Encourage, Equip, Empower

Each month our very own amazing writers from South Texas publish a series of blog posts written with you in mind. Our desire is to encourage, equip, and empower you through stories, experiences, and insights from our writers and from God’s Word.

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  • Joy Beyond Understanding

    “ But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law.” Galatians 5:22-23 Summertime in the South is not for the faint of heart. Temperatures that soar to unbearable heights, iced tea that can’t seem to stay iced, and leather car interior that is torture whenever you get in…

  • Peace in a Wild Workplace

     I do not work in a church.  I am involved in ministry full-time, but I also work a secular job to provide for my family.  I don’t care where you work, whether it be in a church or out; if you work with people, it can be difficult.   Feeling called to ministry, I have asked…

  • Peace In the Wild

    When I think about the phrase “peace in the wild,” I picture a leopardess in the middle of a jungle. I imagine the sound of monkeys hooting in the background while she cleans her paws. She’s laying down, feeling peaceful, she’s not worried about where her next meal will come from. She’s not anxious about…

  • The Thorns In My Mind

    Photo by Photo By: Kaboompics.com on Pexels.com

    I’m going to be honest, I can’t remember who on our blog team suggested the topic of mental health for this month. But whether by divine appointment or by coincidence, I’m grateful for the opportunity, because this conversation is long overdue in the church.

    I’ve long been an advocate for open and honest discussions about mental health, especially in Christian spaces. Not because it’s easy, and certainly not because I have it all figured out—but because for the first half of my life, I carried a deep, hidden shame about the very real struggles I faced.

    At 8 years old, I was diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder. By 11, I confessed to desiring death more than life and was admitted to an inpatient facility for children. That’s not a story you often hear from the pulpit. But it’s mine. And I know it’s not just mine.

    Growing up in the church, I was taught—either explicitly or subtly—that the pain I felt was spiritual failure. That my depression was proof of a weak faith, an absence of the Holy Spirit, or even evidence that I had never truly been saved. I was told, either in words or in implications, that if I really loved Jesus, I wouldn’t feel this way. If I were really forgiven, I would have the “joy, joy, joy, joy, down in my heart.” But I didn’t.

    These well-meaning but misguided messages left me feeling not just broken, but spiritually defective. Not just hurt—but unholy. I believed I was a disappointment to the people around me and to God Himself.

    So I did what many of us learn to do: I faked it.

    “How are you doing, sister?”
    “Blessed and highly favored!”

    I smiled through clenched teeth, masking my pain with forced cheerfulness. And as soon as the conversation ended, the smile faded. Because now, I wasn’t just depressed—I was a liar. I was fake. I was a fraud.

    As a teenager, I started and stopped taking medication, riding the exhausting roller coaster of slight improvement, false confidence, relapse, and self-harm. At times, I felt hopeless enough to try and end it all. And yet—God did not let go of me.

    I am now 41 years old. Still walking with Jesus. Still taking medication. Still carrying this “thorn in my flesh,” as Paul describes in 2 Corinthians 12:7. And still declaring the faithfulness of God.

    Paul writes:

    “Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.” (2 Corinthians 12:8–9)

    This verse has become a lifeline for me. It reminds me that the presence of a struggle does not mean the absence of God. That His grace is not withheld because I hurt—it’s made perfect in the hurt. Mental illness does not cancel out salvation, nor does it negate the presence of the Holy Spirit. The same God who knit me together in my mother’s womb (Psalm 139:13) also knows the intricate, complex wiring of my mind. He sees it all, and He calls it wonderfully made.

    I am fearfully and wonderfully made. That truth doesn’t disappear just because I take medication for my brain any more than when I take medicine for diabetes. My reliance on medicine does not compete with my reliance on God. They work together. I believe God, in His goodness, has given us tools—medical, therapeutic, spiritual—to steward our minds and bodies for His glory.

    We need to stop equating mental health struggles with spiritual weakness. The Bible is full of God’s people crying out in despair. Elijah asked God to take his life (1 Kings 19:4). David, the man after God’s own heart, wrote psalms that say things like:

    “Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me?” (Psalm 42:11)
    “Darkness is my closest friend.” (Psalm 88:18)

    These were not godless men. They were beloved, called, and human.

    I believe it is time for the Church to break the silence and shame surrounding mental illness. Not with platitudes, but with compassion. Not with shame, but with support. Not by telling people to “pray it away,” but by walking with them through their valleys, reminding them they are not alone. Reminding them that Jesus Himself was “a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief” (Isaiah 53:3).

