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#FaithAndHope

Praise the Lordpraisethelord
2025-11-13

Shine Your Light (Christian Music) = Just shared: A powerful Christian melody 🎶 - - youtube.com/watch?v=lhMgnRkJIVE

Intentional Faithmhoggin@pastorhogg.net
2025-11-10

The Life That Never Ends

As the Day Ends

Scripture: John 11:25–26 – “Jesus said to her, ‘I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in Me, though he may die, he shall live. And whoever lives and believes in Me shall never die. Do you believe this?’”

Evening Meditation

As the quiet of evening settles and the day draws to a close, Jesus’ words to Martha remind us of a hope that transcends the boundaries of time. In Bethany, surrounded by sorrow and disbelief, Jesus stood beside a tomb and spoke a declaration that has echoed across centuries: “I am the resurrection and the life.” In that moment, He was not merely offering comfort to a grieving sister—He was unveiling the truth of His divine nature. He is not only the giver of life; He is life itself.

We, too, find ourselves standing beside the “tombs” of our own experience—those moments when dreams seem dead, strength is exhausted, or hope feels buried beneath disappointment. But even here, Jesus stands near and whispers the same promise. For those who believe, death—whether physical, emotional, or spiritual—is never final. The same power that raised Lazarus from the grave still moves in the hearts of believers today. The evening invites us to remember that we are never beyond the reach of resurrection. Every sunset may feel like an ending, but in Christ, it is only the prelude to another dawn.

Martha’s encounter with Jesus challenges us to examine our own faith. He asked her, “Do you believe this?”—a question that lingers still. To believe that Jesus is the resurrection and the life is to trust that even in loss, something eternal remains. As this day concludes, perhaps your heart carries burdens you can’t resolve or questions you can’t answer. The invitation tonight is to rest—not because every problem has been solved, but because you belong to the One who holds life itself in His hands. When we rest in that truth, our nights become peaceful, and our tomorrows are filled with quiet confidence.

 

Triune Prayer

To the Heavenly Father:
Father, as the day closes, I come before You with a grateful heart. You have carried me through hours of both joy and challenge. Thank You for Your constant presence that has steadied me when I felt uncertain. Tonight, I lay every concern at Your feet—the unfinished tasks, the words left unsaid, the hopes deferred. Teach me to rest in the assurance that You are sovereign over all things, weaving purpose even from what I do not understand. I thank You that Your love endures beyond the limits of my strength and that nothing in this day was wasted in Your divine plan. May Your peace settle upon me now like a soft evening breeze, calming my heart and reminding me that You are near.

To the Son:
Lord Jesus, You are the Resurrection and the Life. As night falls, I remember that Your power is greater than any fear that haunts my rest. You stood at Lazarus’s tomb and called forth life from death—do the same within me, Lord. Revive my faith where it has grown weary, renew my hope where it has dimmed, and restore my courage to believe that nothing is beyond Your reach. Forgive me for moments today when I doubted or acted out of fear. As I lay down tonight, help me to trust that the same voice that called Lazarus from the grave is still speaking life into my circumstances. May my rest tonight be a quiet act of faith, a testimony that I believe in the power of Your love to make all things new.

To the Holy Spirit:
Holy Spirit, Comforter and Sustainer, I invite You into the stillness of this evening. Quiet my racing thoughts and refresh my spirit. Breathe peace into the corners of my soul that have been stirred by worry or weariness. Teach me to listen for Your gentle whispers amid the noise of the world. Fill my dreams with reminders of Your truth—that life in Christ is eternal, unbreakable, and full of grace. Strengthen me to live tomorrow with renewed compassion and confidence, bearing witness to the hope that never dies. Wrap me in Your presence tonight, and let my rest be a reflection of Your unchanging peace.

 

Thought for the Day

No part of your life is beyond the reach of resurrection. Whatever feels buried tonight—whether a dream, a prayer, or a hope—entrust it to Jesus. The One who conquered death is still in the business of restoring life.

Thank you for your service to the Lord’s work today and every day. May your night be filled with peace, and your heart strengthened by the reminder that in Christ, life never ends.

For further reflection on this promise, visit The Gospel Coalition and read their articles on The Hope of Resurrection Life in Christ.

