Grow + Go Believers: Again + Again

Let’s pray:

Jesus, reveal to me the blind spots I cannot see. Help me fix my eyes on You, so that my heart and mind are transformed from illusion to truth. Teach me to behold You daily, and to let Your light guide every part of my life. Amen.

Cheering you on,

Em 💛

If you’re ready to get intentional about beholding Jesus again, start small but powerful: grab a copy of 31 Days of Beholding Again—a daily guide to fixing your eyes on Him and seeing your life through His truth.

USA friends, grab your copy from Amazon here.

UK friends, grab your copy from Amazon here.

Get a digital copy (only £5) from here.

And for those who want to go deeper, you’re invited to join us for a two-month Beholding Again cohort.

Come + Behold Him, Together!

Together, we’ll make Jesus our goal and create a space where His presence is our focus:

Weekly Zoom calls to pause, reflect, and encourage each other
A dedicated space away from the noise of social media
Community, prayer, and praise channels
Playlists to help your heart tune into His voice
A pay-as-you-feel model so money is never a barrier
Free PDF version of 31 Days of Beholding Again

This is a chance to reclaim the practice of beholding Jesus, to notice what’s been hidden in the blind spots of your heart, and to walk in clarity, freedom, and transformation together.

Your eyes, your heart, your soul—they all deserve to behold Him fully. Come and take this journey with us.

We begin officially on the 1st May, but you can join the Cohort right now!

If what I create—whether through writing, resources, or speaking—has been meaningful to you, please consider making a one-off donation (no subscription necessary!!) to all things Grow + Go I’d be so grateful. Your support helps me keep creating freely and sharing faith-filled content. Every gift—big or small—means so much. Thank you for being a Grow + Go Believer!

https://www.webmd.com/eye-health/what-to-know-blind-spots-scotoma

What Banner Are You Really Carrying?

Em Tyler — Fri, 10 Apr 2026 05:00:50 GMT

I was driving into a town recently, and the first thing I noticed was the sign: “Welcome to Tunbridge Wells.”

It was proudly declaring its partnerships: twinned with another town, a Fairtrade town… and then, in big letters, the word WINNER.

Winner.

I don’t know what exactly it had won—I was driving, and there’s only so much time to read all the signs—but it got me thinking. (You can now see that they are the proud winners of the South and South-East in Bloom. How lovely).

It got me wondering. What titles, labels, or banners are we holding over ourselves? The ones we carry in our hearts and minds, day after day. I’m not so sure many of us jump straight to ‘winner’. Perhaps it sounds more like:

Rejected. Divorced. Forgotten. Failure. Not enough. Lost. Hopeless. Addict.

We all have them. Silent headlines, labels from the world, from the past, from our own voices. And all the time we have them erected over our lives, living in our heads, taking up space in our thoughts, they define the way we see ourselves. But they don’t have to.

Easter reminds us of a truth far bigger than any story the world tries to write over us: we are victorious in Christ. The tomb is empty. Death did not win. Sin did not last. And that same power, the same love that raised Jesus, now flows into our lives. Because of Jesus, you too, are a winner.

God’s banner over you is love (Song of Songs 2:4). His words for you are not rejection or failure — God says you, my friend, are chosen, treasured, victorious. In Christ, you are more than your past, more than your mistakes, more than the labels you or others have pinned on you.

So, in light of celebrating Easter this last weekend, I wonder: Where in your life do you need to surrender the negative narratives that don’t line up with who God says you are? What old “signs” are you still holding and reading, instead of looking to the truth God holds high over you?

This Easter season is more than a day — it’s an opportunity to step into the new life Jesus won for you again and again. It’s an invitation to dare to believe that who God says you are, is true. It’s the abundant life of seeing yourself through the lens that God looks at you, the lens of Jesus. You are not defined by what the world has written over you. You are defined by the One who won it all.

Let His banner of love rise over your life today.

I love this really practical exercise from for how to practically take our thoughts captive. You can read it by clicking here.

Some questions to ponder alone or in community:

What labels or stories are you still carrying that don’t reflect who God says you are?

Where do you need to surrender past hurts, failures, or rejection and trust God’s victory over your life?

How has Easter changed the way you see yourself in Christ this year?

Let’s pray:

God, thank You that Your victory over sin and death rewrites the story of our lives. Help us lay down the labels, regrets, and failures we’ve carried and rest in the banner of Your love. Remind us today that in Christ we are chosen, treasured, and victorious. Amen.

Cheering you on,

Em 💛

UK ladies, it’s not too late to sign up to come to the Established Conference in just over two weeks! Eeeee!!

In a world full of distractions, what if you could return to the one thing that truly matters? Join us as we set our hearts, minds, and lives on One ask, One focus, One thing — Jesus.

Click on the image above to snag your spot, or head to: emtyler.com/established

When You Miss the Mark

Em Tyler — Fri, 03 Apr 2026 05:00:49 GMT

Years ago in sunny Auckland, I was the parent helper for an activity day with my kids’ school. One of the activities was archery and I was the assigned adult for the archery activity. Channelling my inner Katniss, I lined up, pulled the string back, steadied my breathing… and let the arrow fly.

Bullseye. And again, and again.

Me channelling my inner Katniss at the archery day with my kids. Photo credit: my then-10-year-old son.

By the time the games started — where teams tried to score points by shooting arrows into other teams’ targets as well as their own — I’m pretty certain I had secured all the cool-Mum points available for the day. All that to say, this is not a post about my superior archery skills.

(Okay… maybe a little.)

But why am I telling you this on Good Friday?

Because archery is all about one thing:

The target.

Everything in archery revolves around it.

You plant your feet.
You steady your hands.
You focus your eyes.

And then you aim.

Every small adjustment is about one question:

Will this arrow hit the target?

If your stance is off, the arrow drifts. If your grip is too tight, the arrow veers. If your focus wavers, you miss. And if you’re honest, most arrows don’t land exactly where you hoped they would. Every time I’ve done archery since (not a shed load, but a few times) I have not been able to repeat the glory of that day. It seems more frequently than not these days, I tend to miss the mark.

Which brings us to one of the most important words in the Bible: the Greek word hamartia. What is this word most often translated to?

Sin.

But get this, hamartia literally means to miss the mark. To miss the target. Ooof.

Sin isn’t just about rule-breaking, at its core, it means that the arrow of our lives doesn’t land where God intended it to.

We miss.

We miss the mark in our words.

In our reactions.
In our priorities.
In our love.

Sometimes we aim badly, other times we might aim well but lack the strength to execute. Other times, we get all squirrel-brain and simply lose focus. But the result is the same: We miss the target.

The problem with sin is that no amount of trying harder, no matter how many arrows we fire, can ever fix what has already gone astray. Once the shot leaves the bow, it cannot be rewound or called back; its path cannot be undone. The arrow cannot be redirected, and the mark it was meant to hit remains untouched. In the same way, our missteps, our failures, our moments of falling short cannot be erased by effort alone—they leave a trajectory behind that only God’s intervention can truly redeem.

Which is why Good Friday matters so much. Because Jesus did what none of us could do.

He hit the target.

When Jesus went to the cross, it wasn’t accidental.
It wasn’t a tragic miscalculation.
It wasn’t history spinning out of control.

It was deliberate.

The Hebrews writer reminds us in 2:12 that it was “For the joy set before [that] him he endured the cross, scorning its shame” (NIV). Jesus had 20:20 vision when it came to seeing the target clearly. His goal was clear, his eyes locked in, his focus set. On what?

Love. Redemption. You.

And he didn’t miss.

All those years ago, as he aligned himself in the trajectory of the cross, Jesus took the arrows of our missed shots — every failure, every regret, every moment we fall short and miss the mark — and carried them himself.

When I played the ‘hit-the-other-target-game’ I wasn’t just doing it for myself. I was doing it for the team. Enabling them to achieve something they couldn’t have otherwise achieved. Jesus didn’t just aim for the cross; he became the target for every arrow we had ever fired and missed — every failure, every regret, every moment we fell short, every sin. He took them all upon himself. For us.

Paul writes:

“God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.”
– 2 Corinthians 5:21, NIV

In other words, Jesus stepped into the path of every arrow that had gone wrong. And on the cross, he absorbed them.

Our failure to hit the mark has once-for-all been dealt with. All because Jesus aimed his life toward the cross —

…and did not miss.

Where have you experienced God meeting you in the places you once felt you had missed the mark?

Let’s pray:

Jesus, thank you for taking the weight of our sin upon yourself on the cross. Thank you for carrying every missed mark, every failure, and every moment we fell short, so that we could be made right with God. Help us to rest in your grace today, trusting that your love covers what we could never fix. Amen.

And today, as we remember the cross, may we pause long enough to recognise the depth of love that aimed straight for us.

Cheering you on,

Em 💛

UK ladies, it’s not too late to sign up to come to the Established Conference in just over three weeks! In a world full of distractions, what if you could return to the one thing that truly matters? Join us as we set our hearts, minds, and lives on One ask, One focus, One thing—Jesus.

Click on the image above to snag your spot, or head to: emtyler.com/established

Hidden leaks might be stealing from you

Em Tyler — Fri, 27 Mar 2026 06:00:51 GMT

My lovely tenants sent me a video. Water was pooling on the pavement outside their house. It didn’t look too bad. We alerted the water company, they came, fixed it. Job done. Sweet . . . or so I thought.

Several weeks later, the damp patches returned on top of the freshly ‘repaired’ pavement. Closer inspection revealed that despite the insane rain we’d been having, it turns out that under the surface of the front garden lay a somewhat old and dilapidated pipe that was no longer adequately containing that which it was supposed to carry.

Boo.

Whaddya know, fixing supply pipes to properties isn’t a cheap procedure and, fun fact (reader, this is in no way fun), not covered by insurance. So I left it. No, clearly not. Leaving something leaking under the ground would only damage the ground further and create ridiculous costs to the tenants as water continued to leak on its way into the property.

A surface fix can’t solve the source of the problem.

This whole very unfun situation reminded me of what Jesus said in Luke 6:45 NIV: A good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart, and an evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart. For the mouth speaks what the heart is full of.

In the original Greek, the phrase for ‘what the heart is full of’ is literally ‘from the abundance of the heart’. The imagery is of overflow — what is inside inevitably pours out. Jesus wasn’t just talking about words; He was describing life itself. Behaviour, speech, decisions, and patterns all flow from what’s hidden inside. If the heart is ‘leaking’, the signs will eventually appear on the outside.

Just like the supply pipe under the garden, symptoms might be obvious — water on the pavement, increasing bills, frustration, bitterness, anxiety — but the source of the problem remained hidden. Treating only symptoms is a temporary fix and not a lasting solution. It may look like progress, but the leak persists.