    If you are struggling, hear me: You are not broken beyond repair. You are not faithless. You are not alone. Your pain does not make you less valuable in the Kingdom—it makes you a living testimony of God’s sustaining grace. Jesus does not shy away from your wounds. He steps into them.

    And if you are walking with someone who is struggling, remember the power of presence. Sometimes, the most Christlike thing you can do is simply sit with someone in their pain without trying to fix it.

    This is my story. It’s messy. It’s painful. And it’s not over. But in every chapter, Jesus has been faithful. Not because I am strong, but because He is.

    So, as we talk about mental health this month, let’s do it with gentleness, truth, and the unwavering hope of the Gospel. Let’s remind each other that even in the darkness, light still shines. And that nothing—not depression, not shame, not even our lowest moments—can separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord (Romans 8:38–39).

    I believe the faith of those who struggle with mental illness is audacious. It is no small thing to follow God when your own mind is warring against you. It is a bold, defiant act of faith to wake up each day and choose to believe in the goodness of God when your thoughts are screaming otherwise. To declare the promises of Scripture over yourself—I am loved, I am chosen, I am not alone—while your mind whispers lies of worthlessness and despair, is a kind of faith that often goes unseen but is deeply powerful. It is not weak faith but courageous, gritty, tenacious faith. The kind that keeps showing up in the dark, lifting shaky hands in worship, and saying, “Even so, I will trust You.” That is not a lesser faith. That is a faith that reflects the very heart of Christ in Gethsemane, a faith that bleeds, weeps, and still obeys.

    Mental Health Resources are available at https://www.stxagwm.org/mental-health and if you are in crisis you can visit your nearest emergency room or call 988 24 hours a day for live help.

    Tracie Tevault is a recent addition to the STXWM blog team. Married for 15 years to her best friend, Tracie is raising one awesome son and three spoiled cats. With a heart for ministry, Tracie has served in many areas, but her true passion lies in reaching those who might not fit the traditional church mold. She’s all about showing people they are loved, valued, and created with a purpose.

  • The God Who Sees Me: Combating the Stigma Surrounding Mental Health Care

    Photo by bach hanzo on Pexels.com

    Have you ever felt “unseen” in your struggles with mental health care?  This is exactly how I felt as I walked with my mom through her mental illness.  The unsolicited (and unhelpful) advice is often free-flowing:

    “You should get out more.”

    “Take up a hobby.  I bet that will do the trick.”

    “It’s because you are not eating right.”

    “You just need some rest, that’s all.  You’ll be fine if you can get a good night’s sleep.”

    “I know exactly what you’re going through.  It was really rough for me when my cat died.”

    She tried it all.  Anything that was suggested to her.  She tried.  None of it helped.  

    What did help?  The doctors, therapies, and the medication.  The transformation was miraculous.  One time my dad said, “It was like I dropped this other lady off at the hospital and your mom finally came home to us.”  But no one seemed to want her to be healthy that way.,

    Everyone seemed to have something to say about it, especially about her faith:

    “You must not be praying enough.”  

    “Taking medication is a lack of faith.  God wants to heal you but you have to stop treatment so He can.”  

    “It’s all spiritual.”

    It kept happening over and over.  And every time I heard someone say those words to my mother my heart would sink.  It was going to get bad again.  It has been good for a while now.  Why couldn’t people just leave her alone?  It wasn’t just her.  They would blame my dad too.

    “The wife is a reflection of the husband.  If you were taking care of her properly this would not be happening.”  

    “You must not love her enough.”

    “God would never let this happen to real Christian people.”

    Dad came home and for the next several days he fasted and prayed…..every time this happened.  

    He and my mother wanted nothing more than to live lives that were pleasing to God.  How were they being displeasing to Him?   What were they doing wrong?  It had to be something.  So many people kept saying that it must be their fault.  A loving God wouldn’t do this to us so it must be something we are doing.  Some of their comments made me wonder if maybe it was my fault….

    “You need to be easier on your mom.”

    “She’s under enough strain and having to deal with you two is more than she can handle.”  

    “You need to help her more.”

