Titus 2 Magazine

11/20/2025

11/19/2025

Lord, there are periods on this journey when the path becomes steep, rocky, and profoundly difficult. The emotional toll, the physical exhaustion, and the sustained opposition cause me to doubt my ability to continue. When the trail is hard, my instinct is to measure the challenge against my limited strength and conclude that I will inevitably fail or break down under the pressure.

I pray that when the path is hard, You will silence that doubt and remind me of the revolutionary, sustaining truth: Your power is made perfect in my weakness.

The hardness of the path, Lord, is not a mistake; it is the necessary backdrop against which Your divine power is meant to be displayed. My weakness is not an obstacle to Your intervention, but the very condition that invites it. When I reach the end of my capacity—when I cannot take one more step, think one more clear thought, or muster one more ounce of resolve—that is the exact moment Your strength becomes boundless and undeniable in my experience.

Help me to embrace the difficulty, not as a sign of my inadequacy, but as a guaranteed channel for Your sufficiency. The hardness is meant to humble me, teaching me the essential lesson of reliance. Let me surrender my striving and simply stand in the reality that Your perfect power sustains me through this impossible passage. Because the path is hard, Your grace will be clearly seen, and the victory, when it comes, will undeniably belong to You.

11/19/2025

If it’s too heavy for you to carry into the night, place it in God’s hands. He’s awake, He’s able, and He’s already working. ✨

11/18/2025

One of my earliest memories is hearing my grandfather, Elmer Johnson, pray for me. He would kneel next to his bed at night, take off his hearing aids, and pray for his family. He couldn’t hear himself, but everybody else in the house could!

My grandfather died when I was 6, but his prayers did not. When I’ve received blessings I did nothing to deserve, the Holy Spirit has whispered to me: The prayers of your grandfather are being answered in your life right now!

In a sense, my Grandpa Johnson’s legacy is my destiny. I can’t tell my story without telling his. Legacy is not what we accomplish; it’s what others accomplish because of us. Prayer invites parents and grandparents to help shape the destiny of their children and grandchildren.

Throughout Scripture, we see how God can use the faith of one individual to transform others’ lives. The Apostle Paul, for example, ended his epistle to the Romans by naming 28 people who influenced his life: Phoebe, Priscilla, and Aquilla … and then there’s Rufus.

“Greet Rufus, whom the Lord picked out to be his very own …” (Romans 16:13, NLT).

Most scholars believe this is the same Rufus mentioned in Mark’s Gospel. His father, Simon of Cyrene, carried the cross of Christ:

“A certain man from Cyrene, Simon, the father of Alexander and Rufus, was passing by on his way in from the country, and they forced him to carry the cross” (Mark 15:21, NIV).

Alexander and Rufus may have witnessed what happened that day. If so, there is no way they forgot it. Perhaps watching their father carry the cross, then seeing Jesus hang on it, left a permanent imprint on their souls.

Be encouraged today that your whispered prayers, your quiet acts of faith, and your faithful love for God are not wasted. Not only does God see you, but others are watching in ways you might not even realize — ways that will produce fruit generations from now.

-Mark Batterson

How have you seen the fruit of other generations impacting your life?

11/16/2025

Galatians chapter 5 context: https://kjbo.org/Galatians-Chapter-5/

11/16/2025

We all have them. Weak places. Places inside that make us wonder if we’ll ever get it together like those “together people.” Places that make us feel less than. Less than victorious. Less than a conqueror. Less than strong.

But even the smallest drop of God’s strength is more than enough to cover our frailties, our shortcomings, the places where we deem ourselves weak.

Today, let’s remember that God doesn’t shame us for our weak places. Instead, He invites us to be gloriously dependent on Him. The only One powerful enough to help us. The only One sufficient enough to cover us in grace throughout the process.

Our circumstances may not be sufficient.
Our finances may not be sufficient.
Our willpower may not be sufficient.
Our confidence may not be sufficient.

But He is and has been and forever will be.

