Tag: Broken Dreams

When the Mind Won’t Settle

Posted in @jimmiekepler, Ancient Wisdom for Today, Bible, Bible Memes, Blog, Caregiver, Caregiving, Christian Living, Christian Writers, Jim Kepler, Jimmie A. Kepler, Jimmie Aaron Kepler, Jimmie Kepler, jimmiekepler.com, Poet, Poet's Life, Poets, US Military History, Writer's Life, WritingLeave a comment
When the Mind Won’t Settle: Renewing Your Thinking in a World Gone Mad
By Jimmie Aaron Kepler

Romans 12:2 (KJV): “And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God.”

There’s something sacred about early mornings.

You know the kind I’m talking about—when the coffee’s brewing, the house is still, and your Bible’s open to a page your heart’s been aching for. 

I sat in one of those moments not long ago, thumbing through the twelfth chapter of Romans. That’s when the words hit me square between the eyes: “Be not conformed to this world, but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind…”

I sipped my coffee, closed my eyes, and let that verse do what the Holy Spirit does best—poke around in places I’d rather keep tidy and untouched.

Because, truth is, my mind doesn’t always do what it’s supposed to.

Maybe yours doesn’t either.

The Real Battleground

These days, we don’t have to look far to find pressure—social media feeds, news cycles, workplace demands, family expectations. It’s a full-blown barrage of noise. Somewhere in the mess, we pick up voices that aren’t our own. Or worse, we amplify the wrong ones.

You’re not good enough.
You’ll never be like them.
You’re too old.
You’ve missed your chance.
God’s forgotten you.

Sound familiar?

The world wants to shape us—to mold our thinking until we’re anxious, reactive, and spiritually worn thin. 

But Romans 12:2 calls us out of that mindset. It reminds us we have a choice:
We can conform or we can transform.

And the difference happens right up here—in our minds.

From Imposter Syndrome to God-Confidence

Before I retired, I was part of a team of young engineers in the IT division of a Fortune 500 company. I was old enough to be their father—sometimes even their grandfather. Most had fancy advanced degrees, bright ideas, and ambition that could light up a city block. They were fast. Sharp. Culturally fluent.

And I’ll admit it—every now and then, I wondered if I still had anything to offer.

That’s imposter syndrome for you.

But I’d learned a long time ago that confidence doesn’t come from diplomas or titles—it comes from knowing who you are in Christ. 

So when the doubts crept in, I didn’t perform harder or pretend stronger. I prayed. I opened the Word. And I let the Lord renew my mind.

You see, the mind of Christ doesn’t echo the world’s judgment. It speaks truth.

It tells us:
You’re chosen.
You’re equipped.
You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be—if you’re walking with Me.

The Daily Work of Renewal

Renewing your mind isn’t a one-and-done event. It’s not like taking a pill that fixes everything overnight. It’s more like washing your windshield after driving through a Texas thunderstorm—necessary, messy, and done more than once.

It happens when we open the Bible before opening our phones.
When we pause to pray before firing off that email.
When we speak Scripture over our anxiety instead of letting the anxiety do all the talking.

Some days, it feels like you’re making progress. Other days, you’re just holding ground. But either way, you’re showing up—and that matters.

God honors the process. He transforms little by little, thought by thought.

How We Show Up Changes Everything

And here’s the kicker—this spiritual renewal doesn’t just stay inside you.
It spills over.

When your mind is transformed, your choices change.
Your leadership changes.
Your relationships shift.
You stop reacting to chaos, and start responding with grace.
You stop performing for approval, and start living from a place of peace.

In Christ, we lead with integrity—not ego.
We serve with compassion—not competition.
We forgive. We listen. We love well.

We begin to “prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect will of God” with our lives—not just our words.

Let the Word Be Louder

Maybe today your mind is crowded with worry.
Maybe you’re overwhelmed with decisions.
Maybe the voices in your head have been too loud, for too long.

Friend, take heart.

You are not alone.
You are not crazy.
And you are not stuck.

You just need a reset—a holy rewiring that only comes through the Word of God.

Let Scripture be the soundtrack of your thoughts.
Let truth drown out the fear.
Let Christ’s voice get the final say.

Because when we renew our minds, we remember what the world wants us to forget:
We are deeply loved.
We are fully known.
We are eternally secure in Jesus Christ.

So pull up a chair.
Pour another cup of coffee.
And open that Bible.

Your thoughts don’t have to run the show anymore.
The renewing of your mind starts now.