    Maybe it was me.  Maybe it was my fault.  I worked at the church and helped out at home.  I tried not to argue with my brother or give my parents a hard time.  But maybe I could be doing more…..or something different……

    No one seemed to know why it was our fault, just that it was.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Hagar was an outsider among Abram’s people.  She was not among the chosen nation that God was building as a part of His promise to make Abram the father of God’s people, Israel.  She was an Egyptian servant.  She very likely served other gods but she knew of Yahweh because of her years of service in the home of Abram and Sarai.  

    Yahweh had told them to move and they moved.  Yahweh had promised a baby and they had believed but that had been a long time ago.  Now, here she was, alone in the wilderness; pregnant and scared (Genesis 16).  

    I am well aware that this Bible story is not about mental illness but it is one in which I have seen and come to understand God since I was a young teenager.  Hagar called Him “El Roi” (The God who sees me) and she named her son “Ishmael” (God hears).

    She was an outsider but God saw her, heard her and came looking for her.  She did not even call out to Him but He found her and came to the place of her need.  

    My hope today is that you feel seen and heard.  That you know that you are not alone.  I hope that you know that God does want to heal you and that He gave us the gift of doctors and medication.  He implores us in His word to seek wisdom and follow it.  He is not absent because you seek help.  It is an answer to your prayers.

    You are perfectly known and loved by God.  Hear me again.  You are perfectly known and loved by God right now, exactly as you are.  He is not ashamed of you.    

    Restoration, healing and promise are God’s to give in His way.  Others have no power to tell you what that looks like or when it is coming.  And others do not need to understand. 

    If you know my family, you may see a situation in which it is sometimes difficult to see promise, restoration or healing but if you had walked this road with the Lord and me you would know that I can see His hand all along the way.  He is in control now and always has been and He is the God who sees and hears us.  We are not alone.  

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    What is stigma?  According to Webster’s dictionary it is “a set of negative and unfair beliefs that a society or group of people have about something; a mark of shame or discredit.

    When was the last time you heard of a person with cancer being told to try essential oils, drink a special tea or just take a walk in nature to cure what ails them?  Or better yet, “just calm down.”

    I wonder why these things rarely get said to a person with a broken bone or a cancerous tumor.  I wonder why it is said most often when the mind or the heart are diseased.  Why must we be ashamed when we need a practitioner for our brains or body chemistry but not when we need one for our bones or our blood?

    What physical ailments allow an employer to deny someone work when they are capable as long as they are cooperating with treatment?  Should I not be allowed to work if I wear glasses because I need the glasses to function?

    If you think that these things are not a real problem for those living with mental illness then I contend that you are blessed to have never experienced it.  For that I am truly happy for you but I also implore you to use that blessing to become part of the solution for those who have not been so blessed in that way.

    Everyday in this country (maybe in others too) those who live with mental illness struggle with the harmful effects of societal and familial stigma that forces them into secrecy in order to continue to participate in those spaces without detection.  This secrecy often pushes them away from treatment and into shame.  Without the treatment that is necessary to maintain a healthy and stable life, they are then ostracized by the very community that shamed them out of treatment in the first place when they are unable to maintain an acceptable social equilibrium.

    What can we do?

    First of all, we can pray.  I am a firm believer in the healing power of our God.  I also believe that He will guide and direct our paths when we do not know what to do.  He also wants to guide our words so that we can walk with our brothers and sisters into life and freedom and not into shame and fear.

    Next, when we don’t know what to say, that might be our cue to listen.  It is tempting when we are uncomfortable to just stay silent or to offer advice but I encourage you to hear and seek to understand.

    Finally, we can learn.  Many people are uncomfortable with information about mental illness because they are themselves uninformed.  Look to reputable medical and mental health resources to understand.  We can be the hands and feet of Jesus when we help others to know the God that sees them.

    As we enter Mother’s Day weekend, I am leaning on God for strength and peace because this year has not been a good one for my family.  I am not able to have a relationship with my mom right now and it breaks my heart but God…. 

    He is faithful in every season and sees us in our lowest moments for the daughters that we are, not for the pain or confusion that can sometimes cloud our view. 

    In this season of my life, I have a wonderful Christian mental health practitioner that I see once a week.  She guides me with medical training to overcome the pain and fear that I struggle with having been diagnosed with Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder about 10 years ago.  She has been a gift from God to help me walk closer with Him and help me become the best mom, friend, sister, daughter, and minister I can be on this side of Heaven. 

    I am a patient diagnosed and receiving treatment for a mental health disorder.  If you have questions or need support, I would love to talk with you.  Thank you for allowing me to share with you, my sisters.  


