Faith

The Quiet Test

/ Baylee Snelling / 1 Comment

Every time I start to feel like God isn’t there,
I remember something simple:

The teacher is always quiet during the test.

Silence doesn’t mean absence.
Sometimes it means you’re being trusted to keep going
with what you already know —
the truth you’ve learned, the faith you’ve practiced,
the strength you didn’t know you were building.

Because tests aren’t meant to feel easy.
They’re meant to reveal who you’re becoming.

Not in moments of certainty,
but in the quiet ones —
where you choose to stay faithful without being reminded why.

And maybe that’s the real work of the silence:
not to break you,
but to form something steady that lasts.

“Let endurance have its full effect, so that you may be mature and complete, lacking nothing.”
— James 1:4 (CSB)

Meet Me Where I Am

/ Baylee Snelling / 1 Comment

Lately, I’ve been learning what it means to meet myself where I am.

Not where I wish I were.
Not where I think I should be by now.
Just… here.

It’s harder than it sounds.

I’m quick to extend grace outward, but slower to offer it inward.
Quick to trust that God meets me in my weakness —
but hesitant to sit honestly with that weakness myself.

So often, I rush past the present moment.
I tell myself to be stronger, more healed, more settled.
As if becoming requires skipping over where I actually stand.

But maybe growth doesn’t start with pushing forward.
Maybe it starts with staying.

Staying long enough to acknowledge the tiredness.
The questions.
The ache that hasn’t fully lifted yet.

Meeting myself where I am doesn’t mean giving up.
It means telling the truth.
And trusting that God is already there — not waiting for a better version of me to arrive.

When I slow down enough to be honest with myself,
I find that grace doesn’t feel so far away.
It feels close.
Gentle.
Steady.

And maybe that’s the work of this season —
learning to stand where I am, without shame,
and letting God meet me there too.

“For He knows how we are formed; He remembers that we are dust.”
— Psalm 103:14 (NIV)

Where Greed Hides

/ Baylee Snelling / 1 Comment

We’ve been talking about the spiritual disciplines at church.
Last week, the conversation was about generosity.
This week, it was about greed.

And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about how the two aren’t always as separate as we like to think.

Because greed doesn’t always look like hoarding money or climbing some corporate ladder.
Sometimes it looks like holding back in quieter ways —
the kind we justify.

Like struggling to give our time.
Or hesitating to offer encouragement.
Or keeping our prayers to ourselves because we don’t want to say the wrong thing.

We tell ourselves it’s not greed.
It’s busyness.
Or insecurity.
Or boundaries.

But what if it’s more than that?
What if greed is anything that keeps us from living open-handed —
with our time, our words, our presence, our resources?

I’m realizing that greed hides in the small things.
In the moments when I pull back instead of lean in.
When I protect my own comfort instead of offering someone else mine.
When I talk myself out of giving because I don’t have “enough” — time, energy, words, wisdom.

But the truth is, if God asked me to give it,
He’s already given me enough to do it.

So maybe the better question isn’t “Am I generous?”
Maybe it’s: Where am I still holding back?
And why?

“Each of you should give what you have decided in your heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.”
— 2 Corinthians 9:7 (NIV)

Daily Bread

/ Baylee Snelling / 1 Comment

Some seasons don’t feel like forward motion.
They feel like circles.
Like prayers prayed a hundred times over.
Like showing up, again and again, to the same hard place —
with nothing to show for it but faith.

It can feel like nothing is happening.
No breakthroughs. No answers. No big, sweeping change.
Just… more waiting.
More unknown.
More of the same.

But what if the change isn’t out there?
What if it’s in you?

What if the waiting is where you’re being refined —
gently, slowly, quietly —
into someone more surrendered, more rooted, more whole?

Maybe this is what He’s teaching you:
You don’t need to see the whole map to keep walking.
You don’t need tomorrow’s provision to trust Him today.
You just need the daily bread He promised.

Not clarity for the next year.
Just courage for the next step.

You’re learning to walk by faith —
not by sight.

And that’s no small thing.

“Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.”
— Psalm 119:105 (ESV)

Behind the Box

/ Baylee Snelling / 2 Comments

I found this tucked behind a box I picked up at Costco the other day.

I was just moving through the motions of my day — nothing special, just errands and the usual rhythm. But then, there it was:

A handwritten verse in orange marker, outlined in cloud shapes:

I stood there for a second, just looking at it — like I had been smacked in the face with God’s love when I least expected it.