Grace and Peace,
Jimmie

📖 Romans 12:2 still speaks. Let it speak to you today.
✍️ Written by Jimmie Aaron Kepler
🌐 jimmiekepler.com | 📰 jimmiekepler.substack.com

Did you enjoy this article? You can find more of Jimmie Aaron Kepler’s books at Jimmie’s books available in paperback, ebook, audio, and large print

 

One Day at a Time

Posted in @jimmiekepler, Ancient Wisdom for Today, Bible, Bible Memes, Blog, Caregiver, Caregiving, Christian Living, Christian Writers, Jim Kepler, Jimmie A. Kepler, Jimmie Aaron Kepler, Jimmie Kepler, jimmiekepler.com, Poet, Poet's Life, Poets, US Military History, Writer's Life, Writing1 Comment
🎙️ One Day at a Time: What I Learned After the Doctor Said “Melanoma”
By Jimmie Aaron Kepler

It was about this time in June 2015. The kind of hot Texas day where the pavement wavers like a mirage and the sky looks too bright for bad news. But bad news doesn’t wait for cloud cover.

We were sitting in a cold room full of diplomas and sterile walls when the doctor cleared her throat and gave me a look I’ll never forget. She said, “Your wife has advanced stage three melanoma. We’ve scheduled surgery in two days.”

I didn’t say much. Just nodded while my insides twisted like barbed wire.

That word—melanoma—hit like a fist to the gut. 

And it came two years after her first diagnosis: neuroendocrine carcinoid. That’s the same rare cancer that took down Steve Jobs, and now it was taking its time with my bride. 

They told us plain, looked my wife in the eye: This is serious. I’ll do the surgery to remove the melanoma. If the it recurs after the surgery, it will kill you. I want you to understand this will be terminal. You will die, and even if by some miracle the melanoma progresses slowly, then the neuroendocrine carcinoid will take your life. She added, You need to get your affairs in order.

You don’t ever forget hearing something like that. (Sadly, only ninety days later a PET scan showed the melanoma had recurred.)

The World Got Quieter After That

Everything slowed down. Even the birds outside seemed to hush. You don’t think about grocery lists or emails after news like that. You think about holding her hand. About how your children and her sisters are gonna take it. About how long you’ve got left to tell her all the things you meant to say over the years.

I won’t walk you through the medical side of it. That was her fight, her pain, and she bore it with a kind of grace that still humbles me. She had her team of doctors, specialists, and treatments stacked high like a pile of phone books. But my focus wasn’t on prescriptions or procedures.

I went looking for God.

My Bible Became My Lifeline

I turned to the scriptures like a thirsty man turns to a well. I’d wake up early, stop on my way to work at Starbucks for a blonde roast coffee, and sit with the Word in one hand and my aching heart in the other.

And over and over, one verse kept coming back like a faithful friend:

“Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.”— Matthew 6:34 (KJV)

That’s Jesus talking. He wasn’t sugarcoating life—He was giving us a way to survive it.

What That Verse Meant to Me

I read it a dozen times before it sank in:
Today is enough. Don’t drag tomorrow’s troubles into it.

I couldn’t fix her diagnosis. Couldn’t plan a perfect future. But I could hold her hand on that day. I could sit beside her while she napped. I could whisper prayers when she was too tired to say her own.

When I stopped staring into the fog of what might be, I started seeing what was—God’s presence, right in the middle of the mess.

A Prayer from a Worn-Out Caregiver

Father in Heaven, help me live in the now.
Let me see You in this moment, even when the moments are hard.
Help me let go of tomorrow’s worries and take hold of the grace You’ve given me today.
I don’t know what’s coming next, Lord, but I know You’ll be there when it does.
And that’s enough for me. Amen.

Looking Back

My wife passed in 2018. And though the pain of her absence lingers, so does the peace I found in that verse. God didn’t promise easy. He promised enough—enough strength for today, enough grace for the heartache, enough hope to keep walking.

So if you’re facing a long road, whether it’s your diagnosis or someone else’s, take it from a fella who’s walked it slow: God is in the middle of it.

Take a breath. Take His hand.
And take it one day at a time.

🕊
Still trusting.
Grace and peace,
Jimmie 

💡 Need More Encouragement for the Journey?

If today’s message about chronic illness struck a chord, you’re not alone. I’ve walked that road—and I wrote a devotional book especially for folks like us navigating the long, winding path of chronic illness.

Whether you’re facing the diagnosis yourself or walking beside someone you love, this book offers heartfelt prayers, biblical wisdom, and honest encouragement for each step of the journey.

👉 Looking for hope, peace, and direction?

You can learn more and grab your copy right here: [Prayers: Prayers for the Chronically Ill: 60 Prayers or Caregiving: Biblical Insights From a Caregiver’s Journey ]

Because you don’t have to walk through this alone—and God’s love still speaks into the hard places.

