Think about the care that goes into creating something truly beautiful. A craftsman doesn’t rush through the process. Every detail matters. Every piece has a purpose. Nothing is there by accident.
That’s how we can describe God’s work in creating you.
You were a personal, thoughtful design. God was a craftsman at work, creating a masterpiece. Every gene was thoughtfully woven together. Every part was wonderfully placed. Your hair color was chosen. The color of your eyes was selected. Even the smallest details of who you are were known by your creator.
You are God’s handiwork.
You weren’t accidentally made. You weren’t generically produced on an assembly line. You were intentionally created by God, uniquely designed to fulfill a plan and purpose that only you can fulfill.
The world may try to convince you that you aren’t enough. It may point out your flaws, compare you to others, and make you question your worth. But the world doesn’t get the final word on your value.
God does.
And He sees you as His masterpiece. You are priceless in His eyes.
Dwell on that truth today. When the criticisms of the world begin to speak loudly, remember what your creator says about you. How might viewing yourself as God’s masterpiece change the way you see yourself today?
Pip: Salt, meekness, pure hearts, peacemakers — somebody has been spending quality time in the Sermon on the Mount.
Mara: That somebody is Chris Miller, writing for Get Encouraged. The posts this week move through the Beatitudes and inner character, then into mercy, grief, and peacemaking, and close out with a look at spiritual readiness.
Pip: A full sweep of the terrain. Let's start with what it actually means to live from the inside out — salt, meekness, and what's driving you.
Salt, Meekness, and the Heart That Drives You
Mara: The Beatitudes are easy to quote and hard to live. These posts press on the gap between knowing what Jesus said and actually letting it reshape how you move through an ordinary day.
Pip: The salt post anchors the whole thing. The setup is Matthew 5:13 — and the challenge Jesus puts there is direct.
Mara: The post reads it this way: "You are the salt of the earth… But what good is salt if it has lost its flavor? Can you make it salty again? It will be thrown out and trampled underfoot as worthless."
Pip: So the call isn't just to show up — it's to stay sharp. A life disconnected from Christ goes stale, and stale salt helps nobody.
Mara: The post makes that practical: sharing the love of Christ, offering kindness, encouraging the discouraged. It frames these not as grand gestures but as daily, ordinary acts that add up to a life that makes a difference.
Pip: Which connects directly to the meekness piece — because meekness gets misread as passivity, and the post on that pushes back hard.
Mara: Right. The Strength of Meekness argues that meekness is not weakness — it is, as the post puts it, strength surrendered to God. Jesus healed, fed, and welcomed, using power to lift others rather than elevate himself.
Pip: Strength you already have, redirected. That's a different ask than simply being quiet.
Mara: And What Drives Your Life pulls the lens inward. It works from Matthew 5:8 — "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God" — and asks what's actually motivating you beneath the surface, in the thoughts and motives no one else can see.
Pip: The post on lasting joy, What Are You Pursuing, puts a face on that question through Matthew the tax collector — a man who chased wealth until Jesus walked by and said two words.
Mara: "Follow me." And Matthew left the booth. The post uses his story to make the case that only hungering for Christ produces the satisfaction every other pursuit promises and can't deliver.
Pip: Character, motive, pursuit — all pointing the same direction. Which raises the question of what happens when life doesn't cooperate with good intentions.
Mourning, Mercy, and Making Peace
Mara: These posts sit with the harder Beatitudes — the ones that acknowledge pain, failure, and conflict as the actual terrain where faith gets practiced.
Pip: Finding Comfort in Grief opens with Martha and Mary at their brother's tomb, and it doesn't rush past the loss.
Mara: The post anchors on the shortest verse in Scripture: "Jesus wept." The point is that Jesus didn't dismiss their grief or tell them to stop crying — he entered it.
Pip: And that changes what the promise means: not that grief won't come, but that you won't carry it alone.
Mara: The Power of Mercy in Everyday Life makes a similar move — it starts with a workplace story. Brittany answers a furious customer call about a mistake her coworker made, and instead of deflecting blame, she responds with patience and grace.
Pip: Mercy as something you do, not just feel. The post lands on Matthew 5:7 — "Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy" — and treats that as a daily workplace, family, and community practice.
Mara: The Role of a Peacemaker extends that outward. It draws a careful line: Jesus didn't say blessed are those who avoid conflict. He said blessed are the peacemakers — people who actively build bridges when it would be easier to walk away.
Pip: Grief, mercy, peacemaking — all require showing up when it costs something. That kind of readiness doesn't happen by accident.
Staying Watchful, Day and Night
Mara: Your 24/7 Watchman takes the theme of readiness somewhere specific — Psalm 121, and the promise that the one who watches over you neither slumbers nor sleeps.
