September

When Life Feels Bare: Trusting God in the Empty Places

When Life Feels Stripped Bare

Some seasons leave us feeling exposed. Dreams fall through. Relationships end. Prayers seem unanswered. The branches of our lives stand bare, and we wonder if anything will grow again.

But emptiness is not abandonment. Scripture reminds us that God is close to the brokenhearted. The absence of fruit doesn’t mean the absence of God.

“Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior.” — Habakkuk 3:17–18

Joy in the Empty Places

Habakkuk’s words remind us that joy isn’t rooted in circumstances, it’s rooted in God Himself. Even when the fields were empty and the barns were bare, he chose joy in the God who never changes.

Choosing joy when life feels empty doesn’t mean pretending things are fine. It means saying: “Even here, I will trust. Even here, God is still good.”

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” — Psalm 34:18

Bayou Wisdom: Rebuilding After Storms

Here in South Louisiana, we know what it’s like when storms strip life bare. After hurricanes, streets are littered with debris, homes stand empty, and it feels like everything is lost.

But slowly, beauty rises again. Neighbors help neighbors. Families rebuild. Gardens sprout from broken ground. What looks bare is often just the beginning of restoration.

Challenge for the Week

This week, take 15 minutes to name your “bare places.” Write down the areas of your life that feel empty, broken, or stripped away. Then, pray over each one, inviting God into the emptiness.

Pray this simple prayer:
“Lord, meet me here. Even in the bare places, I will trust You. Help me see signs of Your presence.”

Final Encouragement

Friend, bare doesn’t mean barren.
When life feels stripped down to nothing, God is planting something unseen. He is close to the brokenhearted, near to the weary, and faithful to restore what feels lost.

Hold on to hope. The empty places are not the end of your story, they are the soil where God’s new work begins.

Blessings,
Liz

The Beauty of Falling Leaves: Learning to Let Go

When Letting Go Looks Like Loss

Fall is the season when trees let go. Leaves fall, branches grow bare, and the air carries a different stillness. From the outside, it may look like loss. But in God’s design, letting go is what makes room for new life.

In our lives, letting go often feels the same way. We cling tightly to plans, people, or seasons we thought would last forever. And when they fall away, it can feel like failure or grief. Yet God whispers: This isn’t the end, it’s the beginning of renewal.

“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens.” — Ecclesiastes 3:1

The Purpose of Falling Leaves

Leaves don’t fall because the tree is dying. They fall because the tree is preparing to survive and grow stronger in the next season.

Maybe God is asking you to release something:

An expectation that’s been weighing you down.
A relationship or role that’s no longer bearing fruit.
A version of yourself you’ve outgrown.

Letting go doesn’t mean giving up. It means trusting the Gardener’s hands to prepare you for what’s next.

Bayou Wisdom: Harvest Lessons

Here in South Louisiana, we know that harvest season means clearing fields before planting again. Sugarcane is cut down before new growth begins. Old stalks are burned to prepare the soil for what’s to come.

The land looks empty for a time, but it’s not wasted, it’s waiting.
Your life may feel the same. God may be clearing space so something richer can grow.

“Unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.” — John 12:24

Challenge for the Week

Take 10 quiet minutes and ask God: “What do You want me to release this season?”

Write down anything that comes to mind—burdens, fears, habits, or expectations.
Then, say a simple prayer of release: “Lord, I place this in Your hands. Help me trust Your timing.”

Final Encouragement

Just like the trees don’t cling to their leaves, you don’t have to cling to everything you’ve been carrying.
Letting go is not losing—it’s leaning into God’s promise that He makes all things new.

This season, may we see the beauty in falling leaves and find the courage to release what no longer serves us. Because when things fall apart, God is already planting what will rise again.

Blessings,
Liz

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