Bad Doesn’t Last Forever

After You Have Suffered for a Little While

By Jimmie Aaron Kepler

Life’s got a way of wearing a body down sometimes, doesn’t it?
Some days it feels like you’re getting dragged through a barbed-wire fence — slow and painful — and just when you think you can’t take another step, something shifts.

This morning, sitting with my second cup of coffee, I found myself thumbing through 1 Peter. My worn old Bible practically falls open to the good parts by now, and sure enough, my eyes landed on this:

“And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.”
— 1 Peter 5:10 (ESV)

I must’ve read that verse a hundred times over the years, but today it hit a little different.
Maybe because lately, I’ve been feeling that “suffered a little while” part in my bones.

The Promise in the Pain

Peter doesn’t sugarcoat it, does he?
He doesn’t say if you suffer. He says after you suffer — meaning it’s a sure thing. Part of the journey. No shortcuts. No easy outs.

But here’s the part I don’t want us to miss: suffering isn’t the end of the story.
It’s just a page in the chapter, not the whole book.

God’s promises aren’t empty words stitched on a throw pillow. They’re blood-bought, tear-stained, Spirit-breathed assurances. And one of those promises is this:
After the suffering, comes the restoring.

God himself — not an angel, not a preacher, not some well-meaning friend — but God himself will step in and do what only He can do:

  • Restore what’s been broken.
  • Confirm what’s been wavering.
  • Strengthen what’s been weak.
  • Establish what’s been uncertain.

He doesn’t leave us bruised and limping.
He binds up the wounds and stands us back up on solid ground.

A Little While

I know sometimes a “little while” can feel like an eternity.

Waiting on healing. Waiting on answers. Waiting on a prodigal to come home.
There’s a heaviness in waiting that can wear you slick out.

But compared to forever, it’s just a blink.
God’s timing isn’t measured in microwave minutes — it’s measured in the slow, steady beat of eternity.

So hold on, friend.
Grip that plow a little tighter.
Trust the One who sees the end from the beginning.

What This Means for Today

If you’re walking through fire today, know this:

  • You are not forgotten.
  • You are not being punished.
  • You are not stuck forever.

You’re in the “little while” part.
And the restoring is already in motion — even if you can’t see it yet.

Maybe you just need a reminder today that God’s not finished.
He’s still in the business of putting broken folks back together better than before.

You’re not just going to survive.
By His grace, you’re going to stand tall again.

Final Thoughts

This old world can break your heart — but it can’t break the One who holds your heart.

Today, I’m leaning into the God of all grace.
Not the god of “second chances” (though He gives those),
Not the god of “do better and try harder,”
But the God who restores, confirms, strengthens, and establishes — when all my strength is gone.

Take heart, friends.
The same God who called you to glory is walking with you through the valley.
And after you’ve suffered a little while — just a little while —
He will make you whole again.

And that’s a promise you can count on.

Stay faithful, stay kind, and keep walking.

Grace and peace,
Jimmie

If this encouraged you today, feel free to share it with a friend who might be in their “little while” season.
You’re not alone — and neither are they.

More reflections like this at jimmiekepler.com and 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.

You Are Handcrafted

You Are Handcrafted

Ephesians 2:10 KJV — 📖 “For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God hath before ordained that we should walk in them.”


There’s a slow kind of beauty in knowing you weren’t mass-produced.

You weren’t slapped together on an assembly line.
You’re not a barcode.
You’re a masterpiece—handcrafted by the Creator of the heavens and the earth.

That’s what Ephesians 2:10 reminds me.
God made you on purpose, with a purpose.
And not just to be—but to do.
To walk in good works He already laid out, like stepping stones in a stream.


I’ll be honest…
That changes how I look at today.

Makes me want to take it slow—
notice the morning light dancing through the blinds,
sip my coffee just a little longer,
and ask, “Lord, what’s my good work today?”

Maybe it’s writing a kind word in a note that’s long overdue.
Maybe it’s forgiving somebody who hasn’t even asked.
Maybe it’s showing up and listening when someone’s hurting.

Whatever it is, I want to walk in it—
not rush past it.
Not miss it.
Because I was made for it.


Friend, you’re God’s workmanship.
You’re not forgotten. Not overlooked.
You’re designed by divine hands.

So take a deep breath.
Walk into today with purpose.
And remember—you’re not walking alone.

Let’s keep walking in grace,
—Jimmie

Did you enjoy this article? You can find more of Jimmie Aaron Kepler’s books at https://www.amazon.com/stores/Jimmie-Kepler/author/B00IBTG83K.

The article was originally published on Ancient Wisdom for Modern Times.

He Is Risen — Just As He Said

He Is Risen — Just As He Said

By Jimmie Aaron Kepler

Sunlight crept over the hillside like it had somewhere to be.

The air was still—one of those sacred still mornings when the world feels caught between what was and what’s about to be. Somewhere off in the distance, a rooster let out a crow like it didn’t want to be forgotten. But near the garden tomb, everything held its breath.

And then, just like that… the stone was rolled away.

Not cracked, not broken—rolled. Neat, clean, like someone had opened the door from the inside. The tomb stood wide open. But it wasn’t chaotic or messy. It was peaceful. Finished.

“He is not here: for he is risen, as he said. Come, see the place where the Lord lay.”
— Matthew 28:6 KJV

“As He said.”
Like we should’ve known.
Like He’d already told us, and we just didn’t quite believe it would play out this way.

But that’s the heart of Easter, ain’t it?

A promise made. A promise kept. A Savior who didn’t just talk the talk but walked the long, hard road right through the valley of death—and came out the other side carrying life in His hands.

That morning, the tomb wasn’t just empty. It was victorious.

And friend, here’s what’s been stirring in my soul:

That same resurrection power?
It’s not just for then. It’s for now.

It shows up in quiet hospital rooms when healing comes.
In living rooms where forgiveness finally breaks the silence.
In graveside moments when we grieve with hope instead of despair.
In your heart and mine when we’re ready to give up, and somehow… we don’t.

Because Christ the Lord is risen today.
And He still rolls stones away.

So let’s not treat Easter like a seasonal thing. This is a soul thing. A forever thing.

Today, as the sun rises and songs are sung, and families gather around full tables or quiet ones—remember this:

The tomb is still empty.
The promise still stands.
And Jesus? He’s alive. Just like He said.

Happy Easter, friends. He is risen indeed.

Did you enjoy this article? You can find more of Jimmie Aaron Kepler’s books at https://www.amazon.com/stores/Jimmie-Kepler/author/B00IBTG83K.

 

Holy Saturday

by Jimmie Aaron Kepler

It’s the in-between day.

The cross is behind us. The empty tomb’s just ahead. And here we sit—in the quiet, the waiting, the wondering.

Holy Saturday doesn’t get much attention. No grand worship services. No trumpets. No lilies. Just stillness. A kind of sacred hush.

Jesus lay in the tomb.

His followers were scattered, grieving, confused.

Heaven seemed silent.

But even then, God was working behind the scenes—doing the kind of soul-deep work that doesn’t shout.

I think of the times in my life that feel like this day.

Not the heartbreak of Friday. Not the hallelujahs of Sunday. Just the waiting. The trusting. The holding on.

Holy Saturday reminds us: when it looks like nothing is happening, God is still moving.

So we wait. With faith. With hope. With quiet hearts leaning forward.

Did you enjoy this article? You can find more of Jimmie Aaron Kepler’s books at https://www.amazon.com/stores/Jimmie-Kepler/author/B00IBTG83K.