When Praise Controls You and Criticism Crushes You

by Jennifer Slattery on May 7, 2026May 6, 2026

(This is taken an adapted from a piece I wrote for the Crosswalk Devotional podcast, which published on April 23, 2025. Find the full, audio version HERE.)

When someone’s approval feels life-giving, their rejection can feel soul-crushing.

Many of us understand that pain. Perhaps you grew up straining for affirmation from a parent whose love felt inconsistent or difficult to read. Maybe you’ve experienced relationships where a kind word lifted your spirits for days, but criticism or withdrawal followed and sent you spiraling into self-doubt. Or perhaps you know what it feels like to walk into certain spaces already braced for exclusion, judgment, or disappointment.

The more we attach our worth to the opinions of others, the more emotionally vulnerable we become to their changing moods, perceptions, and responses.

I speak from experience. And while I don’t want to imply healing comes as easily as flipping a mental switch, I do know it’s possible as we draw closer to Christ, receive His care, and learn to pattern our lives after His.

One thought-provoking example I’ve reflected upon numerous times comes from John 2.

This occurred near the beginning of Jesus’ earthly ministry. After performing His first recorded miracle at a wedding in Cana, He traveled to Jerusalem for Passover. There, He entered the Temple courts and found merchants and money changers crowding the area designated for Gentiles to worship. In other words, people seeking God were being hindered from approaching Him.

Jesus responded by overturning tables and driving the merchants out. Immediately, the religious leaders challenged Him: “What sign can you show us to prove your authority to do all this?” (John 2:18, NIV).

In essence, they were asking, “Who do You think You are?“

Opposition rose quickly. Yet at the same time, crowds gathered around Him, amazed by the miracles He performed. Some rejected Him while others admired Him. Some questioned Him while others believed.

Then Scripture gives us this fascinating insight: “But Jesus would not entrust himself to them, for he knew all people” (John 2:24, NIV).

Notice, Jesus didn’t withhold love or avoid relationship. In fact, He formed deep bonds with the disciples despite knowing they’d abandon Him in His darkest hour.

Jesus loved freely and compassionately, but He didn’t base His identity or worth on the ever-changing opinions of people.

He entrusted Himself fully to the Father instead.

Because human praise is fickle. The crowds that shouted “Hosanna!” on Good Friday would chant, “Crucify Him!” less than a week later. The disciples who vowed their loyalty, even if this cost them their lives, would soon abandon Him, in fear. Yet Jesus remained grounded and focused because His identity rested in the unchanging love and presence of the Father.

This allowed Him to love others, even the highly unlovely, with radical grace and compassion compassion.

He saw human weakness clearly. He understood pride, fear, self-protection, and brokenness better than we ever will. His knowledge of humanity didn’t harden Him or cause Him to self-protect. It moved Him toward the deeply flawed with mercy.

While hanging on the cross, rejected and mocked, He prayed, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing” (Luke 23:34, NIV).

Christ longs for us to experience as to experience this depth of freedom as well. He invites us to live so rooted in His love, so grounded in our identity as His beloved children, that we stop allowing others to define our worth.

That kind of security usually develops slowly, especially for those carrying wounds tied to rejection or shame. But as we walk with Christ day by day, hurt by hurt, He heals those fragile places within us. And He teaches us how to love others deeply, from a place of wholeness, of fullness, without “entrusting” our souls to their approval.

Most importantly, in Him, we find the acceptance our hearts most need.

If this post resonated with you, I encourage you to listen to the Faith Over Fear podcast episode titled “Feeling Left Out? Christ Seats You at the Table of Honor.“

Feeling Left Out? Christ Seats You at the Table of Honor – Faith Over Fear

We've probably all walked into a room and felt unseen, out of place, or excluded. Those experiences can cut deep and leave us feeling alone in the very place where everyone else seems connected with friends. In this episode, Jennifer talks with Dr. Heather Holleman to explore how powerful truths in Ephesians helps us reframes those painful experiences and related insecurities. Together, they unpack what it means to be chosen, included, and seated with Christ and how those realities speak directly into anxiety, comparison, and loneliness. Drawing from Scripture and personal story, this conversation invites listeners to move from striving for belonging to resting in the secure place they already occupy with Jesus. They also discuss the impact of the narratives we carry, what Dr. Holleman calls “shadow stories”, and how replacing those with God’s biblical truth fosters healing and transformation. Through practices like expressive writing and sharing personal “Savior stories,” listeners will discover practical ways to process pain, renew their thinking, and step into their God-given purpose. This episode ultimately shifts the focus from isolation to mission, reminding us that we are not only included in Christ but also sent to reflect Him in a world longing for connection. Resources referenced: Included in Christ: Living A New Story from Ephesians (A Bible Study) by Dr. Heather Holleman "Embracing Your True Self: Living in Your Christ-Centered Identity" Bible reading plan (on the YouVersion Bible app) Connect with Dr. Heather Holleman: On her website On Instagram On Facebook Find Jennifer Slattery: On her website Instagram Facebook Amazon Subscribe to her free newsletter Discover more Christian podcasts at lifeaudio.com and inquire about advertising opportunities at lifeaudio.com/contact-us.