Pip: Which is either deeply comforting or a little humbling, depending on how much you've been counting on flying under the radar.
Mara: The post is a short audio episode, so the substance lives in that format — but the frame is spiritual alertness, the idea that watchfulness runs in both directions: God's toward us, and ours toward what matters.
Pip: A good note to end on. Attentiveness as a posture, not just a moment.
Mara: Salt that keeps its flavor, meekness that serves rather than shrinks, hearts oriented toward something that actually satisfies — these posts are asking the same question from different angles.
Pip: What are you actually doing with what you've been given? More of that next time.
There’s an errand I typically complete by walking to the store. Most of the time, the weather cooperates, and the walk is an enjoyable part of the trip.
A few weeks ago, it didn’t.
As I was walking home, it started to rain. At first, it was nothing more than a few drops. Then the rain intensified with each step until I found myself caught in a downpour.
As I splashed my way home, I realized how much that experience resembles life.
Most days, the sun is shining. Life is moving along just fine. But sometimes, without much warning, the rain starts falling, and occasionally, we find ourselves caught in a torrential downpour.
We can’t always control the weather, and we can’t always control the circumstances we face in life. But we can know this: God is with us through all of it.
Whether we are walking peacefully through the sunshine or running through life’s storms, the Lord is watching over us. He is beside us in the calm, and he is with us in the storm.
Psalm 121 reminds us:
“The Lord watches over you—the Lord is your shade at your right hand; the sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night. The Lord will keep you from all harm—he will watch over your life; the Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.”
We may not know when the rain will come. We may not know how long the storm will last, but we can know who is walking with us through it.
The storm may change, but God’s faithfulness never does.
Pip: Get Encouraged lives up to its name this week — Chris Miller has been quietly covering the terrain most of us are actually living in: fear, exhaustion, waiting, and the slow work of becoming something better.
Mara: Right — the posts move through trusting God when life gets hard, finding him present in the silence, and what genuine spiritual growth actually looks like. Let's start with what to do when everything falls apart at once.
Standing Firm When Life Shifts
Pip: The question underneath this whole segment is a practical one: when the phone call comes, when the diagnosis lands, when the thing you were counting on disappears — what does faithful response actually look like?
Mara: Paul's letter to the Corinthians gives a direct answer. The post draws on 1 Corinthians 16:13-14: "Be on guard. Stand firm in the faith. Be courageous. Be strong. And do everything with love."
Pip: Five instructions, and the last one is doing the most work. You can be alert and firm and courageous and still be harsh about it — Paul's point is that the how matters as much as the what.
Mara: That's exactly where the post lands. It says our strength shouldn't make us harsh, our courage shouldn't make us arrogant, and standing firm shouldn't produce bitterness. Jesus modeled all four qualities and remained compassionate in every interaction.
Pip: Fear gets its own treatment too. Finding Strength in Fear looks at David in Psalm 56 — a man whose life was genuinely in danger — and notes that he doesn't pretend the fear isn't there.
Mara: David's move is to bring the fear to God rather than let it take the wheel. And for the nights when worry simply won't let you sleep, Rest Easy, Trusting Your 24/7 Watchman for Better Sleep pulls from Psalm 121 — the God who watches over you never slumbers.
Pip: Which is a different kind of courage than gritting your teeth through it.
Mara: When Life Weighs You Down takes that further, drawing on Jeremiah 31:25: "For I have given rest to the weary and joy to the sorrowing." The point is that God doesn't respond to exhaustion by telling us to try harder — he meets us in it.
Pip: Strength as something received rather than manufactured. That reframe runs through all of these.
Mara: And it sets up a natural question — what do you do when you've been trusting and waiting and still nothing seems to move?
God Sees You in the Silence
Pip: The hardest version of waiting isn't chaos — it's silence. The question here is whether God's quiet means he's gone.
Mara: Why God's Silence Doesn't Mean He's Absent goes to Exodus 3:16, where God tells Moses: "I have been watching closely, and I am indeed concerned about you." That statement comes after generations of Israel's suffering with no visible answer.
Pip: So the silence wasn't absence — something was being worked that the people couldn't see from inside it.
Mara: The companion piece, When God Seems Absent, extends that conversation in audio form for anyone who wants to sit with the question longer. Both point the same direction: unseen doesn't mean forgotten.
Pip: From waiting on God to what grows in us while we wait — that's where we're headed next.
What Grows When We Admit We Need Help
Pip: Spiritual growth tends to get framed as accumulation — more knowledge, more discipline. These posts push back on that with a different starting point.
Mara: John's Story opens with a man who had accumulated everything and still typed one word into YouTube: hope. What he found was Matthew 5:3 — "God blesses those who are poor and realize their need for him, for the Kingdom of Heaven is theirs."
