A Cup of Comfort with Krystal

06/13/2026

05/06/2026

I’m generally an optimistic, positive person.

But not always.

There have been seasons when I sat in the dark — completely overwhelmed by circumstances, by pain…by life itself.

Times when I ate anything comforting instead of anything healthy, just trying to feel better.
Times when I ate nothing at all for days.

Times when I stayed busy nonstop so I wouldn’t have to face what I was running from.
Times when I couldn’t get out of bed.

Times when I smiled at everyone like everything was fine…only to go home and cry like nothing would ever be okay again.

That’s hard to admit in the church.

It’s hard to admit depression or anxiety in a community where some see it as a lack of faith — where even *you* think, “If I just prayed harder or believed enough, I wouldn’t feel this way.”

But Scripture tells a different story.

Elijah was so downcast, so crushed in spirit, that he “came to a broom bush, sat down under it and prayed that he might die. ‘I have had enough, Lord,’ he said. ‘Take my life…’” (1 Kings 19:4)

This was a prophet of the Lord.
A man who had *just* watched God send fire from heaven.
A man who had seen God’s power firsthand…and still wanted to die.

I’ve felt that way. And God was with me — even when I couldn’t feel Him.

At the time, it felt like I was alone in a deep hole. Like I should be *doing* something to climb out. Like my lack of faith was the reason I was stuck.

But that’s not how healing came.

I didn’t “believe harder.” God didn’t instantly fix it. I didn’t suddenly feel better.

But just like with Elijah, God comforted me in ways I didn’t recognize until later. God let Elijah rest. He cared for his body. He listened to his sorrow. And then, when Elijah was ready, He led him toward help and community.

You know what He *didn’t* do?

He didn’t shame Elijah.
He didn’t tell him to get over it.
He didn’t say, “If you trusted Me more, you wouldn’t feel this way.”

He was simply *with* him. And eventually, Elijah could go on.

Jesus Himself said, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death.” (Matthew 26:38)
Even the Son of God felt that crushing weight.

I often wished someone could sit with me in those moments. And sometimes people tried. But ultimately, the pit I was in was one only God could meet me in.

And He did.

He sat with me in the pain.
He let me rest.
And then He called me back to life.

If you’re sitting in the middle of pain, worry, or anxiety, please hear this: **you have not failed God.** He sees you. He understands you. And Scripture shows us a God who knows what we need even when we don’t.

Elijah thought he wanted to die. God knew he needed rest, nourishment, and time. God didn’t rush him. He met him again and again with compassion.

And then He called him back — back to service, back to hope, back to life.

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

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28)

God is not ashamed of your pain. He is not afraid of it. He does not condemn you for feeling anxious or depressed. He simply stays near — even when you can’t feel Him.

“Praise be to…the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.” (2 Corinthians 1:3–4)

Hold onto that Truth today.
Write it on your heart when you are struggling to believe it.
Or let it move you to comfort someone else who needs it.

04/29/2026

"He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end." (Eccl. 3:11)

04/24/2026

Every time I pull into the driveway, I know what’s coming.
As soon as I hit the button to open the garage—there he is. My youngest comes barreling toward me with that same wide‑open joy he’s had since he was little. Every single time. No hesitation. No cooling off with time. No “too old for that now.”

Just pure delight.
“Mom! You’re home!”
Like my return is the best thing that’s happened all day.
Like he’s been waiting for me, listening for me, ready to run the second he hears me coming.

It doesn’t matter if I’ve been gone five days or fifteen minutes.

And honestly, it undoes me a little.
Because he never loses that enthusiasm.
He never stops celebrating my arrival.
He never greets me with half‑hearted affection or distracted acknowledgment.

He runs.
Every time.
And wraps his arms around me as tight as he can.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about that—how his joy pulls something deep and tender out of me. And it’s made me wonder about another homecoming still ahead.

One day, when my feet cross the threshold of eternity, I imagine a Father who doesn’t stand back with folded arms or polite nods. I imagine the God who has loved me through every season, every stumble, every surrender—running toward me.

Luke 15:20 says, “While he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son…”

That’s the welcome I’m promised.
Not because I’ve earned it.
Not because I’ve lived flawlessly.
But because I'm His.

