This One Is For You
Dear Friend,
Four years ago today, Promised Rest went out into the world.
I wrote it for the one whose mind can’t stop spinning with worried what-if questions. The one who knows and trusts Jesus — really, truly trusts Him — and whose body still feels anxious, and she’s not sure what to do with that.
Friend, I’m still that woman sometimes. 😊
I wrote Promised Rest because I’ve learned — slowly, and more than once through tears — that God meets us in every moment. Not just the moments when we have ourselves pulled together. Not just the perfect Sunday morning moments. But the moments when the kleenexes are crumpled all over the bed and you can’t stop crying and you wonder if you have any tears left. Those moments. God holds those in His capable hands, close to His heart.
And shortly after I handed the manuscript to my publisher — I needed every word of it.
Troy ended up in the hospital. What started as a frightening morning in the ER became the beginning of uncovering health issues that have quietly, steadily changed the landscape of our lives. I had written about how God meets us in the middle of our unknowns. I didn’t know how soon I would be living inside those pages.
I remember standing in our front yard that evening, overlooking the Iowa cornfields, watching the sun dip below the horizon and paint the sky in crimson, gold, and sherbet orange. Troy was still in critical condition. I had nothing left but tears — and this:
For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence, for my hope is from Him. He only is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be shaken. On God rests my salvation and my glory; my mighty rock, my refuge is God. Trust in Him at all times, O people; pour out your heart before Him; God is a refuge for us. (Psalm 62:5–8)
I didn’t feel brave. But I rested in the arms of God.
Psalm 62 has been a companion to me for a long time — long before that evening in the yard. When the storms have surrounded me, when the worries have kept me up at 2:00 a.m., when I didn’t know how to make my soul be still — I’ve opened my Bible to those familiar words and traced them with my fingers. For God alone, my soul waits in silence.It became a sanctuary. A place of rest for my weary, worried soul.
Maybe it can be that for you too.
So today, on this birthday — I want to share these names of God with you.
Whatever unknown has your heart trembling. Whatever you are waiting for, weeping over, wrestling through, or barely holding together — these names belong to you.
Elohim — Mighty God, Creator and Sustainer of all things. “Be still, and know that I am God.” (Psalm 46:10) When the world shakes and nothing feels stable — when the diagnosis arrives, when the phone call changes everything, when you cannot see any way through — Elohim holds the universe together. He held the children of Israel at the edge of the Red Sea when there was nowhere left to turn. The water parted. He will make a way for you too.
Abba — Father. Your Father. “You have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’” (Romans 8:15) When shame whispers that you are too much or not enough — when you feel forgotten or forsaken — Abba pulls you close. You are His beloved, His cherished, His chosen child. Nothing can snatch you from His hand. Nothing.
El Roi — The God Who Sees. “She gave this name to the Lord who spoke to her: ‘You are the God who sees me.’” (Genesis 16:13) When you feel invisible in your own fear. When you are the one holding everyone else together and no one sees how tired you are. When you cry prayers that make no sense to anyone else — El Roi sees. He saw Hagar, alone and afraid in the desert, and He called her by name. He sees you right now, in this exact moment, in this exact ache.
El Shaddai — The All-Sufficient One. “Is anything too hard for the Lord?” (Genesis 18:14) When you have nothing left to offer. When you have prayed the same prayer for years and the circumstance hasn’t changed — but you have. El Shaddai is enough. He was enough for Sarai, who waited twenty-five long years for God to fulfill His promise of a son. He held her hope when she could no longer hold it herself. He holds yours too.
Yahweh Jireh — The Lord Who Provides. “On the mount of the Lord it shall be provided.” (Genesis 22:14) When you cannot see how the need will be met — when the resources run out and the plan falls apart and the path forward is dark — Yahweh Jireh was already there before you arrived at the need. He provides. He always has. He always will.