    Mental Health Resources are available at https://www.stxagwm.org/mental-health and if you are in crisis you can visit your nearest emergency room or call 988 24 hours a day for live help.

    Stephanie Sharp is a teacher, a writer, a musician and an ordained minister.  She is also a divorced, single mother of 3 teenagers.  She writes for the South Texas Women’s Ministries Blog and founded a ministry for ladies walking through divorce and single motherhood called The Well.  You can contact Stephanie at thewellwm@gmail.com.

  • Don’t Cry Over Spilled Water: Learning to Ask for Help

    I’m sure you’re familiar with the phrase, “Don’t cry over spilled milk.” This idiom suggests that it isn’t worth the time or energy to be upset or dwell on the past. What’s happened has happened, and all you can do now is clean it up. This would have been great advice back on Sunday, January 3rd, 2021, after I spilled my water in a crowded restaurant, while celebrating my mother-in-law’s birthday. Allow me to tell you a story of a young mother slowly getting into the swing of things after losing a year of her life due to the world shutting down. Her emotions were high that day, and she didn’t realize that she was about to BLOW! This is my story.

    It was the beginning of a new year, and we decided to go out after church and celebrate my mother-in-law’s birthday. It was all four parents, my husband, myself, and baby in tow. I always looked forward to our family lunches. We entered the crowded restaurant, which made no sense to me because we just went through a worldwide pandemic. But here we are not even a year later, and I’m having to claim my personal space. The waitress takes us to this teeny tiny booth that miraculously seated all seven of us. I excuse my daughter and I to the nearby restroom.

    She was about 18 months around this time. She was eating solids, and this meant more work for mama when packing up her diaper bag. Instead of checking for her bottles, formula, and water, I had to make sure she had plates, bowls, sippy cups, and silverware. Looking back on it now, I probably didn’t have to bring all these items, but I was new to this mothering gig. We get back to the table, and I have her in her little seat (something else that I made sure to pack). Our waitress starts passing out drinks. I try to listen to the conversation at the table, but I can’t help but notice my baby waving her arms around her cup. I immediately jump into Mom Mode and reached across the table to move the cup out of the way. But alas, as I’m reaching to help prevent her from spilling her water, I end up spilling my own. What happened next is somewhat of a blur.

    I slammed my hand on the table in disgust and then got incredibly embarrassed because I just made a scene and my whole family is now staring at me. I quickly run back to the bathroom where I lock myself in a stall and cry uncontrollably. After several attempts to leave the stall, I finally gained enough willpower to push through my emotions, just enough to tell my husband that I needed to go home. I apologized for my outburst, and proceeded outside where I sat on a bench and continued to cry. That’s all I could do at that moment.

    If you travel by airplane, you’ll notice that when the flight attendant is going over the pre-flight safety procedures, they say in the case of an emergency, always adjust and secure your own oxygen mask, before assisting others. Why is this important? Because you could become unconscious and be useless to everyone around you. Unfortunately, this is where I was at. I was a walking zombie, trying to be a good mother, wife, pastor and losing consciousness while assisting others. To be honest, this incident was my wake-up call to take better care of my mental health. I was so concerned with my daughter’s needs that I had neglected my own. I had already recognized I was dealing with postpartum depression, but I didn’t know how to take care of it. You never want to admit you need help or confess that something is wrong, but most of the time it’s needed, especially when you’re suffering from depression and anxiety.

    Did you know that God is no stranger to life’s burdens?

    Matthew 11:28-  “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

    Reading this scripture as a kid, I always imagined Jesus holding up an egg and cracking it over a frying pan. As I watch this egg cook, I start to feel all the pressures of the day melt away. It’s a funny image and not actually what Jesus is saying. When he mentions the yoke, he’s referring to the heavy wooden beam used to join two oxen together to pull a plow. This is the true picture of what God’s love can do. He takes our worry, doubt, fear, depression and anxiety and gives us his yoke of faith, reassurance, strength, joy, and peace.

    Taking care of a tiny human for the first time was a struggle. I was never meant to carry such a heavy assignment alone. God blessed me with a wonderful husband, loving mother and mother-in-law, and countless aunts who were ready to hold her at any given moment. But how many times did I try to juggle my new hat all alone? I felt like Lucy (I Love Lucy) when she was walking down the stairs in a ridiculously large headdress. She couldn’t make it work. What made me think I could do it?