My son’s joyful greeting is just a small echo of the greater joy waiting for me.
A reminder that the Father’s heart is not reluctant or restrained.
He delights in my return.
He runs to meet me.

And maybe you need that reminder too.
Maybe you’ve been imagining God as distant, disappointed, or slow to move toward you.

But He sees you while you’re still “a long way off.”
And He runs to those who come home to Him.
Look up now and see Him, waiting for you--ready to welcome you back.

04/21/2026

When we clicked on my son's final GED test result yesterday afternoon and it flashed "Congratulations," I felt a season ending. Pride mixed with pain. In that instant, I could feel time shifting beneath my feet.

Sometimes my life feels less like a passing of years and more a constant shifting of seasons.

I don't necessarily notice a change as each year goes by, but I feel the changing of the seasons.

I move from childhood to teen, teen to college adult, student to newlywed. Then came career and children, and I began again, but counting the seasons as my children went through them. Caring for babies, then toddlers, then teenagers.

And now... I'll have a young adult. He's getting ready to leave: learning the final skills he needs to live alone, managing his finances and responsibilities with less help from us, getting together paperwork and gathering the things he needs.

And I see a new season coming.

The awareness of my life changing in real time gave me a sudden vision: seeing each of my children growing up and going into the world on their own. Watching them fall in love. Becoming a grandmother. Growing older.

And I realized we're all experiencing this, no matter our age. My oldest son is very aware that his life is about to enter a new season. But so is my friend who is expecting her first child. So are my parents who are adjusting to being semi-retired. So is the friend who is about to start a new job.

Maybe you’ve felt that shift too — that quiet awareness that life is changing, even if you didn’t ask it to. We're always in a season of change, or about to be. The only thing constant in life is "death and taxes", as the expression goes.

And it could feel like upheaval. I could be stressing out about the unknown that is coming with those changes. I could be worried that I've done enough, or made the right choices. I could be--and sometimes I am. Sometimes a feeling of total panic washes over me, as I try to remember what I've forgotten to teach him. As I worry that I haven't prepared myself well enough for what's coming for me, too.

But I know I can't live in that place. I can't survive there, let alone thrive. And I know that God wants good for me. The Bible is full of His promises to care for me and to work all things to my good.

When the panic arises, I try to remember:

"(to) take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ." (2 Corinthians 10:5)

It's hard, but the same verse tells us how:

"We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God..."

If I KNOW that God wants the best for me, if I KNOW He says He will empower me, then anything that says otherwise is doing just what that verse claims: trying to set itself up against the knowledge of God.

Knowing the promises He has claimed for me, I can take hold of those thoughts of panic--those thoughts that wonder if I've done enough--and tell them to Shut. Up. I won't let my thoughts speak louder than God's voice.

That voice that tells you to be anxious, the one that brings you to the point of depression or fear--that voice is not from God. Sometimes it may be spiritual attack against a child of God. But so often it's our own voice. So often we're listening to lies--but we won't be able to recognize them as lies unless we're listening to the Voice of Truth.

The Bible tells us: for everything there is a season. And in each season, God is refining us and making us more and more like Him, if we let Him.

Sometimes the lessons are hard. Sometimes they're painful. Sometimes we wish He'd never chosen us for the path we're on.

But in all things, God can use our circumstances to change us for the better. To mold us. To grow us. The Bible calls Him a potter, and we are jars of clay.

My prayer is that He continue to mold me--whether I like it or not... whether it's comfortable or not... whether I can see "why" or not.

If He is the One shaping my seasons, none are wasted. And He has already promised to help us bear it--we're never alone.

What season are you in today? What change do you see coming? How can you release your anxiety over this season, and let God use it to make you more like His Son?

04/17/2026

I was scrolling Facebook during a long car ride yesterday.

I came across a private group post where someone was talking about her friend and some issues they'd been having.

They have been friends for a long time. But now the friend has a child. And lately, she said she felt like her friend was just using her for babysitting or to help pick up her kid from activities.

They don't hang out anymore. They don't have the friendship they used to have. So she feels used, and is wondering what to do.

And the comments followed a single theme: Cut her off. That's not a friend, that's a user. If she isn't being a friend to you, then walk away. Even Jesus had boundaries.

The lack of mercy for the friend chilled me.

