Matthew 9:20-22

20. Just then a woman who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years came up behind him and touched the edge of his cloak. 21. She said to herself, “If I only touch his cloak, I will be healed.”
22. Jesus turned and saw her. “Take heart,daughter,” he said, “your faith has healed you.”And the woman was healed at that moment.

Jesus,

I come to You weary, not wandering, but running.

Not strolling behind You in quiet devotion,
but pressing through the weight of sorrow,
through fear that grips my chest,
through the whispers of defeat that try to convince me that this battle is bigger than Your power.

I am not passive in this season.
I am contending.

Like the woman who fought her way through the crowd,
I am fighting through grief, uncertainty, and exhaustion…
not with fists or weapons,
but with knees bruised by prayer
and hands lifted in thanksgiving before the miracle arrives.

I confess, Lord,
this has felt like war.

Hopelessness has tried to cut me down.
Fear has lunged like a sword.
Sorrow has stalked me in the quiet moments,
telling me to sit, to accept, to brace for disappointment.

But instead…I fall to my knees.
And there, I meet You.

I thank You in advance.
Not because I see the outcome yet,
but because I know Who You are and what You can do.

I am not simply walking after God.
I am chasing freedom for my daughter.
I am running after You in the Spirit,
stretching out every ounce of faith I have left,
believing that if I can just reach You…
if I can just touch the hem of Your garment on her behalf…healing and deliverance will flow.

Jesus, I throw myself at Your throne.
Not because You are distant,
but because my heart is desperate and anchored all at once.

You called the woman in the passage “daughter”.
You spoke tenderness into her suffering.
You honored her faith.
You made her whole.

So I come to You now as a mother,
standing in the gap,
believing that Your same power, same compassion, and same authority lives on today.

I choose faith over fear.
I choose gratitude over despair.
I choose to believe that You are still turning toward those who reach for You with trembling hands and steadfast hearts.

Now I fall on my face at your feet, and take authority over my daughter’s prayers…the little prayers she prayed to you asking to be delivered…and I pray now with her in agreement and ask for her to receive what she prayed believing in Your power…and as she doubts now…I pray on for her…I carry them on her behalf… lifting her up to You…standing in the gap…using my faith where hers is lost…I take charge over her in the Spirit and grab the hem of Your garment for her now…and as I have prayed once before, “I believe, but help me with my unbelief”, so I pray that for her too…thank You for being with her…still…even as she can not see You right now…

Father…I quiet my heart Lord to hear you…

“Take heart”, You said to the woman you healed.
So I do.

I cling to You, Jesus…
not in weakness alone,
but in fierce, surrendered trust, for You are my shepherd…guide my will and my prayers…

I believe you will:

Heal.
Deliver.
Restore.

I believe.

Help me hold fast.

Amen.

“I will bless the Lord at all times; His praise shall continually be in my mouth.” Psalm 34:1

This is not a declaration I make because everything is easy.
It is a declaration I make because I know Who God is…regardless of the season I am in.

If you have heard my story, you’ll know why I have so much to be grateful for. As time passes for me though, sometimes gratitude is not always born from abundance, but from remembrance.

Like Job, I have learned that faith is not proven in comfort, but revealed in loss. In the stripping away. In the unanswered questions. In the seasons where obedience feels costly and surrender feels daily…sometimes moment by moment. Yet even there, God remains sovereign. Even there, He is present. Even there, He is so so good.

This season carries ambiguous loss and grief; grief without clean edges, and without a single event to point to. It carries sorrow in parenting, the ache of loving a child so deeply while standing in uncertainty about her future. It carries the quiet fear that creeps in when outcomes are unclear and the weight of responsibility feels heavy.

And still…I bless the Lord.

Because I refuse to forget what He has already brought me through. I can not forget.

I remember who I was before He found me.
I remember the darkness He delivered me from.
I remember the chains He broke, the doors He opened, the life He restored, the child He gave me.

I remember that He called me by name.
That He set me apart with intention.
That He did not rescue me from purpose…but for it.

I remember that Jesus still intercedes for my life before the Father.                                                   That He has conversations over my life.
That His Spirit lives within me: active, alive, guiding, strengthening.
That I have authority over darkness not because of who I am, but because of who He is.

I remember that He equips those He calls.
Even when the calling feels overwhelming.
Even when parenting stretches me beyond what I think I can give.
Even when I am learning…again and again…to release my child back into His hands. To continue to make good on my promise…to give her back to Him.

This child was never mine to possess…only to steward.
And if God used her to bring me back to Him, then I trust He will continue to use her life for His glory, and has already worked out how He will draw her to Him as well. So, I surrender her will, her future, her becoming, and her protection to the One who loves her more than I ever possibly could.

And today, I thank Him in advance…in full faith and belief of a victory already won…

I praise Him in the in-between.
I praise Him in the hard places.
I praise Him in the waiting.
I praise Him not because I understand, but because I trust.

For all things are for His glory.

And my posture must remain one of praise and surrender…heart open, spirit attentive, ready to move when the way becomes clear. Ready to follow as He guides. Ready to trust when He is silent. Ready to surrender when He says to let go…

I will bless the Lord at all times.
Not just when the outcome is good.
Not just when prayers are answered quickly.
But here.
Now.
Even in this season…and beyond.

Because He is faithful.
Because He is present.
Because He is God.

I will bless the Lord at ALL times.