Kim

Nanney

During a summer lake trip, I was climbing off a Sea-Doo—sunburned and dehydrated—and set my water bottle on the edge of the dock so I could tie up the watercraft. That’s when it happened.

My dad swung a fishing rod straight into my favorite water bottle.

I scrambled as it hit the surface, my hand outstretched as the bottle began to sink into the watery abyss. As it made its descent, I resigned myself to life without it, and braced myself for a lecture from my Dad, who had warned me to seal it. The seconds slugged by and the prospects of its return seemed dim.

But then, I caught a glint of white in the sunlight. Slowly—almost triumphantly—the bottle bobbed to the surface, completely intact. Turns out, it was sealed so carefully that the lake couldn’t get in.

That image lingered with me. When I later read Revelation, it struck me as an image of what it means to belong to God—completely surrounded, yet sealed and never overcome.

In this passage, the Apostle John describes a wave of judgment sweeping the earth, but those marked by God are protected from its power:

They were told not to harm the grass or plants or trees, but only the people who did not have the seal of God on their foreheads. (Revelation 9:4 NLT)

The concept of a protective seal echoes throughout Scripture. In Exodus, the Israelites brushed lamb’s blood across their doorposts as an act of trust and marking themselves as God’s own (see Exodus 12:7). The seal didn’t mean they escaped Egypt’s chaos; it meant they were covered in the midst of it. That same pattern of trust and protection reappears in Revelation, where the plagues return, but so does God’s mercy for those who are sealed as His.

The seal reminds me of when God told His people to wear the Shema—the command to love Him with all their heart, soul, and strength—on their foreheads in Deuteronomy 6:4-8.   Even today, observant Jewish men wear tefillin—Scripture-filled boxes tied around the arm and head—as a reminder of this passage.

Jesus affirmed this very command and lifted it as the greatest one:

“You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your mind.” This is the first and greatest commandment.” (Matthew 22:37-38)

That kind of love isn’t passive—it’s our response to the One who sealed us first. When we believe His words, as the Israelites did when they marked their doors with lamb’s blood, we show that we trust and love Him, but ultimately, it’s God who seals us.

In the same way, Jesus became our Passover Lamb. His blood marks us as His, and keeps us safe from eternal darkness.

I think back to that water bottle—completely engulfed, yet sealed and not overcome. If you’re feeling surrounded by darkness, remember: His seal still holds.

Let’s pray: Lord we thank You for Your great love—that Jesus shed His blood so that darkness will never overcome us, and we can be with You forever. Speak to us today, and tell us what we may do in reponse to Your love to show You our full love and gratitude. Thank You, Lord.

~

Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.

I’ve been chasing gold stars for as long as I can remember—stickers on homework, glowing remarks on job reviews, and later, A’s on college papers. Those stars were symbols of the hard work it takes to create something that shines. In a way, gold stars also reflect something deeper.

Real gold doesn’t come from easy wins; it comes from fire. It’s forged, refined, and made more beautiful through testing. Looking back, I can see that’s exactly what God was doing in me during college. When I entered an ethics class, which I thought would simply challenge my mind, it became the furnace where my faith was tested and refined like gold.

When debates about morality began—including whether long-standing biblical principles were still relevant—it became more than an academic test. It was a spiritual one.

In his letter to early believers facing their own kind of tests, Peter offered this reminder: “These trials will show that your faith is genuine. It is being tested as fire tests and purifies gold—though your faith is far more precious than mere gold” (1 Peter 1:7 NLT).

I love exploring analogies like gold in this passage because they reveal so much about God and over time I began to see how this image helped me make sense of the trial I faced in school.

Gold is the most stable of all metals; it doesn’t react with oxygen or water, so it’s known for being remarkably slow to tarnish. In other words, once purified, gold doesn’t lose its shine even in a toxic environment.

At the time, I didn’t connect the dots, but now I realize those class debates, where biblical morality wasn’t just dismissed but pulled apart and argued from every angle, it forced me not only to defend my faith but to decide if I truly believed it enough to live it.

Gold is also the most malleable metal. It can be stretched and beaten without breaking.

Peter knew what it was like to bend under pressure too. He once insisted he would never leave Jesus, then denied Him three times in one night. Yet later, Jesus restored him and entrusted him with new responsibility. Peter’s story reminds us that failure doesn’t end faith—it can refine it (see Luke 22:54-62, John 21:15-19).

In class, I decided God was more important than a gold star. I was willing to withdraw, fail, or even be mocked for my beliefs if that’s what it came to because I had come to see God’s way as not only right but the best way, and that kind of faith is worth more than gold, because it outshines every reward this world can give.

Looking back, I see that the class wasn’t designed to destroy me. It was designed to expose weak spots and burn away what wasn’t true—just as the Refiner’s fire does with gold, just as God does with us. I did earn an A, but more importantly, I believe I earned a gold star from God for standing firm in my faith that His ways are the best ways.

So, if you’re facing a season where you feel stretched thin, or enduring a toxic environment to your faith, trust that God’s got you. 

~

Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.  

During our family lake trip, my young nephew stood at the edge of a cliff, peering down into the deep water. The cliff didn't look that high from my vantage point, floating by our pontoon boat. Even though others already jumped, my nephew hesitated.

"You have to jump!” his mother instructed. “You’ll be fine.”

