Author: Kelly Skelton

How has Christ shaped your story?
How can you change the narrative from what was to what He did for you?

Life isn’t necessarily a series of things that happened to you.
What if you shifted your perspective and looked at it as a series of things that happened for you?

When I was 24 years old, I was engaged and chasing a far-off dream of becoming a photojournalist for Sports Illustrated. However, through a series of God-breathed events, that dream drastically changed. I found myself as a single mom, chasing the dream of a family, a more fulfilling career, and the gift of having more time to spend with my daughter.

Though I’ve never taken a single photograph or written an article for Sports Illustrated, God used my story—my hurt—to publish a children’s book embracing adoption. He perfectly pieced my family together in a way only He could, in a way I never would have imagined.

For me, my story is a reminder that we are each chosen and created by God. I am forever thankful that He redirected my steps, placed new desires in my heart, and ultimately changed my story.

My challenge to you this Easter weekend is simple: share your story.
Share your testimony. When the opportunity comes, speak boldly about what God has done for you—how He has transformed your life from what it looked like, from what it could have been, into what it is now.

I pray that as you embrace this Good Friday, you are reminded that Jesus’ death on the cross sets you free. It gives your life meaning and purpose. The very fact that you are breathing shows that you have purpose here.

Dare to share your story so that others can be inspired to find pieces of theirs.

Just like Jesus’ story didn’t end at the cross, neither does yours.
Your story doesn’t end at the place where you were hurt, where you made mistakes, or where you took a wrong turn. Let that be the beginning of your next chapter—the place where you let God heal you, forgive you, and deliver you.

This Easter, change your story.

Do you ever wonder if Jesus wanted to change His story—to remove the cross from His life, to spare Himself?
How often do we wish we could change our own stories?

Imagine if there hadn’t been another chapter after those three days.
Imagine if the darkest day the world has ever seen hadn’t flipped the script and changed everything.
But it did. God used His pain for a much greater purpose—and there’s purpose in your pain too.

In my years of teaching, raising a family, and being active in our community, I’ve learned that pain has a way of making us more empathetic. When we walk through difficult seasons, we gain the ability to comfort others who are suffering in the same way. Often, it’s through our own pain that we learn how to truly love and support others.

Just as Jesus understood our pain and suffered for us, we can use our pain to point others toward the hope and healing that comes through Christ.

I’ve come to realize that God doesn’t waste our pain. He uses it to refine us, to help us grow, and to shape us into the parents, friends, and leaders He’s called us to be. The struggles we face today may not make sense right now, but they are part of the beautiful tapestry God is weaving in our lives. That pain is shaping you, strengthening you, and drawing you closer to the One who understands pain better than anyone.

Trust that God is using every moment—even the painful ones—for your good and His glory.

I pray that as you walk through this day, you are reminded that you are not alone in any season of pain or struggle. You may feel overwhelmed by the challenges you face, but know that He is using these moments to grow you and draw you closer to Him.

Trust that your pain has purpose, and that He is working in and through you, even when you can’t see it.

Lord, give us the strength to endure, the wisdom to learn from these struggles, and the grace to share Your love with others who are hurting. Thank You for never wasting our pain. Amen.

As a mother, I often think about the moments in life when I’ve had to make tough choices for my children. When I picture the story of Barabbas being pardoned in the Bible, I can’t help but feel overwhelmed with emotion. Barabbas was a criminal—a murderer—and yet the crowd chose to set him free instead of Jesus! The choice seems so unjust. Barabbas was guilty, yet he walked away without paying for his crime, while Jesus, who had done no wrong, was sentenced to die on the cross.

This moment isn’t just a story from history—it’s a reflection of God’s incredible grace and mercy.

For me, the story of Barabbas represents something deeply personal. It’s a reminder of how often we fall short—how we, like Barabbas, are so undeserving of forgiveness, yet God still chooses to set us free. Barabbas didn’t earn his release. He was guilty, and yet he walked away without consequence. Jesus took our place, just as He took the place of Barabbas. He took the punishment we deserve for all the mistakes we’ve made. The freedom Barabbas experienced that day is the same freedom Jesus offers to each of us.

We may not be in prison, but we are all trapped by our sin—and Jesus is the only one who can free us.

As a mom, this truth hits even deeper. I want my children to know that no matter how far they fall, no matter what they do, they are always loved, always forgiven, and always worthy of grace. Just like Barabbas, they are forgiven not because they’ve earned it, but because of God’s unending love. I want my children to understand that no matter what mistakes they make, God’s grace is enough to cover them.

It’s a truth I will strive to reflect in the way I love my children, my husband, and everyone around me. Every day offers a new chance to live in grace, to forgive, and to show mercy.