Proverbs 4:23 drives the same point home: ‘Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.’ I recently saw an excerpt from a talk Pete Hughes gave at the Renaissance conference in London where, speaking of this verse, he points out that in a whole book all about distilling wisdom, this is the pinnacle moment. ‘Above all else,’ Solomon wrote, ‘guard your heart’. Guarding the heart is about so much more than avoiding bad behaviour and in this case, it’s intentionally uncovering hidden leaks, assessing what’s beneath the surface, and repairing what’s quietly causing damage.

Fixing the hidden leak in the garden took effort. It meant digging, disruption, discomfort, and cost. It cost us financially, physically, with time and resources. It wasn’t easy. But once the source was repaired, the pooling stopped and the garden (and water bills!) could recover. Sometimes, God calls us to do the same in our own lives: identify hidden sources of fear, resentment, or unhealed wounds, and bring them into the light for repair.

Because real restoration — and real overflow — begins beneath the surface.

Where in your life are you noticing symptoms but ignoring the source? What would it look like to trace the ‘leak’ to its origin and let God repair it?

Let’s pray:

Lord, show me the hidden leaks in my heart. Help me see what’s quietly shaping my words, my actions, and my thoughts. Give me courage to dig deep and let Your Spirit repair what is broken. Search me and know me. Point out the places that are causing the problems. For your glory and the good of myself and others, amen.

Cheering you on,

Em 💛

If you want to learn how to ask God for wisdom and follow Him more intentionally — you can start today with 31 Days of Pursuing Wisdom, available on Amazon. It’s a daily guide through the book of Proverbs, designed to help you see God’s wisdom in action in your everyday life.

Purchase 31 Days of Pursuing Wisdom (through the book of Proverbs) here:

The OG Influencer — No Social Media, No Selfies

Em Tyler — Fri, 20 Mar 2026 06:01:10 GMT

It’s funny how relationships have changed. Today, we can feel deeply connected to people we’ve never met in person — through DMs, group chats, online communities, or live streams. We cheer each other on, share wins and struggles, and sometimes feel seen in ways that surprise us. And yet, there’s a tension: can someone you’ve never met really care for you? Can they truly build you up?

I think yes.

Long before Substack or Zoom calls, Paul was doing exactly that. He wrote letters to churches he had never visited and in some cases, may never have visited at all. Colossae, for example: Paul had never met most of the believers there and yet he poured his heart into them through his letters, with a burning desire to see them grow strong, rooted in Christ, and flourishing as local communities of faith.

I want you to realize that I continue to work as hard as I know how for you, and also for the Christians over at Laodicea. Not many of you have met me face-to-face, but that doesn’t make any difference. Know that I’m on your side, right alongside you. You’re not in this alone.
‭‭—Colossians 2:1 MSG, emphasis mine.

Not gonna lie, I read this, and it resonated so deeply. This is how I feel about you guys (well, some of you, ha!). We might not have met face-to-face and yet I am on. your. side. Cheering you on.

Even from a distance, Paul saw them. He knew their struggles, their potential, and he reminded them that their work, their obedience, their faithfulness . . . it all mattered.

I’m a long way off, true, and you may never lay eyes on me, but believe me, I’m on your side, right beside you. I am delighted to hear of the careful and orderly ways you conduct your affairs, and impressed with the solid substance of your faith in Christ.
‭‭—Colossians 2:5 MSG, emphasis mine.

Paul’s letters weren’t just pep talks, they were formative. He wasn’t seeking followers or fame; he was building life, character, and faith in real communities. He wanted them to grow, yes — but more than that, he wanted them to go: to live out what they had received, let their obedience spill into thanksgiving, and impact the world around them. Come on, Paul . . . preach!

My counsel for you is simple and straightforward: Just go ahead with what you’ve been given. You received Christ Jesus, the Master; now live him. You’re deeply rooted in him. You’re well constructed upon him. You know your way around the faith. Now do what you’ve been taught. School’s out; quit studying the subject and start living it! And let your living spill over into thanksgiving.
‭‭—Colossians 2:6-7 MSG

Grow, yes, says Paul, but don’t stop there. Go. Step out. Live the faith you’ve received. Share it. Pour it into your community. Let it multiply. Someone (seen or unseen) is cheering you on. Someone’s on your team.

Paul’s example reminds us that spiritual care doesn’t have to be limited by geography or physical presence. Influence and encouragement can travel farther than we imagine through letters, words, prayers . . . acts of faith can change lives even when we’re not physically present. So don’t let geography stop you from cheering someone else on. Know that showing up, your presence, your offering that you release into the world might just be the thing that helps someone else to Grow + Go.

And that makes me, SUPER excited. Let’s go cheer others on!

Who in your life — even someone you’ve never met in person — has poured encouragement, guidance, or faith into you? How could you be that person for someone else this week?

Support the Grow + Go Ministry here!

Let’s pray:

Lord, thank You for the people You place around us — both those near and far — who spur us on in faith, offer encouragement, and remind us that we’re not alone. Help us to grow deeply in You, to live the faith we’ve received, and to be part of building up the local church wherever we have been stationed. May our lives encourage others, just as Paul encouraged the early churches, even from afar. For your glory, amen.

If this resonated, share it with someone who might need permission to sit down too.

Cheering you on,

Em 💛

Ladies + Gents - there are just three days left to make the most of getting 35% off ANY paid subscription for life!

AND,

Purchase 31 Days of Pursuing Wisdom (through the book of Proverbs) here:

Train Setter or Trend Setting?

Em Tyler — Fri, 13 Mar 2026 06:01:18 GMT

It had been a long and full day at work, I had rushed to the station in the hopes of getting a slightly earlier train home. You know a) to be able to be picked up from the station the other end and b) because getting to the station a little before the commuter rush usually guarantees a seat.

Not this time.

Running up the stairs to the platform, because (of course) the escalator was not in service, legging it onto the just closing doors of the train, and yup. No seats. There was however, a bit of wall next to the bin, so I leant there, opened my book, and hoped that in a stop of two some seats might emerge.

They didn’t.

And so, after a while, I slowly squatted down, resting on my heels, leaning my head against the ~~bin~~ (give me some credit, I’m not a heathen) back of a chair. But after a while, obviously, my legs got tired from the squat and so I gave in and plopped right down onto the train floor. Shut my eyes and rested.

And you know what? The air was actually surprisingly cool down there. One could say almost refreshing! As stations came and went, I got a few quizzical looks and side-eyes, people didn’t see me, one lady got a shock when she went to put something into the bin and a small woman was underneath it, and there were plenty of double takes as commuters got on and off the train.

A couple of stations later, a businessman (don’t worry, he wasn’t wearing suit trousers, although I imagine they might have been rather expensive chinos, this is London darhling) lowered himself down against the central pole. Not dramatically. Not sheepishly. Just . . . decisively.

Two people on the floor. I felt a strange camaraderie and smiled to myself, turns out, it doesn’t take much to change the atmosphere because shortly after that a super tall, very cool, headphones-blaring twenty-something dude also slunk down and sat on the floor lent against the door.

We were quite the floor gang.

The Psychology of the First Mover

Social psychologists call it norm formation. Groups look to each other to determine what’s acceptable. Most of us won’t be the first to break a visible social rule — even a harmless one — because standing out triggers something ancient in us.

Belonging equals safety.
Difference risks rejection.

In the 1950s, psychologist Solomon Asch ran experiments showing that people would knowingly give wrong answers about simple visual comparisons if the rest of the group did first.1

Participants had to ascertain which line on the right was the same length as the line on the left in the image below. The answer is obvious, but what the participant in the research didn’t know is that all the other ‘participants’ were in fact part of the experiment and had scripted answers to choose the wrong line.

Example of the type of visual comparison Asch used.

And the unsuspecting volunteers went with the room. Not because they believed the lie, but because they didn’t want to be the odd one out. Have you ever felt that pull? The desire to blend in rather than stand out?

We underestimate how powerful that pull is. But what’s really interesting (I think) is that is doesn’t take many to disrupt a false norm. In fact, one person is enough.

Research since Asch has shown that when even a small minority consistently hold a different position, others feel permission to reconsider their own assumptions. Courage is contagious. Turns out sitting down can start a revolution.

Pioneering Isn’t Loud

I love the word pioneer. I have a giant swaddle cloth in my office pinned to the wall which reads:

You were born to blaze new trails. Pioneer great adventures. Reclaim new territory. Take daring risks. You were born to tell an original story, be God strong and foolishly courageous. Let faith not fear be your compass. Truth not lies be your guide. Always remember to give God room to prove himself faithful. You were born for such a time as this.

Fun fact, this hung in the hallway in our first home in New Zealand, what a welcome to our home. Come on!

I think we sometimes hear the word ‘pioneer’ and imagine people with platforms, microphones, manifestos, or movements.

But what if pioneering is as simple as holding the door, extending a hand, encouraging a stranger, or sitting on a floor?

What if doing the slightly odd thing: speaking up, forgiving first, putting down your mobile when others are present, is actually the thing that’s going to shift an atmosphere and make space for others to be bold and courageous as well?

I don’t think pioneering is about being dramatic, I think it’s as simple (and as hard) as being willing to go first. And let’s face it, going first may well leave you exposed. It might well open you up to a few side-eyes or silent judgement, heck sometimes even the not-so-silent judgement from others as well.

But where could you be first this week?

The first to pray out loud.
The first to set a boundary.
The first to leave the unhealthy job.
The first to speak hope into a cynical room.
The first to say, “What about trying something new, I think we could do this differently.”

You might look strange for a moment. But hold your ground. It only takes one or two before you’ve got a team.

Let’s face it, we’re following a Saviour-King who rarely followed the social script of his day: He touched the untouchable, spoke to the overlooked, broke the religious rules, made space for the outcast, embraced the rejected . . .

Following Jesus should be seen. Not everyone will like it. Some will judge silently, others out loud. But,

Here’s another way to put it: You’re here to be light, bringing out the God-colors in the world. God is not a secret to be kept. We’re going public with this, as public as a city on a hill. If I make you light-bearers, you don’t think I’m going to hide you under a bucket, do you? I’m putting you on a light stand. Now that I’ve put you there on a hilltop, on a light stand—shine! Keep open house; be generous with your lives. By opening up to others, you’ll prompt people to open up with God, this generous Father in heaven.
– Matthew 5:14-16 MSG

When we’re prepared to go first, to open up, to pave the way, to set the scene, it makes space for others to dare to open up before God themselves.

So go first, pioneer. Be the floor-sitter. The one who chooses the slightly odd, slightly uncomfortable, but right thing. It might look strange for a moment. Some will raise eyebrows. Some will whisper. Some won’t notice at all.

You might not see the immediate impact of your choice. But just like that train floor, others are watching, waiting for permission to act. Your small move — praying first, speaking hope, forgiving first, sitting down when it feels odd — can quietly set the tone for an entire community.

Where might God be calling you to go first this week — to pioneer courage, faith, or kindness in a way that others may follow?

Let’s pray:

Lord, help me be willing to go first, even when it feels strange or uncomfortable. Let my small acts of courage and faithfulness open the way for others to follow You. Remind me that You are with me, and that obedience, however hidden, can change everything. Renew my mind so I’m shaped more by Your truth than by social pressure. Help my small obedience make space for others to breathe and believe again. In Jesus’ name, amen.