Is it Okay to Question God in Our Grief- Guest post by Mabel Ninan

by Jennifer Slattery on April 23, 2026April 22, 2026

Is it OK to Question God in Our Grief?

by Mabel Ninan

(Note: This first published on 11/20/23)

I watched the news on TV in shock and horror on October 7, 2023. Hamas terrorists attacked and brutally killed Israelis in their homes and took several people, including children, as hostages. Within a few days, Israel retaliated by hunting down terrorists in Gaza through relentless airstrikes. Thousands of innocent Palestinians lost their lives, and many were displaced from their homes. After a week or so, I couldn’t take in any more information about the war. My heart was heavy. Human suffering and senseless violence drove me to my knees. But questions filled my prayers . Why didn’t God defend these children? Why didn’t He intervene or prevent this unspeakable tragedy? I was angry, confused, and frustrated.

I wonder if you ever questioned God or doubted your faith when you tried to make sense of the devastation you witnessed, whether it was violence perpetrated by evil men or destruction caused by natural disasters. Or, you may have struggled to find words to pray when you experienced great suffering or loss. You may have failed to comprehend God’s intentions and perceived inaction.

When our grief or pain becomes unbearable, we can doubt if God is really in control and if He cares about us. Sometimes, such questions can lead to more troubling questions. What kind of Christian am I if I doubt God? Is my faith weak? Am I a hypocrite for going to church and serving God while unsure of His power and goodness?

Expressing our sorrow or confusion to God is called lamenting and it is neither unholy nor un-Christian. Lamenting is a healthy and a perfectly normal way to process our pain.

It’s also biblical to pour out our raw emotions, including mourning, to Him. Almost a third of the Psalms are laments. The biblical books of Job, Jeremiah, and Lamentations contain prayers or poetic expressions of sadness and inner turmoil written by people of God. Elijah, an Old Testament prophet, became afraid and disappointed when an evil queen named Jezebel threatened to kill him and he cried out, “I’ve had enough, Lord. Take my life.” (1 Kings 19:4). His prayer reveals that even the strongest Christian can reach a point where they lose hope.

David, ancient Israel’s second king and a hero of faith, questioned God when he felt alone and betrayed, when he ran for his life, faced intense suffering, and on numerous other occasions. In Psalm 22:1-2, he wrote – “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, so far from my cries of anguish? My God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer, by night, but I find no rest.” Jesus uttered David’s words as He hung the cross, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46 NIV).

We can learn from David, Jeremiah, Job, and other biblical heroes, and from Jesus, how to articulate grief when we are hurting. The loss of a child, chronic illness, or a messy divorce, for instance, can cause unimaginable pain. Sometimes, seeing others hurt saddens us. When adversity makes us mad or causes us to wonder if God exists or listens to us, we can pour out our hearts to our Father who understands. Scripture states, “Arise, cry out in the night, as the watches of the night begin; pour out your heart like water in the presence of the Lord.” (Lamentations 2:19 NIV)

The healthy way to process our anguish is to do so in God’s presence. We can be confident that God understands our pain and won’t judge us when we express our deepest feelings to Him. God isn’t surprised by our doubts and won’t condemn us for our honesty. He sees our brokenness and comprehends our inner angst..

Lamenting doesn’t show lack of faith. Rather, we exhibit faith when we cling to God’s side even when engulfed in doubts. Lamenting at God’s feet demonstrates our dependance on Him and our confidence in His care. Lamenting reveals our hope in His promises to deliver us.

Spending time expressing our pain before His throne clarifies our view of Him and gives us perspective. His love, faithfulness, and sovereignty come into focus, prompting us to praise God. Consider David’s words, “Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.” (Ps 42:11).

As we spend more time with Him, a mysterious transaction occurs. He trades our pain for His peace. As we look to Him with tear-filled eyes, He directs our attention toward His unchanging character and promises. A flicker of faith can become a flame. Hope can return. Lamenting may not clarify all our questions, but it builds our faith, draw us closer to God, and puts us on the path toward healing and restoration.

Reflect: Are you going through a hard time right now? How can you honestly express your feelings to God?

