Dear Little Girl, You Don’t Have to Perform for God

There are mornings when the chair feels sacred.

Coffee gets cold beside you. Your Bible is open. The house is quiet. You write and pray and somehow an hour disappears because you have so much to say to God—and somehow, in the saying, you begin to hear Him too.

And then there are mornings like today.

The alarm has already gone off too many times. Your body is tired. The calendar is full. There are people who need you, work that isn't finished, texts waiting for answers, and approximately seventeen things running through your head before your feet even hit the floor.

And somewhere in the middle of all of that, you can accidentally turn time with God into one more thing you're failing at.

I didn't pray long enough.

I barely read my Bible.

I didn't journal enough.

I didn't have some profound revelation.

I was distracted the entire time.

And suddenly, even quiet time has become a performance metric.

Dear Little Girl, I don't think that's what He wants.

I don't think God is sitting across from you with a stopwatch.

I don't think He's counting pages.

I don't think He's measuring the length of your prayers or grading the depth of what you wrote in your journal.

The Journal that changed my life….

I think He wants you.

That's it.

The you who sometimes has hours.

And the you who sometimes has five minutes.

The you who arrives peaceful and expectant.

And the you who drops into the chair already overwhelmed and says,

“Hi God. Crazy day. Love you. Come with me.”

Maybe that's the whole prayer.

And maybe that's enough.

Because relationship isn't measured by the length of the conversation.

Think about the people you love most. Some days you sit across the table and talk for hours. You tell stories. You cry. You laugh. You work through the hard things.

Other days it's a kiss on the cheek as someone runs out the door.

Love you. Be safe. Call me.

The brevity doesn't make the relationship less real.

Love was already there.

I think sometimes we forget that with God.

We can turn prayer into something we accomplish instead of Someone we walk with.

Jesus certainly withdrew to quiet places to pray. He showed us the importance of getting away, becoming still, and being with the Father.

But He didn't leave the Father behind when He left the quiet place.

He carried that relationship into the crowds.

Into meals.

Into interruptions.

Into long walks.

Into healing.

Into work.

Into exhaustion.

Maybe that's what I'm learning in these chairs.

The chair isn't the relationship.

The chair is where I remember the relationship.

And then I get up.

I teach the class.

These precious Girl Scouts earned their dance and friendship badge!

I answer the phone.

I drive the kid.

I make the dinner.

I tend to the body God gave me.

I do the next thing in front of me.

And God comes too.

There will be mornings when I have pages and pages to give Him.

There will be mornings when I have tears.

There will be mornings when I have questions.

And there will apparently be mornings when all I've got is:

Hi. I'm here. I love You. Help.

Maybe spiritual maturity isn't becoming better at performing quiet time.

Maybe it's becoming better at returning.

Returning when you're distracted.

Returning when you're tired.

Returning when you don't have anything profound to say.

Returning when yesterday wasn't your finest.

Returning even when all you have is a few minutes and a cup of coffee.

Because He was never asking for a performance.

He was asking for your presence.

And Dear Little Girl, you don't have to earn the presence of a God who has already promised you His.

So if today is one of those days, close the Bible when you need to.

Finish the coffee.

Get up from the chair.

And say:

“Come with me.”

Because He will.

And sometimes, that may be the most honest prayer you pray all day.

Love,
Worthy

Dear Little Girl…Put Down the Bricks

Dear Little Girl,

You've always wanted to get it right.

To make sure everyone is okay.
To keep the peace.
To solve the problem before it becomes a crisis.
To build something strong enough that nothing can fall apart.

So you pick up another brick.

A brick of responsibility.
A brick of worry.
A brick of control.
A brick of "what if."

And before you know it, you're carrying a tower God never asked you to build.

In Genesis, the people of Babel gathered with one goal: to build a tower high enough to secure their future and make a name for themselves.

Brick by brick, they trusted their own plans more than God's purpose.

But then we reach Pentecost.

Again, people gathered.
Again, many languages.
Again, uncertainty about what would come next.

But this time, they didn't build.

They waited.

They prayed.

They trusted.

And when the Spirit moved, what human effort could never accomplish, God did.

Do you see the difference, Little Girl?

One group tried to force the future.

The other trusted God with it.

Maybe that's the invitation for you too.

In your parenting.
In your marriage.
In your healing.
In your business.
In the questions you keep carrying around long after you've handed them to God.

Put down the bricks.

You don't have to manage every outcome.
You don't have to fix every problem.
You don't have to carry responsibilities that belong to God.

You don't have to build the tower.

You simply have to stay close to the One who already sees the whole picture.

The same Spirit who filled that upper room is alive and at work today.

He's not asking you to strive harder.

He's asking you to trust deeper.

So breathe.

Put down the bricks.

Step away from the tower.

And listen for the whisper.

You are loved.
You are seen.
And you never had to build the tower to prove your worth.

Love,

Your Older, Wiser Self

(The one still learning to put down the bricks too.)

Dear Little Girl…You Don’t Have To Chase God

Dear Little Girl,

The busy season is ending.

The performances have happened.
The schedules are shifting.
The deadlines that felt so urgent are beginning to loosen their grip.

And yet...

You still find yourself carrying things.