    Every December I begin to pray that God would show me a word for the upcoming year. My word for 2021 was fight. I didn’t know that meant my mental health.

    Psalm 14:14- “The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.”

    After I spilled my water, I went home and cried about it for 3 days. I was so ashamed by my absurd behavior that I couldn’t move past it. However, I sat in my pity long enough. I was done with the mom-guilt, the depression, the anxiety, and the emotional overload I bore every day. With the encouragement from my husband and family, I reached out to my health care provider.

    Do me a favor: when you start to feel yourself go off the edge, hold on to someone, but most importantly, hold on to God. He’s the one who cares for you (1 Peter 5:7). Remember, it’s okay to ask for help and to prioritize your mental health and self-care. By taking care of yourself, you are better equipped to care for your loved ones. Let’s break the stigma and create a supportive community where every mother and woman can thrive. Together, we can overcome the challenges and embrace the joys of life with a renewed sense of hope and strength.

    Philippians 4:6 – “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.”

    Once I admitted I needed help, and reached out to others, things began to change in my life. I was happy again and started to take care of myself. Now it’s your turn. 

    Melinda Brown is a mother, co-pastor, entrepreneur, and now she can add author to her ever growing list of gifts. She and her husband, Jason, pastor Columbus Community Church in South East Texas and now, Melinda has agreed to come on board as one of our newest authors on the STXWM Blog Team. Her heart is to share the love of Jesus through her writing and to tell the world of the healing and comfort that can be found in a relationship with the Lord.

    For resources or help call the National Alliance for Mental Illness at 1-800-950-6264 or to chat you can text “NAMI” to 62640. In a crisis, call or text 988. (Faith based services are available upon request.)

    Click this link to visit the mental health resources page for our South Texas Network Women’s Ministries Department: https://www.stxagwm.org/mental-health


    *You can also speak to your healthcare advisor for resources on post partum depression.

  • He is Risen…Now What?

    Easter weekend was wonderful. So much celebrating, so much beauty, so much goodness. And yet, I’ve been tempted to over-indulge in sweets and social media this week in my post-holiday slump.

    Have you ever experienced the emotional crash after a special day? All the planning and preparation leading up to a celebration, followed by the excitement and energy of the actual day can leave us feeling exhausted and wondering what we have to look forward to now that this big event is over.

    Perhaps your Easter weekend was joyous and filled with celebratory events, worship, and food, but now you’re experiencing that post-holiday slump and wondering, 

    “He is risen…now what?”

    I imagine that the disciples had a similar experience. The death and resurrection of Jesus had been a roller coaster of deep lows and soaring highs, and they likely felt a bit of emotional whiplash. When Jesus revealed Himself to them after His resurrection and then ascended to heaven, I can only imagine that His followers were left feeling overwhelmed by all that had happened. 

    “He is risen…now what?”

    Well, we don’t have to wonder too much about this, because Jesus Himself answered the question. We read about His final interactions with His followers in each of the gospels, and they give us a very clear picture of what our response to His resurrection is to be.

    In Matthew, Jesus gives us the Great Commission:

    “Jesus came and told his disciples, ‘I have been given all authority in heaven and on earth. Therefore, go and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Teach these new disciples to obey all the commands I have given you. And be sure of this: I am with you always, even to the end of the age.” (Matthew 28:18-20)

    In Mark, Jesus shared a similar command:

    “And then he told them, ‘Go into all the world and preach the Good News to everyone. Anyone who believes and is baptized will be saved. But anyone who refuses to believe will be condemned. These miraculous signs will accompany those who believe: They will cast out demons in my name, and they will speak in new languages. They will be able to handle snakes with safety, and if they drink anything poisonous, it won’t hurt them. They will be able to place their hands on the sick, and they will be healed.” (Mark 16:15-18)

    In Luke, after confirming His identity to those who were struggling to believe, He issues another commission with a promise:

    “It was also written that this message would be proclaimed in the authority of his name to all the nations, beginning in Jerusalem: ‘There is forgiveness of sins for all who repent.’ You are witnesses of these things. And now I will send the Holy Spirit, just as my Father promised. But stay here in the city until the Holy Spirit comes and fills you with power from heaven.” (Luke 24:47-49)

    And finally, in John, Jesus reiterates His commission and the promise of the Spirit:

    “Again he said, ‘Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I am sending you.’ Then he breathed on them and said, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive anyone’s sins, they are forgiven. If you do not forgive them, they are not forgiven.’” (John 20:21-23)

    As we finish the last of our carrot cake and chocolate candies and wonder what’s next, we must remember that Easter was not the end. The resurrection, while it was the most significant event in human history and especially for those of us who follow Jesus, is not meant to be celebrated once a year and then forgotten. We must see Easter and the resurrection as Jesus intended it to be: 

    a catalyst for the Gospel to be taken in the power of the Holy Spirit to the ends of the earth.