FEEL FREE TO COMMENT SHARE SUBSCRIBE

 

#eternalLifeInChrist #eveningDevotion #faithAndHope #resurrectionAndLife #trustInGod

Intentional Faithmhoggin@pastorhogg.net
2025-11-09

Nothing Is Wasted

Afternoon Moment

Scripture Reading: John 11:1–45
Key Verses: John 11:25–26 – “Jesus said to her, ‘I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in Me, though he may die, he shall live. And whoever lives and believes in Me shall never die. Do you believe this?’”

The middle of the day can often feel heavy. Work piles up, minds tire, and hearts grow weary. For some, the afternoon is a time of reflection—a quiet moment to catch one’s breath. It’s in moments like these that the Lord often reminds us: Nothing is wasted.

When Jesus arrived in Bethany, the situation looked hopeless. Lazarus had been dead four days. The mourning was deep, the air thick with grief. Martha met Jesus with honest pain: “Lord, if You had been here, my brother would not have died.” Her words echo through time, capturing the raw emotion of anyone who has ever wondered why God seemed to delay. Yet Jesus’ response reframed her sorrow with hope: “Your brother will rise again.”

Mary soon followed, falling at His feet with the same words. She too believed in Jesus’ power but could not yet see His plan. As tears filled her eyes, something holy happened—Jesus wept. The Son of God, knowing He would soon raise Lazarus, paused to share in their sorrow. This moment reveals one of the most comforting truths in Scripture: God is not distant from our pain. He does not rush past it. He enters into it with us.

 

When God Seems Silent

There are times when our prayers feel unanswered, when heaven seems quiet. Like Mary and Martha, we may question the timing of the Lord. But silence does not mean absence, and delay does not mean denial. Jesus waited two extra days before going to Bethany—not out of neglect, but out of divine purpose. He was preparing a greater revelation of His power and glory.

In your life, there may be situations that appear delayed—dreams that haven’t yet come to pass, prayers that linger unanswered, losses that still ache. But take heart: nothing is wasted in God’s hands. Every moment, every tear, every waiting season is part of a divine tapestry being woven for your good and His glory.

Romans 8:28 assures us, “And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God.” That verse does not promise that all things feel good, but that God will work them for good. Elisabeth Elliot once said, “Of one thing I am perfectly sure: God’s story never ends with ‘ashes.’” Even when we stand at the tomb of what we thought was lost forever, the Lord whispers, “Did I not tell you that if you believe, you will see the glory of God?”

 

The Lord of Life Steps In

At the tomb, Jesus gave a simple but startling command: “Take away the stone.” Martha hesitated—“Lord, by this time there is a bad odor.” That’s the honest hesitation of a heart still grieving. How many of us do the same? We want God’s power, but we resist when He asks us to roll away the stone of unbelief, fear, or control.

Yet when we obey, resurrection happens. Jesus cried out with authority, “Lazarus, come forth!” and the dead man walked out of the tomb, still bound in grave clothes. That image is as much spiritual as physical. Every one of us who believes in Christ has heard that same call. We have been raised from death to life, from despair to hope, from bondage to freedom.

The miracle in Bethany was not just about one man’s restoration—it was about God’s revelation. Jesus was showing the world who He truly is: the Resurrection and the Life. Death does not define Him; He defines life itself. And in Him, we discover that even the darkest chapters of our story can become testimonies of grace.

 

When You Feel Weary

Perhaps you’re reading this during a brief break in your workday. Maybe you feel worn out, carrying responsibilities that stretch you thin. Remember: your labor, your prayers, and even your tears are not wasted. God values what you do, not just in outcomes but in faithfulness. The same Lord who wept at Lazarus’ tomb sees your exhaustion and feels your strain.

In moments when you cannot see how it all fits together, choose to trust that the Lord does. The late afternoon sunlight reminds us that the day is not over—and neither is the story He’s writing in your life. The waiting, the disappointments, even the long hours of perseverance—He’s shaping them into something eternal.

Paul reminds us in 1 Corinthians 15:58, “Therefore, my beloved brethren, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that your labor in the Lord is not in vain.” Nothing done in obedience to Christ is ever wasted.

 

The Divine Economy of Grace

Elisabeth Elliot once wrote, “God never wastes His children’s pain.” That’s a truth worth pausing on this afternoon. In God’s economy, even suffering has value. He takes every hardship and transforms it into a tool of grace. The cross itself—once the world’s symbol of shame—became the instrument of salvation. If God could redeem the cross, He can redeem anything in your life.