If this resonated, share it with someone who might need permission to sit down too.

Cheering you on,

Em 💛

Psst: I’ve got a 35% off paid subscriptions for LIFE running at the moment. Want to make the most of this deal?

AND . . .

And if you’re a woman who wants to go deeper, I’d love to invite you to join the Grow + Go Pursuing Wisdom cohort where we’ll use this resource throughout March and April (it’s not too late to join us).

https://www.age-of-the-sage.org/psychology/social/asch_conformity.html

Purchase 31 Days of Pursuing Wisdom (through the book of Proverbs) here:

What Jesus + the NFL have in common.

Em Tyler — Fri, 06 Mar 2026 06:01:08 GMT

I had my bag packed carefully. I was low-key very proud of myself for remembering snacks for the journey, treats to share once there, my tablet so I could read on the train, a beanie because sitting in the stands can get chilly. I had thought it through so well.

Heading to watch my very first NFL game in London and I had every scenario covered. Or so I thought. I got to the station and whipped out my phone to see a message my brother had sent a few hours earlier: No bags.

Thankfully, I had time before the train would arrive to call my hubby to come back and collect my rucksack (that I had owned for over two decades). But then there was the dilemma. What to stuff into my pockets. The fancy chocolate and sweets I had bought to share made the cut, my phone and powerbank (#oldphone), and that was about all I could squeeze in.

Then I arrived at the stadium.

I dutifully emptied my pockets as I walked through the scanners only to be told I couldn’t bring my chocolate in. What is this crazy land we’re living in that even giant dairy milk buttons are a no-go?! Pfft. Not gonna lie, I felt a little like I was one of the 72 that Jesus sent out in Luke 10:4a NIV aka “Do not take a purse or bag or sandals . . .” Perhaps Jesus was sending them to the NFL.

All the carefully curated things I’d wanted to bring with me and all I was allowed was my phone and charger. That was it. Sad times. Walking into the stadium, I felt Holy Spirit nudge me:

What are you trying to take with you that Jesus isn’t asking you to carry?

Eeesh.

Not everything we carry is sinful.
Not everything we pack is wrong.
Some things are just unnecessary weight for where we’re going.

Maybe it’s habits that once helped but now hinder, mindsets that kept us safe but now keep us stuck, old narratives, old fears, old versions of ourselves that were useful in one season but don’t belong in the next.

And yet, the bigger question isn’t only what to leave behind.

It’s: What should I carry? What do I need to bring — and what do I need to ask God to give me along the way?

You know what we need? We need wisdom. Wisdom to know what to pack. Wisdom to make decisions that honour God. Wisdom for the journey He’s calling us to.

James 1:5 NIV reminds us where we can get this wisdom: “If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you.” And you know what? Asking God for wisdom pleases Him as we see in 1 Kings 3:10 after Solomon had asked for wisdom more than anything else in the world.

What is one area of your life right now where you need God’s wisdom?

How can you invite Him to guide you in what to carry and what to trust Him with?

Let’s pray:

Jesus, I admit I don’t have all the answers. Help me to trust You with what I carry and what I release. Give me wisdom for each step I take, and guide me in the choices I need to make. Teach me to lean on You, to ask for help, and to receive Your guidance day by day. Amen.

Come as you are. Ask for help. Learn to walk wisely with God.

Cheering you on,

Em 💛

Friends, we don’t have to figure it out alone. We can come to God and ask for help, trusting that He will guide us in what to hold, what to release, and what to rely on Him for.

If this resonates — if you want to learn how to ask God for wisdom and follow Him more intentionally — you can start today with 31 Days of Pursuing Wisdom, available on Amazon. It’s a daily guide through the book of Proverbs, designed to help you see God’s wisdom in action in your everyday life.

And if you’re a woman who wants to go deeper, I’d love to invite you to join the Grow + Go Pursuing Wisdom cohort where we’ll use this resource throughout March and April.

We’ll spend two months diving into Proverbs together, exploring how God’s wisdom shapes our decisions, rhythms, and daily life. Weekly Zoom calls will guide us through Scripture, reflection, and conversation (recordings provided if you can’t make them live). Get all the details here:

If you’d rather journey solo, the Bible reading plan and journal are available too — you can still engage with the rhythms and reflections at your own pace.

A stack of Bible reading plan and journal: 31 Days of Pursuing Wisdom.

Purchase 31 Days of Pursuing Wisdom (through the book of Proverbs) here:

The Wagon Wheel Secret to a Life That Stays on Track

Em Tyler — Fri, 27 Feb 2026 06:00:51 GMT

I’ve never understood the obsession with Wagon Wheels. Marshmallow and chocolate between two biscuits. I’m sorry, but ugh. Yet weirdly, millions of people across the UK, Australia, Canada, and New Zealand have grown up loving them. Why is this? Perhaps it’s nostalgia, maybe it’s the layered biscuit, marshmallow, and chocolate.

Either way, the ladies and I in the Pursuing Wisdom cohort at the moment are getting stuck into the book of Proverbs. Not gonna lie, it’s really challenging me on a number of levels in ways I definitely didn’t see coming. That being said, also fully loving the revelations and exploration we’re going on together. (It’s not too late to join us, deets at the bottom).

Proverbs 1–9 is framed as a father’s appeal, urging the young and inexperienced to pursue wisdom with the diligence of one seeking treasure. Wisdom here is not only intellectual knowledge, it is also practical, relational, and moral. It is the skill of navigating life under God’s guidance, choosing paths that honour Him, protect others, and sustain our souls. One of the stand out verses for me this week was Proverbs 2:9: ‘Then you will understand what is right and just and fair—every good path.’

Now, I’ve no idea why (let’s put it down to Holy Spirit knowing how much fun I’d have unpacking it) but the phrase every good path properly stood out to me and so of course I went off on a treasure hunt to understand it more. Now, the Hebrew word for ‘path’ is magal, which literally refers to wagon tracks pressed into soft earth.

In the Enduring Word commentary by David Guzik, he quotes Waltke: “While the earth is soft, wagon wheels press the trails that others are obliged to follow after it dries and hardens.” Guzik goes on to say, ‘we will make tracks, ruts, paths for our life – wisdom helps us to make good and useful “ruts” or habits.’1

The topical lexicon on Biblehub.com explains that this verb, magal, is one that ‘pictures a clearly marked track worn smooth by repeated use—an established course along which feet, carts, or flocks move with confidence. Its circular nuance suggests a path that reliably brings the traveler back in line when he veers, emphasizing stability rather than adventure. In Scripture it functions both literally, of military or shepherding routes, and figuratively, of the moral and spiritual orientations that shape a life.’

If you’ve spent any time at all with me over the past couple of years then you already know where I’m going with this. Our repeated choices create grooves in our lives — tracks that influence our next steps, our character, and even the people around us. Wisdom teaches us to intentionally press the good tracks. Left unchecked, life’s choices still leave tracks — but they might not lead where we want to go.

Remind you of anything?

Neuroplasticity!

We’ve chatted before about the phenomenal ability our brains have to form new neural connections based on repeated experience, thought, and action. Each time we exercise patience, honesty, generosity, or prayer, our brains strengthen those pathways. Each time we give in to fear, resentment, or distraction, we deepen those ruts instead. Just like wagon wheels pressing tracks into soft earth, our habits, thoughts, and repeated choices create ‘grooves’ in the neural landscape of our minds. Over time, those grooves become strong, automatic pathways that guide our behaviour almost without thought.

Come on. Is that not so cool?!

Pursuing wisdom is not abstract — it is highly practical. It is intentionally pressing the ‘good tracks’ in our minds and hearts. It is choosing repeated, small steps of obedience, reflection, and prayer that create durable habits of righteousness, justice, and equity. And as much as I dislike the sweet snack, like the layered Wagon Wheel (biscuits, marshmallow, chocolate) the process is cumulative. Each layer builds on the previous one, forming something strong, cohesive, and sweet to the taste of God.

Which tracks do you want to leave in your life? What repeated choices today will press grooves of wisdom, love, and obedience into your heart and mind? Don’t forget that the earth is soft, we can choose which tracks to embed. Perhaps God is inviting you to press your wagon wheel with wisdom, leaving tracks that will guide your steps and others’ (don’t get me started on this!) for years to come.

What is one intentional habit, thought pattern, or spiritual practice you can begin today to press a good path in your life?

How can you invite God’s wisdom to guide it?

It turns out that wisdom can take us on every good path.

Again and again, forever and amen! How can you invite Him to guide you in what to carry and what to trust Him with?

Em 💛

Let’s pray:

Father, thank you for the gift of wisdom and the ability to form paths in our lives that honour you. Help us to be intentional with our choices, pressing grooves of righteousness and love into our hearts and minds. May the paths we leave behind guide us closer to you and draw others toward your truth. In Jesus’ name, for your glory, amen.

Ladies if you want to join us in the Pursuing Wisdom Cohort it’s not too late and you also get a PDF of the 31 Days of Pursuing Wisdom bible reading plan and journal free.

https://enduringword.com/bible-commentary/proverbs-2/

If you’d rather journey solo, the Bible reading plan and journal are available too — you can still engage with the rhythms and reflections at your own pace.

A stack of Bible reading plan and journal: 31 Days of Pursuing Wisdom.

Purchase 31 Days of Pursuing Wisdom (through the book of Proverbs) here:

When Your Vision Goes Cloudy

Em Tyler — Fri, 20 Feb 2026 06:01:13 GMT

A white snake coiled with the title ‘When Your Vision Goes Cloudy’ and subtitle ‘Shedding, Surrender, and Spiritual Growth’ overlaid.

I was on a call recently with a number of friends and one after the other they shared about how 2026 hasn’t exactly begun with a rush of joy, more like trial after trial and difficulty upon difficulty.

One friend in particular shared about the implications of some health challenges and the need to lay down a number of responsibilities. As she shared, a picture came to mind of a snake shedding its skin.

A quick google later and I discovered some snake-shedding facts which led to (also on the call) declaring WRITE THE SUBSTACK NOW (and the threat that if I didn’t, he would). So. Here we are.

Here’s some fun facts that I learnt:

Snakes have to shed their skin because their skin doesn’t grow with them. If they didn’t shed, they would quite literally outgrow what once protected them. What once kept them safe would become restrictive, limited, even dangerous.
The shedding of the skin also gets rid of parasites and repairs any damage to the body of the snake. And, this is the one that really got me:
Before a snake sheds, its eyes turn cloudy. Its colours dull, vision is impaired. Consequently, the lack of clarity and vision makes the snake feel super vulnerable and so it will often hide. I mean, come on . . . as Bob Goff says, that’ll preach.

When the new layer of skin has formed underneath, the old one will peel away revealing brighter skin, and restored clarity of sight.