Did you enjoy this article? You can find more of Jimmie Aaron Kepler’s books at Jimmie’s books available in paperback, ebook, audio, and large print

It’s Okay to Cry

Posted in @jimmiekepler, Ancient Wisdom for Today, Bible, Bible Memes, Blog, Caregiver, Caregiving, Christian Living, Christian Writers, Jim Kepler, Jimmie A. Kepler, Jimmie Aaron Kepler, Jimmie Kepler, jimmiekepler.com, Poet, Poet's Life, Poets, US Military History, Writer's Life, WritingLeave a comment
It’s Okay to Cry
A Morning Thought From Jimmie Aaron Kepler
By Jimmie Aaron Kepler

Living with a chronic illness—or walking beside someone who is—will bring tears. That’s not weakness. That’s not failure. That’s just life being honest. And friend, it’s okay to cry.

Some days, it’s the quiet ache of fatigue that won’t let go. Other days, it’s watching someone you love fight a battle their body doesn’t seem ready to win. And then there are the days where the tears come out of nowhere—no warning, just a wave. I’ve learned not to fight them. I’ve learned to let them come.

And here’s the beautiful truth tucked away in God’s Word: He sees every tear. He remembers every sorrow. And He’s for us, not against us.

📖 Today’s Scripture

Psalm 56:8-9 (KJV)“Thou tellest my wanderings: put thou my tears into thy bottle: are they not in thy book? When I cry unto thee, then shall mine enemies turn back: this I know; for God is for me.”

I love how personal this verse feels. King David, worn and weary from being chased and misunderstood, still believed that his tears mattered to the Almighty. He believed God kept track of each one, collecting them like precious pearls in a bottle. That’s not just poetry—that’s divine care.

💡 What It Means to Me

God doesn’t waste sorrow. He doesn’t overlook tears. And He certainly doesn’t dismiss our pain as something we should just “get over.” No, He sees. He remembers. He heals.

David’s confidence in the Lord’s attention gives me strength. He wasn’t ashamed to cry. He knew the One who counted every step he took and every tear he shed. That same God knows you. Knows me. And, praise His name, He’s for us.

🙏 A Prayer From the Heart

Heavenly Father, thank You for the gift of tears and the healing they bring. Remind me that crying isn’t weakness—it’s honesty. It’s release. It’s the soul’s way of saying, “This matters.”

Lord Jesus, thank You for not brushing aside our weeping. For joining us in the garden of grief. For showing us by Your own example that it’s okay to cry.

Yahweh-Rapha, God who heals, I give You the chronic illness—the weariness, the worry, the long nights, and the uncertain tomorrows. Please grant me and my loved ones the grace to feel what we feel, and to come to You with every single tear.

Let my family be a soft place to land when the sorrow wells up. Help us all be gentle with one another. Loving. Supportive. Kind.

And when I’m tempted to question, Lord, help me trust instead. Help me rest in the confidence of David, who boldly declared: “God is for me.”

Amen.

Tears may fall, but they never fall unnoticed. And sometimes, the holiest thing we can do is let them come.

Grace and Peace,
Jimmie Aaron Kepler
Poet. Storyteller. Encourager of souls.

💡 Need More Encouragement for the Journey?

If today’s message about chronic illness struck a chord, you’re not alone. I’ve walked that road—and I wrote a devotional book especially for folks like us navigating the long, winding path of chronic illness.

Whether you’re facing the diagnosis yourself or walking beside someone you love, this book offers heartfelt prayers, biblical wisdom, and honest encouragement for each step of the journey.

👉 Looking for hope, peace, and direction?

You can learn more and grab your copy right here: [Prayers: Prayers for the Chronically Ill: 60 Prayers]

Because you don’t have to walk through this alone—and God’s love still speaks into the hard places.

Did you enjoy this article? You can find more of Jimmie Aaron Kepler’s books at Jimmie’s books available in paperback, ebook, audio, and large print

Accepting God’s Love

Posted in @jimmiekepler, Ancient Wisdom for Today, Bible, Bible Memes, Blog, Caregiver, Caregiving, Christian Living, Christian Writers, Jim Kepler, Jimmie A. Kepler, Jimmie Aaron Kepler, Jimmie Kepler, jimmiekepler.com, Poet, Poet's Life, Poets, US Military History, Writer's Life, WritingLeave a comment
Accepting God’s Love
A Morning Thought from Jimmie Aaron Kepler
By Jimmie Aaron Kepler

📖 “There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear: because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love.” — 1 John 4:18 (KJV)

There’s something about fear that can sneak into the corners of your heart, especially when you’re staring down a diagnosis you didn’t ask for. The kind that shows up in a doctor’s office on a Tuesday afternoon and lingers long after the sun sets.