Think of it: the tears you shed become the water that nourishes compassion. The loss you endure becomes the seed of empathy. The prayers that seem unanswered strengthen your faith for future battles. Every experience, surrendered to God, is redeemed for purpose.

Mary and Martha came to understand that what they thought was a tragedy was actually the setting for a miracle. In the end, their home became a place where resurrection had literally walked through the door. And in your life, too, God is preparing such moments—when what once looked like loss will burst forth in unexpected life.

 

A Closing Prayer

Lord, I thank You that nothing is wasted in Your hands. Every challenge I face, every burden I carry, every delay I endure—You are using it to shape me and glorify Yourself. Help me to trust Your timing, even when I don’t understand it. Teach me to believe, like Mary and Martha, that You are the Resurrection and the Life. May Your presence refresh my spirit this afternoon and renew my strength for the work still before me. Amen.

 

For further reading on faith through suffering and divine purpose, visit The Gospel Coalition and explore their reflections on God’s Glory in Our Waiting.

FEEL FREE TO COMMENT SHARE SUBSCRIBE

 

#faithAndHope #GodSSovereignty #nothingWastedWithGod #purposeInSuffering #resurrectionOfLazarus

Sofia JadeSofia3232
2025-10-30

Find comfort, hope, and inspiration in reflections on love, faith, and resilience from Jacqui DeLorenzo: jacquidelorenzo.com/blog

Praise the Lordpraisethelord
2025-10-20

With Faith Anew (Christian Music) = New Christian music to share God's love 💫 - - youtube.com/watch?v=

SpiritualKhazaanaspiritualkhazaana
2025-09-26

Inspirational Bible Verses: Uplifting Scripture for Strength, Hope, and Faith
Introduction: The Power of Inspirational Bible Verses
The Bible has been a source of inspiration, hope, and guidance for millions of people throughout history. Whether you are facing hardship, searching for purpose, or seeking encouragement, the words of scripture carry... More details… spiritualkhazaana.com/inspirat

Inspirational Bible Verses
Praise the Lordpraisethelord
2025-09-14

Light of My Journey (Christian Music) = Fresh Christian tune 🎵 to brighten your day! - - youtube.com/watch?v=mKt1RVFhoNU

SpiritualKhazaanaspiritualkhazaana
2025-09-12

Beautifully Broken: Finding Purpose in Your Imperfections
God creates beauty from brokenness. Surrender to His restoring touch each day and discover strength in Jesus. Explore 15 powerful Bible verses about brokenness and healing with daily devotional meanings. Find inspiration, comfort, and hope through Jesus’ love and restoration.
Begin your healing journey today... More details… spiritualkhazaana.com/web-stor

Beautifully Broken
Sofia JadeSofia3232
2025-09-12

Embark on a transformative journey with Jacqui DeLorenzo's inspiring books. From healing past wounds to embracing faith and resilience, her stories offer hope and strength. Start your path to healing today.

📚 Explore the collection: jacquidelorenzo.com/books

Praise the Lordpraisethelord
2025-08-30

Shine With His Light (Christian Music) = Another beautiful tune 🎵 to praise the Lord! - - youtube.com/watch?v=0zpUUsHQjTM

SpiritualKhazaanaspiritualkhazaana
2025-08-28

In the Beginning Was the Word: Exploring Divine Truth and Spiritual Wisdom
Discover the profound spiritual meaning behind “In the beginning was the Word.” Explore how the Word... More details… spiritualkhazaana.com/web-stor

In the Beginning Was the Word
christconfidencecoaching
2025-08-28

🙏✨ Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on. – Revelation 14:13

There is peace and eternal rest for those who live in the Lord. Let’s find comfort in knowing that our faith leads to eternal life with Him. 💫🕊️

Praise the Lordpraisethelord
2025-08-21

Light in the Wilderness (Christian Music) = Lift your voice 💫 with this new Christian melody! - - youtube.com/watch?v=oQRdTtqZ0c0

SpiritualKhazaanaspiritualkhazaana
2025-07-01

What Does God Look Like? : A Spiritual Journey to the Unseen
What does God look like ? This timeless question has echoed through the hearts of seekers, philosophers, and dreamers across millennia. While no image can fully capture the divine, we can explore spiritual truths that bring us closer to understanding God’s presence in our lives. More details… spiritualkhazaana.com/web-stor