Pip: Empty hands as the actual entry point. That's a harder sell than a self-improvement plan, but it's the one that apparently worked.
Mara: The Master Gardener, Cultivating Spiritual Growth picks up the growth side — Jesus in John 15 describing God as a gardener who prunes not carelessly but purposefully, so the branch produces more. The fruit that follows, from Galatians 5, is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness — qualities that grow slowly under the gardener's hand.
Pip: Pruning and emptiness as the same gesture, really. Both are about clearing what's in the way.
Mara: Guard, stand firm, trust, rest, admit need — it's a coherent thread across everything here.
Pip: Less a checklist, more a posture. We'll see what the next batch of posts builds on top of it.
Fear has gripped many hearts. Every day, headlines remind us of problems around the world. Uncertain times, troubling news, and personal struggles can easily leave us wondering what tomorrow will bring. It’s no surprise that many people are wrestling with fear.
If that’s where you find yourself today, you’re not alone. Even some of the Bible’s greatest heroes experienced fear, and we can find much encouragement in their response.
David knew what it was like to live through frightening seasons. He faced enemies, uncertainty, and moments when his life was in danger. Yet in the middle of those circumstances, he wrote these words:
“When I am afraid, I put my trust in you. In God, whose word I praise—in God I trust and am not afraid. What can mere mortals do to me?” (Psalm 56:3-4)
There are several encouraging truths in David’s words.
First, David says, “When I am afraid…” He doesn’t pretend fear doesn’t exist. Fear is a natural human emotion. Even a man described as being after God’s own heart experienced it. Feeling afraid doesn’t mean your faith has failed. It means you’re human.
Second, notice what David does with his fear. He doesn’t allow it to control him. Instead, he brings it to God and chooses to trust Him. David reminds us that faith is not the absence of fear—it is choosing to trust God in the middle of it.
Finally, David asks, “What can mere mortals do to me?” His focus shifts away from the size of his problems and back to the greatness of his God. He remembers that God is greater than every circumstance he faces.
That same promise belongs to us today. Isaiah 41:10 says,
“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”
Fear may knock at the door of your heart, but it doesn’t have to move in. Like David, we can choose to place our trust in the One who is stronger than every uncertainty we face. The circumstances around us may not change overnight, but our confidence can remain steady because God never changes.
If fear has been weighing on your heart today, make David’s prayer your own: “When I am afraid, I will put my trust in You.” That’s not just a comforting thought—it’s a decision that can anchor your heart no matter what tomorrow brings.
If this encouragement spoke to you, please consider sharing it with someone who may need the reminder that God is bigger than their fears.
Have you ever stared at the ceiling at two in the morning because your mind simply refused to be quiet? Countless hours of sleep have been stolen by worry and anxiety. Our minds become so preoccupied that we struggle to fall asleep. Even after we finally drift off, anxious thoughts can jolt us awake in the middle of the night. Worry tries to rob us of the rest God intends for us, but Scripture offers a comforting reminder.
Psalm 121 points us to a 24/7 Watchman who never stops caring for his people. The psalmist writes, “He will not let you stumble. The one who watches over you will not slumber—indeed, he who watches over Israel never slumbers or sleeps” (Psalm 121:3-4).
Pause and let those words sink in for a moment. While you sleep, God is awake. He never closes his eyes. He never gets distracted. He never takes a break. The Lord is constantly watching over us, faithfully protecting and caring for us. Because he is always watching, we can rest.
The next time worry refuses to let you sleep or anxiety pounds on the door of your heart in the middle of the night, remember the promise of Psalm 121. You don’t have to stay awake carrying burdens that belong to God. The one who watches over you is already awake, faithfully standing guard.
Sleep peacefully tonight. Your 24/7 Watchman is on duty.
Thanks for reading! If this encouraged you, please consider sharing it with someone who needs this reminder today.
Pip: Get Encouraged is a site that does exactly what it says — and this week, Chris Miller brings the kind of writing that meets you in the middle of a hard Tuesday.
Mara: The posts cover three distinct territories: trusting God when worry and weariness set in, the kingdom impact of small and faithful acts, and — perhaps unexpectedly — Christmas joy in the middle of July.
Pip: Let's start with what to do when the weight of a hard season starts to feel bigger than anything else.
Trusting God In Worry And Weariness
Mara: The question running through this cluster of posts is a simple one: when life feels too heavy, what do we actually hold onto?
Pip: The anchor text here is Isaiah 40:28, quoted directly: "Have you never heard? Have you never understood? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of all the earth. He never grows weak or weary. No one can measure the depths of his understanding."
Mara: So the upshot is that the God who made everything has not run out of capacity for your specific problem. That's the claim — and it's a load-bearing one.