I’ve seen it in my own life. I’ve seen it in the eyes of people I love. You get the news—the test results, the scan, the whispered “I’m sorry”—and suddenly the future you thought you had? It evaporates like dew on a hot Texas morning.

Instead of plans, you’ve got questions.
Instead of peace, you’ve got panic.
Instead of control, you’ve got a storm you can’t steer through on your own.

And yet—right there, in the middle of all that uncertainty—God whispers something surprising:

“There is no fear in love.”

Now, that verse from 1 John 4:18 isn’t just a pretty line to embroider on a pillow. It’s a lifeline. A reminder that perfect love—God’s love—casts out fear like light driving out the dark.

💔 What Happens When Life Changes in an Instant?

When you or someone you love is diagnosed with a chronic illness, everything shifts.

Hopes and dreams get put on hold—or rewritten entirely. You start mapping out a new normal. It’s a road you didn’t plan to walk, and it can be lonely, long, and painful.

Chronic illness—by definition—isn’t something that goes away overnight. The U.S. National Center for Health Statistics says it lasts at least three months. Often longer. Sometimes forever.

These are just a few of the chronic illnesses people live with every single day:

  • Alzheimer’s  or Dementia
  • Arthritis and chronic inflammation
  • Cancer
  • Carpal tunnel syndrome or trigger finger
  • Diabetes
  • Heart disease
  • Migraine headaches
  • Multiple sclerosis
  • Parkinson’s disease
  • Sickle cell disease

Each one of these names carries weight. Pain. Exhaustion. Fear. And if you’re the caregiver? The load might be different, but it’s just as heavy.

🙏 So Where’s the Peace?

That’s where 1 John 4:18 steps in.
Not with platitudes. But with promise.

“Perfect love casteth out fear…”

It doesn’t say love tiptoes around fear. It says love casts it out. Throws it out. Evicts it.

And how? Because that love doesn’t come from us—it comes from Jesus Christ.
When we invite Him in, He doesn’t just comfort—He transforms.
He gives us boldness because we begin to look like Him. And He, friend, is not afraid.

That kind of love—His love—is the cease and desist letter to fear.

It’s what lets you sit beside a hospital bed and still have hope.
It’s what lets you wake up with uncertainty and still find peace.
It’s what lets you say, “I don’t know what tomorrow brings—but I know Who holds it.”

💡 Real Love. Real Courage.

It’s easy to talk about love when life is calm.
But real, perfect love shows up when everything falls apart.

Jesus doesn’t promise us a pain-free life. He promises us His presence in the pain.
And when His perfect love lives in us, we’re not defined by fear anymore.

Not even death can shake the peace He gives.

“He that feareth is not made perfect in love.”

So if fear is creeping in—and it does from time to time—that just means it’s time to lean deeper into Jesus. Let His love finish its work in you.

🛐 A Prayer from the Heart

If you’re walking through illness, caregiving, or fear of any kind, I invite you to pray with me:

Lord Jesus, thank You that there is no fear in love—but perfect love casts out fear. Heavenly Father, help me keep my mind and heart focused on You and Your love for me.

When I look toward the future and feel anxious, remind me You’re already there. Give me grace to meet each challenge. Strength for each step. Peace that passes understanding.

And help me know, with full confidence, that as a Believer in Jesus Christ, my ultimate future is secure—in Heaven with You. 

Amen.

🕊️ One Last Thing

If you’ve never accepted Jesus Christ as your Savior, now’s a fine time to do so.

You don’t need to have all the answers. You just need to say yes to the One who already loves you perfectly.

And if you have—hold tight. Fear doesn’t get the final word. Love does. Always.

Grace and peace to you, friends.
—Jimmie 

💡 Need More Encouragement for the Journey?

If today’s message about chronic illness struck a chord, you’re not alone. I’ve walked that road—and I wrote a devotional book especially for folks like us navigating the long, winding path of chronic illness.

Whether you’re facing the diagnosis yourself or walking beside someone you love, this book offers heartfelt prayers, biblical wisdom, and honest encouragement for each step of the journey.

👉 Looking for hope, peace, and direction?

You can learn more and grab your copy right here: [Prayers: Prayers for the Chronically Ill: 60 Prayers]

Because you don’t have to walk through this alone—and God’s love still speaks into the hard places.