This was in a Christian women's group. But in my view, the attitude of Christ was sorely lacking.

We live in a society now that says "if I'm not getting something out of this, it's a waste of time and effort".

We are quick to cut off anyone who is difficult or messing up or affecting us negatively.

Don't get me wrong: there are people who are true abusers. There are people who shouldn't get to hurt us or those we love.

But there are also simply flawed people who we'd just rather not deal with. People who are broken themselves and seem to overflow their bitterness or anger onto those around them. They are like wounded animals--lashing out at anyone near them.

And I think Jesus would have shown them mercy.

It reminds me of the men who were crucified alongside him. First, they hurled curses at him (Mark 15, Matthew 27).

But Luke tells us that one of the men clearly shifted over the hours they hung there:

One of the criminals who hung there heaped abuse on Him. “Are You not the Christ?” he said. “Save Yourself and us!”
But the other one rebuked him, saying, “Do you not even fear God, since you are under the same judgment? We are punished justly, for we are receiving what our actions deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong.” Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when You come into Your kingdom!”
And Jesus said to him, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with Me in Paradise.” (Luke 23:39-43)

Jesus knew His share of what we'd call "toxic" people.

They insulted him. They beat him. They killed him.

And yet He saw who they were: broken people in need of a Savior.

The people around us--even the ones who can say hurtful things, or act in imperfect ways--they are also broken people in need of mercy.

There are times we need to protect ourselves and others. But there are more often times that we just don't want to deal with the drama. Times that we don't want to try to see why people are acting the way they do. We assume we already know, and we decide that people are never going to change.

I know I wouldn't have thought the criminal in the middle of his crucifixion could change.

I asked the woman in my group--did she used to be a better friend? Is it possible she's overwhelmed by the stage of life she finds herself in? Is it possible she is barely surviving, and in doing so has failed to realize that she isn't prioritizing her friend? Or maybe realizes it, and just can't right now?

And even if it's true that her friend is acting poorly...that doesn't mean cutting her off is automatically the right choice.

She could acknowledge the relationship has shifted. Mourn the loss, by all means--but then consider if her friend is now an opportunity through which she can serve Christ.

Or she can talk to her friend. Tell her she understands that her friend needs help more often now. But that it's leaving her feeling used, and she'd like to try and schedule some time for them to just spend time together, too.

Or she can step away. Not in bitterness, or washing her hands of the friendship--but in simple recognition that they aren't in the same life stage anymore, and her friend has other things she needs to prioritize. She can decide if she wants to try and keep lines of contact open enough that when her friend's life shifts again, there might be room in it for them again.

I understand that people are afraid of being used. I've been there myself: convinced that I'm only valued in certain relationships for what I DO for them.

But sometimes, maybe that's okay.

Jesus was sent here to serve. Why wouldn't I want to be like him?

"Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others.

In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus:

Who, being in very nature God,
did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage;
rather, he made himself nothing
by taking the very nature of a servant,
being made in human likeness." (Philippians 2:1-7)

It can feel like being used when it's against our will--but it becomes merciful service when we choose it.

Who can you serve selflessly today? Who maybe isn't as good of a friend but desperately needs one? To whom can you show the love of Christ by accepting them, flaws and all?

04/06/2026

I really wanted to drop in with a cup of comfort today. But instead I find myself in need of one.

The transmission went out in our car. For those keeping track, that means we're down to a single vehicle, a truck which seats three of us. A problem for a family of 6!
I decided I hadn't pushed myself enough last term, so I signed up for two master's classes this time, and now I'm in a much busier season.
I was asked to apply for a Writing Center position at my college, and we could use the extra funds to help set up my eldest, who decided to graduate early and will need an apartment setup soon.
I am trying to get the tax prep ready for my parents' retired non-profit. The documents came from the bank today, and we're on a deadline!
There are 6 days until I leave on Donovan's senior trip with him, and I have to get everything ready for my mom to watch my younger three before then. Plus I need to get packed!
Somewhere in there, I need to do homeschooling with my kids.
And of course, there are people I love who are in difficult seasons, and I'm doing my best to be there for them. Of all the things on my list, this is what I'd rather be doing!

It's a lot of little things. Any one or two would be fine. Three would be manageable.