11/16/2025

Lord, grant me the courage to choose inner peace over outer validation. Teach me to stop chasing approval that leaves me empty and to start nurturing the quiet strength that comes from being grounded in You. When I feel the pull to impress, perform, or prove myself, remind me that my worth does not come from applause—it comes from Your love.

Lord, steady my heart when I’m tempted to compare my life to others, to measure myself by standards that don’t align with who You created me to be. Help me silence the craving for praise that distracts me from my purpose. Remind me that I don’t need the world’s affirmation to walk confidently in the path You’ve set before me.

Give me the boldness to choose calm over chaos, authenticity over performance, and truth over image. Help me release the fear of disappointing others and replace it with a desire to honor You above all else. Let my decisions come from peace, not pressure. Let my voice be guided by integrity, not insecurity.

Lord, when I feel overlooked or undervalued, whisper to my heart that You see me fully. You know my intentions, my struggles, my efforts, and the quiet victories no one else notices. Help me rest in the truth that being unseen by others does not mean being unseen by You.

Strengthen me to protect my inner world—the part of me where joy is formed, where peace is nurtured, and where confidence is born. Guard that space from negative opinions, unrealistic expectations, and the noise that tries to pull me away from Your presence.

Teach me that real validation is not loud; it’s steady. It’s the kind that comes from knowing who I am and whose I am. Help me delight in Your approval—the only approval that lasts, the only approval that truly brings peace.

Lord, grant me the courage to choose what nourishes my soul rather than what flatters my ego. Help me value quiet confidence over public applause. And let my life be guided not by who is watching, but by the peace You place within my spirit.

11/16/2025

Let this day start with calm thoughts, gentle smiles, and thankful hearts.☺🍂💛🍁

11/16/2025

Because sometimes, the waiting feels endless. The pain lingers longer than I expected, and I start to wonder if things will ever feel whole again. Healing — whether of the body, the mind, or the heart — rarely looks the way I hope it will. It comes quietly, slowly, often hidden beneath the surface where I can’t measure the progress. But You, Lord, are working in places my eyes can’t reach. You’re mending what’s broken, even when I can’t see the evidence yet. So when I grow weary in the waiting, remind me that unseen doesn’t mean unfinished — that Your hands are still holding, still restoring, still healing.

You’ve taught me that healing isn’t always a sudden miracle — sometimes it’s a process, a gentle unfolding. It’s in the small steps, the quiet strength to get through another day, the moments when the tears come a little less than before. It’s in the softening of a heart that once felt hardened, in the peace that slowly replaces pain, in the hope that begins to breathe again after a long silence. You’re working through all of it — through rest, through reflection, through time, through grace. And though I can’t always see what You’re doing, I trust that You never stop.

Lord, help me not to confuse stillness with stagnation. Just because I can’t see visible change doesn’t mean nothing’s happening. Just because it still hurts doesn’t mean You’re not healing. Healing takes time — and You take Your time because You care about depth, not speed. You’re not just patching up wounds; You’re renewing hearts. You’re teaching lessons that only pain could uncover and building strength in places that once felt weak.

When discouragement whispers that nothing is changing, remind me of all the times You’ve healed me before — sometimes without me even realizing it. The heartbreaks I thought I’d never recover from, the fears I thought I’d never overcome, the seasons I thought I’d never get through — yet here I am, standing. Proof that You’ve been healing me all along.

So even when I can’t feel the progress, let me rest in Your promise: *“He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion.”* (Philippians 1:6) You don’t abandon what You start. You finish it, perfectly, in Your time.

Lord, remind me that healing doesn’t mean the past disappears — it means it no longer defines me. It means I can look back without breaking, breathe without heaviness, and smile where I once cried. And even if I’m not there yet, I believe I will be — because You’re still working.

So when I can’t see healing, help me to feel Your presence instead. When progress feels invisible, let Your peace be proof that something is shifting inside me. Thank You for being patient with me in the process, for holding me together in the in-between, and for turning even this pain into purpose. Healing is happening — because You are, and You never stop.