Growth Requires Letting Go

I don’t know about you, but I for one have had seasons where it’s felt like God is growing me beyond what feels comfortable. Old habits, old identities, old coping mechanisms, even old seasons of calling can become too small for who we are becoming in Christ.

Perhaps what once protected you is now quietly constricting you. So instead of viewing letting go of the old as rejection or failure, what if we recognised the shredding as obedience to step forward into the new thing God is calling us to?

“Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing!” (Isaiah 43:18–19, NIV)

Shedding Removes What Harms

Shedding also removes parasites and damaged skin — things attached that slowly drain life.

“Let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles.” (Hebrews 12:1, NIV)

Sometimes what we’re laying down isn’t neutral. It’s sin, unhealthy patterns, people-pleasing, striving, or identities that kept us alive in past seasons but are now quietly suffocating us. Sometimes it’s good things that God is asking us to lay down. Things that are great and wonderful and beautiful, but no longer for this season. Shedding can hurt.

God’s kindness is not just in what He adds, but in what He peels away.

The Cloudy-Eyed Season

Before shedding, a snake’s vision becomes cloudy. That feels painfully familiar. Eeesh. Again, there have been many occasions over the years where clarity has been conspicuously absent. The vision ahead has not been clear and in my uncertainty (and lack of control) I have felt super vulnerable. Cue the tears, the rage, the retreating . . .

Those in-between stages, the moments of growth from what was, to what is coming can feel so disorienting, even frightening. You are not who you were, but you’re also not fully sure who you’re becoming or where God is leading you next.

I suppose this might mean you’re shedding.

“For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face.” (1 Corinthians 13:12, NIV)

If I always had the answers, the clarity, the 20:20 vision, I know that I would charge ahead in my own strength determined to bless Jesus in the process. And so, I know for me, that from time to time God allows the blur so that I’ll lean into Him rather than clinging to what I can perceive. You, too?

His power becomes our strength when we’re no longer relying on our own understanding and vision (Proverbs 3:5; 2 Corinthians 12:9).

Brighter Skin. Clearer Vision.

Friend, if you’re in an unknown, uncomfortable, unseen season. Can I encourage you: the shedding the Lord is inviting you into will not be wasted. He might be growing you, ridding you of parasites that are eating away at your peace, stretching you to receive a brighter, clearer, more colourful vision of what’s ahead.

God doesn’t waste the friction, the discomfort, or the surrender.

What might God be inviting you to lay down—not because it was wrong, but because you’ve outgrown it?

Let’s pray:

Jesus, give us grace to shed what no longer fits the life You are growing in us. In the cloudy and vulnerable seasons, help us trust that new skin is forming. Make us brave enough to rub against what feels uncomfortable so that we can walk in renewed clarity and freedom. Amen.

May you have the courage to shed what no longer fits and the faith to trust what God is growing next.

Cheering you on,

Em 💛

Calling all ladies, early access to the first Grow + Go Cohort is OPEN

Just like a snake sheds its old skin to grow, sometimes we need space to let go, make room, and step into what God is forming in us. Faith isn’t meant to be exercised alone — growth happens best in community.

That’s why I’m so excited to let you know that early access to the first Grow + Go Cohort: 31 Days of Pursuing Wisdom is available now. This is a place to step into persistent faith, reflect on Scripture, and grow together — cheering each other on as we navigate seasons of change, shedding, and renewal.

If you’d rather journey solo, the Bible reading plan and journal are available too — you can still engage with the rhythms and reflections at your own pace.

Purchase 31 Days of Pursuing Wisdom (through the book of Proverbs) here:

Come ready to grow, ready to let go of what no longer fits, and ready to see God’s new work emerge — together.

Who’s Occupying Your Land?

Em Tyler — Fri, 13 Feb 2026 06:00:33 GMT

I was reading Joshua 12 recently and not gonna lie, it’s one of those chapters that you might be tempted to skim-read. I mean the layout of the page alone indicated that there were lists of names and blah-blah-blah.

Except this time, something stopped me in my tracks and suddenly the 31 Kings that were defeated took on a whole new meaning.

Here was a list of Kings that had been defeated, named, and counted.

Thirty-one in total.

I guess they stood out to me because I’d just finished some stuff on 31 Days of Beginning Again and was working on 31 Days of Pursuing Wisdom (news just in: this will be the first Grow + Go Cohort!). So, well, 31 was on the brain.

A military record of 31 Kings that no longer held territory in the land that had been promised to the Israelites. And yet, before the Israelites move into the neighbourhood, Scripture takes a moment to name the kings that no longer rule there.

And I wonder. I just wonder. Is there land in your life that has been taken over? Are there things or people or situations that have been governing you? And . . . if ‘land’ in the Bible is often about inheritance, fruitfulness, rest, and presence, then it begs the question:

What is currently ruling the land of our lives—our time, attention, energy, inner world—that God intends to give us?

Kings Don’t Always Look Like Enemies

Most of the kings Israel defeated weren’t doing anything particularly dramatic. They were simply occupying space that God had promised to His people. In the same way, the kings that rule us now are rarely obvious sins. They’re often socially acceptable, even celebrated.

The’re probably not shouting or attacking. But they might be

Scheduling.
Distracting.
Normalising.

Perhaps even quietly demanding tribute.

So what are the sorts of kings occupying space in our lives that we’re called to defeat? What about:

1. The King of Hurry

2. The King of Overcommitment

3. The King of Comparison

4. The King of People-Pleasing

5. The King of Fear

6. The King of Control

7. The King of Comfort

8. The King of Busyness

9. The King of Distraction

10. The King of Self-Reliance

11. The King of Perfectionism

12. The King of Noise

13. The King of Productivity

14. The King of Guilt

15. The King of Shame

16. The King of Familiarity

17. The King of Scarcity

18. The King of Cynicism

19. The King of Image

20. The King of Exhaustion

21. The King of Achievement

22. The King of Approval Metrics

23. The King of Delay

24. The King of Independence

25. The King of Resentment

26. The King of Worry

27. The King of Nostalgia

28. The King of Spiritual Apathy

29. The King of Self-Protection

30. The King of Familiar Sin

31. The King of Half-Obedience

I imagine some of these ‘kings’ may have once protected us. Some might have helped us survive a season. But survival kings make poor long-term rulers.

How are we to defeat them?
I’m pretty sure it’s not by trying harder.

The story of Joshua isn’t about Israel gritting their teeth and mustering heroic spiritual discipline. It’s about God going ahead of them, while their role was to keep responding, step by step, in obedience.

That’s what struck me about Joshua 12. The chapter doesn’t explain the strategy, the battles, the moments of fear or faith. It just names what no longer rules which somehow feels important. Because the things we never name often quietly keep their power.

Naming isn’t condemnation. It’s clarity. And bringing things into the light is often the beginning of freedom. Friends, this isn’t a call to be more disciplined or spiritually impressive. It’s not about batteering yourself into submission and ‘conquering’ all the parts of you that struggle of lend themselves to leaning on something or someone other than Jesus. It’s an invitation to notice what has taken up space that God never intended to surrender.

A Diagnostic Question

If your time, emotional energy, and attention were a map . . .

• Where is there fruit?

• Where is there resistance?

• Where is there exhaustion?

• Where is there no peace?

Those places often reveal which ‘king’ is still ruling the land.

In the comments, if you’re willing:

1. Which “king” felt most familiar as you read?

2. Where do you sense God inviting you to reclaim territory—not by effort, but by surrender?

3. What would change if that king no longer ruled your time or inner world?

You don’t defeat all thirty-one kings at once.
But you do begin by recognising who is ruling today.

And sometimes, naming the true King is the first step in reclaiming the land.

Cheering you on,

Em 💛

Let’s pray:

God of promise, You are not just the giver of land—you are the rightful King of it. We confess that we have allowed other rulers to occupy space You intended for rest, joy, obedience, and presence. We name what has governed us. Not with shame—but with trust. Where hurry has ruled, teach us to abide. Where fear has ruled, establish Your peace. Where control has ruled, deepen our surrender. Where distraction has ruled, restore our attention. We lay down crowns that were never ours to wear. And we ask You to take Your rightful place again. Reclaim what belongs to You. In Jesus’ name, amen.

A place to grow in faith together

Faith isn’t meant to be exercised alone. That’s why I’m so excited about something God’s been speaking to me about for all Grow + Go women in 2026 and beyond: Grow + Go Cohorts—a place where we can grow in faith together, step into persistence, and let what God is doing in our hearts spill out into our churches, our communities and the world.

Sometimes following Jesus can feel like a long road—full of wonder, yes, but also fatigue, distraction, and seasons where we wonder if we’ll keep going, or how we’ll make it through. Grow + Go Cohorts exist to cheer you on to go the distance with Jesus. They are intentional, Scripture-led formation journeys designed to help you keep growing, keep listening, and keep walking faithfully with Christ. You can come and go as you please with no ongoing commitment. It might be a 21-day challenge, a 31-day Bible reading plan, a book club, or something else. Cohorts stand alone, or, you can stick around and join in with them all.

They aren’t about perfection, hype, or performance. Instead, each cohort is designed to fit your life, not add to it. They are communal journeys you choose how to engage with, when to join, and how often you participate.

Inside a G+G Cohort, you’ll find:

A private, distraction‑free, dedicated space to grow in faith without the noise of social media (hurrah)!
Scripture‑rich teaching and reflection that helps you cultivate spiritual attentiveness.
Live teaching, coaching, and chats with me (and recordings if you can’t attend live) to help you take what you’re learning into real life.
Occasional masterclasses with trusted voices on faith, calling, leadership, and intentional living.

If this resonates with you, I’d love for you to join the waitlist and take the first step:

Come ready to grow, ready to step out in faith, and ready to let God move through you—together.

Downward Trend, Upward Obedience

Em Tyler — Fri, 06 Feb 2026 06:00:42 GMT

So, here’s a picture of my subscribers graph. Not exactly the ones you’re used to seeing in your feed on Substack, no?!

Because many would look at this and say it’s going the wrong way. Down.

I’ve been on this platform a little over a year and in 2025 saw insane growth in terms of reach, subscribers and followers that didn’t really make sense to me. Apart from, But God. Because, God had chosen a stranger at my Mum’s church (when I wasn’t even present), and three unlinked individuals within the space of one week to give me a message at the end of 2024. That message?

Throw the seed.

Throw the seed and God was going to send the chickens. If you’re reading this, you might be one of those chickens. No offence. But I’m glad you’re here, honestly. What was the point of that picture/word? That I didn’t need to go hunting for chickens, I didn’t need to go wandering, marketing, pushing, strategising. My job, God said, was to throw the seed. Was to stand planted exactly where He’d put me (incidentally valley-esque at the time, definitely not mountain-top), and throw the seed.

And as I obediently started ‘throwing the seed’ in posts that sought to help ordinary, everyday believers keep growing and going with God, he used this platform growth to bring me not only a publishing contract but also an agent (weirdly, yes, in that order, such is His topsy-turvy way of working)!