Did you enjoy this article? You can find more of Jimmie Aaron Kepler’s books at Jimmie’s books available in paperback, ebook, audio, and large print

📍 jimmiekepler.com | jimmiekepler.substack.com

 

When You Don’t Even Know What to Pray

Posted in @jimmiekepler, Ancient Wisdom for Today, Bible, Bible Memes, Blog, Caregiver, Caregiving, Christian Living, Christian Writers, Jim Kepler, Jimmie A. Kepler, Jimmie Aaron Kepler, Jimmie Kepler, jimmiekepler.com, Poet, Poet's Life, Poets, US Military History, Writer's Life, WritingLeave a comment
☕ When You Don’t Even Know What to Pray
A Morning Thought from Jimmie Aaron Kepler
Romans 8:26–28 (KJV)

Dear Friends,

There’s a certain kind of morning that sneaks up on a man. You know the one.

The sky’s still dark. The coffee’s brewing. The house is quiet except for the occasional creak of old wood settling. You hear a feral cat meowing outside by the door, wanting to be fed.

And there you are—sitting in the stillness, Bible cracked open, heart wide open, and not a single word in your mouth worth saying.

I’ve had more of those mornings than I can count. Maybe you have too.

The Ache Behind the Silence

The kind of morning where the weight of the world presses just a little heavier on your chest. Even the idea of putting together a prayer feels like trying to herd cats in a thunderstorm. You want to talk to God, but the words get stuck somewhere between the ache and the sigh.

That’s when Romans 8:26–28 comes like an old friend knocking at the screen door:

“Likewise the Spirit also helpeth our infirmities: for we know not what we should pray for as we ought: but the Spirit itself maketh intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered.”

The Spirit Prays for Us

Not eloquence. Not perfect phrasing. Just deep, wordless cries that rise up when your soul’s too tired to explain.

And the beauty of it? God already knows. He’s not asking for polished prayers—He’s asking for presence. Yours.

The Holy Spirit translates what we can’t say. He takes our fear, our fatigue, our confusion—and carries it straight to the throne.

“And he that searcheth the hearts knoweth what is the mind of the Spirit…”

God sees the full picture, even the parts we’ve hidden from ourselves.

Nothing Is Wasted

He knows the weariness. The loss. The waiting. The long nights. And somehow—through mystery, mercy, and more grace than we’ll ever deserve—He’s working.

“…All things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.”

Now that doesn’t mean everything feels good. But it does mean God isn’t wasting a single moment—not even the tangled ones.

Keep Showing Up

So if you’re reading this and the words just won’t come, don’t worry.

You don’t have to know what to pray. Just show up. Sit still. Let the Spirit groan on your behalf. He’s got you covered.

And when the fog lifts, and the path becomes clear again, you’ll look back and see He was weaving purpose through every thread.

Even the ones that hurt.

Until next time, keep showing up.
Keep loving God.
He’s not done with your story yet.

Grace and peace,
Jimmie

P.S.
If this devotional encouraged you, forward it to a friend who might need it today. Subscribe to my email list to be notified of new posts.

📚 jimmiekepler.com | ✍️ jimmiekepler.substack.com

Stay the Path, Finish with Joy

Posted in @jimmiekepler, Ancient Wisdom for Today, Bible, Bible Memes, Blog, Caregiver, Caregiving, Christian Living, Christian Writers, Jim Kepler, Jimmie A. Kepler, Jimmie Aaron Kepler, Jimmie Kepler, jimmiekepler.com, Poet, Poet's Life, Poets, US Military History, Writer's Life, WritingLeave a comment

🎖️ Stay the Path, Finish with Joy
By Jimmie Aaron Kepler

This verse hit me like an old friend knocking on the screen door, early in the morning with coffee on and the world still quiet.

“But none of these things move me, neither count I my life dear unto myself, so that I might finish my course with joy…” – 📖 Acts 20:24 (KJV)

Paul’s words don’t whisper—they stand tall. There’s a kind of grit in his voice, the kind that looks trouble in the eye and says, “You won’t move me.” He knows what he’s here for. He knows the road he’s walking. And no storm, no setback, no critic, no fear is gonna shake that.

Reading it brought me back to a chapter of my life that still shapes who I am.

I was a U.S. Army officer then—young, sharp, full of responsibility. I led troops, some of them barely old enough to shave, yet already carrying more weight on their shoulders than most folks ever see. There were times it got rough. When the unknowns pressed in. When fear didn’t come kicking the door down, but crept in slow, like fog curling through the trees. We the soldiers looked at me, praying I knew what I was doing, would lead them, bring them back.

I remember those moments from over half a century ago—standing in the dark, boots on the ground, heart thumping like a drum—and holding tight to the few things I knew for sure: my orders, my calling, and my God.

That kind of focus—that calm in the chaos—that’s what Paul’s talking about.

He wasn’t interested in preserving comfort or status. He wasn’t living to protect his life—he was living to pour it out. For the gospel. For grace. For the joy that comes from finishing what he was given to do.