I looked around, wondering if someone was watching, hoping to see someone smile as they saw me find it.
I even thought about leaving it behind — maybe someone else needed the reminder more than I did.
Maybe someone who didn’t know God yet.

But then it hit me.

I was the one who needed to find it.
I was the one who needed to taste and see.
I was the one who needed that gentle reminder that God is still good… right here, in the middle of my everyday.

So I tucked it in my purse and continued on my way —
pushing the cart with little feet kicking along,
feeling the truth settle into my heart again:

Blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord.

And oh, how blessed I am.

“O taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the man that trusteth in Him.”
— Psalm 34:8 (KJV)

The Way He Sees Me

/ Baylee Snelling / 1 Comment

Sometimes I forget what a gift it is
to be seen by Jesus.

Not just noticed —
but known.

He doesn’t rush past my heartache.
He doesn’t misread my silence.
He looks right at me —
and He stays.

With compassion.
With clarity.
With that quiet strength that speaks love
even before I find the words to ask for it.

That kind of seeing changes things.

Because when I remember how gently He sees me,
I want to look at others that way too.

Not through the lens of frustration or judgment,
but through the eyes of Christ —
the One who offers endurance
and encouragement
and the kind of love that never runs out.

So that’s my prayer today:
to see people like He sees me.

With softness.
With truth.
With grace that goes first —
even when it’s hard.

Anchor Verse:
“May the God who gives endurance and encouragement give you the same attitude of mind toward each other that Christ Jesus had.”
— Romans 15:5 (NIV)

The Little Things

/ Baylee Snelling / 1 Comment

It’s in the little things.
The quiet things.
The things you don’t always think to write down.

Like playing chase around the house,
laughing so hard your sides ache.

Reading the same children’s book 15 times in a row
because that’s what love does.

Living in our jammies on cold days
with no real plans but each other.

These are the pieces I’ll miss one day.
The ordinary ones that don’t look like much —
until they’re gone.

So tonight, I’m not chasing more.
I’m just noticing what’s already here.

And giving thanks
for the beautiful, holy smallness of it all.

“Better is a little with the fear of the Lord than great treasure and trouble with it.”
Proverbs 15:16 (ESV)

The Grace of Starting Small

/ Baylee Snelling / Leave a comment

There’s something sacred about small beginnings.
Not because they feel impressive.
But because they don’t.

They’re quiet.
Hidden.
Often unnoticed by anyone but God.

He rejoices just to see the first step.
Not the outcome.
Not the moment everything finally makes sense.

Sometimes, that beginning looks like showing up even when your heart is heavy.
Sometimes, it’s choosing to hope again after a season of survival.
Sometimes, it’s a whispered prayer when you’re not sure how to believe anymore.

It’s easy to overlook these moments.
To dismiss them as too small to matter.
But God doesn’t.

He sees the healing you’re walking toward.
The courage it took just to start.
The faith it takes to try again.

So don’t rush past this beginning.
Don’t despise the slow, quiet steps.
Don’t count yourself out just because it doesn’t look like much yet.

You’re never too far gone to begin again.

God is already in it.
Cheering you on.
Calling it good.

And that’s more than enough to keep going.

“Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin.”
— Zechariah 4:10 (NLT)

His Love Endures

/ Baylee Snelling / 1 Comment


Sometimes I forget how much power lives in these simple lines.
Give thanks.
Because He is good.
Because His love doesn’t run out when mine does.
Because His faithfulness stretches further than my fear.

I don’t always feel like giving thanks — especially not in the waiting, or the weeping, or the parts of life that feel worn thin.
But even then, He’s still good.
Even then, His love still holds.

That’s what I’m remembering tonight.
Not because everything is perfect —
but because His love doesn’t depend on whether it is.

So I’ll whisper thanks into the quiet.
Not because I feel strong —
but because He stays steady.
And that’s enough for today.

Anchor Verse:
“Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good. His love endures forever.”
Psalm 136:1 (NIV)

Everybody Stop

/ Baylee Snelling / 1 Comment

Do you ever want to find a really big hill,
take a deep breath in,
and scream out,

“EVERYBODY STOP!”

Like you’re constantly getting hit from all angles
and you’ve just had it?

I get it.
And if I’m honest,
I wish I didn’t.

But here I am.
On the top of my hill.
Screaming at the top of my lungs:
“Everybody stop!!”

Because I’m just so tired.
Aren’t you?

“From the ends of the earth I call to you,
I call as my heart grows faint;
lead me to the rock that is higher than I.”
— Psalm 61:2 (NIV)