When I knew that a potential agent was watching my growth on Substack, seeing a graph like the one above would have sent me into a spiral of panic.

But somehow in all of the wild and wonderful things that God has done this last year, He’s also shown me in so many ways that faithfulness isn’t measured in numbers, obedience isn’t tracked by graphs, and service isn’t counted by reach.

This year, more than a word of phrase (although I do have one of those too), I think I’m going to adopt a verse for the year. And the one that I just keep coming back to again and again is Proverbs 16:8 which tells us:

Better a little with righteousness
than much gain with injustice.

There it is in black and white: God cares about the rightness of what we do, not how many people see it. He cares about our faithfulness, not fame. About our obedience, not optics. He cares so much more about who we’re becoming rather than who we’re reaching.

And so now the graph is not only slowing down but going in reverse. And while I’m preaching from my perch saying I’m okay with it. It would be a big fat lie if I didn’t confess that sure, there’s a part of me that does care. Of course I want everyone to come on the journey. Of course I want the encouragement to go far and wide. I absolutely want the graph to go up because, well… I’m human, and a big part of me still falls into the trap of measuring my worth by what others say or subscribe to! At times it can feel like proof that what I’m doing matters. Let’s face it: pride and ambition rear their heads in subtle and convincing ways.

But bit by bit I’m learning that it truly is better to go faithfully with a few, to nourish and nurture one another, to walk together, to cheer each other on, than to chase numbers and have words rattling around in a big echo chamber. Because my friends, it’s not about the mass; it’s about the measure of faithfulness in our hearts.

So here’s what obedience looks like right now for me: I’m gonna keep throwing out encouragement. I’m going to keep sharing what God is teaching me. Keep loving well. Keep writing. Keep inviting believers to press into Jesus. Keep cheering you on to grow and go with God. Not for the graph, not for the accolades, but because
He told me to.

And if something in all this resonates and you want to go deeper intentionally, away from the social media noise, I’d love to invite you into something that I’m SO ants-in-my-pants excited about. This year, I will be launching:

Grow + Go Cohorts

These cohorts aren’t about consuming more content or adding another thing to your feed. Gosh no, we are not designed to constantly consume content. They will be intentional, set-apart spaces—away from the noise and metrics of social media—designed for women who are serious about letting Jesus be Lord of all of life. They’re about showing up, being formed, opening Scripture together, and choosing faithfulness over frenzy. Not passive scrolling, but purposeful walking. A clear start and end point each time. Not growth for growth’s sake, but obedience that shapes who we’re becoming.

And because this is about obedience and access—not exclusion—the cohorts will run on a pay-as-you-feel model. No one is priced out. You can join for as little as $1, because depth with Jesus should never be reserved for those with disposable income.

The first cohort: 31 Days of Pursuing Wisdom (anyone can get the study: male or female!) will begin 1st March but you can join the waitlist now. We’ll walk through the book of Proverbs together with weekly Zoom sessions, reflecting, discussing, and working out together what it means and looks like to live out the wisdom God calls us to.

This is simply me throwing the seed again—and trusting God with who He brings.

Faithfulness over fame. Obedience over optics.
And even if the graph goes down, we keep going up in Him.

JOIN THE WAITLIST

I’m so excited for this journey!

Cheering you on,

Em 💛

Let’s pray:

Lord, thank You that faithfulness matters more than fame, and obedience more than optics. Help us to stay planted, to throw the seeds You’ve given us, and to trust You with the growth. Teach us to walk faithfully, even when the path is quiet and the numbers fall. May our hearts remain fixed on You, and may every word, every action, and every step bring glory to Your name. Amen.

A place to grow in faith together

Inside a G+G Cohort, you’ll find:

A private, distraction‑free, dedicated space to grow in faith without the noise of social media (hurrah)!
Scripture‑rich teaching and reflection that helps you cultivate spiritual attentiveness.
Live teaching, coaching, and chats with me (and recordings if you can’t attend live) to help you take what you’re learning into real life.
Occasional masterclasses with trusted voices on faith, calling, leadership, and intentional living.

If this resonates with you, I’d love for you to join the waitlist and take the first step:

Come ready to grow, ready to step out in faith, and ready to let God move through you—together.

If what I create—whether through writing, resources, or speaking—has been meaningful to you, please consider subscribing to stay connected! Paid subscribers help support this work on substack and beyond so I can continue equipping believers like you.

Upgrade to paid

Alternatively, if you’d like to make a one-off donation (no subscription necessary!!) to all things Grow + Go I’d be so grateful. Your support helps me keep creating freely and sharing faith-filled content. Every gift—big or small—means so much. Thank you for being a Grow + Go Believer!

Raising Faith, Not Stakes

Em Tyler — Fri, 30 Jan 2026 06:01:16 GMT

Have you ever felt like life is asking too much of you? That the pressures, the responsibilities, the expectations are stacking higher than you can manage? It can feel as though God is raising the stakes. One more challenge, one more risk, one more “if you fail, everything collapses.”

But Luke 5:17–26 tells a different story. Yep, we’re still in Luke 5 this week. Here, we meet a paralytic man, carried by friends who refused to give up. The crowd was thick. The way to Jesus wasn’t obvious, but instead of giving up, they looked up (v.19). The roof may have seemed like an impossible idea. Yet they kept going. They were persistent. They trusted that if they could just get to Jesus everything would be okay. And when their faith was seen, the impossible happened—sins were forgiven, the paralytic walked, and everyone who witnessed it was filled with wonder and worship.

Notice what didn’t happen: God didn’t create a bigger obstacle just to see if they could handle it.

He didn’t raise the stakes. He raised their faith.

And I think that’s what God wants for us, too. He doesn’t want the obstacles we face in life to overwhelm us and send us home with our hopes dashed and our faith disappointed. He tells us through the prophet Isaiah that when we hope in Him we will not be disappointed (49:23), and that when we look up and fix our thoughts on Him, He will keep us in perfect “shalom shalom” peace (Isaiah 26:3).

Let’s not be people who place our faith in outcomes or events, but in Jesus.

My prayer is that my faith will grow bigger this year. Bigger than fear, bigger than the obstacles in front of me. Bigger than myself. A faith that will drive persistence and sees miracles ripple into everyday life. Faith in myself? No. Faith that I can muster up by trying harder or striving more intensely? Absolutely not.

Faith that is received from the Giver of all good gifts Himself (James 1:17). Jesus is the one who initiates and sustains our faith, so He’s the One I’m asking to grow it in my life (Hebrews 12:2).

And, following on from last week, faith that is seen changes everything: it inspires others, stirs worship, and calls communities into action. It doesn’t start with perfection or certainty—it starts with persistence, with asking, with stepping forward even when the roof seems too high, the crowd too thick, or the challenge too great.

Faith that is shared and on mission together, like those friends who took their mate to Jesus. That’s the sort of faith I want more of in my life. Faith that raises others up to go the distance with Jesus. To keep growing and keep going. Aiming not for outcomes, but for outstretched arms.

A place to grow in faith together

Inside a G+G Cohort, you’ll find:

A private, distraction‑free, dedicated space to grow in faith without the noise of social media (hurrah)!
Scripture‑rich teaching and reflection that helps you cultivate spiritual attentiveness.
Live teaching, coaching, and chats with me (and recordings if you can’t attend live) to help you take what you’re learning into real life.
Masterclasses with trusted voices on faith, calling, leadership, and intentional living.

Grow + Go Cohorts are shaped to help you grow + go, not just check off content or keep up with constant consumption. This is not another thing to maintain or show up for. This is about formation—being shaped by God’s Word and Spirit over time.

The word “cohort” comes from the Latin cohors, meaning a band of people who move together toward a common goal. Unlike a generic “community,” a cohort emphasises shared formation, shared purpose, and shared movement — walking together toward the goal of being shaped by God’s Word and Spirit.

And this is my favourite bit! We are going to operate on a pay-as-you-feel model, because we want these journeys to be accessible to any woman who wants it. You can access the Grow + Go Cohorts for as little as $1/month—or contribute what feels right for you. No one should be excluded from a place where faith can be nurtured, challenged, and made visible.

If this resonates with you, I’d love for you to join the waitlist and take the first step:

Come ready to grow, ready to step out in faith, and ready to let God move through you—together.

I believe that God is not only ready, but willing, to increase our faith. Faith to step out. Faith to persist. Faith to trust in ways you’ve never trusted before. And when that faith is seen, it doesn’t just change your life—it changes the lives of everyone around you.

So ask Him, let your faith be strengthened. Come, let it be seen. Come, and see what happens when we refuse to settle for fear and step fully into trust.

Where might God be inviting your faith to move so that others encounter Jesus through your obedience, not just your words?

A prayer for faith to increase:

Lord, raise our faith above our fear. Help us persist when the crowd seems too thick, when the obstacles seem too high, or when overwhelm threatens to send me packing. May our trust in You grow so that it can be seen, and our faith become a channel for Your miracles, for healing, and for the worship of many. In Jesus’ name, power, and for His glory, amen.

Faith that is seen is contagious. Faith that persists invites miracles. Faith that trusts transforms communities. Let God raise your faith today. And if you’re female and interested in finding out more about Grow + Go Cohorts then join the waitlist here:

Cheering you on!

Em 💛

If my words have encouraged you, please consider buying me a coffee to continue to support all things ‘Grow + Go’.

When Faith Moves, Others Follow

Em Tyler — Fri, 23 Jan 2026 06:01:17 GMT

A couple of years ago I was sat in my lounge sipping on my tea when my friend’s focus was clearly no longer on the riveting tale I was telling. Instead, she was watching a bee that had come in through the sliding glass doors.

The thing is. She wasn’t just watching one fat furry bee, she was watching the first one, followed by the second, and then another, and before we knew it, six bees had made their way into the lounge. We barely got the doors and windows shut in time to stop the rest of the swarm from following suit.

Here’s the thing about bees. When one bee discovers the way to the sweet land of flowers and pollen, it doesn’t keep that knowledge to itself. It heads back to the hive and performs a tiny, intricate dance—waggling, turning, signaling direction and distance. And the rest of the swarm? They don’t stop to debate, question, or take a vote. They follow. The movement of one bee becomes the movement of many, and the promise of life and nourishment spreads simply because someone had the courage to go first.

That’s all well and good when those at the front actually know the way to the promised land. Not so much when they take a wrong turn and think my lounge is their mecca.

Dozens upon dozens of bees arrived together. It became clear that a few at the front had gone the wrong way. And the rest? They followed.

Not because it made sense.
Not because the destination was right.
But because bees are wired to move with what they trust.

No debate. No explanation. Just direction.

I think about that moment when I read Luke 5:17–26.

A paralysed man. A crowded house. No way through the door. And a group of friends who refuse to stay stuck outside simply because the system won’t accommodate them. They “couldn’t find a way to get into the house and set him before Jesus,” (v.18, MSG) so they gave up and went home.

No. Clearly not.