And that, friend, is what I want too. Not a life wrapped in bubble wrap. Not a legacy padded with accolades. I want to walk my road, do my work, write my stories, love my people, and stand before my Savior someday, not with regret—but with joy.

Joy in the doing.
Joy in the giving.
Joy in the finishing.

I don’t know what kind of season you’re in today. Maybe you’re leading others. Maybe you’re trying to hold it together in a job that feels thankless. Maybe you’re quietly fighting battles no one sees.

Wherever you are—stay the path.

Don’t let the hard stuff move you. Don’t forget who gave you your marching orders. And don’t count your life too dear to be spent in the service of something bigger.

Finish your course. Finish it strong.
And by God’s grace—finish with joy.

Grace and peace,
Jimmie

Did you enjoy this article? You can find more of Jimmie Aaron Kepler’s books at Jimmie’s books available in paperback, ebook, audio, and large print

Hope That Holds When the Bottom Drops Out

Posted in @jimmiekepler, Ancient Wisdom for Today, Bible, Bible Memes, Blog, Caregiver, Caregiving, Christian Living, Christian Writers, Jim Kepler, Jimmie A. Kepler, Jimmie Aaron Kepler, Jimmie Kepler, jimmiekepler.com, Poet, Poet's Life, Poets, US Military History, Writer's Life, Writing1 Comment

Hope That Holds When the Bottom Drops Out
By Jimmie Aaron Kepler

“Now the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that ye may abound in hope, through the power of the Holy Ghost.” — Romans 15:13 (KJV)

It was just after six when I stepped outside. The sky was still deciding what kind of day it wanted to be—somewhere between navy blue and gold, quiet as a prayer. Steam rose from my coffee mug as I sat down on the old wooden bench I keep near the back fence, the one that leans just enough to remind you it’s been there longer than some friendships.

I watched the light stretch across the yard, painting the tops of the trees first, then spilling over the grass, and I thought about this verse:

“Now the God of hope fill you…”

Fill you.
Not just top you off. Not give you a sip.
Fill you.

That hit me. Because some days, I’m running on empty and trying to fake full.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve had my share of days when the joy ran dry and peace seemed like a postcard from a place I’d never been. Times when believing felt more like hanging on by a thread than standing tall in faith. But then the Holy Spirit whispers—reminds me He hasn’t gone anywhere.

Romans 15:13 isn’t just a blessing—it’s a lifeline. It’s a holy refueling station on the side of a worn-out road.

We’re all hungry, aren’t we?

Hungry for a joy that doesn’t come with conditions.
For peace that sticks around when the doctor shakes his head, when the checkbook won’t balance, or when the people you counted on… don’t.
For hope that shows up with its boots on and says, “I’m not leaving, no matter what.”

This world’ll take the breath out of you if you’re not anchored in something stronger. The headlines alone can steal your sleep. But here’s the good news: Our hope doesn’t depend on what we see. It depends on the One we trust.

Believing isn’t about having all the answers. It’s about knowing where to turn when you don’t.

When you’re sitting in the quiet, maybe with tears you haven’t let fall yet—He meets you there.

When you’re staring at your phone, waiting on news you can’t control—He meets you there.

When you’re just trying to make it to Friday, holding your breath and holding your family together—He meets you right there.

And He fills.

Not because you’ve earned it.
Not because you’ve got it all figured out.
But because that’s who He is.
The God of hope. The Giver of joy. The Bringer of peace.

So wherever this finds you today—
Whether you’re on a front porch or stuck in traffic…
Whether your heart feels heavy or light as air…
I pray the God of hope fills you up—deep down, all the way.
And that by the power of the Holy Ghost, you abound in hope.

Not scrape by in hope.
Not ration it like there’s a shortage.
But abound.

Because there’s no limit to what He can do.
And there’s no bottom to His well.

With grace, grit, and a strong cup of coffee,
Jimmie

Did you enjoy this article? You can find more of Jimmie Aaron Kepler’s books at Jimmie’s books available in paperback, ebook, audio, and large print

You can also read this article at 📬 jimmiekepler.substack.com
🌐 jimmiekepler.com

 

Stayin’ Connected to the Vine

Posted in @jimmiekepler, Ancient Wisdom for Today, Bible, Bible Memes, Blog, Caregiver, Caregiving, Christian Living, Christian Writers, Jim Kepler, Jimmie A. Kepler, Jimmie Aaron Kepler, Jimmie Kepler, jimmiekepler.com, Poet, Poet's Life, Poets, US Military History, Writer's Life, WritingLeave a comment

🍇 Stayin’ Connected to the Vine
by Jimmie Aaron Kepler

“I am the vine, ye are the branches: He that abideth in me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit: for without me ye can do nothing.” — John 15:5 (KJV)

This verse found me again today—like a well-worn song that still knows how to stir something deep inside.

