Deeper by Dane Ortlund is a thoughtful and Christ-centered book that explores what it means to grow in the Christian life beyond surface-level faith. It focuses on spiritual depth that comes not from striving harder, but from resting more fully in the person and work of Christ.
This book builds on themes of grace, transformation, and ongoing spiritual formation, pointing the reader back again and again to the heart of Jesus.
My Thoughts
This book felt like a gentle but steady invitation to move away from shallow or performance-based faith and into something deeper and more rooted in Christ.
What stood out to me:
The focus on spiritual growth as a work of grace rather than effort
The repeated emphasis on the heart of Christ in transformation
The calm, reflective tone that encourages slowing down and thinking deeply
How it impacted me:
It reminded me that growth in faith is not rushed or forced
It encouraged me to rest in what Christ is doing rather than what I am trying to achieve
It gave me a deeper appreciation for God’s patience in spiritual formation
Writing style / tone:
Reflective and theological but accessible
Calm and steady rather than urgent
Focused on depth rather than surface application
Key Themes
Spiritual growth through grace
The heart of Christ in transformation
Moving beyond surface-level faith
Rest and dependence on God
Who I Would Recommend This To
Believers wanting deeper spiritual maturity
Readers who enjoyed Gentle and Lowly
Those feeling stuck in surface-level faith
Small group or personal study readers
Favorite Quote
“Spiritual growth is not first about trying harder, but about resting deeper in Christ.”
Final Thoughts
Deeper is a steady and thoughtful reminder that true Christian growth is rooted in grace rather than effort. It calls the reader to slow down and consider the depth of Christ’s work in shaping the heart over time.
This is a book I would recommend to anyone who desires a more grounded, reflective, and Christ-centered understanding of spiritual growth.
Closer Than Your Next Breath by Susie Larson is a deeply encouraging devotional-style book that focuses on the nearness and presence of God in everyday life. It invites readers to slow down and recognize that God is not distant or disconnected, but intimately involved in every detail of our lives.
This book feels especially comforting for seasons of stress, uncertainty, or spiritual dryness. It gently points the reader back to truth: God is closer than we often feel or realize.
My Thoughts
This book felt like a steady reminder to rest in the presence of God instead of striving to feel spiritually “strong” all the time. It brought my attention back to the simple truth that God is near, even when emotions or circumstances don’t reflect it.
What stood out to me:
The consistent reminder of God’s nearness in everyday moments
The gentle, encouraging tone that feels like steady reassurance
The focus on trust rather than striving or performance
How it impacted me:
It helped me slow down spiritually and reflect more intentionally
It reminded me that feelings are not the measure of God’s presence
It encouraged me to trust God even in quiet or uncertain seasons
Writing style / tone:
Warm and devotional
Easy to read and reflective
Encouraging without being overly complex
Key Themes
God’s constant presence
Trusting God in uncertainty
Prayer as connection rather than performance
Resting in spiritual reassurance
Who I Would Recommend This To
Anyone walking through anxiety or uncertainty
Readers who enjoy devotional encouragement
Those wanting to grow in awareness of God’s presence
Women’s Bible study or small group settings
Favorite Quote
“God is closer than your next breath, even when you don’t feel Him.”
Final Thoughts
Closer Than Your Next Breath is a gentle and steady reminder of God’s nearness in every season. It does not overwhelm the reader with complexity, but instead offers consistent encouragement rooted in truth.
This is a book I would recommend to anyone who needs reassurance that they are not walking through life alone, even when it feels quiet or uncertain.
Gentle and Lowly is a deeply comforting and Christ-centered book that invites readers to see the heart of Jesus in a new and tender way. Dane Ortlund draws from Scripture and historic Christian writings to show the compassion, gentleness, and steady love of Christ toward sinners and sufferers.
This is not a book that rushes you. It is one that slows you down and gently turns your attention back to the heart of Jesus.
My Thoughts
This book met me in a very quiet and personal way. It reminded me that Jesus is not distant or harsh, but gentle, patient, and full of mercy toward those who come to Him honestly.
What stood out most to me was how consistently the book points back to the character of Christ. It is not centered on striving or performance, but on rest and belonging in Him.
The writing is simple but rich, and each chapter feels like an invitation to pause and reflect rather than rush through.
What stood out to me:
The gentle portrayal of Christ’s heart toward sinners and sufferers
The focus on grace instead of performance
The steady, calming tone of the writing
How it impacted me:
It encouraged me to slow down spiritually
It reminded me of the kindness of Jesus
It shifted my focus from striving to resting in Christ
Writing style / tone:
Calm and reflective
Easy to read but deeply meaningful
Devotional in feel without being overly complex
Who I Would Recommend This To
Those who feel spiritually weary or burdened
Anyone struggling with guilt or shame
New believers wanting to understand the heart of Jesus
Small group or Bible study settings
Favorite Quote
“One of the hardest things to grasp in the Christian life is how freely and fully Christ loves His people.”
Final Thoughts
Gentle and Lowly is a book I would return to again. It is steady, comforting, and rooted in Scripture. It gently shifts the reader’s focus away from striving and back to the heart of Christ’s mercy.
I would highly recommend it to anyone who needs to be reminded that Jesus is truly gentle and lowly in heart.
the beginning of a truth i can no longer carry in silence
It grieves me to post this.