Get to Know Mabel Ninan

Mabel Ninan is an author, speaker, and host of the podcast, Far from Home with Mabel Ninan. An immigrant from Hyderabad, India who has lived in seven cities across the U.S. in fifteen years, she navigates between cultures, feeling at home everywhere and nowhere. Her debut book, Far from Home: Discovering Your Identity as Foreigners on Earth, won the Christian Market Book Award for 2022 Christian Living Book of the Year. She has been a contributor to Guideposts’ All God’s Creatures: Daily Devotions for Animal Lovers since 2022. An award-winning writer, Mabel’s articles have appeared in Upper Room, CBN.com, LeadingHearts.com, Arise Daily, and (in)courage.me.

Mabel served in youth ministry in her church in India for more than ten years. In the U.S., she has been a leader with Bible Study Fellowship since 2012. She is currently pursuing M.A. in Theological Studies from the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary and lives in San Jose, CA, with her husband, twelve-year-old son, and a Maltese. Connect with her at mabelninan.com.

Check Out Her Latest Release, Far From Home:

In Far from Home: Discovering Your Identity as Foreigners on Earth, Mabel draws from her personal experience as an immigrant and examines the lives of biblical heroes to shed light on how we can find purpose and joy as sojourners on earth.

Let’s talk about this! What resonated or intrigued you most about Mabel’s post?

If this post resonated, you’ll receive additional encouragement in the Faith Over Fear podcast episode titled “Fighting for Your Heart When Suffering Pulls You Toward Despair“.

Feeling Left Out? Christ Seats You at the Table of Honor – Faith Over Fear

Increasing Peace in Stressful Moments

by Jennifer Slattery on April 16, 2026April 15, 2026

I’m learning a lot about regulating my nervous system and recovering from stress.

Yesterday, we had an emergency during which I literally lost my mind.

Prior, Bean, our fur baby, and I were enjoying a lovely spring morning, popping in and out, me to work and her to chew sticks and sniff the air. Walking back inside, I noticed the azaleas I’d recently purchased had fallen off the porch. As I got closer, what I saw immediately raised concern. The plant was lying on the ground, out of the pot, leaves, branches, and buds gone, nothing left but a stump of roots.

I ran into the house to Google and discovered this plant is highly toxic to dogs.

Not knowing how much she’d eaten or how long it had been in her system, I felt sick to my stomach and lightheaded.

“I’m taking her to the vet,” I told my husband, rushing to get Bean leashed and out the door.

I called her doctor while driving, a bit fast and reckless, fearing she might die before I got there. It didn’t help that our AC is broken, it was above 90 degrees, and our pup showed signs of distress, likely related to the heat.

Praise God, she’s okay. Now, 24 hours later, she’s doing well. They purged her stomach and found nothing but yard debris, no trace of azaleas, and sent us home with medicine to soothe her upset stomach.

Needless to say, I wasn’t the only one shaken by that event.

My poor Bean, unable to understand what was happening and highly attuned to my dysregulated emotions, was terrified, whisked into the car, handed off to strangers, rushed to the back, given medicine that made her throw up, and a shot of fluids, all without mom nearby.

Once home, she spent the rest of the day and evening snuggled close to me, her source of comfort and security. She slept between my husband and me all night, and this morning, retreated under the bed, her safe space, until shortly before nine, well beyond when she’s normally up and asking to go out.

After some research, I learned her behavior was her way of recalibrating after stress, because her nervous system needed time to recover.

And I wondered…

How often do I do that?

How often do I pause to recognize the mental and emotional toll something created and intentionally allow myself to recover, whether that’s reading, doing something creative, or, most importantly, drawing near to Christ?

He is my safe place, my strong tower, and my greatest source of peace.

Scripture reminds us, “The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge” (Psalm 18:2).

I know this intellectually, so why am I often so quick to push through stress and anxiety?

Actually, I know the reason.

Somewhere along the line, I believed the lie that productivity matters more than the health of my soul and that ignoring intense emotions will make them go away.

But as Faith Over Fear guest and therapist Kristin Faith Evans shared in Tuesday’s podcast episode, stress builds, and if it’s not processed, it can begin to rewire our brains, to our detriment.

Looking back on one of the most painful and unsettling times in my adult life, when I developed debilitating insomnia, I can see how my failure to pause, breathe, and recalibrate only compounded my overwhelm.

I kept pushing forward, thinking that was strength, when what I needed was restoration.

Granted, I don’t have time to take a tropical vacation every time I get stuck in traffic, receive an unexpected deadline, or face a problem.

But I can pause and breathe, intentionally turning my attention to the Lord and making space for His peace to steady my heart.

How do you normally decompress from difficult situations?

How might regularly practicing calming techniques, especially when something feels destabilizing, help increase your peace and protect your focus?

If you’re interested in some quick and easy calming exercises you can practice when stress begins to climb, whether you’re driving in rush hour traffic, in the middle of a work meeting, or wanting a reset at the end of an overwhelming day, make sure to check out my cohost Carol’s conversation with therapist Kristin Faith Evans in the Faith Over Fear podcast episode titled “Managing Anxiety with Christ and Practical Tools”

And may you sense God’s calming presence the next time anxiety hits.