    It is no mistake that most of the final recorded words of Jesus in each of the gospels centers around missions and evangelism. This was the “now what.” The events that took place that Easter weekend were not meant to end on that Resurrection Sunday. Jesus didn’t want the disciples sitting around feeling purposeless after the emotional high of seeing their Lord and Savior rise from the dead and ascend into heaven. He wanted them to have a clear direction of what they were to do next.

    I believe Jesus’s instruction to the disciples is the same for all of us who still choose to follow Him today. We grieve the cost He paid for our sins on the cross. We rejoice in His victory over death, hell, and the grave that gives us access to eternal life in Him. And then we receive His commission- to be filled with the Spirit and take the message of His gospel to all nations. 

    If we celebrate Easter without continuing the story, we’ll find ourselves with a chocolate hangover asking, “He’s risen…now what?” 

    But when we embrace His death and resurrection AND the promised Holy Spirit and command to share the Good News, we find ourselves living passionate, purpose-filled lives for His glory and our good.

    by Heather F.

    It took audacious faith from the disciples to follow the command of Jesus to wait on the Holy Spirit, and then to GO- to be sent out to all nations for the sake of the gospel and the glory of God. The same Holy Spirit that empowered the disciples to establish and build the church in many cities and nations is available to us today. I invite you to take a moment to pray today that the Holy Spirit would fill you anew with His power and anointing, and that you would be sensitive to His leading to take the Good News to your neighbors, community, and the ends of the earth.

  • Good Friday- From Peeps to The Passion

    Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

    Growing up, Easter was basically the Christian version of the Met Gala. I’m talking frilly dresses that rustled when you walked, white patent leather shoes that could blind someone in direct sunlight, and coordinating hats resting atop perfectly barreled curls.

    Our Easter season wasn’t so much spent reflecting on Holy Week; it was packed with dying eggs, chocolate bunnies, and big lunches at my great-grandma’s house following church. You didn’t just attend Easter lunch—you arrived like royalty, praying that there were some deviled eggs left and hoping that you didn’t “dirty up” your Easter dress.

    As I got older, I began to understand that Easter wasn’t just about egg hunts and temporarily tolerating pantyhose. It was about Jesus dying on a cross (ouch) and then miraculously rising again on the third day (AMEN!). Suddenly, Easter had a whole new meaning that had nothing to do with marshmallow Peeps.

    But while Easter Sunday felt like a full-blown celebration, Good Friday always sat quietly in the background—strange, somber, and honestly, a little confusing.

    Back in my childhood, Good Friday actually was good—for one very specific, very non-theological reason: no school. That meant sleeping in, staying in my pajamas way too long, and spending the day watching gloriously trashy daytime television that I had absolutely no business watching. (Ricki Lake, Maury, Sally Jessy, anyone?) I had no clue what the day was really about, but hey—if it came with an excuse to miss school, I was all in.  Even now, if I’m being honest, I still find myself squinting at the calendar every year like, “Really? We’re still calling it Good Friday?”

    The older I get, the more those mental images of Jesus—courtesy of The Passion of the Christ (which, let’s be honest, I still watch with one hand over my eyes)—flash across my mind. And when I allow myself to sit with the reality of it all, really feel the weight of Jesus’ humanity and His death, I find myself overwhelmed with emotion.

    As I type this, I can feel the heaviness settle in—the suffering, the injustice, the ache of it all—and I think, “Lord… this hurts. How is this good?”  And yet, somehow, it is.

    The truth is, we have a very human way of looking at the word “good.” We think of things that are pleasant, comfortable, easy—things that make us smile or feel warm and fuzzy inside. Good is a sunny day, a freshly cleaned kitchen (made even better if you weren’t the one who cleaned it), and a warm cup of coffee that hits just right.  But what kind of good does Good Friday represent?

    It’s deeper. It’s not surface-level or soft around the edges. It’s a good that costs something. A good that saves. A good that looked like a loss before it ever looked like a victory.

