James 1:17 – The Christian Tech-Nerd

This weekend, my heart is heavy and clear all at once.

Heavy, because I still wrestle with fear. Not the kind of fear that reveres God — the kind of fear that distrusts Him. The kind that whispers lies, not holy awe. The kind that tells me if I let go of something I love, He’ll take it and never give it back. The kind that makes God seem like a thief in the night instead of the Good Shepherd.

And yet clear — because I know better. I know Him.

I’ve walked with Him. I’ve cried in His presence. I’ve seen His hand in moments where no one else could’ve pulled me out. I’ve watched prayers come alive in real time. So why is it that when He nudges me to surrender, I panic like a child losing her favorite toy?

I’m a college graduate, living on my own, and still clinging to my childish insecurities when God’s asking me for childlike trust.

Jesus said in Matthew 18:3, “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” And children — real children — trust. They ask questions, yes. They may cry when things change, sure. But they believe their daddy will protect them, feed them, provide for them. Why can’t I?https://youtu.be/VzY6dwn3Z_U

When I look in the mirror, I see a woman who talks a lot about faith but gets nervous when faith is tested. I say God is my Provider, yet I count the cost before I obey. I say God is good, but I hesitate like He’s about to trick me. Let me be real: I still fear that giving Him everything means losing everything.

But is that who He is?

Lord, help me. Remind me You are not a manipulator. You are a Father. A good Father.

I’m ashamed to even admit this fear out loud, but David did it in the Psalms — so maybe it’s not shameful, maybe it’s human. Maybe it’s sacred space when I take my fears to the throne instead of pretending they don’t exist.

Psalm 34:4 says, “I sought the Lord, and He answered me and delivered me from all my fears.” And I feel that deep. My fears are not always from logic; they’re from wounds. Maybe from childhood. Maybe from bad theology. Maybe from control issues I haven’t even fully admitted yet.

But the fear of the Lord? Now that’s a different story.

The sacred fear of God is freeing. It snaps the chains of every other fear. It breaks idols. It brings clarity. It’s not the fear that makes me hide — it’s the kind that makes me bow.

And if I’m honest, that kind of fear feels more foreign than I want to admit. Most Christians talk about fearing God like it’s a formula to get wisdom, but few live like His majesty could make you tremble and worship at the same time. That’s what I want — not to be afraid of God, but to be in awe of Him.

Because when I fear God rightly, I don’t fear losing control. I surrender it.

When I fear God rightly, I stop clinging to my small plans and start chasing His.

When I fear God rightly, I trust that anything He asks me to lay down is either being upgraded, protected, or purified.

It’s like James 1:17 says, “Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.” That scripture hits me like a wave. He does not change. I do. My heart shifts. My feelings change. My confidence wavers. But His intentions are always love.

So when I think He’s about to “take something away” from me, what I’m really fearing is His character. And that’s not holy. That’s just me projecting my broken human trust onto a flawless, faithful God.

Forgive me, Lord. Forgive me for thinking You are like man — unpredictable, withholding, hard to please. Forgive me for doubting Your goodness just because I can’t predict Your timing.

What kind of God sends His Son to die for my sin, and then plays games with my destiny?

None. That’s not who You are.

You are consistent. You are kind. You are patient when I panic, and gentle when I wrestle. Your conviction doesn’t crush — it calls me higher. You discipline me not to destroy me but to deliver me. Hebrews 12:6 says, “The Lord disciplines the one He loves.” You only prune what You intend to grow.

So if You’re asking me to hand You the thing in my hand — the relationship, the career dream, the timeline, the idea of how things “should” be — then maybe You’re trying to free me, not hurt me.

Maybe this sacred fear is the beginning of freedom.

And maybe, just maybe, the enemy has been lying to me: telling me fear of God is scary when it’s actually safe. Telling me surrender is loss when it’s really access. Telling me God is withholding when He’s just preparing. I’m done listening to those lies.

God, here I am. I give You my trust again. With open hands. With a heart that still trembles a little, but a soul that says YES. Yes to surrender. Yes to reverence. Yes to fearing You rightly so I don’t fear anything else.

I want to live in awe of You, not anxiety.

Let the sacred fear of the Lord set me free from needing to control my life. I want to trust You like a daughter trusts her Father — with joy, not suspicion.

In Jesus’ name,
Amen.

Click here to Uplift Your Spirit with these Short Morning Prayers!

This summer has been one of those summers where the world feels like it ‘was’s sprinting past me—faster than I could even begin to process. Social media keeps changing. Relationships keep shifting. People come and go. My job feels like it demands more and more, yet gives back less. My body—this temple of the Holy Spirit—feels like it’s already starting to wear down. And still, in the midst of the chaos, the noise, the comparison, the constant “be more, do more” energy, I found myself anchored in one simple truth:

“Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.” – Hebrews 13:8

I memorized that verse when I was maybe ten. Back then it was just words. A nice saying on a Sunday school wall or written inside a greeting card. But now? At this age, with everything I’ve seen, felt, and gone through, this verse is not just a line—it’s a lifeline. A hand I hold onto when I feel like I’m drowning in the unpredictability of this life.

