What Changes When We Trust God’s Character?

All month we have been digging deeper into why we think the things we do about God. Whether it’s because we assign human characteristics to Him or we hold on to things that happened that didn’t actually have anything to do with God, our experiences can shape how we see Him.

But as we close this series, I want to ask a different question:

What would change if we trusted God to be who He said He was and do the things He said He was going to do?

That sounds amazing, but it also requires us to relinquish the control that we often want to hold on to. Trust is about letting some things go and allowing God room to work things out for us.

If God says He is an ever-present help, what would change if we actually believed we didn’t have to figure everything out by ourselves?

If God says He will direct our paths, what would change if we stopped demanding to see the entire route before taking the next step?

If God says He can do exceedingly and abundantly above all we can ask or imagine, what would change if we stopped limiting our prayers to what seems realistic to us?

And if God says no weapon formed against us will prosper, what would change if we stopped treating every difficult season like proof that something has gone wrong?

Trusting God’s character doesn’t mean life suddenly becomes easy. It doesn’t mean we always understand what He is doing. It means that when we don’t understand what He is doing, we can still trust who He is.

That’s the difference.

We spend so much time trying to predict outcomes, protect ourselves from disappointment, and prepare for every possible scenario. Sometimes we call it wisdom, but sometimes it’s really our attempt to maintain control.

Trust says, I can do what God has asked me to do and leave the outcome with Him.

That kind of trust gives us peace because everything isn’t riding on our ability to get it right. It gives us hope because what we can see isn’t the limit of what God can do. It gives us confidence because God’s promises aren’t based on how we feel that day.

God doesn’t exaggerate. He doesn’t make promises He can’t keep. He isn’t like people who change their minds, hold grudges, withdraw their love, or say things they don’t mean.

He is who He says He is.

Maybe the work isn’t convincing God to show us that He can be trusted. Maybe the work is learning to release everything we’ve allowed to convince us that He can’t.

And then living like we believe Him.

Until next time,

Dominique

Why Does God Feel Distant?

Scripture tells us that God doesn’t move. He is our ever-present help. But why does it sometimes feel like our prayers are hitting the ceiling?

How can an ever-present God seem silent when we need Him most?

And maybe the bigger question is: What do we assume about God when He is silent?

We tend to fill silence with our own explanations.

God must not be listening.

Maybe He doesn’t care.

Maybe I did something wrong.

Maybe He’s disappointed in me.

But God’s silence doesn’t necessarily mean God’s absence.

Our feelings are real, but they aren’t always accurate indicators of God’s presence. Scripture tells us that God will never leave us or forsake us (Hebrews 13:5). Psalm 46:1 describes Him as “an ever-present help in trouble.”

So when I feel like God is distant, I have to decide which one I’m going to trust: what I’m feeling in the moment or what God has already told me about Himself.

There also isn’t one explanation for why God sometimes seems quiet.

Could there be times when God isn’t giving us a new answer because He’s asking us to walk in what He’s already shown us?

Think about a good teacher. A teacher doesn’t give students the answer every time they struggle with a problem. Eventually, the teacher expects them to use what they’ve already been taught. The teacher hasn’t abandoned them. The teacher has equipped them.

Maybe sometimes we’re asking God to tell us something new when He’s saying, I’ve already given you what you need for this.

Other times, He may be developing our patience or teaching us to trust Him without constant reassurance.

And sometimes, we simply won’t know why He seems quiet.

That’s where knowing God’s character becomes so important.

When God feels distant, we have to resist filling His silence with assumptions about His character.

If I don’t know why God is quiet, I can still know who God is.

I know He is good.

I know He loves me.

I know He hears me.

I know He has promised not to leave me.

I know His character doesn’t change just because my circumstances have.

Maybe faith isn’t always hearing God’s voice clearly or understanding exactly what He’s doing. Sometimes faith is continuing to trust what God has already said when He isn’t saying anything new.

So the next time God feels distant, instead of immediately asking, “God, where are You?” maybe we can also ask:

“What do I already know about You that is still true right now?”

His silence doesn’t get to redefine His character.

His Word already told us who He is.

Until next time,

Dominique

What If God Isn’t Silent?

Have you ever felt like your prayers were hitting the ceiling?

You keep asking.
You keep waiting.
You keep wondering if God is listening at all.

I’ve been there.

I first asked this question on the blog in 2020.

When I was praying to get pregnant, there were days I wondered if God had forgotten about me. I wasn’t questioning His ability—I was questioning His timing. Every unanswered prayer felt like silence.