Feeling Left Out? Christ Seats You at the Table of Honor – Faith Over Fear

Trusting God in Situations You Can’t Fix

by Jennifer Slattery on April 9, 2026April 9, 2026

Sometimes trust feels risky. It often feels challenging, at least for me.

I’ve always found coming up with ideas easy—ways to love people well, ways to reflect Christ, ways to make an impact. It’s the follow through trips me. been follow-through.

Because living out our faith—especially in hard, uncomfortable spaces—requires something deeper than grit and determination. It calls for a steady reliance on Christ, not on outcomes we can predict or control.

Unfortunately, there’ve been seasons when fear and self-protection hindered my obedience. I gravitated toward what felt manageable and “safe. Friendly conversations, familiar people, environments where I could anticipate how things might unfold. Serving Jesus from behind a screen felt far less costly than stepping into the complexity of real, hurting lives.

But over time, I’ve learned that retreat slowly weakens my faith.

Supernatural strength grows within us when we follow Jesus into places where we’re desperate for His help. In those spaces our own strength and words feel insufficient. That’s where our awareness of our need for Christ leads us to dependence.

I saw this clearly when my husband and I opened our home to a hurting teenager. Her pain ran deep—far deeper than anything I could fix. Night after night, I listened as she shared her story, aware of how little I could actually change.

Sometimes this felt overwhelming, and I wanted to protect my heart from anxiety and pain. But God didn’t ask me to fix her situation. He invited me to stand with her in it. To simply remain present.

And in that messy, stretching, and often uncomfortable place, I experienced Christ in a powerful and deeply comforting way.

In moments when I didn’t know what to say, He gave me the right words. When I felt overwhelmed by my weakness, He sustained me with His strength. In this, He reminded me of an important truth God initially spoke to me, through a pastor, when my marriage was floundering: sometimes things get harder before they get better, but that doesn’t mean God isn’t working.

Because He is always working for our good and His glory (Rom. 8:28).

Jesus described Himself as the Good Shepherd, thereby declaring Himself as the One who leads, protects, and remains with us, His sheep. He doesn’t leave us alone in hard places, our pain or fear. He goes before us, walks beside us, and sustains us when we feel weary and the road ahead steep and clouded with fog.

When we trust that He’s carrying us, our burden feels a little lighter, the path ahead a tad clearer, and our souls bolstered by His faith-bolstering grace.

The discomfort, uncertainty, and emotional weight we long to avoid often becomes the very place where our faith grows most. Not immediately or without struggle, but through repeated moments of choosing to trust when He doesn’t provide the clarity we seek.

That season with that teenager stretched me more than I expected. Yet through it, I encountered God in ways that dramatically deepened my faith. I saw more clearly how He cares, guides, and remains present in situations that feel unresolved and maybe even unresolvable.

When you sense God nudging you toward something difficult—a conversation you’d rather avoid, a person whose pain feels overwhelming, a step of obedience that stretches your comfort—pause, turn to God, lean on Him, and receive all the blessings your soul needs to take that next right step.

Because of Jesus and our relationship with Him, we don’t have to figure everything out. We simply need to fix our spiritual eyes on Him and follow however He leads

Because the Lord won’t abandon you in your stress, overwhelm or insufficiency. Instead, He meets you in it to transform you through it.

With time, as you trust Him to lead you well, a quiet confidence forms in your growing awareness that He is faithful, present, and at work in ways far beyond what you can see.

If you’re presently in a difficult season and in need of hope, catch my conversation with author and YouTuber Kirby Kelly in the Faith Over Fear podcast episode titled, “An Unshakable Hope to Steady Your Anxious and Hurting Soul”. Find it HERE.

Feeling Left Out? Christ Seats You at the Table of Honor – Faith Over Fear

When You Need More Than Answers

by Jennifer Slattery on April 2, 2026April 1, 2026

When I’m frightened or weighed down by sorrow, what I need most isn’t a quick solution or changed circumstances. I need God’s presence.

When I’ve reacted in ways I regret, I long to feel His love again. When others wound, reject, or betray me, I ache to know I’m not alone. And when life presses in from every side, leaving me unsure of what comes next, I need God’s immovable, personal guidance, gently whispered in my soul.

In those seasons, time with Jesus isn’t something I check off a list. It becomes my lifeline.

I imagine that’s where David found himself when he wrote Psalm 143. Scripture doesn’t tell us the exact situation behind his words, but his prayer reveals deep anguish. He speaks of enemies pursuing him, feeling crushed to the ground, and dwelling in darkness. His spirit felt faint and his heart dismayed.

He doesn’t minimize his pain or cover his hurts behind a forced hallelujah. He brings his distress directly to God, unfiltered. And while he does ask for help, he most longs for connection with the Almighty.