He shook his head, “But I'm scared!”

To give him courage, I climbed the rocky cliff to stand beside him. Yet as I looked down, the water looked like a black abyss a mile away. Suddenly, I felt the same fear.

“Why aren't you jumping?” he pressed.

“Give me a second!” I retorted and bowed my head in prayer.

My nephew whispered that maybe we should just walk back down instead. That path seemed safer.

But my dad called up, “The rocks are too slick. You have to jump!”

So, with another prayer, I leapt into the depths. The splash was loud, the water was cold, but I came up laughing. What looked like a frightening path turned out to be exhilarating. However, my nephew remained unconvinced.

Eventually, my cousin stepped in—as a dad of three sons, he was an expert. He lifted my nephew and safely dropped him. Although my nephew agreed to this plan, he shook his head in regret the entire way down, but when he came up, he was laughing, too.

Listening to my dad that day reminded me of what it's like to listen to my heavenly Father. God’s instructions can feel scary, or even counterintuitive.

In the Book of Jeremiah, King Zedekiah faced a decision to obey God’s voice when the path was terrifying. The king heard the word of the Lord through the prophet Jeremiah: if he surrendered, his city, his family, and his own life would be saved. But if he refused, they would be destroyed (see Jeremiah 38:17).  

Zedekiah's response?

“But I am afraid…” (Jeremiah 38:19 NLT) 

For years, instead of moving forward, King Zedekiah would not surrender. His fear outweighed his trust in God, and the results were devastating. Zedekiah lost all Jeremiah had warned him he would and more (see Jeremiah 39:1-9). 

Like King Zedekiah, we can hesitate so long—just as my nephew and I did on the cliff—that fear becomes our decision. We're tempted to take paths that seem easier but can make us slip and get hurt. But God sends us help. He gave us Jesus to lift us when fear leaves us frozen, just as He sent my nephew a father to get him safely into the water. Whether we leap on our own or we’re lifted by others, obey His voice.

My prayer is that when we hear His voice today, we’ll be open to do what He says and not harden our hearts (see Hebrews 3:15). May we have the courage to take the next step and experience the joy that comes following Him.

~

Scripture is quoted from the Holy Bible New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.  

When I got engaged, my diamond ring symbolized my love’s affection and marked an answered prayer. Every time I showed my ring—whether in a pic to my niece or my best friend—I shared more than news. I testified: “Come and see the works of God” (Psalm 66:5 NKJV).

Psalm 66 felt like my engagement-era soundtrack. But the more I read it, the more it challenged me. The Psalm takes a perplexing turn. The psalmist invited the world to bless God and “make the voice of His praise to be heard” (Psalm 66:8). But he didn’t just honor God for blessings. The psalmist looked back on hardships as reasons to praise.

“For You, O God; have tested us; You have refined us as silver is refined.” (Psalm 66:10)

How could I honestly thank God for refinement when it hurts and not fake it? While meditating on this, I glanced at my ring—something I do often. In that moment, something shifted. What if the silvery band could help me understand?

I researched silver refining. In ancient times, silver was first tested for impurities, then crushed, mixed with lead, roasted, separated, and purified until it mirrored its maker. That process didn’t just explain the verse—it reflected my whole engagement testimony. As I learned about silver, I saw how God, the Master Silversmith (Malachi 3:3), refined my heart to prepare it for holy matrimony—and why I can genuinely praise Him even when life burns.

Silver rarely appeared pure—an ancient silversmith crushed ore and mixed it with lead to draw out impurities before refinement.

Have you ever prayed and then ended up crushed and confused, like something got painfully mixed up instead of answered? That’s what happened to me. I prayed about my relationship and sought the Lord’s voice through Scripture. When I felt certain He’d shown me the one, the guy broke up with me. I felt shattered and mixed up. But looking back, I see how God used that bewildering pain to break my heart open and begin something deeper—just like crushed ore prepared for purification.

After mixing in lead, the silversmith heated the ore until impurities rose to the surface. He continually separated the dross, roasting the metal until it became mirror-like.

That’s exactly what God did within me. I kept anxiously checking my phone, waiting for a text, and hoping my man would say something to settle my heart. One day, I realized I turned to my phone for comfort more than to God. That’s when my impurity rose to the surface; I had made romance my god—my idol.

I repented. Bit by bit, I yielded, the Holy Spirit’s fire burned away the impurities, and God became my first love. And when He did, I could love my man better. When the Lord brought us back together, my heart reflected more of my Maker’s patient and kind character.

Even now, my heart’s not done yet. But here’s another lesson from silver: it stays soft and malleable. It can be reheated, refined, and reshaped. So, if your marriage feels like scraps, your dating life burns, or your single season crushes, let a ring—worn or awaited—remind you: the Master Silversmith forges you to reflect Himself. And He can remake you again and again. We can praise Him in the fire, trusting He uses it to purify our hearts to reflect His pure love.

In faith, let’s declare this verse together as your testimony: “Praise God, who did not ignore my prayer  or withdraw his unfailing love from me.” (Psalm 66:20 NLT). Amen!

~

Scripture is taken from the New King James Version unless otherwise noted. Copyright 1982 by Thomas Nelson. Used by permission. All rights reserved. 

Scripture quotations as noted are taken from the Holy Bible New Living Translation, copyright 1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.