    It’s the kind of good that turns the whole definition upside down—because it’s not about what feels good, it’s about what God says is good.

    Good Friday is good not because of what happened to Jesus, but because of what He chose to do for us.

    There’s nothing “good” about betrayal, torture, and crucifixion… not in the way the world defines it. From a human standpoint, Good Friday looks like a complete and utter disaster. The hero dies. The crowd turns. The sky goes dark—literally.

    “It was now about noon, and darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon.” – Luke 23:44

    But here’s the thing: Good Friday isn’t about defeat. It’s about divine design.

    Jesus didn’t just endure the cross—He embraced it. Not because He had to. But because He wanted to save you. Save me. Save all of us.

    “No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord.” – John 10:18

    That’s what makes it good.

    It’s good because the cross wasn’t the end of the story. It was the turning point. It was the plot twist. It was the beginning of the biggest comeback in history.

    “But God shows His love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” – Romans 5:8

    It’s good because Sunday was coming.

    Jesus’ death wasn’t a sign of failure. It was a fulfillment. He was the spotless Lamb, the perfect sacrifice foretold in Scripture. From the Garden of Eden to the Passover in Egypt, all of it had been pointing to this—the moment when sin would be swallowed up by grace, once and for all.

    “He was pierced for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on Him, and by His wounds we are healed.” – Isaiah 53:5

    It’s good because, on the darkest day in human history, the Light of the World did His most radiant work.

    That cross, brutal and bloody, became the doorway to eternal life. That crown of thorns became a crown of glory. That cry of “It is finished” (John 19:30) wasn’t a whimper of defeat—it was a roar of victory.

    So yes, Good Friday breaks our hearts.  But it also heals them.

    It invites us to sit in the tension—the sorrow and the salvation, the suffering and the hope. It reminds us that our God doesn’t just stand at a distance; He steps into the mess, the pain, the death… and redeems it all.  Because He loves us that much.

    “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” – John 15:13

    So when we call it Good Friday, we’re not saying it wasn’t hard. We’re saying it was holy.
    It was the day Jesus gave everything so we could have everything in Him.

    And maybe that’s the goodness we’re invited to lean into—not just the goodness of a day, but the unfathomable goodness of God’s love. The kind of love that doesn’t shy away from pain, but steps into it for our sake. The goodness of a Savior who, in His willingness to lay down His life, showed us the depth of His love—love that redeems, restores, and makes us whole. That’s the true goodness of Good Friday: not a moment of comfort, but the ultimate act of sacrifice that brings eternal hope.

    Good Friday can seem like a mystery for those who have yet to experience this love for themselves. The pain, the suffering, the death—it doesn’t feel “good” by human standards. But here’s the truth: it’s the kind of love that doesn’t just stand by and watch our brokenness. It enters into it. It takes it on. And in doing so, it transforms us.

    If you’re struggling to see the “good” in Good Friday, know this: the story doesn’t end with the cross. It’s only the beginning. Sunday is coming. And in that resurrection, in the new life Jesus brings, we find the ultimate goodness. The love He demonstrated on Good Friday is still available to us today, ready to fill us, heal us, and carry us through whatever dark days we might face.

    So, if you’ve ever wondered why we call it “Good” Friday, or why Jesus would do something so drastic for us, know that the answer lies in His love. A love that’s willing to sacrifice everything for you. A love that doesn’t just see you where you are, but sees you for who you can become—whole, healed, and alive in Him. That’s the hope Good Friday offers. And that’s the goodness that can change everything.

     Tracie Tevault is a recent addition to the STXWM blog team, and she’s excited to share her journey and connect with others through her writing. Married for 15 years to her best friend, Tracie is raising one awesome son and three spoiled cats who definitely rule the house. With a heart for ministry, Tracie has served in many areas, but her true passion lies in reaching those who might not fit the traditional church mold. She’s all about showing people they are loved, valued, and created with a purpose. Quirky, loud, and always ready for a good laugh, Tracie brings a fun-loving energy to everything she does. When she’s not writing or serving, you’ll find her hanging out with her family, discovering her newest crafting hyper fixation, and finding inspiration from God in the everyday moments.

About STX Women

We are the Women’s Ministries branch of the South Texas Assemblies of God.

Women across South Texas desire a community where we celebrate each other and share each other’s burdens.

Together, we walk out our God-given purpose in our family, church, and community!

Our passion and love for Christ unite us to reach the lost at home and across the world. 

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