In the middle of his desperation, he prayed, “Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you. Show me the way I should go, for to you I entrust my life” (Psalm 143:8, NIV).

We know David understood God’s love. He wrote of it often, calling it unfailing, steadfast, and something that reached to the heavens. Yet in this moment, he wanted–needed–a fresh experience of that love.

Isn’t that what we all need?

Dr. Curt Thompson, a Christian psychiatrist, speaks about our ongoing need to feel seen and soothed. He once said the human brain can endure hard things for a long time—so long as it doesn’t do them alone. That resonates deeply, because it aligns with what Scripture reveals about God’s heart. He meets us in our pain and carries us through it.

David shows us what it looks like to anchor ourselves in that truth. In the middle of his distress, he intentionally remembers. “I remember the days of long ago; I meditate on all your works.” He looks back on God’s faithfulness—His power, provision, and care.

Presumably, he thought of how God delivered Israel from slavery, parted the Red Sea, and provided in the wilderness. Perhaps he also recalled more personal moments—like the day he faced Goliath with nothing but a sling and a quiet confidence in the Lord.

Those memory strengthened his pathway to trust.

And from that place, David reached for God again. With urgency. Like dry ground desperate for rain, he longed to sense the presence of God.

The apostle Paul recorded similar thoughts in Ephesians 3. He asked the Lord to help believers would grasp the vastness of Christ’s love and be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. His words show a progression: rooted in love, growing in understanding, filled with Christ’s presence.

That’s what I long for as well—especially in hard seasons.

Not simply answers or an immediate escape from today’s problems. But a deeper awareness of God with me.

When we experience that, truly experience it, everything changes.

We are changed. In and by His love.

Feeling Left Out? Christ Seats You at the Table of Honor – Faith Over Fear

Trusting God Through Wilderness Seasons – Guest Post by Cassandra Armstrong

by Jennifer Slattery on March 19, 2026March 19, 2026

When you feel like someone dropped you in the middle of an endless desert and you’re not sure which direction to go or if you’ll ever reach a water source, look up, maintain hope, and keep stepping because God won’t abandon you now, or ever.

Thanks to my guest today for this powerful reminder.

Trusting God Through the Wilderness Seasons

A Guest Post by Cassandra Armstrong

In many seasons, my faith has felt less like a refuge and more like a path I was lost on.

I loved God and grew up with faith in Christ. I prayed, read Scripture, and went to church. From the outside, my life looked steady. But underneath that fragile faith, quiet anxiety lingered. Fears of the unknown and my lack of control whispered that grief and stress might never improve. Sometimes I wondered if God was silent because I had missed something, or if the heaviness I felt was simply the world revealing itself as it truly was.

Doubt rarely arrives loudly. It settles in quietly, disguising itself as exhaustion while prayers feel unanswered. Seasons like that feel like a wilderness—places where it becomes difficult to see where God is leading and every step forward requires trust.

Recently, my family and I stepped into one of those wilderness seasons.

During the winter storms sweeping across much of the United States, we felt a little overconfident in the snowy mountains of Maine. My husband, children, and I spent the weekend traveling between Vermont, New Hampshire, and Maine for a hockey tournament, a gymnastics meet, and the long drive home. The roads were treacherous, a reminder of how little control we truly have.

When we finally arrived home, we stepped into a freezing house.

We had run out of oil. Pipes had frozen, and one had burst in the laundry room. The washer was damaged from frozen hoses. The bathroom pipes were frozen, and a switch in the dining room had stopped working.

As Mainers, we usually prepare for these kinds of problems. But facing them all at once felt overwhelming.

My husband worked through the list while the oil was delivered, but the boiler refused to start. The filter needed replacing. In the process, oil spilled across the cellar floor. The next day our son told us the toilet had overflowed, and water backed up through the shower and sink drains.

Financially, we were already stretched thin between travel, winter heating costs, and a slow season for contracts in our business.

That night my husband and I lay awake until nearly five in the morning, staring at the ceiling and wondering how we were going to manage it all.

Eventually he reached for my hand and began to pray.

He thanked the Lord for our blessings and asked for guidance through this season of strain and uncertainty.

As we prayed, I was reminded that we’ve walked through wilderness seasons before. Together we’ve lost a child. We lost my mother. We’ve been fired from jobs. We watched our daughter battle leukemia and helped our son through difficult seasons of his own.

Those experiences taught us something important: God doesn’t promise that we’ll avoid the wilderness. But He does promise to meet us there.

In Exodus 16, the Israelites found themselves in a wilderness with no clear way forward. After their rescue from slavery, fear took hold when food ran out and the future felt uncertain. Yet God met them there with manna—daily bread that taught them to trust Him one day at a time.