For years I’ve tried so hard to believe in a God I can’t see, can’t hear, can’t feel, and honestly don’t see working in my life. I’ve wrestled, begged, waited, and tried to convince myself that pain and suffering are somehow necessary for growth — but I no longer believe that. I don’t believe suffering makes you stronger, and I’m tired of pretending it’s a requirement for blessing or proof of faith.
Because of that, going forward, I will not be writing, talking, or sharing anything faith‑based. I can’t keep forcing myself to speak from a place I no longer recognize.
These words were written in April of 2025, and I’ve edited them now because my beliefs have been shaken. They still speak for the part of me that is questioning everything — even whether God is there at all.
.
.
.
I cried myself to sleep last night.
I cried because I’m tired, weary and exhausted from life and all of its demands.
I cried because faith and endurance sometimes aren’t enough.
My heart is unpleasantly disturbed.
The testing of my faith has transformed into something that resembles resentment, rather than spiritual growth.
It has become painfully obvious that I don’t agree with the idea that we must walk so much of this life through long, tedious and excruciatingly painful valleys in order to get to a place where God is satisfied with our progress.
I once thought I understood the reasons behind all the “why,” yet the question still lingers, unanswered and unresolved.
I’m not being defiant or trying to be displeasing. These are simply my true feelings, and I’m human and vulnerable enough to finally admit them. If I’m judged for that, so be it — but I can’t deny what’s real inside me anymore.
I am simply finite, flawed, and covered in flesh and bone.
I’m like the dust in the wind, here one moment and gone the next.
Life is fleeting, yes.
It is but a mere breath.
I’m incapable of understanding the plan for my life, and yet circumstances far beyond my control continue to plague my mind.
Pain and suffering is not a choice anyone would willingly make for themselves, and it often feels cruel to imagine it being necessary for growth or learning.
It bewilders me to think that if there was a divine intention for humanity, we’ve drifted so far from it that pain seems to overshadow any sense of purpose or meaning.
It is deeply perplexing, and it has left me feeling disconnected from everything I once believed.
I honestly feel as if I’m wandering through the desert for a drink of water to quench my dry, thirsty, and burdened soul.
Discontentment has become my new best friend, and my perception of life has been clouded and consumed with doubts and confusion.
I’ve become a weakened vessel that’s been slowly drifting out to sea.
Questions are consistently lurking deep within me.
My heart simply cannot contain them all.
The biblical promises I once clung to now feel too impossible to believe.
I’m not certain I am capable enough to keep believing in that which I can’t see.
Holding on to unpredictability feels like a fast‑moving stream that flows straight through to the other side of the river, dries up, and then ceases to exist.
Will any of that which is unforeseen ever come to pass?
My faith feels too heavy to carry.
I’m troubled beyond belief.
Will I ever be free from the unending fear I loathe — the ache that swells in the pit of my stomach?
Will I ever be able to overcome it?
Will my desire to keep following the faith‑path I’ve always known slip away from me like a thief in the night? And if it does, will I be too afraid of what might happen if I no longer follow it?
My flesh has been overpowered by temptation’s lure, and the loss of my youthfulness has grieved me deeply.
Why do I so often feel like I’m failing at the life I’m trying to live?
How can I keep following a path of faith when that very faith has been shaken?
I’m having a hard time believing that He is working all things out for my good.
Is it wrong to admit that my beliefs no longer make sense to me?
sometimes healing is a flicker, sometimes it’s a return to the wound. but even in the unraveling, i’m learning to move forward with courage— one honest breath at a time.
there is room for your mourning and room for your dancing morning comes gray with rain asking its old questions of the heart joy waits quietly inside the ache sometimes the rain must finish speaking before the sun is allowed its say i am learning to dance where i stand not against the drops, but with them both ways of being are holy
*a quiet reminder that life’s beauty, value and significance often lie in its smallest, most ordinary of things — the everyday, often-overlooked aspects of life. we get to choose what we reach for…
a quiet reminder that imperfect faith is still faith
do you ever feel like you’ve stumbled in your walk with god? like something you said or did might cause others to question your faith? do you feel that quiet conviction of the holy spirit when that happens? and do others sometimes criticize you for not living up to a picture‑perfect standard of righteousness?
if there’s one thing i’ve learned on this journey, it’s this: there will always be someone who makes you feel inadequate — like you’ve let the lord down. there will always be messy moments when life gets in the way and you trip over your own intentions.
but let me remind you:
we are all imperfect. we are all messy. and i’m not ashamed to say that my faith is messy too.
i need god. i need the holy spirit. and as long as i’m trying — truly trying — to live in truth and righteousness, i believe god sees past my flaws and failures. he sees my heart. he sees yours too.
he sees you rise each morning, trying again to lead others toward him. and maybe we don’t always get it right — but the goal was never perfection.
if all you have to offer is a messy, real, raw, and authentic faith, that is enough.
you are loved. god loves you — even in your mess.
so have a blessed day, even if it’s imperfect. even if it’s filled with effort and not ease. it counts. it all counts.
keep growing. keep trying. keep showing up.
love, tina ♡
—
Today’s quiet reflection is resting on my substack, if you’d like to read it.
… “live and breathe beauty”— fully immersing oneself in the aesthetic and wonder of life, finding joy and inspiration in the beauty that surrounds us.
… “beauty is all the earth” hints to nature itself is a manifestation of beauty, and the earth being a “canvas of its LOVE” points to beauty is an expression of divine or universal love. It’s a poetic way of describing the interconnectedness of beauty, nature, and love.
(we) all is intertwined by beauty, love and nature and our lives are a canvas for both…
