin Newsom.

Evil Los Angeles Rioters: 4 Prayers for America’s Police Officers

Posted on June 11, 2025August 29, 2025 by thechristiantechnerd

I saw another clip today—more fires, more screaming, more broken glass and broken people. It’s all happening in Los Angeles again, and other cities too. I feel this awful weight in my chest, like I’m watching the heart of our country bleed out in slow motion. I just want to run somewhere quiet and safe, where the world isn’t upside down.

But most of all, I just keep thinking about the police officers—those men and women who go into the chaos every single day with a badge on their chest and targets on their backs. God, help them.

It feels like no one is praying for them anymore. Or maybe they are, but not loud enough. The world is shouting with so much anger that I wonder if our quiet prayers even get heard. But I have to believe they do. I have to.

Tonight, I prayed harder than I have in weeks. Not for myself, or even for peace in general—but specifically for every police officer in this country. The good ones. The tired ones. The scared ones. The brave ones. The ones who still show up even when they’re hated for just putting on the uniform.

I wrote down five prayers to keep in my Bible, and maybe I’ll print them and put them in my car or post them somewhere. Maybe someone else needs to pray them too.

Prayer 1: For Divine Protection
Dear Lord, please place Your heavenly protection around every police officer tonight. Whether they’re on duty in Los Angeles or in a quiet rural town, cover them with Your shield. Let no weapon formed against them prosper. Hold them close when they walk into danger, and guide their steps away from traps set by evil. Let them come home to their families safely. Please, Father, be their armor.

Prayer 2: For Peace in the Midst of Chaos
God, bring peace into the hearts of officers who are facing hostile crowds and terrifying situations. Let them feel Your presence in the noise. When bricks are thrown, when sirens scream, when their hands shake from adrenaline, remind them that they are never alone. Be their calm, their stillness in the storm. Let them breathe You in when everything around them feels like it’s falling apart.

Prayer 3: For Moral Strength and Discernment
Father, give officers the strength to do what is right even when it’s hard. Let them be just, wise, and merciful. Help them discern truth in a world full of lies and deception. May they reflect Your light in dark places, and make decisions with courage and integrity. Lord, we know not every officer is perfect, but help them strive to be righteous in every moment.

Prayer 4: For Their Families
Lord, please bless the families who say goodbye every morning not knowing if they’ll say hello again. Comfort the wives, husbands, parents, and children who wait by the door or the phone. Give them peace that surpasses understanding. Let them feel Your arms wrapped around them when anxiety creeps in. Protect not just the officers—but everyone who loves them.

Sometimes I feel silly writing things like this down, like maybe people would roll their eyes if they knew how much I care. But I do. I care so much it hurts. And I think part of that is because I’ve seen the other side. I’ve had friends in law enforcement. I’ve prayed with them, cried with them, and once even went to a funeral for one of them. He was only 30. Shot trying to help someone who was being robbed.

People don’t see that side. They see uniforms and headlines. They forget the tears. They forget that officers have hearts, that they go home and kiss their kids goodnight just like everyone else. And now, in this season of riots and rage, it feels like we’ve stopped listening. We’ve let hate be louder than hope.

But I won’t stop praying. Even if I’m the only one in my circle who does. Even if people think it’s old-fashioned or naive. I believe that prayer moves mountains. I believe that Jesus walks with our police officers, especially in the middle of the fire. And if no one else will say their names in prayer—I will.

So tonight, as my candles flicker and the wind blows outside, I lift every officer’s name up to heaven. The ones I know, and the ones I don’t. The ones who feel invisible. The ones who are barely holding on. The ones who still believe in protecting and serving, even when it costs everything.

Lord, hold them close. Don’t let go of them.

And maybe—just maybe—heal us too.

Jehovah-Jireh: Relax and Never Forget That God is Always in Control

Posted on June 5, 2025September 25, 2025 by thechristiantechnerd

This was a very difficult post for me to write, although it may not seem like it while reading, but this is my 5th draft, and I’m still not sure if it’s as polished as I hoped it would be, but I started writing this a few weeks ago, and have decided to hit “PUBLISH”. I do hope it’s worthy of your eyes. God bless!

Please enjoy………

If you were to ask me which name of God means the most to me, I wouldn’t even hesitate. Without a doubt, it’s Jehovah-Jireh — “The Lord Will Provide.” It’s one of those names that has become deeply personal over the years. Not just a theological concept or something I read about once in a devotional, but a truth that I’ve had to cling to through real-life moments of fear, uncertainty, and waiting.