Our wilderness seasons may look different. They may come through grief, financial strain, uncertainty, or the accumulation of everyday hardships. But the lesson remains the same.

God often meets us in the wilderness by teaching us to trust Him for today.

The morning after we prayed together, we woke with a little more clarity. Instead of trying to solve everything at once, we began addressing each problem one step at a time.

The toilet still isn’t fixed. But we have heat and hot water.

For now, that’s enough.

Jesus reminds us in Matthew 6:34:

“So don’t worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring its own worries. Today’s trouble is enough for today” (NLT).

When we trust God with today, we discover that His presence and provision are enough to carry us through any wilderness season.

If this resonated with you, you might also enjoy this podcast episode titled, “How God Brings Good Through Wilderness Seasons.”

Get to Know Cassandra Armstrong:

Cassandra is the author of Growth in the Grief and The Grit and Grace Column. She is also published in Arise Daily, Snark and Sensibility, and Heart of Hospitality Magazine. She is a wife, mother, writer, U.S. Navy veteran, cybersecurity business-owner, podcaster, and doctoral student with degrees in English and business, and majors in strategic leadership and technology management. Her current research focuses on servant leadership and leader-member exchange within strategic leadership. She is the mother of four children and lives on her homestead in the mountains of Maine with her family, dogs, highland cow, pigs, and chickens.

Check Out Her Book, Growth in the Grief:

“Whether it is grief from guilt, grief from the finality of a relationship, or finality of life, the physical impacts and untamed thoughts are not without excruciating wisdom and need for God’s arms around us to guide each of us through the human condition of inevitable loss and guilt from sin.”

– Growth in the Grief

In this powerful memoir and devotional, Cassandra Armstrong details her voyage through some of life’s most painful battles. With raw honesty, she recounts unforgettable pain amidst death, illness, sexual assault, loss, regret, and self-blame. Through overstimulated anxiety and depression, she juggles life as a parent, spouse, daughter, sailor, student, caretaker, co-worker, and business owner-all while facing grief and tragedy. Readers are invited to journal through her personal life lessons, revealing the glory of God highlighted via navigation through spiritual gifts, grace, and the unveiling of His plan through spiritual maturity, wisdom, and unwavering faith amid suffering.

Buy it HERE.

Feeling Left Out? Christ Seats You at the Table of Honor – Faith Over Fear

When it Feels Like God Let You Down

by Jennifer Slattery on March 12, 2026March 11, 2026

Have you ever felt convinced God was leading you in a certain direction—one you spent years, maybe decades, pursuing—only to find yourself on a long, winding road heading the wrong way?

If you’ve ever chased a dream, launched a small business, or spent years building a ministry, you know how long, exhausting, and painful that journey can feel.

So much emotion and so many doubts can grow in the space between the moment you told God yes and the moment you reach your hoped-for destination.

Obstacles appear. Questions multiply. And before long, it can feel like you’re stuck on an endlessly looping road with no finish line in sight.

Perhaps that’s where you are now. Perhaps you’ve begun to wonder if you heard God correctly when you first took those timid steps—or if He spoke at all.

I’ve been there.

I understand the pain and confusion. I know the pull toward disillusionment that hits during those wilderness seasons.

But I also know the joy that comes when you wrestle through the questions and doubts and—holding tight to your floundering faith—keep walking until, eventually, God’s blessing unfolds.

In 2013, after pounding away on my keyboard hour after hour, day after day, and year after year, I finally received “the call.”

That’s publishing speak for the conversation with a publisher that ultimately leads to a contract.

I can’t tell you how many words I’d typed, conferences I’d attended, articles and blog posts I’d written, or pieces of feedback I’d received along the way. Many more than I ever anticipated when my husband bought me my first laptop and encouraged me to pursue the passion God placed in my heart.

Along the way, I started, quit, cried, and gave in to frustration more times than I can count.

I fought with God, yielded to Him, doubted Him, trusted Him—and then doubted Him yet again.

Eventually, I reached a peaceful contentment where I could honestly say that following God’s will and experiencing the peace of His presence was enough.

Ironically, everything became muddy once I received my first contract.

Then the next. And the next.

By the time book five released, I began trading my ultimate purpose—living for Christ—for an emerging desire to live for myself. That slowly morphed into people-pleasing driven by a growing fear of failure.

Then came 2016.

The year I felt like I was hiking a steep, rocky incline without making progress. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t gain traction.

Eventually things became so insurmountable that I came to a painful realization.

God wasn’t blessing the work of my hands.

He wasn’t opening doors that I could see.

In fact, it seemed as if He were slamming them shut.

I thought my career was over.

Over a decade of my life—wasted.

For a time, I lost my sense of self. My confidence in God’s goodness grew shaky.

But that was also when my faith took a major turn.

Even now, that day remains vivid in my mind.