What Does God Look Like?
AAsquareaasquare
2025-06-29

📖 "Say, ‘Never will we be struck except by what Allah has decreed for us; He is our protector.’ And upon Allah let the believers rely."
— Surah At-Tawbah 9:51

Let the words of the Qur'an bring peace and strength to your heart. Listen, reflect, and reconnect with your faith through our app. 🌙✨

📲 Download now: play.google.com/store/apps/det

Bryan Kingbdking71.wordpress.com@bdking71.wordpress.com
2025-05-29

When Fear Met Hope: The Birth That Changed the World

2,614 words, 14 minutes read time.

The church was quiet, the soft murmur of anticipation settling over the crowd. Pastor James stepped forward with a smile, his eyes reflecting the weight of the story to come. “Friends, tonight we have a special guest with us—Micah ben Jairus, a man who walked the dusty roads of Judea long ago and witnessed the birth of hope itself. Please welcome Micah as he shares with us a story that changed the world.” With that, Micah stood steady at the pulpit of Grace Harbor Community Church, his voice warm but heavy with memory.

Micah:

Good evening, friends. My name is Micah ben Jairus. I was born and raised in the hill country of Judea, not far from Bethlehem. I lived during a time of great change and uncertainty—a time when the mighty Roman Empire ruled over our land, and whispers of hope stirred quietly among the people.

You might ask why my words matter. I am no scholar or priest—just a simple man who lived through those times. I walked among the crowded streets and traveled with weary families. I witnessed the quiet beginnings of a story that would change the world. I listened to the shepherds’ whispers, felt the weight of kings’ footsteps, and saw the pain of a people living under the heavy hand of occupation.

It began with a decree from Caesar Augustus, the Roman emperor. A census was ordered—every man was to return to his ancestral home to be counted and taxed. My family lived near Hebron, but because my father’s family line traced back to Bethlehem, we had to make that long, difficult journey.

The roads were crowded with others like us—farmers, craftsmen, families—all moving south under the watchful eyes of Roman soldiers. The journey was harsh. Days of dust and sun, with little water and scarce food. Our feet were sore, and the weight of the trip pressed on us.

Among the many travelers, I saw a young couple moving carefully through the crowd. Joseph, a carpenter—strong and steady—walked beside Mary, who was heavy with child. They looked tired but determined, like they carried more than just their belongings. Even in the crowd’s chaos, there was something quiet and purposeful about them.

As a boy of ten, I wasn’t always paying close attention to the grown-ups’ worries. Along the way, I found company with other children traveling with their families. We played simple games to pass the long hours—chasing each other between the carts, trying to catch small lizards in the dust, or throwing stones into the dry riverbeds. Sometimes we told stories or sang songs from our villages, hoping to lift spirits as the days dragged on.

Still, the journey was hard, and the older ones often warned us to stay close. I remember stealing glances at Mary as she moved slowly, resting often. She seemed fragile, yet there was a calm strength about her. Joseph watched over her with gentle care, helping her when the road became too rough.

I didn’t know then that this young couple was carrying a secret the whole world would one day know.

When we finally reached Bethlehem, the town was bursting at the seams. Every inn was full—packed tight with travelers and families who had made the same journey for the census. There was no room for Mary and Joseph, no warm bed or quiet corner for Mary in her time of need.

My own family found no better luck. The city square was crowded with people setting up temporary shelters—small tents, makeshift lean-tos, and families gathered around fires, trying to find some comfort in the cold night air. We pitched our own tent in a patch of open ground just outside the bustle, near some rocky hills where shepherds sometimes took shelter.

Most nights, my father and I would walk out to the nearby caves—the same caves shepherds used to protect their flocks from the wind and wild animals. These caves were simple but dry, and sometimes we’d sleep there, under blankets woven by my mother’s hands.

It was hard. The air smelled of animals and earth, and the night was often pierced by the bleating of sheep and the calls of watchful shepherds.

Joseph and Mary found shelter in a stable—an open place where animals were kept safe. There, amidst the hay and the quiet breathing of animals, their child was born—Jesus.

