Life-Giving Words of Hope & Encouragement

There comes a time in all our lives when we must stop running—not necessarily with our feet, but with our hearts. Running from pain. From truth. From our past. From what God is calling us to face and heal. We’ve all done it. But running doesn’t bring peace; it only delays the healing we desperately need.

Recently, I was reminded of a powerful truth: what we don’t confront, like Jacob with Esau, we will eventually have to revisit. When we do, it either becomes a wall that keeps us bound or a doorway that leads us into freedom.

The story of Jonah is a clear example. God gave him an assignment—to go to Nineveh and preach repentance—but Jonah ran in the opposite direction. He boarded a ship heading far from God’s will, thinking he could escape the call. But God, in His mercy, sent a storm—not to punish him, but to redirect him.

Just like Jonah, many of us are in storms of our own making. And while it may feel like punishment, it’s actually grace. Grace that won’t let us settle for less than healing. Grace that stirs up the waters so we can’t stay stuck. Jonah ended up in the belly of a fish, a dark and lonely place—yet it was there he cried out to God. And that moment of surrender changed everything.

But I want to share another story, a real one, that takes this truth even deeper.

Mary lost her only son to gun violence. A young man, barely grown, was shot and killed in the streets. Her world shattered. Her joy was buried in a coffin. And when the young man who pulled the trigger was arrested, something cold and heavy took root in Mary’s heart: hatred. She began to refer to her son’s killer not as a person, but as an animal. It was how she coped. It was how she made sense of the senseless.

For years, she ran—not physically, but emotionally. From grief. From forgiveness. From the unbearable weight of her son’s absence. Her heart became a prison. Until one day, God did what He always does—He opened the door to healing.

Through a restorative justice program, Mary agreed to meet the man who had taken her son’s life. It wasn’t easy. Every part of her wanted to walk away. But something inside said, it’s time to stop running. That meeting broke her. But it also began to heal her. She looked into the eyes of the boy she once called an animal and saw someone who was lost, broken, and full of regret.

At the end of that meeting, he quietly asked her, “Can I give you a hug?” She hesitated—but then said yes. As he wrapped his arms around her, Mary said she could feel the hatred that had clung to her for years begin to leave her body. That moment changed her. The cold weight lifted. Something that had chained her to pain for so long finally snapped. It was as if God had reached into the deepest part of her soul and poured in His love.

And something miraculous happened—she forgave him. Not in theory, but in action. Over time, she mentored him from prison. And when he was released, she welcomed him into her home. He became a spiritual son to her—the same home where her son once lived now became a house of redemption for another.

That’s the power of stopping the running. That’s the power of facing the pain. And that’s the kind of restoration only God can orchestrate.

Like Jacob, who ran from Esau after deceiving him, many of us avoid hard truths and past mistakes. But Jacob couldn’t move into his full blessing until he faced Esau. And when he finally did, something beautiful happened: the one he feared embraced him. Reconciliation. Healing. A new chapter.

You cannot run forever. The past you avoid will wait for you until you’re ready. But here’s the good news: when you turn around, you won’t be met with wrath—you’ll be met with mercy.

God is not mad at you for running. He’s just waiting for you to come home. Like the father of the prodigal son, He’s watching the road, ready to run toward you with arms wide open.

Today, choose to stop running—from fear, from shame, from the things you’ve buried but never dealt with. Because what we refuse to face becomes the very thing that keeps us stuck. But what we surrender, God will redeem.

If Mary could forgive the one who murdered her son… if Jonah could be swallowed and still fulfill his calling… if Jacob could reconcile with Esau and find peace… then what’s stopping us?

It’s time to stop running. To stop pretending. To stop avoiding the hard things. It’s time to stand still and let God heal the deep places.

Because only when we stop running… can we truly start living. I hope this speaks to you, and I pray you have a blessed day!