Trusting God’s Heart in Hard Seasons

When I was about seven or eight years old, my best childhood girlfriend, Trisha, and I decided we were entrepreneurs.

It was the late 1970s, and we had a plan. We were going to sell coupons — door-to-door. In our minds, we were brilliant. Strategic. Visionary.

If my dad hadn’t seen us walk into Miss Sadie and Miss Bernice’s house, we might be millionaires today.

He didn’t storm over. He didn’t embarrass us in front of the elderly sisters. He waited. He watched from the porch. He let the scene play out just long enough to understand exactly what we were doing.

Then he walked us home—about six houses up the street—and sat us down.

This was back when parents looked out for every child in the neighborhood. If you were outside, you belonged to the collective watch of the block. And my dad explained—firmly but calmly—why we were never to go into someone’s home like that again.

Anything could have happened.

At seven years old, we had no concept of that kind of danger. Our punishment felt unfair at the time. We thought we were building an empire. He knew we were exposing ourselves to risk we didn’t even understand.

Looking back, I now see what I couldn’t see then:

Correction was compassion.

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God’s Loving Discipline

The same is true with God.

There are moments when we confidently follow our own plans. We walk into situations convinced of our own wisdom. We move ahead certain that our intentions are good.

And sometimes, God steps in.

Not to shame.
Not to abandon.
Not to crush our initiative.

But to protect.

Lamentations 3:31-33 NIV reminds us:

“For no one is cast off by the Lord forever.
Though he brings grief, he will show compassion,
so great is his unfailing love.
For he does not willingly bring affliction or grief to anyone.”

🌿 Stillness Moment: When Correction Was Love

Take a deep breath.

Let your shoulders drop.

Close your eyes if you’re able.

Now gently ask yourself:

When was a time I thought something was unfair…but later realized it protected me?

Sit with that memory.

Was it a parent?
A closed door?
A hard “no?”
A consequence you didn’t understand at the time?

Notice what you feel now as you look back.

Can you see the protection in it?
The compassion behind it?

Now shift your focus to your present life.

Is there an area where God has said, “not this way?”
A season where something didn’t work out?
A correction that stung?

Instead of asking Why is this happening to me?
Whisper: What might You be protecting me from?

Rest there.

You do not serve a God who delights in your discomfort.
You serve a Father whose love is so great that He will interrupt your plans to preserve your future.

Sit in that truth.

Let it steady you.

When you’re ready, simply breathe out this prayer in your heart:

Lord, help me trust that Your correction is compassion.

And remain still for a moment longer.

Perhaps today, what feels like loss…
what feels like limitation…
what feels like a firm hand guiding you elsewhere…

is simply God protecting what you cannot yet see.

He does not willingly bring grief.
He does not delight in affliction.

He corrects because He loves.
He guides because He sees.
He intervenes because you matter.

And just like a Father watching from the porch…
He is closer than you think.

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Closing Prayer

Heavenly Father,

Thank You for loving us enough to correct us.

Thank You for the moments You stepped in when we did not understand the danger… when we thought we knew better… when our plans seemed harmless in our own eyes.

Forgive us for the times we have mistaken Your protection for punishment.
Forgive us for calling restraint rejection.

Your Word tells us that You do not cast off forever, that even when there is grief, compassion follows, and that You do not willingly bring affliction (Lamentations 3:31–33, NIV). Help us believe that. Help us rest in that.

Give us hearts that trust Your interruptions.
Give us eyes to see Your compassion behind correction.
Give us peace when You redirect our steps.

May we never forget that Your discipline flows from unfailing love.

Teach us to receive it with humility, gratitude, and trust.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Leona