The first time this name shows up in Scripture is in Genesis 22, and honestly, every time I read that story, it hits a little different. It’s the one where God tells Abraham to sacrifice his beloved son, Isaac — the very child God had promised him. Like, imagine that. You finally get the promise you’ve waited years and years for, and now God asks you to lay it on the altar? That’s intense.

So Abraham and Isaac climb up Mount Moriah. And somewhere along the way, Isaac notices something’s off. He looks around and goes, “Hey Dad, we’ve got the fire and the wood, but where’s the lamb for the burnt offering?” (Genesis 22:7). And Abraham, in what I imagine was a mix of steady faith and a trembling heart, answers, “God will provide for Himself the lamb for the burnt offering, my son.”

Spoiler alert (but also Bible history): just as Abraham is about to sacrifice Isaac, God stops him. An angel of the Lord calls out to him, and Abraham looks up to see a ram caught in a nearby thicket. God had already placed that ram there — ahead of time, before Abraham or Isaac even started their climb. Abraham ends up naming that place Jehovah-Jireh, saying, “On the mountain of the Lord it will be provided” (Genesis 22:14).

That phrase — Jehovah-Jireh — literally means “The Lord will provide,” but there’s something deeper in the original Hebrew. It carries the idea of seeing ahead of time. God doesn’t just provide in the moment; He sees your need before you even know you have one. He’s already made a way. He’s already put the ram in the thicket.

That gets me every time.

Because here’s the thing: life is hard. I’m 24, and while I’m still learning and growing (a lot!), I’ve already been through enough to know that life rarely goes according to plan. The economy is wild. Friendships change. Health scares show up out of nowhere. Doors close without warning. Sometimes it feels like everything is spinning, and I’m doing my best to hold it all together with coffee, prayer, and a halfway decent Spotify worship playlist.

But in the middle of all that chaos, I come back to Jehovah-Jireh. I come back to the God who provides — the God who sees me and knows what I need, even when I don’t know how to ask for it.

If I’m being honest, one of my biggest struggles is control. I like to have a plan. I like to know what’s next. I’m that girl with the color-coded planner, the backup plans, and the contingency ideas just in case things don’t go perfectly. Letting go and trusting in God does come naturally for me, but trusting in others does not. It’s like getting on an airplane and handing over control to a pilot I’ve never met. I have no idea what they’re doing, how they’re navigating, or what turbulence is coming — but I have to trust they’ll get me safely to my destination.

That’s what walking with God is like. He sees the storm clouds before we even feel the raindrops. He knows which paths are dangerous and which ones will grow us. And He knows exactly when to bring the ram into view.

I’ve had seasons where provision looked like a last-minute job offer I didn’t expect. Other times, it was a friend texting at just the right moment to pray with me. I’ve seen God provide financially when I didn’t know how I’d pay rent. I’ve seen Him provide peace that didn’t make sense and guidance when I felt totally lost.

Provision isn’t always flashy. Sometimes it’s quiet — a small shift in your heart, a whisper of hope, a sense that even though you don’t have the full answer yet, you’re not alone. Jehovah-Jireh shows up in the details, in the waiting, and even in the heartbreak.

We tend to think that provision always means getting what we want — the dream job, the healing, the breakthrough. But sometimes, God provides in the not yet. Sometimes, His provision is the strength to endure. The grace to wait well. The peace that doesn’t come from circumstances, but from knowing He’s near.

God is never surprised. Like, ever. Nothing catches Him off guard. That test result? He saw it coming. That sudden layoff? He already had a plan. That friendship that fell apart? He knows what it means, and He knows how to heal you. He’s not distant. He’s not panicking. He’s not playing catch-up.

He is Jehovah-Jireh.

So here’s what I’m learning to do (imperfectly, but intentionally): I’m learning to take my hands off the wheel. I’m learning to stop trying to run the show and instead, trust that God is already ahead of me. I don’t have to manipulate things into working out. I don’t have to stress myself sick trying to make sure everything goes perfectly. My job is obedience and trust. His job is provision and timing.

If you’re in a season where you don’t see the ram yet — where you’re climbing the mountain and you’re tired and confused and wondering what in the world God is doing — take heart. He’s not late. He hasn’t forgotten you. The thicket is closer than you think.