And I’m not just writing this to encourage myself. I’m writing this as a reminder, a challenge even, to anyone who claims the name of Jesus but is walking around like they’ve forgotten who He is. Because if we truly believe that Jesus Christ never changes, then why are so many of us walking in fear? In compromise? In anxiety, as if we’ve got no Rock to stand on?

I’m tired of sugarcoating it.
I’m tired of pretending like it’s okay that people who profess Jesus act like He’s only reliable when things are going their way. When life turns, and storms hit—and they always do—suddenly we question everything. But here’s the truth that won’t change no matter how we feel:

“For I the Lord do not change; therefore you, O children of Jacob, are not consumed.” — Malachi 3:6

That’s who He is. He doesn’t shift with the trends. He doesn’t leave when we mess up. He doesn’t grow tired of us when we’re in our feelings. We’re not consumed because His mercy remains. That alone should drive us to our knees in gratitude.

Today I had a conversation with a friend—well, maybe more like a confrontation. She’s been drifting, and I love her too much to stay silent. She said, “God just feels so far right now,” and I asked her straight up, “Did He move, or did you?” I wasn’t trying to be harsh, but I’m so done watching people trade in the unshakable for the temporary and then wonder why their life is in shambles.

We have a generation obsessed with “finding themselves,” chasing vibes, and redefining truth—but Jesus doesn’t need rebranding. He is who He has always been. He is not a trend. He is not an option. He is the Way, the Truth, and the Life (John 14:6). Period.

Personal Prayer:

Jesus, my anchor, thank You for never changing. When everything around me shifts, You remain the same. When I am inconsistent, You are faithful. When I am weak, You are strong. When my heart is confused, Your truth is clear. I repent for the times I’ve tried to find stability in things that were never meant to hold me. Remind me every single day that You are the same God who walked with Abraham, sat with the woman at the well, healed the blind, and conquered death. You are the same God who walks with me. Thank You, Lord. In Your name I pray, amen.

The truth is, consistency is rare now. Even people’s morals shift depending on the crowd they’re with. But God’s Word doesn’t change to fit in. It changes us so we no longer fit into the brokenness of this world.

“The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God will stand forever.” — Isaiah 40:8

Why do we chase what fades, when we have the eternal? Why do we keep putting our security in people who change like the weather, in trends that evaporate, in status that can disappear with one mistake? It’s a trap. And I’ve fallen into it too. But I’m learning—slowly, painfully, beautifully—that nothing satisfies like Jesus. And He is exactly who He’s always been.

Even when I questioned Him.
Even when I doubted myself.
Even when I let anxiety win.
Even when I ran.
Even when I shut everyone out.

He stayed.

“If we are faithless, He remains faithful—for He cannot deny Himself.” — 2 Timothy 2:13

It’s not just comforting—it’s confronting. Because if Jesus never changes, then my excuses fall flat. I can’t say, “God understands my sin because I’m going through a lot right now.” I can’t say, “Well, things are different now, it’s a different culture.” He’s not a passive spectator. He is holy, and He calls me to be holy too (1 Peter 1:16).

This doesn’t mean perfection. But it does mean pursuit. Pursuit of righteousness. Pursuit of truth. Pursuit of Him. Because I know who He is—and He has never changed His pursuit of me.

There’s such rest in knowing that Jesus isn’t moody. He doesn’t ghost me when I’m messy. He doesn’t roll His eyes at my prayers. He doesn’t withhold love because I didn’t perform right. No. That’s human behavior, not divine.

And when I feel overwhelmed by all that’s broken—my family, my community, the world—I remember that He’s already seen it all. And He hasn’t changed His plans.

“Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.” — James 1:17

Lord, You are the gift I don’t deserve.
You are the peace I can’t explain.
You are the strength when I can’t get up.
You are the fire that never goes out.
You are my stillness when the world spins wild.

Sometimes I worry that I’ll outgrow this faith. That someday I’ll become numb or indifferent like so many others. But then I remember—it’s not about me holding on to Him. It’s about Him holding on to me.

And He never lets go.

To anyone reading this—maybe years from now, maybe when I’m not even here anymore—if you ever feel lost, if you ever feel like you can’t trust anyone or anything… remember this:

Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.
He was enough for me.
He is enough for you.
And He will be enough, even when everything else fades.

Closing Prayer:

Father God, in a world full of instability, thank You for being the Rock I can stand on. Thank You for Your Son, Jesus, who never changes, who never fails, who never stops loving me. Give me courage to live boldly, love deeply, and speak truthfully. Help me be a reflection of Your consistency in an inconsistent world. Let me never forget what You’ve done, who You are, and that You are not finished with me yet.
In Jesus’ unchanging name, amen.

Even when the world is unrecognizable, I can recognize Him.
Even when I don’t know what tomorrow looks like—I know who holds it.
Even when I am not enough—He is.

Jesus Christ never changes. And that changes everything.

Tag: James 1:17

When Fear is Faithful

Yesterday, Today, Forever: Jesus Never Changing, Always Reigning