I was in our basement, riding the exercise bike with a stack of handwritten Scripture cards propped on the dash in front of me. I recited them out of simple obedience, though none of them seemed to land.

But the Lord met me there—in my pain and discouragement—through the words of one handwritten verse I didn’t remember writing.

It was Psalm 147:5:

Great is our Lord and mighty in power;
his understanding has no limit.

I sensed God asking me,

“Do you believe this about Me? Do you believe I’m all-knowing, all-loving, all-powerful, and good?”

That moment forced me to confront something deeper than my circumstances: what I truly believed about God.

That question invited me to examine the root of my fears and frustrations—and the statements the statements they made about God.

My soul answered with a confident yes.

Yes, my Lord is all those things—and more.

My circumstances didn’t change His character or His heart.

And that truth—not my disappointment—became the foundation on which I anchored my faith.

The foundation that sustained me when He revealed His next assignment.
And the one after that.
And the one after that.

That was sixteen books, hundreds of keynotes, and countless articles ago.

Now, sitting at my desk and looking back over the disappointments and celebrations since, I can boldly proclaim:

Great is my God and mighty in power. His understanding is limitless.

So if you find yourself in that difficult space between your obedient yes and the moment your faith becomes sight, hold tight to this truth:

God has good planned for you.

He will not leave you wandering aimlessly through the wilderness forever.

He will not waste a single tear or frustrating moment.

Instead, He will use it all to fulfill the beautiful plans He crafted for you before you took your first breath—or your first timid step.

Because when the road feels long,
Great is our Lord and mighty in power.

When the path feels confusing,
His understanding has no limit.

When your faith feels fragile,
Great is our Lord and mighty in power.

And when you cannot yet see where the road leads,

His understanding has no limit.

If this resonated with you, make sure to listen to the Faith Over Fear episode titled “When Life Feels Unfair: How to Trust God When Hardship Hits”

Feeling Left Out? Christ Seats You at the Table of Honor – Faith Over Fear

A Culture of Temporary Relationships

by Jennifer Slattery on February 26, 2026February 26, 2026

(Note: This first published March 17, 2022.)

Is our culture creating the “walk-away kind”? Granted, relationships have always been tough—to form and to keep, and sometimes we do need to sever unhealthy ties, especially if a particular person routinely steals our joy, effectiveness, and peace. But with all of the “toxic people” graphics I’ve seen in my social media feed the past few years, I worry we’ve learned to label every unpleasant interaction with imperfect people as poisonous. That we’ve found ways to justify remaining planted within our comfort zones surrounded by those who tell us what we want to hear.

The other day, a friend shared recent interactions with her adult daughter. The two had issues to work through, false perceptions to correct, and misunderstandings to clear up. Initially, both parties appeared interested in seeking resolution and health, until my friend began setting boundaries and speaking truth regarding past issues. Having read the texts, I knew she’d chosen her words carefully and presented them with gentleness and love. In essence, she was inviting her daughter into something beautiful and whole. But to reach that place, they both needed the courage to be honest with themselves and with one another.

The latter comes much easier, doesn’t it? Admitting we’re broken and a bit of a mess, however, tends to prick some of our deepest insecurities and fears, primarily because few of us truly understand how to live anchored in grace. Unfortunately, most of us have had way too much experience with the converse. Living in our profoundly broken world among profoundly broken people, we’ve grown accustomed to others cutting us off, rather than inviting us close, when we fail to meet their expectations. This is especially true for those, like my friend’s daughter, who don’t know Jesus.

This should not, however, be true of you and I. Because here’s the thing—if responding to others with Christ-like love came easily, such interactions wouldn’t leave our watching world confounded. Yet, Jesus, the One who laid His life down so you and I might live, stated without any disclaimers, that others would know us by our love. True, healthy, honest, and growing love.

The type that takes work, humility, incredible bravery, and perseverance.

In Acts 2:1, the Bible says the first century Christ followers “devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer” (NIV).

This passage may read familiar to you. It did to me, only this morning one word I’d previously skimmed over grabbed my attention. These men and women devoted themselves to one another and growing in Christ. Theirs weren’t casual interactions they engaged in when convenient or conversations felt comfortable. They remained steadfast and diligent, persevering with “intense effort” and at times “despite difficulty.”

No doubt because there were many times when it would’ve been much easier to walk away. Just as it will be for me and you.

We will often find it easier to:

Self-protect and isolate than to deepen our relationships and risk getting hurt.
Feed our pride than to cultivate the humility necessary to break down barriers, resolve conflicts, and heal hurts.
Hide behind our well-rehearsed, cheery Sunday morning smiles and slogans than to allow others to see our imperfections.
Attack rather than receive, defend rather than hear, and isolate rather than grow.