I remember the stillness of that night, the soft sounds, and the heavy weight of hope resting quietly in a manger. The sky held a strange light that night—a star unlike any I had ever seen. But it was not the star I want you to remember first.

It’s remarkable to remember that the first to hear the news of Jesus’ birth were shepherds—poor men watching their flocks by night. In our time, we might picture shepherds as peaceful, almost poetic figures, but in those days, they were looked down upon. Considered unclean due to their constant contact with animals and their absence from temple rituals, they lived on the margins—often distrusted, rarely welcomed. Many believed they were thieves or drifters, fit for the fields but not for fellowship. It would be like today if the most important announcement imaginable was delivered not to scholars or officials, but to laborers with dirt under their nails and worn cloaks on their backs.

And yet, it was to them that heaven opened. One quiet night outside Bethlehem, the sky above these forgotten men erupted with light. A single angel appeared first, surrounded by glory too bright for words, and then came a multitude—singing, proclaiming the birth of a Savior in the city of David. “Peace on earth,” they said, “goodwill toward men.” And just as suddenly as they appeared, the sky went dark again.

The shepherds didn’t wait. They left their flocks—abandoning what little they had—and hurried into Bethlehem. I remember the square that night, filled with travelers and tents, merchants haggling over bread and shelter, children dozing on blankets, and the smell of smoke from campfires. Then came the shepherds, wide-eyed and breathless, pushing through the crowd, shouting that they had seen angels and that the Messiah had been born among us.

At first, people laughed. Some rolled their eyes. “Shepherds,” they said with a sneer. “What do they know of angels?” Others stopped to listen, unsure of what to make of it. I saw an older man clutch his walking staff and whisper a prayer beneath his breath. And the Pharisees, standing apart in their robes, crossed their arms and scoffed, muttering about blasphemy and improper witnesses. But even they looked uneasy. Because deep down, we all knew something had happened that night. The air felt different. The stars seemed too still.

The shepherds moved on, telling anyone who would listen. Their voices rang out in the narrow alleys and crowded corners of the town. They weren’t eloquent, but they were sincere—men lit by something beyond themselves. And though many dismissed them, the story took root, quiet and unstoppable, like light beneath a door.

Months later, wise men—Magi from the East—arrived, following that same star. They brought gifts worthy of a king: gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

But not everyone welcomed this new king.

Herod, the ruler appointed by Rome, was a man ruled by fear and ambition. He was known to be cunning and ruthless, a king who would stop at nothing to maintain his grip on power. Though he bore the title “King of the Jews,” many among the Jewish people did not truly see him as their rightful king. He was an outsider in their eyes—a man whose throne was held up by the might of Rome rather than by the favor of God or the people.

The people whispered stories of his cruelty, of how he had eliminated anyone who stood in his way—even members of his own family. There was a constant undercurrent of fear throughout the land, for Herod was known to be unpredictable and quick to anger. His grand building projects, like the great temple renovation in Jerusalem, impressed some, but to many, they were nothing more than attempts to legitimize his rule and mask the harshness beneath.

When the Magi came to Jerusalem asking about the newborn “King of the Jews,” Herod saw this not as news of hope, but as a direct threat to his throne. Paranoia gnawed at him—he could not allow a rival, even a child, to challenge his reign. Secretly, he summoned the wise men and demanded they find the child and report back to him. But the Magi, warned in a dream, did not return to Herod. Their silence sealed the fate of many innocent lives.

Furious and desperate to protect his power, Herod issued a brutal decree: every male child two years old and under in Bethlehem and its surrounding regions was to be killed. He wanted to be certain no rival king would rise, no matter how young or powerless.

Herod’s order unleashed a wave of terror in Bethlehem. Soldiers moved through Bethlehem under the cover of darkness, carrying out the slaughter with ruthless efficiency. They ripped baby boys from their mothers’ arms, whose desperate cries pierced the night air. Fathers who tried to protect their children were struck down without mercy, their bodies falling silently to the cold ground. Homes were broken into, and the terrified faces of families were etched forever in memory—faces frozen in horror, grief, and disbelief. The quiet streets were stained with sorrow, a terrible reminder of the cost of a king’s fear. The streets became silent except for the cries of grieving mothers and fathers. The pain was everywhere—hidden in whispered prayers, in the trembling hands of those who hid their children, and in the empty arms of those who lost theirs. Later, I heard rumors that similar horrors had touched other towns nearby, where soldiers acted with the same cruel orders, spreading fear like a dark shadow across the region. It was a confusing time. The good news of a Savior was wrapped in fear and sorrow. People struggled to believe that hope could come in the midst of such darkness.