The questions.
The worries.
The hopes you have for people you love.

You thought peace would arrive when life finally settled down.

But peace was never waiting on a clear calendar.

Peace has always been a Person.

You keep thinking you'll meet God in the next season.

After the trip.
After the decision.
After the answer arrives.
After everyone is okay.

But what if He wants to meet you here?

Not in the finished version of the story.

Not after you've figured it out.

Here.

In the ordinary summer morning.
In the quiet cup of coffee.
In the walk around the neighborhood.
In the empty chair waiting for you to sit down.

You don't have to create a spiritual breakthrough.

You don't have to chase a feeling.

You don't have to prove your faithfulness.

Simply show up.

The same God who met Jacob while he was running.
The same God who met Hagar in the wilderness.
The same God who met the disciples in their fear.

He still meets people right where they are.

And He will meet you too.

Not because you've earned it.

Not because you've finally gotten everything right.

But because He loves being with you.

So take a breath today.

Let the pressure leave your shoulders.

You do not have to force the next chapter.

You only have to take the next step.

God is already there.

Waiting.

Love,
God

Dear Little Girl…He Trusts You With His Sheep

Dear Little Girl,

You’re going to make mistakes.

You’ll say yes when you should’ve said no.
You’ll lose patience.
You’ll look back and wish you slowed down.
You’ll second guess yourself and wonder if you’re really equipped for all of this.

Motherhood.
Marriage.
Leadership.
People trusting you with tender things.

But listen closely…

He knew all of that before He ever chose you.

And He still trusted you.

To raise those boys.
To love people well.
To teach.
To nurture.
To lead.
To shepherd hearts.

You were never chosen because you would do it perfectly.

You were chosen because you would keep showing up with love.

Yes, there will be hard conversations.
There will be seasons where your heart aches watching your babies grow faster than you’re ready for.
There will be tension, hormones, fear, unknowns, and late-night Google searches trying to make sense of it all.

But you are not doing this alone.

You sit with the Shepherd.

And He is guiding you as you guide them.

You do not need to have all the answers.
You do not need to carry every outcome.
You do not need to parent from fear.

You simply need to stay close enough to hear His voice.

Because women were never created to be small.

Women were trusted to carry life.
To nurture faith.
To show up first at the empty tomb.
To carry hope back into the world.

And you, Little Girl, are still being trusted too.

Even when your voice shakes.
Even when you’re uncertain.
Even when you wish you were doing better.

You are still the one He chose for this season.
For these people.
For this life.

So breathe.

Sit in the chair again.
Open your heart again.
Ask again.
Trust again.

He will speak.

He always does.

🩷

Dear Little Girl…You Are Allowed to Receive

Dear Little Girl,

Maybe May swept you away too.

The schedules.
The people.
The performances.
The caregiving.
The constant doing.

Maybe you’ve been so busy surviving the season that you forgot you are allowed to be cared for too.

There is a lot on your shoulders right now.
Not in a way that is breaking you…
but in a way that feels heavy.

Your home has felt different lately.
The atmosphere has shifted.
There’s tension you can feel but not always name.

And yet…
you’re still showing up.

With compassion.
With strength.
With boundaries.

That matters more than you realize.

You are doing something you didn’t always know how to do.

You are loving…
Without losing yourself.

You are helping…
Without taking on what isn’t yours.

You are staying open…
Without abandoning your own safety.

That is growth.
That is healing.
That is Me in you.

But there is something deeper stirring in your heart today.
Something quieter…
But just as important.

You’re starting to notice it.

The way you struggle to receive.
The way you shrink back when attention turns toward you.
The way you brush off affirmation…
Even when part of you longs for it.

You wonder,
“Why is this so hard for me?”

Let Me gently show you something.

Receiving is not pride.
And minimizing yourself is not humility.

When you push away affirmation…
When you downplay who you are…
When you refuse to fully receive what is true about you…

You are not being humble.

You are struggling to believe what I already say is true.

You are My creation.
My art.
My intentional design.
Nothing about you was accidental.

Your compassion.
Your strength.
Your creativity.
Your loyalty.
Your fight.
Your softness.

It all came from Me.

So when someone celebrates you…
When someone sees you…
When someone speaks truth about who you are…

They are not inflating you.

They are recognizing something I placed inside you.

And when you deflect it…
When you minimize it…
When you immediately say, “Oh, it’s nothing…”

You dim something I created to shine.

You don’t have to become boastful.
You don’t have to become someone you’re not.
You don’t have to perform or prove anything.

You simply have to receive.

Receive the compliment.
Receive the help.
Receive the love that reaches toward you.
Receive the truth:

You are worthy.

Not because of what you’ve done.
Not because of how far you’ve come.
But because you are Mine.

Even in your hardest seasons…
Even in your mistakes…
Even in the moments you would rather forget…

You were still Mine.
You were still worthy.

So today…
Let this be the beginning.

Not of becoming someone new…
But of fully accepting who you already are.

You can be strong and soft, humble and seen, grounded and celebrated, all at the same time.

And one day…
You won’t shrink when the light finds you.

You’ll stand in it.

Peacefully.
Confidently.
Without apology.

Because you finally understand…

You are not the one being glorified.
I am.
Through you.

Love,
God