If you’ve ever felt like you should know how to study the Bible but just weren’t sure where to begin, you’re in the right place. In this space, I share practical, Spirit-led teachings and tips to help you study with confidence, apply truth in real life, and reconnect with the heart of God through Scripture.
Psalm 63 was written in the desert. Not the metaphorical kind.
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Reader, Three weeks of mornings given to the Word. You may not feel the cumulative weight of that yet — but something is shifting in you, whether you can name it or not. The Psalms that felt like ancient poetry at the beginning of June are starting to feel like language. Language for things you've been carrying that you didn't have words for before. That is not accidental. That is the Word doing what only the Word can do when you give it consistent, unhurried access to your heart. Last week, we watched David worship from a cave before the rescue came. The seed we planted: the names we give God in hard seasons are the ground we stand on when everything else feels unstable. This week, that seed grows a layer deeper. We're in Psalms 63–68, and Psalm 63 opens with one of the most honest lines in all of Scripture. David wrote it from the wilderness of Judah — literally displaced, cut off from the temple, separated from the corporate worship that had anchored his life. And instead of performing a faith he didn't feel, he named exactly what his soul was experiencing. "My soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water." — Psalm 63:1 But he doesn't stop at the longing. He remembers. "When I remember you upon my bed, and meditate on you in the watches of the night — for you have been my help." — Psalm 63:6–7 Remembrance is the bridge between longing and worship. David couldn't feel God's nearness the way he once had. But he could remember it. And that remembrance was enough to carry him into praise before the feeling returned. That is the seed for this week. When you cannot feel God's nearness, remember His faithfulness. The memory carries you until the feeling catches up. Watch this week's first teaching video before you open Psalm 63 Read, watch, listen, write. June is halfway over — let the weekend be your time to linger in what God has been saying before July arrives. Don't Miss This Week's Training!Add it to your favorite calendar tool
P.S. If your journal is in your hands — you already know what it means to write the Word and have it write back. If it hasn't arrived yet, there's still time — wordandseed.com/summer |
You don’t have to be a Bible scholar to read the Bible—just a student of the Word.!
If you’ve ever felt like you should know how to study the Bible but just weren’t sure where to begin, you’re in the right place. In this space, I share practical, Spirit-led teachings and tips to help you study with confidence, apply truth in real life, and reconnect with the heart of God through Scripture.
Reader, This is it. Psalms 97–100 are waiting for you — and I want you to open them slowly this week. Not because they're difficult. But because they deserve the same unhurried attention you gave Psalm 51 on the first morning of June. You began this journey on the floor with David — reaching for God from the wreckage of his choices, asking for something that didn't yet exist in him. And this week, you arrive at a crescendo. Every thread this summer has carried — repentance, refuge, worship,...
Reader, One week to go. August is almost here — and with it comes that particular feeling of a summer well spent. Not rushed through. Not wasted. Spent. Intentionally, morning by morning, one Psalm at a time. What you have done over these 49 days is worth naming before we open the final full week of this journey. You chose the Word consistently — even on the days when the discipline cost more than the inspiration gave. That kind of faithfulness forms something in you that goes deeper than any...
Reader, Seven weeks. The finish line is close enough to see from here. Before we open this week's Psalms, I want to name something quietly. The summer that felt long in June is starting to feel finite. August is closer than it seemed. And there's something about the last stretch of anything that invites a particular kind of attention — a slowing down, a noticing, a willingness to let what has been growing in you actually land before the season closes. Last week, we sat with the sons of Korah...