I pray you are reminded of the amazing gift of grace you’ve been given—one you don’t deserve. I pray God will help you see the impact you can have on those around you and inspire you to show others the power of His forgiveness and love. I pray God will help you be a living example of grace, patience, and compassion in your home and in every relationship and space you enter.

Lord, when we fall short, remind us of Your unending mercy, and help us to extend that same grace to others. May we always walk in the freedom You’ve given us, and may we never forget how precious Your forgiveness is—and the impact it makes.

I have a vivid picture in my mind of what I imagine Jesus looked like hanging on the cross. Blood dripped down His arms, His face, and the rest of His body—just hanging there, hanging on for life. I imagine what His cry out to God sounded like—the gut-wrenching cry of a child looking for their father when they’re hurt and desperate for His comfort. I imagine how immensely difficult it was for God to let it happen. To watch His only Son hang there, mocked, whipped, beaten—yet internally unblemished. All for the sake of everyone else’s sins, to offer them forgiveness they didn’t deserve. The very people who mocked Him—He was dying for them, to offer forgiveness and eternal life.

As a parent myself, I can’t fathom allowing that to happen to one of my own children. I can’t imagine not standing up for them when the world is knocking them down. I can’t imagine watching them suffer and not stepping in—sacrificing myself to ease their pain.

This is what I imagine grace looks like. It’s blood, sweat, and tears. It’s hitting rock bottom, feeling alone, not knowing where to turn—and then someone graciously steps in to help you pick up the pieces.

When I was in college, my best friend since second grade and I got into an argument—one that, to this day, I can’t even remember the true reason for. It drove a wedge in our friendship, and we never talked about it again. She moved to a different state, and we physically and emotionally grew apart.

But when she heard that my mom’s breast cancer had come back and hospice had been called in, she—without asking—made the six-hour drive by herself to spend the weekend with me, taking care of my mom. She literally came in with open arms, asking how she could help. She carried my mom’s weak and dying dog to the kitchen sink and gave her a bath. She helped me roll my mom over and change her tattered bed sheets. She went to the grocery store, bought food, and watched me spoon-feed my sweet mother.

It was a vivid picture of grace that I will never forget. In those moments, she was an answered prayer I never thought would walk through that door. That’s grace.

That is the kind of grace I want to walk with in this world—one where I forgive past hurts without question, one where I’m willing to step in when the world feels like it’s crumbling. Where I come in unannounced and can be the hands and feet of Jesus wherever I’m needed.

I pray that as you read these words, you feel challenged to do the same—to embrace the grace you don’t deserve and offer it freely to others, just as God has offered it to you. I pray you are patient, understanding, and forgiving, even when it’s difficult. Look past the faults and flaws of others, just as God looks past yours. I pray your heart will be filled with compassion—and that you can’t help but exude the love of Christ in all that you do.

Have you ever done something you definitely thought twice about—but did it anyway? A choice where your conscience immediately stepped in moments after you made the decision, and you instantly felt guilt? That’s how I imagine Pilate felt moments after he handed Jesus over to the Roman soldiers. He knew Jesus was innocent, yet he gave in to the peer pressure of the crowd and surrendered His life.

In our daily lives, we are all faced with choices—sometimes making the right decision, other times making slightly wrong ones.

Perhaps our decisions aren’t as momentous as Pilate’s, but often, we make choices knowing they go against what we believe and what we know to be true. We say things we know we shouldn’t. Instead of being peacemakers, we engage in gossip at work. Maybe the sin you’re struggling with feels heavier than gossip. Owning up to your guilt and asking for forgiveness is a powerful step toward healing, recognizing the truth in Romans 3:23: “For everyone has sinned; we all fall short of God’s glorious standard.”

This verse reminds us that no one is perfect—we all make mistakes that separate us from God. Yet, in acknowledging where we fall short, we open the door to His grace and mercy. By humbling ourselves, seeking forgiveness, and sincerely repenting, we find peace and restoration. Forgiveness not only restores our relationship with God but also lifts the burden of guilt from our hearts.

I pray that as you begin your week, you continue an open dialogue with God—admitting your wrongs and walking in the truth that His forgiveness is real. I pray you’re reminded that through God’s love and grace, we don’t have to carry the weight of our failures alone. He offers us forgiveness and the chance to start over.

I think that sometimes talking about a past hurt can be healing. It’s a way of reflecting on how far you’ve come from the setbacks in your life.

When I look at the ones who’ve hurt me—for every time someone stepped out on me or hurt me—someone else always stepped right in. God has had a plan for all of my past hurts, and all of your past hurts. He’s used those stories to build the amazing chapters in our lives. Ultimately, it’s a story that has made me who I am and who you are. He has used every hurt for good.

