by Stacey | Apr 26, 2026 | Devotionals, reflections, and encouragement
Laughter has a way of diffusing what feels overwhelming. It can soften tense moments, and it has even been shown to lower stress levels and blood pressure. If laughter is so good for us, why can it be so hard to laugh?
Verse 25 in Proverbs 31 has always been part encouragement and part challenge to me. A woman who laughs at the future? She’s not worried about it or bracing for it. She laughs. When I picture it in my mind, that’s who I want to be: a confident and carefree, joyful woman.
“Strength and dignity are her clothing, and she laughs at the time to come.”
Proverbs 31:25
Proverbs 31 is an oracle that King Lemuel’s mother taught him (v1). It’s an acrostic poem, each line beginning with a letter of the Hebrew alphabet. In it, the kind of woman worth pursuing is described. This woman represents a collection of qualities that women of God portray, but even more important than what this “woman” does is who this woman fears (v30b). She is praiseworthy because she fears the Lord.
This woman is not carefree because life is easy. She works hard. She plans. She provides. She faces real responsibility and real uncertainty. She can only laugh at the days to come because she fears the Lord and places her confidence is in Him.
Until we’ve settled in our hearts, once and for all, that God is good, that He is for us, that His plans are always better than our plans, until we understand that He sees the world and our lives with eternity in mind, prioritizing what is ultimately best for our souls, we’ll struggle to laugh.
So maybe the goal isn’t to become a woman who has it all together. Maybe it’s simply to become a woman who trusts the One who does because when our trust is in God, we don’t have to fear what’s ahead. We’re free to face the future with strength, dignity and yes, even laughter.
by Stacey | Jan 19, 2026 | Devotionals, reflections, and encouragement
My default coping strategy is to withdraw but stay busy. I fill the margins with productivity so I don’t have to sit too long with whatever is stressing me out. Laundry gets folded. Emails get answered. Projects move forward. On the surface, it looks responsible. Maybe even admirable. And to be fair, sometimes it is helpful. Staying engaged with daily life can keep stress from swallowing me whole. But I’ve learned busyness is only a temporary shelter.
Kevin has been on medical leave far longer than we ever expected. What we assumed would be a short season of uncertainty has stretched into something impossible to “power through.” And as my usual coping methods have proven to be insufficient, I’ve begun to notice how thin the line is between healthy and unhealthy coping.
Healthy and unhealthy coping strategies can look very similar from the outside. Keeping busy can be grounding or it can be avoidance. Withdrawing can create needed space or it can isolate. Staying strong can be faithful or it can quietly refuse help. For me, the warning sign is this: If my strategy helps me function but not feel, there’s probably a better way. The psalmist writes,
“When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought me joy.” (Psalm 94:19)
Consolation requires presence. It asks me not to numb or outrun my emotions, but to bring them honestly before God. Unhealthy coping numbs me; healthy coping draws me into the presence of the Lord. That presence doesn’t magically remove the stress, but it ushers in a kind of joy that can’t be explained apart from Him.
I’ve had to learn new ways to hold the unknown. Some changes have been small, like letting myself name fears out loud instead of tidying them away. Giving myself permission to rest. Sitting with God in prayer without trying to fix the outcome. Some of them are uncomfortable, like asking for help. Admitting I don’t know how this will turn out. Staying emotionally present even when I’d rather distract myself. And reminding myself that I can trust God, no matter how much my circumstances might challenge that trust. And some days, I still default to busyness. Growth rarely looks like a straight line. Paul’s words have become an anchor for me in this season:
“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.” (Philippians 4:6)
Not because prayer magically removes uncertainty, but because it keeps me connected when uncertainty remains. Because coping isn’t about escaping, it’s about staying present without being overwhelmed. Faith is able to trust without answers. I still don’t have clarity, but I’m learning to live faithfully without it. And here, right in the unknown, grace has met me.
by Stacey | Dec 19, 2025 | Devotionals, reflections, and encouragement
If this season finds you more tired than triumphant, you are not out of place. God wants to draw near. This prayer is for those suffering sorrows in a season that tells them to sing. It is a reminder that God bends low toward the hurting and His mercies come even to ruined Jerusalems.
A Christmas Prayer
O God of steadfast love and long-remembered promises,
who split the night with angel-songs,
who chose vulnerability,
strength disguised as weakness,
authority swaddled in a manger.
Bend low to me again with the same compassion that moved You to Bethlehem.
You have not forgotten Your promises.
You are tender and faithful in every hidden place.
You bring new morning mercies to a ruined Jerusalem.
Do what only You can do.
For You, Lord, have never broken a promise.
Your faithfulness has spanned generations.
You are worthy of trust; worthy of praise.
No sorrow, wrong, or longing escapes Your attention.
I remember who You are—
the gatherer of lambs,
the renewer of strength,
the lifter of the lowly,
the refuge in trouble.
So I choose praise.
Not because I feel joyful,
but because You remain unchangingly good.
Here I am, Lord.
with lifted hands and a heavy heart.
Remember me,
And lead me through by your faithful hand.
by Stacey | Nov 30, 2025 | Devotionals, reflections, and encouragement
Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Through him we have obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God.
Romans 5:1-2
Paul’s message of peace through Jesus Christ takes on special meaning during the Christmas season. As we celebrate the birth of Jesus, we remember that He came to bring peace—not just an absence of conflict or a feeling of calm; but peace that reconciles us to God.