Pip: It reframes the whole equation. We measure our burdens against our own strength and lose. The post asks us to measure them against something that doesn't have a ceiling.
Mara: Finding Peace in Worry and Redirecting Negative Thoughts to Positive Reflection push this further. Philippians 4:6 gets cited — "Don't worry about anything; instead, pray about everything" — and Philippians 4:8 follows with the instruction to fix your thoughts on what is true and honorable and lovely. Prayer and intentional thinking as active redirects, not passive comfort.
Pip: Finding Patience in Difficult Times adds the honest admission that the hard season might just… keep going. David's words from Psalm 62 — "He alone is my rock and my salvation, my fortress where I will not be shaken" — are offered not as a shortcut out but as ground to stand on while you wait.
Mara: And the podcast episode When the Journey Seems Too Long carries that same thread into audio form for anyone who'd rather listen than read.
Pip: Small acts of faithfulness while waiting — that's actually a good bridge into what comes next.
Small Acts With Lasting Kingdom Impact
Mara: The tension here is one a lot of people feel quietly: does what I'm doing actually matter if no one is noticing?
Pip: The Importance of Your Role in God's Kingdom answers that directly. First Corinthians 3:7 is the spine: "So neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow."
Mara: What that means in practice is that the harvest isn't your job. Your job is the faithful act in front of you — the kind word, the small conversation, the seed planted without knowing what comes next.
Pip: And "small" is doing a lot of work here, because Small Things, Big Impact: The Power of One makes the case that Heaven's accounting looks nothing like ours.
Mara: Luke 15 is the evidence — three parables, one consistent point. A shepherd leaves ninety-nine sheep for one. A woman turns her house upside down for one coin. A father runs down the road for one returning son. The post quotes the refrain directly: "There will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents."
Pip: Heaven doesn't wait for a crowd to celebrate. That's a genuinely different standard than the one most of us are quietly measuring ourselves against.
Mara: The ripple image from that post stays with me — one act of faithfulness traveling further than you can see, like a stone dropped in still water. One conversation, one invitation, one small class taught faithfully. The post puts it plainly: when God uses you to reach one life, you've participated in something that echoes into eternity.
Pip: From the long reach of faithful acts to a joy that's also been traveling a long time — just not seasonally.
Unexpected Christmas Joy
Mara: Christmas Joy in July makes a case that sounds odd until it doesn't: the joy that arrived in Bethlehem was never meant to be seasonal.
Pip: Isaac Watts apparently knew this. The post quotes him: "Joy to the world, the Lord is come! Let earth receive her King; Let every heart prepare Him room."
Mara: Those words hold on a hot Tuesday in July the same as they do in December. Jesus is still King. His presence, the post argues, is not a winter phenomenon.
Pip: Don't wait until December to rejoice — that's the whole thing, and it lands.
Mara: A God who doesn't grow weary, a kingdom that grows through ordinary faithfulness, a joy that doesn't wait for the right season — these aren't separate ideas.
Pip: They're the same encouragement from three directions. More of that next time.
“Are we there yet?” Anyone who has traveled with children has heard this question. The excitement of reaching the destination quickly fades when the miles seem to drag on and the trip feels like it will never end. Kids aren’t the only ones who struggle with waiting. None of us enjoys standing in a long checkout line or sitting in a doctor’s waiting room. We don’t like waiting for an important phone call or wondering when an answer to prayer will come. Patience is hard.
It can be especially difficult when we are going through a season of trouble. We just want it to end! But sometimes, no matter how hard we work or how fervently we pray, the difficulty persists. The doctor’s phone call with the test results doesn’t come soon enough. We can’t escape the loneliness that weighs so heavily on our hearts. The rough patch in life seems to stretch on and on, and we begin to wonder, “Are we there yet?”
David could relate. He experienced several difficult seasons that lasted far longer than he wanted. He knew what it was like to cry out to God and wait for deliverance. Yet, as David waited and prayed, he came to this conclusion:
“Let all that I am wait quietly before God, for my hope is in him. He alone is my rock and my salvation, my fortress where I will not be shaken. My victory and honor come from God alone. He is my refuge, a rock where no enemy can reach me” (Psalm 62:5-7).
The rough times in life may come. They may last longer than we ever imagined. They may even leave us wondering if the journey will ever end, but they cannot swallow us.
The Lord is our rock when everything around us feels unstable.
He is our refuge when life becomes overwhelming.
He is our fortress when we feel under attack.
Our victory ultimately comes from him.
We may not know when the difficult season will end. We may still find ourselves asking, “Are we there yet?”
But we can wait quietly before God, knowing our hope is in him. The destination may still seem far away, but we are never alone on the journey.