There were times I didn’t understand it, times I felt like He wasn’t there, and times when I wanted to right those wrongs and make others feel my pain too. But every time—every time—God has used it for good. I am forever thankful that I’ve been able to see the other side of those hurts.

The author C.S. Lewis wrote, “Look for Christ and you will find Him, and with Him, everything else.” I believe this is true. Don’t let the sun go down while you are still angry. Say the things you need to say to keep your peace and heal your hurt. Leave the vengeance to God.

I pray that as you close out your week and begin your weekend, you will be able to let go of past hurts and walk toward forgiveness. The ones who have hurt you may never know they hurt you. They may never apologize. They may never even realize it. But bitterness has no place in a beautiful heart like yours. Be the one who steps in when others have stepped out. The story of your healing hurt may be what helps someone else walk out of theirs.

When was a time you felt closest to God? Was it during a struggle, when you cried out for help?

I can vividly remember the countless times I hit my knees crying out to God in 2020. I remember the bold prayers I prayed in my stairwell, and I remember the peace that flowed—peace that didn’t make sense.

I was closer to God in 2020 than I ever had been in my life. I was the healthiest I had ever been. I was the most spiritually sound, reading my Bible, writing, journaling, and seeing the good in everything.

It’s funny—sometimes when things look so good to you, they might not to everyone else. I remember people constantly making comments about my appearance, about how much weight I’d lost, and about my exercise habits. At first, I brushed it off. I was finally maintaining peace, overcoming the anxiety that 2020 brought, and working toward a healthier me. But the longer and more frequent the comments became, the more I began to wonder if something was wrong with me. Why would so many people express concern about my appearance?

You see, my daughter and I have multiple food allergies. During 2020, among many other challenges, there was a shortage of our specific allergy-free foods. There was even a shortage of ingredients, and products that were safe for us to eat in 2019 were no longer made with the same ingredients in 2020. While this brought on stress, it also led to healthier alternatives. That time of slowdown gave me the chance to try new recipes, work with fresh ingredients, and ultimately, it led to weight loss.

Despite knowing all this, I couldn’t shake the comments—they started to get to me. My family has a history of cancer. My dad passed away when I was 16 from lung and liver cancer. My sister was diagnosed with ovarian cancer at 22. My mom just passed away from breast cancer. I let the hurtful comments make me believe that something might be wrong with me too.

I scheduled an appointment with my doctor, who reviewed my chart, listened intently to my story, and after physical checks and blood work, assured me he had no concerns. He said I should be proud of my health, that I was within perfect limits for my age and size. While those comments brought peace to my anxious heart, he did something else I will never forget.

As I walked out of the exam room feeling better, he paused outside his next patient’s room. Then he came back to the front and called me back. He said, “I really feel like I’m supposed to say this to you. Just because there’s been cancer in your family doesn’t mean that you will develop cancer. You are perfectly healthy. Just because there is a history of something doesn’t define your future.”

Those words were everything I needed to hear. They calmed my mind and eased my heart. I will never forget how impactful words can be. Our words can cause hurt and anxiety, but they can also bring peace and reassurance. In 2020, and every day thereafter, I resolved to run the race God has set for me—specifically for me. How I run that race is different from others, and that’s okay.

Though those people never knew how their words hurt me—never apologized or acknowledged how they made me feel—giving it to God and choosing to continue running my race healed the hurt I carried inside.

I pray today, as your week begins to wind down, that you remember the impact you have on your office, your church, your school, your kids’ friends, and your family. Remember that your words have the power to spark. Let them spark something good in someone else. If God lays someone on your heart or gives you something to do, do it. Those very words could be what helps someone else heal from past hurt.

I’m certain that, at some point, you have walked through hard times, been hurt by someone you love, or struggled with forgiveness. But have you ever felt like you emotionally hurt yourself? Is there something you need to forgive yourself for?

I’m a people pleaser. I want everyone around me to be happy. I want to always do what’s best for my family, my kids, my students, and my co-workers. Sometimes, to maintain peace, I ignore how I feel about something. I won’t say the thing I know I need to say. I stay silent, and unintentionally, I end up hurting myself.

You see, what happens is that staying silent begins to harbor resentment—resentment that others didn’t see things the way I did, that no one else felt uncomfortable or spoke out, or, better yet, that no one acknowledged how frustrated I was. And that hurts.

In yesterday’s Digging Deeper, I wrote about how I’ll never get back those 13 years with my mom—13 years that we could have been so much closer if we had just addressed the unspoken truth.