They weren’t led by what was easy or comfortable. They were led by faith—the kind that moves despite obstacles, that risks embarrassment and inconvenience, that refuses to let a paralysed friend stay away from Jesus. Faith that trusted, without fully knowing how, that if they could just get him before the One who heals, everything might change. Faith that wasn’t afraid to make a mess. Faith that worked in concert, in coordination, in perseverance. Faith that hungered, above all, for the presence of the One who could change everything.

“When Jesus saw their faith…”
v.20, NIV

Jesus doesn’t hear their faith.
He doesn’t ask them to articulate it.
He sees it.

Their faith is visible because it moves.

They climb the roof. They remove tiles. Dust falls. The room is interrupted. And suddenly, everyone witnesses not just a miracle—but the mercy and authority of Jesus. Forgiveness spoken aloud. Healing enacted publicly. Wonder and awe sweeping through the crowd.

Faith, when it moves, leaves a trail that others cannot help but notice. It changes rooms. It shifts atmospheres. It turns spectators into witnesses—and awe into worship.

What strikes me is that Jesus also sees something else in the room.

“Jesus knew what they were thinking…”
v.22, NIV

He sees the faith of the friends and the thoughts of the Pharisees.
Both are internal. Both are invisible to the crowd. Both are fully exposed to Jesus.

One leads to forgiveness, healing, and worship.
The other leads to suspicion, resistance, and distance.

And it leaves me wondering: what does my faith look like when it’s seen?

Not in church.
But in the supermarket.
On the train.
In meetings.
Around the dinner table.

Faith that can be seen doesn’t always announce itself—but it does set direction.

Like bees, we’re always moving with something. Fear. Hurry. Self-protection. Or trust.

Sometimes faith looks like going first.
Sometimes it looks like carrying weight that isn’t yours to fix, but is yours to bear.
Sometimes it looks like quiet obedience that others begin to follow before you realise you’ve led anything at all.

The friends in Luke 5 don’t know how Jesus will respond. They simply believe He’s worth the risk. And their movement becomes the message.

By the end of the story:

“Everyone was amazed and gave praise to God. They were filled with awe…”
v.26, NIV

Their faith didn’t stay private. It shifted the atmosphere. It left an impact. It caused hearts to turn and praise to erupt. Faith that is seen doesn’t end in disruption.
It expands and multiplies, resulting in worship.

And that’s the part I want to hold onto: visible faith changes rooms, hearts, and even routines. The friends’ faith didn’t just get one man to Jesus. It reshaped the way everyone in that house—and everyone who heard the story afterward—understood what God could do.

So what might that look like for us today?
It might be small, almost invisible at first: holding the door a moment longer for someone struggling, asking the question no one else has courage to ask in a meeting, speaking a word of encouragement at the table, or stepping into a situation you’d usually avoid because it feels messy or inconvenient.

Faith that moves is rarely polite. It challenges the rhythm of our lives and calls others into alignment with God’s Kingdom by its very presence. And just like the bees, it can be contagious: once a little faith moves, others begin to follow, sometimes without even realising it.

We don’t have to have all the answers or the perfect plan. We don’t even need to have the whole route mapped out perfectly. Like the friends, we just fix our eyes on Jesus and make Him the goal. And we do whatever it takes to get to Him.

Let’s be those that are willing to go first, to carry what we can, and to trust that Jesus sees. Our faith, when it moves, becomes a beacon. It points to Him, invites awe, and creates space for worship to flourish—not just in us, but in those who witness it.

So this week, in whatever ordinary or unexpected room you find yourself,

Where might God be inviting your faith to move so that others encounter Jesus through your obedience, not just your words?

A prayer for faith to move:

Lord Jesus, give us faith that moves towards You, even when the way feels awkward or costly. Free us from faith that stays seated, silent, or safe. Let our trust be visible in ordinary places and among ordinary people, so that Your mercy, authority, and love are seen clearly through our lives. For your glory, amen.

If my words have encouraged you, please consider buying me a coffee to continue to support all things ‘Grow + Go’.

Suffocate Your Sin

Em Tyler — Fri, 16 Jan 2026 06:01:07 GMT

In 2000, a series of methane explosions caused a fire in the Willow Creek Mine in Utah. Tragically, two died in the explosions but the fire raged on. Firefighters tend not to attack flames directly, it’s too dangerous. Instead, they seal the mine.

No oxygen.
No airflow.
No fuel.

And so the fire can’t consume any more ground. Starved of oxygen, it suffocates, dies, and finally goes out.

The believers in Colossae were part of a young church facing false teaching and moral compromise. Some were being tempted to blend elements of pagan practices and Jewish ceremonial laws with their new life in Christ. Paul’s letter isn’t abstract; it’s pastoral and practical, aimed at a community whose faith was under pressure from both culture and faulty teaching.

Into this context, Paul commands, “Put to death, therefore, whatever belongs to your earthly nature: sexual immorality, impurity, lust, evil desires and greed, which is idolatry” (NIV).

Put to death comes from one verb in the original Greek: nekroó.

Here in Colossians, nekroó isn’t just about fighting sin or trying harder. It means to deprive sin of its power, to render it lifeless. Sin is much like a mine fire. It’s risky to get too close. You can’t simply confront the flames or manage the consequences; you have to cut off its source, seal the shafts feeding it, and let it suffocate.

Paul is saying to the Colossians:

Don’t battle sin . . . suffocate it, cut it off at the source.

This verb, nekroó, is rare, appearing only two other times in the New Testament. In Romans 4:19, Abraham’s body was “rendered powerless” by age and in Hebrews 11:12, Sarah’s womb was “rendered barren”—until God intervened. In both cases, human life and natural strength were suspended, powerless, waiting on God’s action.

Think for a moment about your own life. Is there a desire, a pattern, a thought that keeps sneaking oxygen? Maybe it’s an old habit, a lingering resentment, a secret worry. You may have been trying to “fight” it on the surface, feeling the frustration of repeated failure. But the call of Colossians 3 is deeper: stop feeding it. Close the supply lines. Don’t just wrestle with the flame—let it die where it no longer has life.

The good news is that, like Abraham and Sarah, we are not left powerless. God intervenes where our strength falls short. As you suffocate sin at its source, it does not require perfect willpower or endless struggle. It requires obedience to cut the supply and trust that God will finish the work.

So today, take a breath, ask God to show you the shafts feeding that fire in your life, and seal them. Don’t negotiate with sin. Don’t try to manage it. Put it to death—cut it off at the source—and watch God’s power make it lifeless.

Let’s grow together:

Have you ever noticed that trying to fight a sin directly doesn’t work? What’s helped you starve it instead?

A prayer to suffocate sin:

Lord, show me the hidden places where sin still finds life in my heart. Give me courage to close the supply lines feeding it and the wisdom to trust You to finish what I cannot. Help me to stop negotiating with the flames and allow Your Spirit to suffocate what seeks to harm me. Fill the space left behind with Your peace, Your presence, and Your power, that I may walk free and fully alive in You, amen.

If my words have encouraged you, please consider buying me a coffee to continue to support all things ‘Grow + Go’.

One Slip Can Shatter Everything

Em Tyler — Fri, 09 Jan 2026 06:00:39 GMT

I was putting away Christmas ornaments at work (which is ironic as I hate putting away Christmas decorations and always manage to get out of that job at home!) and as I was taking down these beautiful glass baubles, one detached itself from the silver string, fell to the floor, and shattered.

The noise was loud, the mess great, and the shiny, sharp, splinters spread themselves far and wide across the office floor.

Because, as you’d expect, when the link between the bauble and its string was broken, the bauble itself was no longer supported and as such it fell and shattered.

It didn’t break because it was weak.
It broke because it was no longer supported.

The moment the connection between the bauble and the string was severed, gravity did the rest. And standing there, staring at the fragments, I felt the Spirit gently whisper:

This is what happens when we disconnect.

We are created to be attached to Jesus. Without Him, our lives are vulnerable to shattering—fragmenting into what can feel like a thousand sharp pieces of unresolved pain, unmet need, disappointment, or sin.

I couldn’t safely pick up the broken glass with my bare hands. To do so would have risked injury. In the same way, unhealed brokenness in our lives can leave others vulnerable to being hurt simply by coming too close. Our own traumatic crashes can scatter debris far beyond the moment itself, leaving others to trip over what we haven’t yet tended to.

So how do we prevent ourselves from falling away from that which keeps us whole?

We were made for union with God, we were made to be “vitally united” to Him (John 15:4 APMC) and when that tie is severed or broken, when we are “cut off” from Him, our lives will no longer bear the good fruit that God designed for us to bear and we can “do nothing” (v.5).

Not less.
Not a little.
Nothing.

Life doesn’t fall apart all at once. Often, it’s a slow fraying. A neglected practice. A delayed obedience. A quiet resistance we justify as wisdom. Over time, the string thins. As we read more about being connected to Jesus in John 15:2-10 we see that the way to remain connected is through keeping His commandments and continually obeying His instructions, again and again (v.10).

For that bauble to have remained whole, it needed to continually remain connected to the string. It didn’t need to try harder. It simply needed to stay attached.

And it’s the same for us.

Union with God is not maintained by intensity alone, but by faithful, again and again, ongoing obedience. By choosing His way when it costs us. By responding when He speaks. By aligning our lives—not just our beliefs—with His instruction.

So let me ask you gently:

Where might there be frayed strands in your connection with the Lord right now?
Where has obedience become optional, delayed, or quietly avoided?

This isn’t an invitation to shame. It’s an invitation to repair.

Bring those places to Him. Confess them honestly. Allow Him to strengthen what feels thin and restore what has weakened—so that your life can continue to bear the good fruit that glorifies the Father.

“This is to my Father’s glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples.”
—John 15:8

Stay attached.
Stay held.
Stay whole.

Where do you sense a fraying in your connection with the Lord right now—and what might obedience look like in that place?

Jesus, forgive us for the ways our connection with You has frayed through neglect, delay, or quiet resistance. Restore what feels thin, strengthen what has weakened, and help us remain vitally united to You through loving obedience, so our lives may stay held, whole, and fruitful for the glory of the Father. Amen.

As you sit with that today, may you hear His invitation not to strive, but simply to remain.

Em 💛

If you want to explore further how you can stay Tethered to Truth then you can download this free 38-page workbook here.

If my words have encouraged you, please consider buying me a coffee to continue to support all things ‘Grow + Go’.

I Did the Unthinkable

Em Tyler — Fri, 02 Jan 2026 06:00:49 GMT

Happy New Year friends!

I’m going to own it.

I am the quintessential Good Christian Girl.

I have always cared very deeply about following the rules, handing my homework in early, and lining my pencils up in colour order. I’m the girl who finishes what she starts and who gets tetchy when I see others sit down to eat their toast before tidying away the butter and jam from the kitchen counter.

Yeah, bet you’re glad we’re not flatmates!

So, you can probably imagine how much I have thoroughly enjoyed ticking off my daily Duolingo language challenge over the past year or so and delighting in the fact that the wee owl gives me kind eyes rather than those angry-fire-eyes when you cut it a bit too close to midnight for getting it done.