I had just come back from a walk down by the park, coffee in hand. The sun was rising slow over the little lake. No wind, no birds chirping just yet. Just that stillness you don’t get much anymore unless you go looking for it. I sat on the bench under that same old oak tree that’s been leaning over the water longer than I’ve been walking this earth. The lake was still as glass, not a ripple, and I thought to myself, now that’s what peace looks like.

And right there, the verse popped into my head—

“I am the vine, ye are the branches…”

I don’t know about you, but I’ve had seasons where I’ve tried to live like I was the vine and the branch and the whole blessed vineyard. Working hard, pushing through, convincing myself I could carry the load if I just gritted my teeth and bore down harder.

But all that ever got me was worn out and wondering why the joy had up and left.

Jesus wasn’t just making a poetic point when He said this. He was telling us a truth that ain’t changed since the Upper Room. He’s the source. He’s the strength. He’s the reason anything good grows in us or through us.

See, when I abide—really stay close, like a branch wrapped tight around the vine—I’m not running on empty. I’m not hustling for fruit. It just shows up. Not because I earned it. But because I stayed connected.

I’ve noticed it in the small things. A little more patience when someone cuts me off in traffic. A kinder tone when talking to a loved one who’s had a hard day. A deeper peace in the middle of medical appointments or long nights when sleep won’t come easy. And yeah, sometimes even a bit more creative spark when I sit down to write.

It ain’t about striving. It’s about staying.

Without Him, I dry up. But with Him? Things bloom. In His time. In His way.

So this morning, with the sun rising over that still lake, I whispered a simple prayer—not for strength, not for direction—but just, “Lord, help me stay close today.”

That’s enough. That’s where the fruit grows.

Reflection:
Have you been feeling dry or disconnected lately? Maybe it’s not that you need to do more. Maybe you just need to stay close. Let Him be the vine. You just hold on.

Grace and Peace,
Jimmie

Did you enjoy this article? You can find more of Jimmie Aaron Kepler’s books at Jimmie’s books available in paperback, ebook, audio, and large print

jimmiekepler.com | jimmiekepler.substack.com

John155, FaithRoots, AbideInChrist, MorningReflections, John 15:5, IAmtheVine

Peace In The Storm

Posted in @jimmiekepler, Ancient Wisdom for Today, Bible, Bible Memes, Blog, Caregiver, Caregiving, Christian Living, Christian Writers, Jim Kepler, Jimmie A. Kepler, Jimmie Aaron Kepler, Jimmie Kepler, jimmiekepler.com, Poet, Poet's Life, Poets, US Military History, Writer's Life, WritingLeave a comment

🕊️ Peace in the Storm
By Jimmie Aaron Kepler

📖 “These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.” — John 16:33 KJV

Some mornings whisper their way in.

That’s how it was today. I woke up a little before sunrise, just as the world was starting to stretch and stir. I poured my coffee, fed the feral cats who were already pacing like little sentinels by the back fence, and decided to do something I hadn’t done in a while—I walked down to Cottonwood Park.

The air was cool, like the tail end of a prayer. The breeze was soft, just enough to rustle the leaves overhead. I made my way to the edge of that little lake—the one tucked behind the row of pecan trees—and stood still.

And there it was.

The sun, just beginning to peek up over the far side of the water, casting gold across everything it touched. The lake looked like glass. Not a ripple. Just stillness. Still and soft and sacred. Even the birds seemed to hush in that moment, like creation itself was pausing to watch.

I stood there a long while. No noise, no rush. Just peace.

And that’s when the verse rose up in my heart, like it had been waiting for the right time to speak: 

“These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace…”

I felt it right then—not some vague idea of peace, but real peace. The kind that settles deep. The kind you don’t have to explain. The kind that shows up not because the world is easy, but because Christ is near.

You and I both know the rest of that verse. 

“In the world ye shall have tribulation…” 

And Lord knows, I’ve had my share. You probably have too. Trouble doesn’t take a holiday. It knocks when it wants and doesn’t care if it’s a good time.

But that little lake—still as faith and bright as hope—reminded me of the rest of what Jesus said: 

“But be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.”

That’s the promise we hold to. Not that trouble won’t come, but that it won’t win.

I think about the storms I’ve faced—some recent, some from a lifetime ago. The ones that knocked the wind out of me. The ones that left scars I still carry. But somehow, every time, Jesus was already waiting on the other side, steady as sunrise.