But over time, I started asking a different question.

What if God isn’t silent? What if He’s waiting for me to pay attention?

What if the purpose of an unanswered prayer isn’t simply to delay an answer, but to deepen the relationship? We often approach prayer looking for information—What should I do? When will this happen? Why won’t You answer me?—while God is often more concerned with transformation. Sometimes the waiting reveals what we trust, what we’re holding onto, where we’re resisting Him, or whether we’re willing to follow Him before we have all the details. Instead of asking only, “God, why aren’t You answering me?” we might also ask, “God, what are You trying to grow in me while I wait?” That question doesn’t replace our prayers for answers, but it reminds us that God is just as interested in shaping our hearts as He is in changing our circumstances.

Sometimes we assume an unanswered prayer means God isn’t speaking. But throughout Scripture, we see that God often uses waiting to do work in us before He changes what’s around us.

Maybe He’s already answered, but it wasn’t the answer you wanted.

Maybe He’s asking you to take a step of obedience before revealing the next one.

Maybe He’s gently convicting you of something you’ve been avoiding because He loves you too much to leave you there.

Maybe He’s inviting you to spend time with Him instead of only bringing Him a list of requests.

Maybe He’s changing your heart so your desires begin to look more like His.

Or maybe…it’s simply not time yet.

Waiting is one of the hardest parts of following God because it requires trust when we don’t have clarity. We want answers. God often offers His presence first.

That doesn’t mean every unanswered prayer is the result of something you’ve done wrong. Sometimes the answer really is “wait.” Sometimes it’s “not yet.” Sometimes it’s “I have something better.” We should be careful not to assume every delay is punishment.

But unanswered prayers are an opportunity to ask honest questions.

Lord, is there anything You want to show me while I wait?

That question changed the way I prayed.

Instead of assuming God was distant, I started looking for what He might be teaching me. Sometimes He revealed an area where I needed to trust Him more. Other times He reminded me that His timing has never been late, even when it felt slow.

One of my favorite prayers comes from Mark 9:24:

“Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief.”

God isn’t intimidated by honest faith. He would rather you bring Him your doubts than pretend you don’t have any.

If you’ve been waiting on an answer, don’t assume heaven is quiet. Keep praying. Keep listening. Keep walking in obedience with what you already know.

The God who hears your prayers also knows the right time to answer them.

Reflection: Instead of asking, “Why hasn’t God answered me?” try asking, “What might God be teaching me while I wait?”

Until next time,

Dominique

Is God tired of my prayer?

It’s a thought many of us have had but don’t always say out loud.

“I’ve prayed about this so many times.”

“Maybe I should stop asking.”

“Maybe God is tired of hearing the same prayer.”

If you’ve ever wondered that, you’re not alone.

But Scripture doesn’t give us a picture of a God who grows impatient with His children. It gives us a picture of a God who invites us to keep coming to Him.

Isaiah 40:28 reminds us:

“The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of all the earth. He never grows weak or weary.”

If God never grows weary, then He doesn’t grow weary of you either.

Jesus even told a parable about a persistent widow to teach His disciples that they should always pray and not give up (Luke 18:1-8). Her persistence wasn’t a nuisance—it was an example.

Prayer isn’t something God tolerates.

It’s something He invites.

Sometimes we treat prayer like submitting a request. We ask once and then wonder if we should bring it up again. But prayer is a conversation, and conversations don’t end after one sentence.

As we continue to pray, something begins to happen.

We become more consistent.

Our prayers become more specific.

We notice where we’re trusting God and where we’re still trying to carry things ourselves.

That doesn’t mean the answer always comes when we want it to. But staying in conversation with God is never wasted.

So what do you do when you feel like you’ve asked too many times?

Pray again.

Not because God forgot.

Not because He needs convincing.

But because He told us to “pray without ceasing” (1 Thessalonians 5:17).

God isn’t rolling His eyes when you come to Him with the same burden.

He’s listening.

The next time you’re tempted to think, “I’ve already prayed about this,” don’t let that stop you.

Instead, let it remind you that God is always ready to hear from His children.

Keep praying.

Keep trusting.

Don’t give up.

Reflection: Is there a prayer you’ve stopped praying because you assumed God was tired of hearing it?

Is God Mad at Me?

I first asked this question on the blog in 2021.

The years leading up to that post were filled with highs and lows. My husband and I were struggling with infertility, life felt uncertain, and I found myself asking a question that I think many Christians quietly wrestle with:

“Is God mad at me?”