Yahweh Shalom — The Lord Is Peace. “Peace I leave with you; My peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.” (John 14:27) When anxiety has been running so long that your body has forgotten what calm feels like. When the world delivers a gut punch you never saw coming. When you are awake at 2:00 a.m. and your nervous system won’t stand down — Yahweh Shalom meets you right there. Not on the other side of the storm. In it. His peace is not the absence of hard things. It is His presence in the middle of them.
Yahweh Ra’ah — The Lord Is My Shepherd. “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul.” (Psalm 23:1–3) When grief has disoriented everything and you can’t find your footing. When you don’t know which way to go and every direction feels wrong — your Good Shepherd knows the path. He leads. He restores. He goes after the ones who are lost. He does not lose His sheep.
Immanuel — God With Us. “Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call His name Immanuel, which means, God with us.” (Matthew 1:23) When you have to say a final goodbye to someone you love. When you are walking the hardest road you have ever walked and you wonder if God is anywhere near — Immanuel. God with us. Not watching from a distance. Not waiting at the finish line. Here. Present. In the pain, in the waiting, in the walking. With you every single step.
One of the things I’ve learned in four years of watching Promised Rest find her people is this: it helps us to remember.
When our hearts are trembling at the threshold of an unknown, one of the most steadying, strengthening things we can do is look back. Look back at the moments God met you. The prayer He answered in a way you never expected. The morning the sun came up and you were still standing. The moment you didn’t know how you were going to take the next step — and somehow, by His grace, you did.
I want to invite you to do something this week. Find a quiet moment — maybe with coffee, maybe at the end of a long day — and write down your stories. The moments God showed up. The scriptures that held you when you couldn’t hold yourself. Because those stories become your anchor for the next unknown.
He was faithful then. He will be faithful now.
Promised Rest is full of those kinds of stories — not just mine, but God’s. The Red Sea. Hagar in the desert. Sarai holding her impossible promise for twenty-five years. Through those stories, we see who He is. And when we know who He is — really know Him, in the depths of our desperate and dependant hearts — we can rest in His promises. Even when we don’t know what’s next. Especially then.
Four years in, and Promised Rest is still finding her people.
If you’ve been wanting to get a copy for yourself or someone you love — right now Amazon has it at the best price I’ve seen in a while. I don’t know how long it will last, but if you’ve been waiting for the right moment — this might be it. 🙂
And if you have read Promised Rest — Promised Hope is the companion study that carries you further into resting in God’s names and His unshakable faithfulness, even when life feels anything but stable.
If you are in the middle of an unknown right now — if you are weary and worn from carrying what you cannot fix — my new summer podcast series just launched this week.
When You Cannot Fix It: Rest for the Weary Soul.
In this first episode, I’m sharing something I’ve never talked about publicly before — and walking through what I’m learning to do with all of it. If you are a Christian woman who believes in God and whose body still feels anxious — this one is for you. It was made for the woman who is exhausted from trying to fix what was never hers to carry in the first place.
Jesus says it simply and without condition: Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.(Matthew 11:28) Not — get it together first and then come. Just come. Weary. Burdened. Braced. Just come.
And for a gentle companion in seasons just like this one, my Be Still devotional episodes are waiting for you at michellediercks.com/bestill.
Maybe you need more than a book or a podcast episode right now.
Maybe you’ve been carrying something for a long time — and you’re tired. Tired of the spinning, the striving, the same struggle showing up in a different season. As a Master Certified Christian Life Coach, I’ve learned tools that help untangle what anxiety, grief, and life transitions do to our minds and our bodies — and I anchor every single one of them in Scripture and in who God says you are. Sometimes you just need someone to listen. Someone to sit with you, ask the right questions, and hand you a tool or two that might help you breathe again. I offer a free consultation — no pressure, no obligation, no strings attached. Just a conversation. And if you decide you want more than that, we can talk about it then.
👉 [Schedule Your Free Conversation]
Right alongside you, friend.
In His peace,
Michelle