But what I do know is that, in every instance, God has used those parts of my story—those past hurts and people-pleasing moments—to point me back to Him. I’m thankful that we can learn from those setbacks and mistakes every day.

When you help maintain peace, even after someone has hurt you, like Romans 12:17 says, you are being honorable: “Do things in such a way that everyone can see you are honorable.” By doing so, you bring honor to God and not vengeance to others.

I pray that as you walk into today, you put away your people-pleasing tendencies. Look others in the eye, listen to their words, and have the bravery to maintain peace while also saying how you feel. Don’t let your years be wasted. Let your hurts become a part of your story that points others back to Christ.

My mom was a prayer warrior. She was always the first person I called when I needed prayer, the right scripture, or a solid voice of reason. Her relationship with Christ was unlike anything I had ever seen. It was something I strived for. She had journal upon journal filled with messages she’d written where God had answered a prayer or shared something she never wanted to forget. She journaled through all the hard and happy moments of her life.

But there’s one thing I never saw scribbled in her notebooks: the day she knowingly and intentionally said something to hurt me.

It was a hurt so deep that, for several months, we didn’t speak. She missed my daughter’s first Christmas and some of her milestones. During the months we weren’t talking, we played a passive-aggressive game of When will it be okay to talk again? Are we both over this yet? For 13 long years, we never mentioned it. We rebuilt our relationship. We still absolutely loved each other— that never stopped. But I was still broken from her words. I was always fearful that the reasoning behind what she did would be worse than her words themselves.

It wasn’t until she entered a battle with cancer that I finally had the courage to ask why she said what she did.

When she broke down and shared her version of what happened, it was eye-opening. In her motherly mind, she believed she was pushing me toward something she thought I needed. There was so much more going on that I didn’t know, so much I couldn’t see, so much she didn’t say at the time. Isn’t that how it always is when someone hurts us? There’s always more to the story—more that we don’t know.

I’ll never forget that conversation with my mom. I’m thankful that God gave me that time to reconcile, to know her reality, and to truly and deeply forgive a hurt I had carried for 13 years. At her funeral last summer, I clung to the words she shared during that conversation. I will forever wish that conversation had happened sooner, giving me more time with her while she was still on this side of heaven.

Ephesians 4:26 says, “Don’t let the sun go down while you are still angry, for anger gives a foothold to the devil.” I firmly believe this with every ounce of my soul.

My prayer for you today is that you hold this scripture in your heart. If someone hurts you, remember that holding on to the hurt will never help you heal. Your heart is too valuable a place to store anger and resentment. We were made to forgive.

How hard is it to ignore the harsh words that someone spews to hurt you?

It feels almost impossible. But so is trying to combat someone’s harsh words about you while firing back with something positive.

In my career, I have had the absolute pleasure of working with people from various backgrounds and beliefs. I’ve worked with atheists, non-believers, and individuals from various religious traditions. I have worked with people from my home state of Georgia, people from far up the East Coast, and people from as far out as the West Coast. I’ve worked with individuals who share my beliefs and values and others whose views are polar opposites.

One thing I have learned through each of these experiences is that they help you grow as a person. I’ve learned a lesson from each one and have become more understanding and more appreciative of their uniqueness. Sometimes, though, those lessons are hard—especially when they involve someone spreading lies about you.

I am the type of person who can ignore criticism about my fashion, my style, and my image all day long. But when you attack my character—my integrity—I draw a fine line.

Several years ago, a co-worker shared some very untruthful things about me in a meeting. It took only two short hours before the story got back to me, and the criticism of my peers started setting in. In a moment like that, you want to immediately defend your name, right the wrong, and stand up for yourself. And while I informally did those things, I never fully confronted them. I let that hurt build into a constant frustration, and a passive-aggressive character I didn’t want to wear emerged. I never stood up for myself.

The rest of that year, I was in survival mode, and I hated the way that made me feel. It wasn’t until that summer that I finally decided holding onto that hurt—the story someone else had written about me—was only hurting me. So, I let it go. I knew the truth, God knew the truth, and His view of me was the only one I needed to worry about. I trusted that God could right the wrong.

A year later, that same former co-worker experienced a life-changing event. My heart was pounding when I felt God press in and tell me to contact them. When I called, I spoke nothing but encouraging words, and I could hear the peace in their voice. I never spoke to them about the hurt they caused me. I never confronted the frustrating words. But I was the one cheering them on when they needed affirmation. I know they will never forget that, and I will never forget just how perfect God’s timing was in that moment.

I pray as you tackle this Monday, you remember that people will never forget how you make them feel. The words you speak should always be an encouragement for others to hear. You can never take back words once they leave your mouth, so let them be something worth remembering.