Maybe the provision won’t look like what you expected. Maybe it’ll stretch your faith and require more waiting than you planned for. But you can trust that God will provide. Because it’s not just what He does — it’s who He is.

So today, even if your world feels unstable and your heart feels heavy, remember the God of Abraham. Remember the God who sees in advance. Remember Jehovah-Jireh.

And take a deep breath — He’s already gone ahead of you.

Beyond the Offense: Walking in Grace Every Day

Posted on June 4, 2025August 29, 2025 by thechristiantechnerd

I’ve been thinking a lot about grace — not just the kind God gives me (which is endless and overwhelming), but the kind I struggle to give others.

It hit me today while I was standing in line at the grocery store. The cashier was moving slowly, visibly flustered, and my first reaction was frustration. My thoughts weren’t kind. I didn’t say anything harsh out loud, but inside… I was not gracious. And I’ve been carrying that moment around with me all day. Not because it was huge, but because it revealed something in me.

Check Out My Patriot Supply’s Amazing Discounts on Emergency Food and Generators that Every Christian Family Needs!

I want to be someone who extends grace. But if I’m honest, I’m quick to criticize and slow to encourage. I spot flaws faster than I celebrate growth in others.

“Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.” – Ephesians 4:32 (NIV)

This verse has been tugging at my heart all week. God has shown me so much mercy — and I didn’t earn a bit of it. So why is it so hard for me to pass it on? Why do I expect people to be perfect, when I know I’m not?

Prayer 1:

Jesus, help me reflect You. Not just in what I say I believe, but in how I treat people. Make me someone who notices the good, who gives the benefit of the doubt, who’s patient with others the way You’re endlessly patient with me.

I’ve especially noticed how easy it is to be hard on the people closest to me. I snap at my siblings when they annoy me. I judge my friends for choices I don’t agree with. I get irritated when my parents repeat themselves or when my coworker is late — again. And yet, God doesn’t deal with me like that.

“The Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love.” – Psalm 103:8 (NIV)

I read that and think: How can I possibly mirror that kind of love? But then I remember — it’s not something I can manufacture on my own. It’s the Holy Spirit in me. Without Him, I’m just stuck in my old ways.

Prayer 2:
Holy Spirit, please shape me. Soften the parts of me that are harsh, impatient, and critical. Create in me a heart that is gentle and gracious. I want to grow, even if it means being uncomfortable.

I know I’m not alone in this. Our whole culture encourages us to “speak our truth,” to be brutally honest, to point out what’s wrong in everyone else. But I’m starting to see that sometimes the bravest thing is to hold back criticism, and instead speak words that build others up.

“Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up, according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.” – Ephesians 4:29 (NIV)

I feel convicted reading that. How often do my words actually build others up? Not as often as they should. I gossip sometimes, even if I call it venting. I speak in sarcasm and call it humor. I critique my church instead of praying for it. I highlight what’s lacking instead of celebrating what God is doing.

Prayer 3:
Father, forgive me for using my words carelessly. Help me be someone who speaks life, who encourages more than critiques. Let my mouth be an instrument of grace — not just with friends, but even with strangers.

What’s crazy is that I know grace works. I’ve experienced it. There have been times when I’ve failed, and instead of condemnation, I received love and understanding. Those moments changed me more than any lecture ever could.

So why don’t I lead with grace more often? Maybe it’s pride. Maybe I think people should know better. But then I think of Jesus — how He washed feet, how He forgave from the cross, how He invited sinners to eat with Him.

“But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” – Romans 5:8 (NIV)

He didn’t wait for us to clean up. He loved us right where we were. That humbles me. Because I don’t deserve that kind of love — and yet, I’ve received it every single day.

Prayer 4:
Jesus, make me more like You. Help me stop measuring others by standards I can’t even meet myself. Fill me with compassion. Let Your grace flow through me — not just to me.

I think one of the hardest things is learning to forgive people who don’t apologize, or who don’t even realize they hurt me. But I’ve learned that holding onto offense doesn’t protect me — it poisons me. Grace, on the other hand, frees me.

“Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.” – Colossians 3:13 (NIV)

That’s the standard. Forgive as the Lord forgave me. And how did He forgive me? Fully. Freely. Forever.

Prayer 5:
Lord, give me the strength to forgive when it’s hard. When people don’t say sorry. When they don’t change. When I’m tempted to hold a grudge. I want to live light and free — not weighed down by bitterness.