Now, I could do a terrible job at all of these things, stress myself to the limit trying to get it all done, and be an unhappy wife and mother for the next 6 days.

Or I can admit that I've taken on more than I can handle.

That's hard. I like feeling capable. I don't know any of us who enjoy feeling like we've failed.

And when I signed on for most of these things, it WAS manageable! The car might have been the tipping point--it's our transportation for our upcoming trip! How am I supposed to find time to car shop on top of everything else?

But you know what? It's okay. I'm not going to melt down. I'm not going to rush around like a crazy person, trying to be superwoman.

I'm going to take a breath. I'm going to figure out what HAS to happen. I'm going to figure out what CAN be put aside. And I'm going to do what I can.

What I CAN. Not what I "should" do. What I literally, physically, can. WITHOUT wearing myself down to nothing.

I have not been good at this in the past. I want to be invincible. I want to believe I can "do all things." But Philippians 4:13 wasn't meant to be a challenge to take on more than I can handle.

I can do all things--I can bear all things--because He bears them for me. I can endure anything Satan throws my way, because it is the strength of God who fights him, not mine.

I can do all things--even admit when it's too much for me to handle.

I don't know what I'll do yet. For now, I'm taking a small step back and resting. I can't figure out what I need to do while I'm exhausted. And I know already that being there for the ones who need me will always take first importance, so I need to be rested.

I might have to push pause on some things that I really wanted. I might have to totally let go of others. But it will be okay.

God has led me to this season, just like all the others. And this time, instead of fighting to prove I'm able to "do it all", I'll take a lesson from Jesus. I'll withdraw to a quiet place, and I'll rest in Him.

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." (Matthew 11:28)

I may not be able to post as much this week as I'm getting things taken care of. And next week I'll be offline. But I'll be back, once my soul is in position to extend a cup of comfort again. Right now, I'm filling up my own.

Maybe you're here too, trying to be everything for everyone. Maybe you're in a season where you need to learn to let things go so you can be fully present and able where you're needed most. Maybe "one more thing" toppled what you thought you could handle. Don't use Philippians 4:13 to push yourself harder if what you need is rest. You're not failing when you rest--you're following His example. Jesus rested from his good and necessary work consistently. Let us do the same.

04/03/2026

Dear Father,
Today I pray for all those waiting.
They are tired. They are anxious. They want to believe there is a plan.
They wake up each day, not certain if today is the day they will get the answer.
Will You choose to move today?
Will today be the day You answer their prayers with joy?
Wil today be the day they finally get the "no" that is coming?
Perhaps their season of waiting will be over today, and they will be able to go into a new season--whatever that is.
But maybe today is just another day to wait.
The waiting is so hard, Lord.
Help us to remember that "they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength" (Isa. 40:31).
Your strength is there for those who wait. Help us remember to lean on it. Because we are not strong enough alone.
We love You. We believe You will answer, and Your answer will always be the right one, even when we don't understand.
In Jesus name,
Amen

04/02/2026

I wanted to focus on this text today. But all the images I found were light and calm. And I don't know about you, but I don't need this reminder when things are going well. I need it when the house is burning down, when my marriage is in upheaval, when my children are in danger, when death is knocking on the door of someone I love.

"Do not be anxious" it says. And I try. We all try. But anxiety isn't something you can wish yourself out of.

Thank God, He doesn't expect us to figure it out on our own. He tells us HOW--right in the next part of the verse.

Pray.

Because prayer isn't just a good thing to do. It's a lifeline. And the other end of the line is being held by a God who is all-powerful, all-knowing, and loves me more than I can imagine. He will save. He will comfort.

It says in 1 Peter 5:7, "Cast all your anxiety on Him, because He cares for you." That isn't a gentle "here, God, have it". Have you ever cast a fishing line, or a net? Cast too softly and it just lands right at your feet, which is pretty useless. We must CAST our cares on Him...throw them away from you with all your might. He will take our cares, but we have to let them go--we have to throw them to Him, and trust that He will catch.

It's hard. I know it is. But I don't want my anxieties. I want to be free as only He can make me free.

So when the boat is sinking, when the world is burning, when all I have in my hands is panic, I will not hold it close. I will cast it on Him, because He cares for me.