I have had to check my smugness about the length of my ‘streak’ and intentionally not bring up how many days I’m on when others bring up that they too are Duolingo ~~addicts~~ fans.

And yet, just before Christmas, I deleted the app.

I turned off all the emails.
Silenced notifications.
And let my 445-day-streak die a death.

I quit. Just like that.

Teenage me (heck, me from a month ago) would be wailing: Whhhyyyyyyy? When you’re only five days away from that magic 450 marker? When it literally only takes you a couple of minutes a day? Why would you do such a ridiculous thing? You’ve come so far. It’ll be wasted . . .

Here’s why: It had power over me.

What began as a blissful daily delight had quietly become a dutiful burden. It had become heavy. Stressful. Something to keep up with. Something that dictated how I ended my day rather than enriched it.

And so . . . as we all hit that time of year when everyone is adding things to their calendars and habit-formation planners, setting their intentions for the months ahead, I wonder:

Is there something you need to let go of?

Something that, harmless as it may be, has become heavy?

In Hebrews 12:1 we are urged that we are to “throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles” (NIV). Now, I’m not saying that Duolingo is sin. Not for a second. But it was hindering me.

The phrase throw off in the original Greek is wonderfully physical. It’s used repeatedly in the New Testament to describe taking off clothing—laying aside, stripping off, discarding a garment that no longer belongs. Often, it’s a soiled or restrictive garment, removed so that something new can be put on in its place.

This isn’t gentle detachment.
It’s a decisive release.

The picture is of someone recognising that they cannot run freely while still dressed for the wrong terrain and then choosing, with intention, on purpose, to let it go.

BibleHub describes this word as presenting “a compelling portrait of decisive, Spirit-enabled renunciation that inaugurates and sustains a holy walk — an indispensable element of New Testament discipleship.”1

Spirit-enabled.
Not self-punishing.
Not performance-driven.

And isn’t that what we long for as a new year begins?

Lives that are sustained by the Spirit, not strangled by obligation. Lives able to “run with perseverance the race marked out for us” (v.1) because we are no longer carrying what was never meant to be permanent.

The writer of Hebrews goes on to say we do this by “fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith” (v.2a, NIV). Not by tightening our grip, but by loosening it. Not by adding more, but by paying attention to what needs laying down.

For me, that has meant saying goodbye to ending my day with Duo’s watchful stare. For you, it might look different.

It might be:

a rhythm that once served you but now quietly drains you
a habit you’re afraid to stop because of what it says about your consistency
a spiritual practice that’s become performative rather than prayerful
a commitment you’ve outgrown but don’t know how to release
or even a “good” discipline that’s started to crowd out attentiveness to Jesus Himself

Letting go isn’t failure.
Sometimes it’s faith.

And if you find yourself longing not for better habits this January, but for a gentler, truer place to begin again then I want you to know this:

There is no pressure here.
No performance requirement.
No streaks to maintain.

If you’d like to join us for 31 Days of Beginning Again, it’s not too late. Each day in January is simply an invitation to release what’s become heavy, to refocus your gaze, and to start again with Jesus at the centre. Details of how to join at the end.

No guilt if you miss a day. No shame if you start halfway through.
Just grace, presence, and the quiet courage to lay something down.

Because sometimes the most faithful thing you can do at the start of a new year is not to add one more thing—but to finally let one go.

Jesus, as we stand at the beginning of this year, we bring You the things we’ve been carrying—even the good ones that have quietly grown heavy. Give us courage to lay down what no longer serves the life You’re inviting us into. Teach us the freedom of release, the grace of beginning again, and the peace that comes from fixing our eyes on You rather than on our performance. Where we’ve confused faithfulness with finishing, gently remind us that You are more interested in our attentiveness than our streaks. Lead us by Your Spirit into a year marked not by striving, but by trust. For Your glory, amen.

As you step into this new year, is there something—a habit, expectation, or commitment—that might be good, but has become heavy? What would it look like for you to lay it down and begin again?

If this resonated: come join us for 31 Days of Beginning Again this January.

You can get your copy here:

🇺🇸 US readers
🇬🇧 UK readers (Via Amazon)
🇬🇧 UK readers (Direct from Em, may be cheaper if you don’t have Prime)
🇳🇿 NZ/AUS readers
Digital copy (only £5).

And if you don’t want to go it alone, you don’t have to.

When you’ve got your copy, come join us in the private Facebook group:

If you found this post helpful, please subscribe.

If it would help someone you know, share it.

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https://biblehub.com/greek/659.htm

Remember to Remember

Em Tyler — Fri, 26 Dec 2025 06:00:24 GMT

The run up to our wedding was nothing short of, er, stressful. Pretty much everything that could go wrong did. The honeymoon tickets never arrived, we needed jobs, a car, somewhere to live, the registrar informed us with less than a week to go that we couldn’t be legally married without the ‘green paper’ (the what-now?) and the cravats weren’t working out. I know. Nightmare.

So we prayed. And every. single. request. was answered. Every one.

Lounging around on honeymoon (after another series of mishaps like being flown into the wrong airport), I commented to Dan that we should write down all the answers we had received as it was highly likely there would come a point in our marriage where we would need to remember the miracles and provision we had witnessed.

There is something sacred in remembering.

To remember is not just to hold a thought in your head, it is a deliberate choice, a sacred act of the will. Psalm 77:10–12 NIV (emphasis mine) captures this beautifully:

“Then I said, ‘I will appeal to this, to the years of the right hand of the Most High.’ I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago. I will consider all your works and meditate on all your mighty deeds.”

The psalmist was in a season of despair, overwhelmed by hardship, questioning God’s presence. And yet, even in the struggle, he makes the conscious decision:

I will remember.

The Hebrew word for ‘remember’ (zakar) carries more than mental recollection. It is active: to call to mind, to make present, to let memory shape your response. Remembering is a choice. It is not automatic. It is a spiritual discipline. The great news is that you get to decide what to reflect on, what to rehearse in your mind, and what you allow to shape your heart.

This matters not just spiritually but neurologically.

Research in cognitive science shows that intentionally recalling experiences — particularly those associated with gratitude or positive meaning — strengthens neural pathways, rewires perception, and reshapes emotional response. In other words, remembering God’s faithfulness and goodness isn’t just pious; it literally reshapes your brain and your heart. Psalm 103:2 NIV (my emphasis) echoes this: “Praise the Lord, my soul, and forget not all his benefits.”

And so what are the implications for us as we close out another year?

If this year has been difficult — if you’ve felt like the waters were rising and God was distant — you are not alone. Psalm 77 carries the voice of anyone who has struggled to see God’s hand in the storm. Yet, even in the darkest moments, remembering shifts perspective.

One of my favourite examples of remembering in scripture is found in the very first book of Genesis. We all know the Sunday-school version of Noah’s story: 40 days and 40 nights, stuck in the ark, and then ta-da, out he comes. Except it wasn’t like that. God told him how long it would rain for, but what He didn’t tell Noah was how long he’d have to wait in the ark before being released.

In chapters 7 and 8, the Hebrew uses a literary tool called a palistrophe (a kind of mirroring structure, think 1234,4321) to highlight the central point of the narrative. The days of rain, waiting, flooding, and submerged waters comes 7, 7, 40, 150. And then in reverse as the waters go down, the story goes 150, 40, 7, 7. So what is the central point we need to see?

But God remembered Noah . . .

Like Noah emerging from the flood, it may feel as though you have been forgotten—but Genesis 8:1 reminds us, “But God remembered Noah and all the wild animals and the livestock that were with him in the ark.” Same same for you too, my friend. God remembers you too. He sees, He knows, He cares.

Remembering, then, is both an act of faith and an act of freedom. You choose to call to mind what is true. You rehearse the goodness of God, His presence, His faithfulness, and His promises. You anchor your soul in what cannot be undone. And in doing so, you create space to breathe, to trust, and to receive the peace He offers.

FINISH FREE

If you want to process 2025 and intentionally enter the new year remembering God’s presence, faithfulness, and goodness — and release the pressures you’ve carried along the way — I’ve created a free, gentle, guided reflection called Finish Free. It is a simple way to pause, remember, and step into 2026 with His peace and freedom. You can download the journalling PDF here:

DOWNLOAD HERE

As we look toward a new year, let’s take comfort in this truth: the One who holds time in His hands has already gone ahead of you. As Deuteronomy 31:8 NIV reminds us:

The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.

He has already prepared the way. You do not enter this next season alone. You do not carry the weight alone. He is with you, leading you, steadying you, making a path where you cannot see it yet.

As you look back over this past year, what is one moment — big or small — where you can say, “God remembered me here”? Share it with us below so we can remember His goodness together.

Lord, teach us to remember. Bring to mind Your faithfulness, Your nearness, and the quiet ways You have carried us. Where this year felt heavy, breathe Your peace. Where we feel forgotten, remind us that You go before us. Lead us into the new year with hearts steadied by Your presence and freed by Your grace. For Your glory, amen.

If this resonated: come join us for 31 Days of Beginning Again this January. Together, we’ll create space to hear His voice, scatter with intention, and step into the good He wants to grow in and through us.

You can get your copy here:

🇺🇸 US readers
🇬🇧 UK readers (Via Amazon)
🇬🇧 UK readers (Direct from Em, may be cheaper if you don’t have Prime)
🇳🇿 NZ/AUS readers
Digital copy (only £5).

And if you don’t want to go it alone, you don’t have to.

When you’ve got your copy, come join us in the private Facebook group:

If you found this post helpful, please subscribe.

If it would help someone you know, share it.

If you found it a blessing in any way, you can show love by making a one time (no subscription!!!) donation below.

Stop Squandering, Start Scattering

Em Tyler — Fri, 19 Dec 2025 06:01:03 GMT

“Not long after that, the younger son got together all he had, set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living.”

Luke 15:13 NIV

Don’t you love it when the Holy Spirit takes a story that is oh-so-familiar to you in the Bible and breathes fresh insight into it? Yeah, me too. I was working through Day 9 of 31 Days of Beginning Again in preparation for January — yes, shameless plug, details at the end — and one word jumped off the page at me.

Squandered.

Instantly, I wondered: Am I squandering the inheritance, the gifts, the good things that my Father has given me? How am I spending my inheritance?

Cue squirrel-search for the meaning of squandered in the original language. Now, I am no scholar of Biblical languages, but I do know how to work my way around BibleHub.com. And it reliably informs me the Greek word here is diaskorpizó, which can be translated as ‘widely scatter’ or ‘disperse greatly.’

Friends, we know that our heavenly Father is the giver of good gifts (James 1:17). He has an abundance for us. He is not limited in the wealth of goodness that He wants to pour into our lives. Yet, what are we doing with them? Are they lying dormant, or even worse, hidden, unable to bring forth a yield aka the Parable of the Talents (Matthew 25:14-30)?

