If you were to write your own obituary today, what would fill the page? We usually fill it with our earthly resumes, career milestones, awards, and worldly accomplishments. But when God records the passing of one of the most significant women in history, He flips the script entirely. He doesn't focus on her status or how she died; He focuses intensely on how she lived in faith. Today, we are standing at the graveside of Sarah, the mother of the promise, to find out what it really means to finish well.

We live in an "on-demand" world. We want our food fast, fast gratifications and fast internet. If we want something, we buy it. If we feel something, we express it. But in the landscape of love, haste is often a destroyer. It's like a gardener who gets impatient for spring, so they pry open the rosebuds with their fingers to make them bloom. They don't get a flower; they get a dead, torn petal. Today, we are going to look at the biblical principle of waiting, and why maintaining boundaries isn't about restriction, it's about protecting the harvest.

Have you ever had that sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that the person you love is drifting away? Maybe it wasn't a physical separation, but an emotional distance that felt like a chasm. You reach out, but they aren't there. You try to speak, but the connection is gone. In relationships, fear is often a louder emotion than love. We fear being abandoned. We fear that the reality of marriage won't match the fantasy we built in our heads. Today, we are going to look at what to do when the lights go out, and you have to find the courage to pursue love in the dark.

Imagine watching a football game where the quarterback suddenly turns around and tackles his own running back. You would scream at the TV, "What are you doing? You’re on the same team!" It sounds ridiculous, but in relationships, we do the exact same thing, all the time. When stress hits, or finances get tight, or a disagreement arises, we instinctively turn around and treat our spouse as the opponent. We try to win the argument, forgetting that if we defeat our partner, we both lose the game. Today, we are going to look at the massive shift in perspective that turns a battlefield back into a partnership.

What destroys a massive structure? We often assume it takes a hurricane, an earthquake, or a massive fire to bring something down. But often, it is something much smaller. A tiny termite can eat through the foundation of a house. A small leak can sink a great ship. In relationships, we tend to brace ourselves for the big explosions: adultery, tragedy, or betrayal. But we rarely guard against the small things. We ignore the quiet resentments or the little irritations. Yet, the Bible warns us that it is actually these small, hidden intruders that do the most damage to the fruit of love.

Do you remember that feeling in the pit of your stomach when you first started falling for someone? Every time your phone buzzed, your heart jumped. You ran because you couldn’t wait to hear their voice or even see their face. That season of relationship feels effortless. We call it the "honeymoon phase," but the Bible describes it as "Springtime." It’s a season where life is blooming, everything is fresh, and love is literally in the air. But as time goes on, many of us trade that vibrant spring for a dry summer or a frozen winter. We stop running. We stop listening. Today, we’re going to look at how to capture (or recapture) that springtime excitement.

We all want to live on the mountaintops, those moments where God feels close, victory is clear, and faith is easy. But the reality of life is that we can't stay on the summit. We have to go back down to the plain, to the emails, the laundry, the job, and the daily grind. In our spiritual lives, we often treat the descent like a disappointment, a return to the boring, ordinary grind of emails and laundry. But what if the most important part of the journey isn't the view from the top, but what you carry back down to the valley?

If you have ever hiked a steep mountain, you know that for most of the climb, you aren't looking at the scenery. You are staring at your boots, watching your step, and just trying to breathe. You don't see the beauty; you only see the struggle. But when you finally reach the summit, you lift your head. And suddenly, the view changes everything. Today, we are standing with Abraham at that breathtaking moment where he lifts his eyes from the altar and discovers that God had been working for him the entire time.

Have you ever stood on the edge of a cliff, where the wind is howling and your knees begin to shake? There is a moment on every mountain where the hiking stops and the real danger begins. It’s the point of no return. In our spiritual lives, we all reach this place. It’s that terrifying moment where good intentions must turn into concrete action, where we stop planning to obey God and actually lift the knife to do it. Today, we stand with Abraham at the scary height, the crisis of the peak.

As Christians, we love to talk about the moment of decision and victory: that instant decision where you say "yes" to God or that victory breakthrough that finally came through. But hardly anyone talks about the middle. The middle is that long, exhausting hike between the decision and victory, the promise and provision. It’s where the adrenaline has worn off and God seems incredibly quiet. If you are doing the right thing but feeling discouraged because you don't see the results yet, this devotional is for you. We are walking up the steep mountain of silence today.