But none of those behaviors will bring the relationship depth our souls crave. To the contrary. When we choose to live like the world, we tend to find ourselves in the same lonely and fearful places into which everyone else has fallen. We begin to experience the “beyond-expectations” life Christ promised, however, when we push past the fears and sinful tendencies that keep us in bondage to boldly seek Jesus, His people, and His ways.

Let’s talk about this. When have you experienced determined, steadfast love? To whom might God be calling you to show that type of love? Share your thoughts with us in the comments below, because we can all encourage and learn from one another.

If this resonated with you, you’ll find this recent Faith Over Fear podcast episode helpful: “Why ‘Being Nice’ is Killing You: Biblical Boundaries for the People Pleaser” with author and speaker Jennifer Renee Watson.

Feeling Left Out? Christ Seats You at the Table of Honor – Faith Over Fear

When Relational BEtrayal Challenges your Ability to trust

by Jennifer Slattery on February 19, 2026February 18, 2026

Relational betrayal is one of the most disorienting and longest-lasting wounds we can experience. I suspect most, if not all, of us know this from experience. When a caregiver uses our vulnerability against us, a friend slanders or gossips about us, or we discover that the spouse or spiritual mentor we once trusted implicitly told more lies than truth, it shatters more than our faith in that person.

It can challenge our ability to trust ourselves.

If we didn’t catch the warning signs with, say, that neighbor known for years, how can we feel confident in our perspective of that acquaintance we think might make a good friend?

This can also intensify any sense of self-loathing or condemnation we carry, particularly if our inner critic bombards us with blame.

Yesterday, I spoke with a precious, godly woman who endured—and is enduring—soul-crushing hardship related to an illness that has stolen her mobility and her strength. When her body first began failing and the doctors predicted a lifetime of disability, she consoled herself with the thought, At least I won’t be alone. At least I’ll have my husband.

Isn’t that what marriage vows proclaim—in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, until death do we part?

But what happens when your spouse refuses to honor the promises they made, not because of any horrific, divorceable deed like infidelity or abuse, but rather… inconvenience? What happens when one you gave your heart to without reservation walks away—when you need them most?

That was precisely what happened to the woman I spoke with yesterday. Praise God, by the time I heard her story, He’d brought deep healing to her soul and a healthy relationship with a much more honorable man. But while I celebrated the joy I saw in her eyes as she shared all the Lord had done, I doubt her journey to her “happily ever after” was anxiety- or pain-free.

I imagine she spent many nights wrestling with her past, herself, and maybe also her Savior who allowed her previous betrayal. maybe, at times, she still does.

Perhaps you can relate. Maybe you grew up in a home where caregivers exploited your weaknesses, mocked your tears, and responded to your desperate cries for help with contempt. Or you learned that a friend who seemed so kind and supportive used you for personal gain. Or that the supervisor you trusted to advocate for you blamed you for their mistake.

Now you don’t know who to trust—and you doubt yourself most of all.

I wonder if David, ancient Israel’s second king, ever felt this way. As a youth, he courageously and sacrificially served his predecessor, a man named Saul, and received homicidal malice in return. He defended an entire town, only to have them turn on him, knowing their betrayal could lead to David’s death. Then, years later, his son—whom he deeply loved—sought to kill him to usurp the throne. And while, admittedly, David wasn’t the wisest or most honorable father, that still had to sting.

Perhaps, in fact, that made the betrayal hurt all the more by convincing him he deserved it.

He could have become bitter and spent the remainder of his life in isolation, or fueled by a toxic desire to get even. Yet that’s not what happened. Instead, he is forever memorialized in Scripture as a man after God’s own heart.

Based on his prayers recorded in the Psalms, he reached that place of maturity and intimacy with the Lord the same way the woman I spoke with did—by turning to Him in his pain, processing every tear and gut-wrenching emotion with God, receiving His comfort, and routinely anchoring his soul in truth.

I want to get better at following those steps, regardless of how long that takes. I want to react less in the moment, process more with Christ, and wait on Him to heal and guide my soul. When I’m tempted to lash out, withdraw, or move through life with some level of self-imposed isolation, I want to seek God’s heart and strength instead.

I want to routinely, and increasingly, accept my Father’s invitation in Psalm 55:2:

Cast your cares on the Lord and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous be shaken (NIV).

Otherwise, I fear I’ll become the betrayer and wound myself for far longer—and with farther-reaching results—than my initial offender ever could.

I don’t want to downplay poor behavior or ignorantly invite harm. But neither do I want to block my soul from experiencing all the good God has in store for my tomorrows by forever expecting a repeat of yesterday’s pain.

***

If this post resonated with you, and you’re looking for more insight and encouragement related to building healthy and support relationships, make sure to check out my cohost Carol’s conversation with Faith Over Fear guest Becky Harling in the episode titled, “How to Find Godly Friends When You Don’t Know Who to Trust.“