Tag: John1633

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