When the third servant says that he knows his master reaps where he didn’t sow and gathers ‘where you scattered no seed’ (v.24), it is this same word, diaskorpizó.

What’s the link?

It’s this: squandering is scattering without intention, scattering without purpose. It’s the younger son spending his inheritance on ‘wild living’, the servant burying his talent out of fear, keeping what was meant to grow dormant.

And yet, there’s also a good scattering.

I have had a whole thing with Jesus this entire year all about throwing, sowing, scattering the seed. I even had a whoop-di-doop moment last week when I rediscovered Mark 4:26-29 and read about the man who ‘scatters seed on the ground’ (v.26) and how it ‘sprouts and grows, though he does not know how’ (v.27) leading to a great harvest. This ‘scattering’ comes from the Greek balló which means to ‘throw, cast, put, or place’. This scattering is purposeful, full of faith, yielding fruit beyond the sower’s understanding.

So . . . in a couple of passages scattering is bad — aimless, careless, squandered. Sown into soil that was not ready to receive it. Wasted. And in another, it is good — intentional, fruitful, Spirit-led.

How do we know if we’re squandering or scattering the good things the Father has given us?

The final thought I want to leave you with from my time in Luke 15 is this. Near the beginning of the parable the younger son says to his Father, ‘Give me . . .’ (v.12). He wants his inheritance for himself but when he comes to his senses, literally, ‘comes back to himself,’ becomes his true self (i.e. remembers who his Father is), he determines to go back to the Father and say, ‘Make me . . .’ (v.15).

Make me a hired servant, one who could be dismissed after only a day. Make me whatever you want me to be.

Give Me → Make Me

And that’s it. That’s the pivot from squandered to scattered, from aimless to intentional. One is about our desires, our purposes, our sense of gain. The shift from ‘Give me’ to ‘Make me’ is the heart of growth: surrendering our control, offering our gifts, our time, our energy, our talents, back to Him, and letting Him decide how they bear fruit.

When we scatter with intention, guided by the Spirit, our resources — time, talent, love, even failures — become a harvest, not a loss. We don’t just survive, we grow again.

So here are some questions for us to ponder and grapple with. I’d love to know your thoughts:

Are you scattering or squandering what God has given you?

Are you holding onto His gifts for your own purposes, or are you, palms-open, offering it all back?

What does ‘Make me’ look like in your life this week?

Father, thank You for the gifts, opportunities, and abundance You have placed in my life. Forgive me for the ways I have squandered what You have given, and teach me to scatter with intention, to surrender my plans and fears, and to offer my life fully to You. Shift my heart from “Give me” to “Make me,” and use even the smallest seeds I place in Your hands to bear fruit, bring growth, and glorify Your name. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

You can get your copy here:

🇺🇸 US readers
🇬🇧 UK readers (Via Amazon)
🇬🇧 UK readers (Direct from Em, may be cheaper if you don’t have Prime)
🇳🇿 NZ/AUS readers
Digital copy (only £5).

And if you don’t want to go it alone, you don’t have to.

When you’ve got your copy, come join us in the private Facebook group:

Let’s be believers who keep scattering, again and again!

Em 💛

P.S. And because I couldn’t wait until January to start, I made a little quiz to help you find out where the power of ‘again’ might bless you, right now. Perhaps God is inviting you to begin again, believe again, grow again, or go again. Let’s find out!

You can take it here →

TAKE THE QUIZ

I think you’ll love it (who doesn’t love a quiz?!).

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Maybe It’s Time To Let Go and Lie Down

Em Tyler — Fri, 12 Dec 2025 06:01:29 GMT

Last night I was laying in bed reading—nothing dramatic, just winding down, book in hand, duvet pulled up, the kind of quiet where you can finally hear your thoughts breathe again.

Enter: Binx.

He sprints out of the room, puppy paws padding down the stairs, and returns with his greatest treasure. His prized possession. The thing-he-loves-above-all-other-things: his bone.

Now, not going to lie to you . . . his bone is certifiably gross. Absolutely vile. A health hazard. The kind of thing you apologise for when guests come over.

And this is the moment I’d show you a photo for proof but (humble brag) I don’t keep my mobile in my bedroom any more, so alas, you’ll just have to imagine this minging half-chewed, half-disintegrated relic of joy.

Binx hops up onto the bed, walks right over to me, and sets the bone squarely on my stomach. Then—without hesitation, without worry, without guarding or hovering—he curls up beside me and falls asleep.

Just like that.

The thing he cares most about in the world, placed with the person he trusts most in the world.

And of course, because everything in my life turns into a parable, I found myself lying there wondering:

Is this not the perfect picture of what we’re invited to do with our Heavenly Father?

To take the things we treasure—however messy, however chewed-up, however embarrassing—and entrust them to Him, fully, freely . . . and then actually rest?

Do we do this with Jesus?

Honestly? Not as much as we might like to think.
Often we clutch, protect, run mental laps around our worries and hopes, terrified that if we don’t hold them tightly, they’ll be lost.

But what if the very thing we’re clutching is the thing preventing us from relaxing in His presence?

What if peace is found not in managing everything perfectly, but in placing our ‘bones’: our people, our plans, our desires, our fears et al. on the chest of the One who cares for us most?

What do you need to bring Him and leave with Him so that you can rest easy?
What are you carrying around that’s keeping your shoulders up by your ears?
What treasure are you guarding that would be safer in His hands than in yours?

Hand it over.
Trust Him.
Entrust your people, your possessions, your ponderings, and everything you hold dear.

Give it to Him . . . and then lie down.

Because this is the God who keeps us safe and makes us ‘lie down in green pastures’ (Psalm 23:2a NIV). This is the Jesus who said, ‘Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.’ (Matthew 6:21 NIV)

So perhaps the invitation isn’t simply to trust Him with your treasure, but to know that your heart is safest when your treasure is not only with Him, but is Him.

He cares for you.
So you really can give what you care about most to Him.

And maybe—just maybe—you’ll sleep as soundly as Binx.

Father,

Thank You that You care for us so deeply. Help us to hand over the things we cherish most—our plans, our people, our dreams, our fears—and trust You to hold them well. Teach us to rest in Your presence, to stop carrying what isn’t ours to bear, and to delight in Your provision and love. May our hearts find peace in surrender, and may we lie down confidently, knowing that You are faithful. In Jesus’ name, amen.

If you want to start next year practicing exactly this—handing over your treasures and resting in Him—grab your copy of 31 Days of Beginning Again. Then join our private group starting January 1, where we’ll put this into practice together, hearing from Him in the Word, in community. Let’s start 2026 lying down in green pastures together, links below.

You can get your copy here:

🇺🇸 US readers
🇬🇧 UK readers (Via Amazon)
🇬🇧 UK readers (Direct from Em, may be cheaper if you don’t have Prime)
🇳🇿 NZ/AUS readers
Digital copy (only £5).

And if you don’t want to go it alone, you don’t have to.

When you’ve got your copy, come join us in the private Facebook group:

I can’t wait to go on this journey with you. See you soon!

Em 💛

You can take it here →

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Maybe it's time to Begin. Again.

Em Tyler — Fri, 05 Dec 2025 06:01:43 GMT

Hey!

If you’ve been feeling a little weary, stuck, or like this year didn’t quite go how you hoped — you’re not alone. I’ve been there too. In fact, at the beginning of 2025 God gave me a ‘word’ for the year, and if I’m honest, I wanted to give it right back. That word?

Again.

‘Again’ can feel hard, overwhelming, tiring, vulnerable, frustrating and all sorts of other emotions. We live in a world that is constantly telling us we should be able to do something once, nail it, and then move on.

But faith isn’t like that.

Walking with Jesus isn’t like that.

As the Holy Spirit has been unfurling the fullness of ‘again’ with me this year, I’ve been learning the beauty and freedom of living a life of ‘again’ with Jesus. Again . . . and again!

Maybe God’s whispering the same thing to you? Not as a demand to try harder, but as an invitation to begin again with Him.

The great news is that the power of ‘again’ is available to us all regardless of what season we find ourselves in. And I believe that Jesus has a good ‘again’ for you, too. So, because I’m a fun kinda girl, I created a quiz for you (who doesn’t love a quiz?!) to help discern which season of ‘again’ you might need.

But it’s not just a quiz. It’s an invitation to discover where you can access the “power of again” to keep going, not in your strength, but in His. Maybe He’s calling you to:

Begin again: feeling stuck? Get a fresh refilling of His Spirit and grace for right here, right now.
Believe again: struggling to trust God? Dare to believe that your Heavenly Father is good and HAS good for you.
Grow again: striving to reach higher levels? It’s time to grow up a level in formation and maturity, encounter His presence in new ways, hear directly from His heart.
Go again: know what God is saying but fear’s getting in the way? Keep moving, with courage and boldness, into the fullness of all He’s calling you to.

I know how heavy life can feel sometimes, and I want you to know this: you’re not too late.

You’re not too far gone. God’s grace meets you exactly where you are, ready to lift you out of what’s keeping you stuck.

Each quiz result includes a gentle encouragement to help you take one honest step toward Him, again.

TAKE THE QUIZ HERE

And because so many of us have been craving a gentle way to start fresh with God, I’ve been creating something new for January 2026: a Bible reading plan and journal called 31 Days of Beginning Again.

It’s a space to:
✨ reset your heart,
✨ reflect on His faithfulness, and
✨ return to the gentle rhythms of walking with Him day-by-day.

Each page is a small, sacred pause — Scripture, reflection, and space to respond — to help you start the year as you mean to go on: not with pressure, but with presence.

With a clear, day-by-day structure, each reading invites you to:

Grow: feast on Scripture and encounter God’s Word in a way that speaks directly to your life.
Glorify: notice God’s character, His faithfulness, and what He is revealing to you.
Grapple: journal honestly about your thoughts, struggles, and discoveries.
Gather: reflect in prayer, collating your thoughts to connect with God in conversation and surrender.
Go: take one intentional step toward living out what God is teaching you, whether in attitude, action, or relationship.

Packed with daily Bible readings, reflection prompts, prayer guidance, and space to respond to God’s Spirit, this journal isn’t just about filling pages, it’s about transformation. Over 31 days, you’ll explore God’s promises, wrestle with His truth, and step courageously into the new beginnings He has prepared for you.

You can get your copy here:

🇺🇸 US readers
🇬🇧 UK readers (Via Amazon)
🇬🇧 UK readers (Direct from Em, may be cheaper if you don’t have Prime)
🇳🇿 NZ/AUS readers
Digital copy (only £5).

And if you don’t want to go it alone, you don’t have to.

There’s the option of walking through 31 Days of Beginning Again in community with me and other believers who are hungry to encounter more of Jesus. We’ll begin on January 1st 2026 together, hold space for what He’s stirring, and remind one another that grace always makes room for a fresh start.

Join us in the private Facebook community:

I can’t wait to go on this journey with you. See you soon!

Em 💛

Bought your copy?

Join the Group Here

Missed the quiz? You can take it here.

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If it would help someone you know, share it.

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