When the angels announced Jesus’ birth to the shepherds, they declared, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!” (Luke 2:14). This is more than a sentiment of holiday cheer. God ripped open the heavens so the angels could proclaim that salvation had come.
This flesh-wrapped Deity bears the brokenness suffocating you and me. He pieces us back together with His perfection. He doesn’t always change our circumstances, but He always changes us. Christ has come, and He invites us to follow Him from the manger all the way to the cross—where a weary world can finally lay its burden down.
It’s through faith in Jesus that we are justified, meaning we are seen as righteous by God. This justification brings us into a state of peace with God.
Before Christ’s arrival, sin separated humanity from God. But on that first Christmas, God’s answer to our problem was a tiny baby born in Bethlehem. Christmas proves that God knows our greatest need. Christmas is God making a way out from under the heap of wrath poured onto all sinners. Christmas is our way through the hardships.
Through Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection, Jesus would tear down the barrier between us and God. The manger points forward to the cross, where Jesus took upon Himself the punishment for our sins and, in exchange, offered us His righteousness. Now, those who have put their faith in Him are justified—declared righteous in God’s sight. This is the true peace of Christmas: peace with God.
Celebrate the peace with God that Jesus brings. The baby wrapped in swaddling clothes is more than a symbol of hope—He was and is our peace.1
Reflection
How does Jesus’ sacrifice bring you peace with God? How does this peace affect your daily life, your interactions with others, and your perspective on challenges? This peace is a gift that transforms you, grounding you in the hope of God and empowering you to live out your faith with confidence and joy.
Prayer
Heavenly Father, thank You for the gift of peace through the Lord Jesus Christ. I am grateful for the justification that comes by faith and for the grace in which I now stand. Help me to fully grasp the depth of Your love as I reflect on Jesus’ sacrifice. Help me grow in my understanding and appreciation of the peace I have with You that came at a great cost. In Jesus’ name, I pray. Amen.
- A version of this devotional first appeared on StaceyWeeks.com December 2021.
Grab your copy at https://www.staceyweeks.com/books/season-of-wonder/
by Stacey | Oct 23, 2025 | Devotionals, reflections, and encouragement
October in Canada drifts in like a quiet sermon. Trees are ablaze with colour and release their leaves without resistance. They don’t struggle with surrender. They don’t cling to what once was; they trust the process of change.
And that, I think, is what faith looks like. A steady leaning into God’s faithfulness. It’s choosing to believe that His grip is sure even when ours falters. Because faith doesn’t mean we stop wrestling; faith threads hope through it, reminding us that even in the tension, God remains good.
We can bring God our unfinished stories—the chapters we don’t yet understand—and trust that He is still writing them toward redemption. His pen does not slip.
In the fiction I write, my characters often reach a moment when they must release what they thought they needed to make room for something far better. It’s a painful grace, that moment of open hands. And that’s what this season can teach us too.
What appears to be loss may, in truth, be the soil of renewal. Autumn isn’t an ending. Beneath the bare branches, new life is already taking root.
by Stacey | Sep 18, 2025 | Devotionals, reflections, and encouragement
I’m part of a group of women reading and discussing Dark Clouds Deep Mercy: Discovering the Grace of Lament by Mark Vroegop. There is so much about this book that I love. Here are some of my favourite quotes from the introduction and chapter one:
Pg 19 – Lament gives “permission to wrestle with sorrow instead of rushing to end it.”
Pg 21 – “Lament is how we bring our sorrow to God. Without lament, we won’t know how to process pain. Silence, bitterness, and even anger can dominate our spiritual lives instead. Without lament, we won’t know how to help people walking through sorrow. Instead, we’ll offer solutions, unhelpful comments, or impatient responses. What’s more, without this sacred song of sorrow, we’ll miss the lessons historical laments are intended to teach us. Lament is how Christians grieve.”
Pg 26 – “Lament stands in the gap between pain and promise”
Pg 36 – “Hurting people are given permission to grieve, but not aimlessly or selfishly. The biblical language of lament is able to redirect a weeping people to what is true despite the valley they are walking through.”
As I continue to dwell on this book and the passages of Scripture it is leading me to study, I remembered a bible study from years ago. I don’t remember the study itself, but I do remember one bit of homework. We were to write a psalm—a song of praise. As I remembered how much I enjoyed that process, I considered the balm it might be to a write a lament—a song of sorrow, declaring my dependance on God in a season of unknowns. Here it is.
To my God who hears, my God who answers,
attend to the cry of my heart.
My steps falter and my strength withers,
But I know You are near the broken.
Yet you feel far away.
Life trembles at every touch.
Fear sits heavy upon my chest —
fear that this burden will not lift,
fear of unwanted change,
fear that stretches into the valley where death casts its shadow.
But You, O Lord, are my help.
Draw near in my confusion.
Take hold of my wavering hand;
quiet my racing mind.
When shadows gather, keep me from sinking;
When the path is hidden, teach me to trust.
Restore what is broken.
Breathe healing into aching bones.
Awaken hope again.
You have not forgotten those who call You Father.
You do not abandon those who wait.
Because You are with me, I will lift my voice.
I will praise the One who keeps His promises,
and find in Your presence a refuge for my trembling soul.