I wasn’t asking because I wanted an excuse for my behavior. I genuinely wondered if I had done something wrong. Was God punishing me? Had I disappointed Him? Was He withholding something because of my mistakes?

Since then, I’ve had countless conversations with friends and readers who have asked the same thing.

Maybe not with those exact words, but close enough.

“I think God is punishing me.”

“Maybe this is happening because of what I did.”

“I feel like God is getting me back.”

I’ve realized this question usually doesn’t come after a season of rebellion. It comes after a hard season.

A prayer goes unanswered.

A relationship falls apart.

You keep struggling with the same sin.

Life isn’t going the way you expected.

When we’re hurting, we often interpret God through our circumstances instead of His character.

But Psalm 103 paints a very different picture of God.

“The Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in steadfast love… He does not treat us as our sins deserve… As far as the east is from the west, so far has He removed our transgressions from us.”

Those aren’t the words of a God looking for reasons to push us away. They’re the words of a God who delights in showing mercy.

What’s even more remarkable is who wrote them.

David.

A man who committed adultery, arranged a murder to cover it up, and experienced the painful consequences of his sin. Yet after experiencing both conviction and forgiveness, David still described God as compassionate, gracious, and abounding in love.

That tells me something important.

God’s correction is real, but His character never changes.

We often assume God responds the way people do. We expect Him to hold grudges, withdraw His love, or wait for us to earn our way back.

But God is not like us.

He is holy. He is just. He is compassionate, gracious, and faithful. His desire isn’t to shame us into hiding. It’s to draw us back into relationship with Him.

That doesn’t mean there are never consequences for our choices. Scripture is clear that there are. But consequences are not the same as rejection.

So if you’ve been wondering whether God is mad at you, don’t let your feelings answer that question.

Start with His character.

And if you’re wondering how to learn His character, start with His Word.

You don’t have to read the entire Bible in a week. Start by finding someone whose story feels familiar to yours.

When I couldn’t get pregnant, I studied the women in Scripture who struggled with infertility. I wanted to see how God responded to them. I wasn’t just looking for answers to my situation—I was learning about the God who walked with them through it.

The more you know God’s character, the less likely you are to assume the worst about Him when life gets hard.

Reflection: When life gets difficult, what is your first assumption about God? Is it based on your circumstances, or on what Scripture says about His character?

The enemy wants you to question God’s character. Scripture invites you to know it.

Until next time,

Dominique

January 28


I actually wrote the post March 29 on Jan 28. It was 60 days in the future. I was prophesying over my own life. Putting in the atmosphere to myself and God how I wanted to feel and here we are almost 6 months later and it’s working. There have been hard times in there but I’m handling them better. I’m becoming stronger, more resilient, more open. We are about to get into the summer season and that’s usually where I get off track but I’m still getting things done. I’m having fun, as you are reading this post I’m at the beach but now I can do both. I’m not letting anything distract me and I am seeing the fruit of my labor. Im proud of me and excited to see what the second half of the year brings.

Until next time,

Dominique

Who Am I When Nobody Needs Me?

“Who am I when I am not needed?”

My cousin sent me this question, and I didn’t have an answer.

Being needed can feel noble. It can feel like ministry. It can even feel spiritual. But sometimes being needed becomes a substitute for intimacy with God.

We can become so focused on helping others that we never stop to ask who we are apart from what we do for them.

God may be trying to teach us:

  • to be confident without being the rescuer
  • to be wise without needing an audience
  • to be spiritual without needing a role
  • to be valuable without being depended on

It’s interesting because nobody wants to be the person who always needs help. We often encourage people to become more independent, more resilient, and more capable. Yet lately, I’ve been asking myself what it looks like to no longer be the person who is always giving the help.

Am I stepping into a role that belongs to God?

Am I rescuing people when Jesus is inviting them to trust Him?

Am I making myself responsible for problems that were never mine to carry?

The reality is that constantly helping isn’t always healthy for the helper or the person being helped. When relationships become one-sided, resentment can quietly grow. Good intentions can turn into enabling. Support can become a crutch.

Sometimes the most loving thing we can do is step back and allow people to develop their own faith, make their own decisions, and experience God’s faithfulness for themselves.

Our value was never meant to come from being needed. It comes from being loved by God.

Maybe the question isn’t, “Who am I when nobody needs me?”

Maybe the better question is, “Who am I when God is enough?”

