For He shall give His angels charge over you, To keep you in all your ways. —Psalm 91:11 (NKJV)

While shopping at the estate sale of a woman who was moving to a retirement community, I happened upon the prettiest gold pin nestled inside yellowed tissue paper in an old, red and gold gift box. The pin was in the shape of a Christmas tree, and on its branches were small pearl ornaments. A stately rhinestone star crowned the tree.

As I waited for my sister who was still shopping, I noticed a tiny golden angel on one of the branches. “Why, there’s an angel on this pin,” I said to the white-haired lady who was hosting the sale. “Wait a minute, there are two angels. No, there are three of them!”

“Let me see,” the woman answered. She shook her head in amazement. “Why, I’ve worn that pin going on twenty years now and I’ve never noticed any angels on it.”

As I drove away, above the hushed crunch of gravel, the woman’s comment gave me pause. You see, I never noticed the presence of angels in my own life until a passel of them showed up when I failed to engage the emergency brake on my car some years back. My automobile rolled down a hill and was headed for thirty or so shoppers at a neighborhood yard sale…until those angels intervened.

Back then, I thought angels were something that graced other people’s lives, certainly not mine. Now, every time I get into my car, I ask God for His angels to protect me as I drive.

I’ll put my new angel pin on the collar of my coat. When someone admires it, I’ll point out the three hidden angels I’ve grown to adore. I’ll also share with them the promise that God will give His angels charge over them.

Thank You, thank You, thank You, dear God, for the promise of Your watchful angels.

Let him have all your worries and cares, for he is always thinking about you and watching everything that concerns you. 1 Peter 5:7 (TLB)

As my mom stepped into the grocery store one day, a man coming out paused and said, “You have the most peaceful-looking face. You look like you don’t have a care in the world.” My mom answered, “That’s because I gave them all to Jesus!”

I understand that you can’t always tell how a person feels on the inside by looking at her facial expression, but then again, sometimes you can. That man’s comment didn’t surprise me in light of recent phone conversations I’d had with my mother. But he might have been surprised to know that when I was growing up, my mother qualified as a worrier—like I tend to be today.

My dad passed away in 2016, the day before my parents’ sixty-ninth anniversary. Naturally widowhood has made some things more difficult for my mom and brought new problems and issues.

Mom often will tell me about a difficulty or even scary incident that happened, but she always ends by saying, “I just prayed about it and turned it over to the Lord. He’ll take care of it.”

Just before His crucifixion, Jesus told His disciples, “Don’t let your hearts be troubled” (John 14:1, NLT). How can we obey that in a fallen world where terrible things happen every day? Jesus gave the secret at the end of the verse: “Trust [Believe in some translations] in Me.” Do we trust Him with a scary medical diagnosis, a wayward spouse or child, a sudden job loss? If we trust Jesus to take care of everything that concerns us, then our faces will reflect that.

Faith Step: Glance at yourself in a mirror. What message does your face reflect? Peace and trust in Jesus, or stress? Recite aloud John 14:1 until you smile.

I used to think that I only needed to read the Bible and pray a little during my devotional time, but now I’m realizing that I need to actually make a commitment to DO something to put my devotional into practice. I’ve seen my own faith grow because of that.

I start by listing 5 things I’m thankful for in my Gratitude Journal, an idea I got from reading Debbie Macomber. Then I read my Bible or do a little of my Bible study, and then I end in prayer. I also try to pray throughout the day to remind me of His presence and what I learned in my quiet time that morning.

I would often believe I needed to do intense Bible study for my quiet times since so many of my friends in college were doing that, but I’ve realized since then that each of us is different, and we each have different preferences for our quiet times. I prefer to read the Bible through and only do Bible studies occasionally. I think that each of us needs to figure out what works best for us, because that’s the only way to remain consistent.

READ MORE: GROW YOUR FAITH GARDEN

Writing devotionals impacts my own spiritual life in so many surprising and deeply meaningful ways. As I study the Bible to choose scripture verses, God speaks to me through His Word, which is always a wonderfully personal experience. As I write the devotional, I keep in touch with God through prayer and He always convicts me on some aspect of my own life.

Download your FREE ebook, Mornings With Jesus: 31 Daily Devotions to Bring You Closer to Christ.

My cup runneth over. —PSALM 23:5

A few years ago the quilters of Gee’s Bend, Alabama, hit the headlines.

For generations, the women of the community had been making quilts from the scraps of their husbands’ work clothes: corduroy, denim, twill. Their children grew up sleeping under piles of patchwork every winter, since most of the houses in the town—populated almost entirely by still-poor descendants of slaves—had no heat. Then an art dealer came to town and told the ladies that their quilts were really something else: They were art.

Within months Gee’s Bend quilts were selling for hundreds, even thousands, of dollars. An exhibition toured museums. The designs—beautiful geometric patterns that resembled modernist paintings—were slapped onto coasters and ties and rugs and note cards.

Awash in newfound celebrity and unprecedented wealth, some of the quilters bought furniture, cars, a new stove for the first time in thirty years.

Then the distrust began to build. There were lawsuits. There were allegations that the dealer wasn’t passing profits on to the women. There were claims of financial mismanagement.

One day I went to talk with one of the oldest quilters. We sat on her rickety front porch, on one of those suffocatingly hot Southern afternoons. I went into nosy-journalist mode, all my questions revolving around one theme: She clearly hadn’t gotten rich, but didn’t she want to be? Wasn’t she upset?

Gazing out at the dusty road, she told me about the old days, about the civil rights movement, about how poor the town had always been, about God’s faithfulness throughout. Then she stopped talking. All I could hear was birdsong.

Finally she turned to me. She had an answer to my questions, a favorite Psalm she wanted to share: “The Lord is my shepherd.” She paused and then continued, stopping after each word for emphasis: “I. Shall. Not. Want.”

Never let me forget, Lord, that my truest riches lie in knowing You.