Tonight, as I sit with all of this, I feel a holy discomfort. God is stretching me. But it’s not out of guilt — it’s out of love. He’s inviting me into a new way of living. A way marked by grace. Not just receiving it, but extending it.

So tomorrow, I want to try again. I want to be slower to speak and quicker to understand. I want to catch myself before I criticize. I want to look for the good. And when I mess up — because I will — I’ll lean into His grace once again.

He’s not asking me to be perfect. He’s asking me to be surrendered.

Thank Goodness GOD Isn’t Fair

Posted on June 4, 2025August 29, 2025 by thechristiantechnerd

I sat on my bed after reading Luke 6:35 for probably the tenth time thisweek, but this time… it got under my skin. Like, deeply under.

“But love your enemies, do good to them, and lend to them without expecting to get anything back. Then your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High, because he is kind to the ungrateful and wicked.” — Luke 6:35

That verse makes me squirm. Not because I don’t love You—but because I don’t love them. The people who ghosted me. The friend who betrayed my trust. The guy who took my kindness and used it like a doormat. And yet, You’re telling me to love them? And not just tolerate them… but do good to them?

Check Out My Patriot Supply’s Amazing Discounts on Emergency Food and Generators that Every Christian Family Needs!

Prayer #1:
Lord, help me be honest about how hard this is. I want to follow You, even when it feels like I’m walking straight into pain.

I always thought fairness was a godly trait. You do good, you get good. Do bad, and well… consequences. But then here comes Jesus, saying, “Love the ones who hurt you. Give without expecting. Be kind to the ungrateful and the wicked.”

That’s not fair.

But You know what’s wild? I’m starting to think… maybe that’s the best thing about You, God.

Because if You were fair, if You gave me what I deserved—I’d be toast. And not the good kind. The burnt, stale kind.

“He does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities.” — Psalm 103:10

Prayer #2:
God, thank You for not being fair. Thank You for mercy that flows deeper than my mistakes.

Fairness would have left me out in the cold for all the lies I told in high school, for every time I gossiped to look cool, for the quiet pride I still carry in my chest that whispers, “I’m better than them.”

But grace? Grace says: I see it all… and I still want you.

Prayer #3:
Jesus, make me more like You. Teach me to love people who don’t “deserve” it—because that’s how You love me.

This is the hard truth I keep wrestling with: I’m not the hero in the story. I’m not the one extending grace from a throne of righteousness. I’m the one who needs it. Desperately.

And so when You say, “Be kind to the ungrateful and wicked,” maybe You’re not just talking about them. Maybe You’re talking about me.

Prayer #4:
Break down my pride, Lord. Help me stop seeing myself as better than others. Remind me we’re all standing in need of the same grace.

It’s easy to believe in grace when I’m the one receiving it. It’s way harder when You ask me to give it away like candy—especially to people who don’t even say thank you.

But then I remember… I don’t always say thank you either. I take Your blessings for granted. I doubt Your goodness. I disobey and apologize later like it’s no big deal. And You still love me. You still bless me.

“While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” — Romans 5:8

Prayer #5:
God, let that verse never lose its weight. You loved me while I was sinning. Not after. Not once I cleaned up. Right in the mess.

So when I say, “God isn’t fair,” I don’t mean it in the bitter way some people do. I mean it with relief. Because fair would’ve left me without hope. Fair would’ve cut me off the moment I messed up. But You? You run toward the mess. You meet me with kindness that I didn’t earn.

And now… You’re asking me to do the same. Not because it’s easy. Not even because it feels good. But because it’s how Your Kingdom works.

Prayer #6:
Jesus, give me the courage to love in unfair ways. Help me bless those who curse me. Fill me with Your compassion when mine runs dry.

Today I thought about the person who hurt me the most last year. It still stings. I don’t want to pretend like it didn’t matter. But I also don’t want bitterness to chain me up. I want to be free. And I think freedom is found in that unfair, radical grace You keep showing me.

Prayer #7:
Help me forgive, God. Even if they never apologize. Even if they don’t change. Help me let go, not for them—but for You.

And help me love generously, not because I trust the other person—but because I trust You.

Maybe that’s the real root of this all. Trust. Do I trust You enough to follow You into uncomfortable places? Into unfair love? Into mercy that looks foolish?

I think I’m learning to say yes. One wobbly, messy yes at a time.

Prayer #8:
Father, thank You for loving me so well. Let my life reflect that kind of love, even when it costs me. Especially then.

Thank goodness You aren’t fair, God. Thank goodness You’re good instead.