Who could I become if I stopped measuring my value by how much I help others? What dreams, gifts, and callings might have room to grow if I directed that energy elsewhere?

Food for thought: Where might you be if you decided to help a little less?

Until next time,

Dominique

Parenting yourself as a parent

As I think about Mother’s Day, I keep thinking about how important it is to parent yourself too.

Because parenting is not just about how you engage with your kids.

It’s also about how you engage with yourself.

It’s about how you speak to yourself after a hard morning.
How you recover after you lose your patience.
How you respond when you don’t measure up to the standard you created in your head.

Being somebody’s mom is hard.
Honestly, it’s the hardest role I’ve ever had.

Harder than being a wife.
Harder than being a daughter.
Harder than leading a team.
Harder than any title attached to a paycheck or applause.

Because motherhood exposes you.

It exposes your impatience.
Your need for control.
Your exhaustion.
Your expectations.
Your childhood wounds.
Your humanity.

And this is where walking with God daily matters.

Not just so you can parent your children well
but so you can parent yourself well too.

So you can give yourself grace.
So you can steady your emotions.
So you can take motherhood one day at a time instead of projecting ten years ahead.

So you can step back from:

All the expectations.
All the comparisons.
All the “shoulds.”
All the “this is how my parents did it.”

Walking with God daily reminds you that you are still being formed too.

You are not just raising a child.
God is raising you.

And sometimes the most mature thing you can do as a mother is:

Pause.
Pray.
Forgive yourself.
And try again tomorrow.

Parent yourself the way you parent your children.

With patience.
With correction and compassion.
With consistency instead of condemnation.

Because the grace you give yourself will overflow into the way you love your family.

Happy Mother’s Day to the women who keep showing up, growing, learning, repenting, loving, and trying again.

Until next time,

Dominique

Easter Reflections

This time of year can feel strange.

Easter reminds us of resurrection and new life, yet many of us quietly feel stuck—tired, restless, or dulled by routines we once prayed for. It’s easy to get used to our blessings. Familiarity settles in. Gratitude fades. And without realizing it, joy and peace feel harder to access.

The disciples knew that feeling.

They didn’t expect to lose Jesus the way they did. What they thought was secure was suddenly gone. Grief, confusion, and fear took over. And yet, what felt like loss became the doorway to something deeper. They didn’t just get Jesus back; they encountered Him in a new way.

Easter reminds us that what feels lost isn’t always gone forever. Joy can be recovered. Peace can be restored. Perspective can be renewed—often by remembering all that God has already done.

It’s possible to be surrounded by answers to prayer and still feel unsettled.

Not because something is wrong—but because time, pressure, and familiarity have a way of shifting our perspective.

What once felt sacred can quietly become assumed.

And without realizing it, we move from gratitude to restlessness.

Questions help us notice when that shift happens.

Have the goalposts moved without us naming it?

Have circumstances started to define whether what we prayed for is still “good”?

Have we mistaken the weight of responsibility for dissatisfaction?

Sometimes the ache we feel isn’t a signal to want more.

It’s an invitation to return.

Not to a moment, but to a posture.

To the trust we had when we asked.

To the gratitude we felt before outcomes were visible.

The way forward may not require something new.

It may simply ask us to pause, remember, and re-align our hearts with the God who already came through.

This might be the moment to pause, remember, and let gratitude lead again.

Happy Resurrection Sunday!

Until next time,

Dominique

What Fasting Taught Me

Fasting taught me to slow down and pay attention.

I became more aware of what I was taking in—and what was coming out. The thoughts I entertained. The words I spoke. I noticed how often I was thinking or saying things that weren’t beneficial or even necessary.

I also learned something important: inertia creates more inertia, but momentum does too. I was surprised by how much I could get done in just fifteen focused minutes once I started.

Hunger has a way of stripping life down to what’s essential. It sharpens your focus. It forces you to confront what really matters and what doesn’t. This fast felt like a jumpstart into a new season, a reset that made some things crystal clear.

Removing the internal clutter helped me see what needs my attention and what I need to release. It even changed how I thought about food. When you haven’t eaten all day, you don’t want to break your fast with pizza. You want something that will actually nourish you.

That’s how I want to live moving forward, more intentional about what I consume, what I produce, and what I allow to stay.

The practices I’m carrying into March:
• Slowing down enough to notice what’s shaping me
• Choosing nourishment over convenience, in my habits, my words, and my focus

This fast wasn’t just about abstaining. It was about alignment.

Until next time,

Dominique