The peace He gives isn’t about escaping the hard stuff. It’s about standing firm in the middle of it. Like that lake, unmoved by the wind. Like a song my grandma used to hum while hanging laundry—“It is well with my soul.” That’s what faith looks like. That’s what overcoming feels like.

So I say this to you, as much as I say it to myself: Take heart. Breathe deep. Walk down to your own lake—whatever that looks like—and let the peace of Christ speak louder than the storm.

He’s already overcome.

Grace and peace to you,
Jimmie

Did you enjoy this article? You can find more of Jimmie Aaron Kepler’s books at Jimmie’s books available in paperback, ebook, audio, and large print

jimmiekepler.com | jimmiekepler.substack.com

Write It Plain

Posted in @jimmiekepler, Ancient Wisdom for Today, Bible, Bible Memes, Blog, Caregiver, Caregiving, Christian Living, Christian Writers, Jim Kepler, Jimmie A. Kepler, Jimmie Aaron Kepler, Jimmie Kepler, jimmiekepler.com, Poet, Poet's Life, Poets, US Military History, Writer's Life, WritingLeave a comment

Write It Plain: A Morning Reflection on Habakkuk 2:2
By Jimmie Aaron Kepler

Well now…

This morning, as the sunlight spilled soft across my writing desk and the feral cats lounged lazy on the other side of the backyard fence, I found myself staring at a familiar verse. Not just reading it, but hearing it in my bones.

“And the LORD answered me, and said, Write the vision, and make it plain upon tables, that he may run that readeth it.”— Habakkuk 2:2 KJV

I reckon most of us have a vision tucked away somewhere. Maybe it’s scribbled on the back of a church bulletin. Maybe it’s just whispered in prayer after midnight. Maybe, like an old photograph in a shoebox, it’s something you haven’t looked at in years.

But friend, God didn’t give you that dream just to leave it gathering dust.

Put Pen to Paper

There’s something holy about a blank page. It’s honest. It doesn’t pretend to have all the answers. But it sure will hold the questions, the hopes, the prayers you’ve been carrying around in your chest like a thundercloud.

Writing the vision down doesn’t make it easier. It makes it real.
It makes it something you can hand to someone else and say, “Here. This is what I believe. This is where I’m headed.”

The Lord told Habakkuk not just to write the vision—but to make it plain. Not fancy. Not dressed up in churchy words or business-speak. Plain. Simple. Understandable.

Why?

“That he may run that readeth it.”

Because somebody out there is waiting for that clarity. Waiting to run. Waiting to follow something true.

Don’t Keep It in the Shadows

We live in a world where dreams often die of hesitation. We wait until the timing feels right. Until we feel “qualified.” Until we’ve got it all figured out.

But faith doesn’t always walk hand-in-hand with certainty.

Sometimes the boldest act of belief is to write the first sentence. To sketch the idea. To speak the vision out loud in a room that isn’t clapping yet.

If the Lord gave you the dream, He’ll give you the strength to see it through. And if you’re still squinting for clarity? That’s alright. Keep writing. Keep praying. Keep stepping.

Clarity often comes in motion.

A Little Story

Years ago, I had a story stirring in my soul. A tale set in a small Texas town with coal-miner-helmet-wearing prairie dogs, no less. Every time I thought about it, I’d grin. But I kept telling myself it was too silly, too strange, too “out there.” Finally, I wrote it as a short story. I shopped it. I sold it to science fiction magazine – “Bewildering Stories” That issue of the magazine won a major award.

Then one day, I read Habakkuk 2:2 again, and it hit me different. I was thinking about what to write next. I thought about turning the short story into a speculative fiction novel. I grabbed a pen, opened a fresh notebook, and started writing the first draft of my book in progress: The Shamrock Incident: The Night the Ground Started Glowing. Within four weeks I had completed a 105,000 word first draft.

Was it perfect? Not even close.
But it was mine. It was clear.
And once it was on paper, it had a heartbeat.

And now I’m doing the rewrites and edits — getting it ready to go to the editor in a few weeks.

Friend, Start Today

Maybe it’s a book.
Maybe it’s a ministry.
Maybe it’s a new chapter of life entirely.

Whatever the Lord has planted in your spirit—write it down.
Write it plain.
Speak it bold.
Live it true.

There’s a runner out there who’s been waiting to see what you’ve been holding back.

So go ahead.
Uncap the pen.
Pull out the journal.
And start.

Right now’s a mighty fine time.

Grace and Peace,
Jimmie

Did you enjoy this article? You can find more of Jimmie Aaron Kepler’s books at Jimmie’s books available in paperback, ebook, audio, and large print

jimmiekepler.com | jimmiekepler.substack.com