Among the whispers, a story grew: Mary and Joseph, warned in a dream by an angel, had escaped. They slipped away from Bethlehem under the cover of night, fleeing to Egypt—a land far from Herod’s reach. It was a dangerous journey, but it was the only way to protect the child who would change everything.

That is how the King came into the world—not with trumpet blasts or royal banners, but in hardship and obscurity. He was cradled not in a palace, but in a stable, watched not by nobles, but by shepherds with calloused hands and broken sandals. He was born into a world aching with fear, into a night pierced by violence and uncertainty.

And yet… that night changed everything.

The birth of that child was not the end of the darkness, but the beginning of the light. It did not erase sorrow, but it gave sorrow a Savior. It did not silence fear, but it whispered courage into trembling hearts. Even as the cries of grieving mothers echoed through Bethlehem, even as Herod’s soldiers cast long shadows over the land, something new had begun—quietly, defiantly, eternally.

Hope had entered the world—not as an idea, but as a person.

And it was first proclaimed not in a temple or a throne room, but in an open field beneath the stars.

“Do not be afraid,” the angel said to the shepherds, as heaven split open above them. “I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all people. Today, in the city of David, a Savior has been born to you; He is Christ the Lord.” And then came the song of heaven: “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill toward men.”

The heavens could not contain the news. The glory of God was not kept for kings, but poured out on the lowly. That declaration still echoes across time—not just as a memory, but as a promise.

I did not understand it all then. I was only a boy, clinging to my father’s hand in a world too heavy for a child to carry. But as the years passed and I heard more of that man—Jesus of Nazareth—I began to see what I had witnessed. The child in the manger grew to be the man on the cross, and the man on the cross rose to become the hope of the world.

Now, many years later, I still remember the sound of the shepherds’ voices, the look in Mary’s eyes, the hush of that strange night, and the brilliance of a star that seemed to watch us all.

And I know this:

The light that came into the world that night has never gone out. It shines still—in places of pain and in hearts that ache, in quiet acts of mercy, in every soul who chooses love over fear, peace over power, hope over despair.

That night in Bethlehem was not the end of the story. It was only the beginning.

Because the Light has come—and the darkness has not overcome it.

Author’s Note

The story you just read is a work of fiction—Micah ben Jairus is not a historical figure, but a narrative lens through which we might glimpse the wonder, struggle, and hope surrounding the birth of Jesus. While the characters and dialogue are imagined, the events are based on the true story found in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke.

The birth of Christ was not a quiet tale meant only for a distant time. It was the beginning of a world-altering truth: that God stepped into history—not as a conqueror, but as a child; not with power, but with peace. In the most unlikely place, through the most unlikely people, hope was born into a dark and hurting world.

That hope is not bound to Bethlehem. It continues today—in the broken places, in silent prayers, in acts of mercy, and in every heart that still longs for light in the darkness.

If this story moved you, challenged you, or gave you something to think about, I’d love to hear from you. Feel free to leave a comment or share it with someone who might be encouraged by it.

And if you’d like to follow along for more reflections, stories, and reminders of grace—you’re warmly invited to do so.

Thank you for reading.

D. Bryan King

Sources

Disclaimer:

The views and opinions expressed in this post are solely those of the author. The information provided is based on personal research, experience, and understanding of the subject matter at the time of writing. Readers should consult relevant experts or authorities for specific guidance related to their unique situations.

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Angelic Night in Bethlehem
pacificabspacificabs
2025-04-18

A time to reflect, renew our faith, and embrace the power of love. Let’s walk together on the path of peace, spreading kindness and hope to all. Wishing you a day filled with reverence and blessings.

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✝️ Reflect. Renew. Rise.
On this Good Friday, we pause to reflect on the power of sacrifice, compassion, and hope.
May this day bring peace to your heart and clarity to your path.

From all of us at ZPONZ, wishing you a meaningful Good Friday. 💙

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We explore how to navigate life's challenges by seeking God's guidance. Remember, it's okay to stumble; what matters is turning back and striving for your best. Discover the message of love and support found in the Gospel of Luke.

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