This week we’re in John 9. A man born blind. Mud made from spit and dirt. A miracle that should have been a celebration and turned into an interrogation.

The religious authorities had a system. The system worked great — until a man who’d never seen anything in his life walked in and said I washed. Now I see. That answer should have ended the conversation. Instead it ended him. They threw him out.

Here’s the thing about getting thrown out of rooms.

Jesus goes looking for the people who got ejected. He doesn’t stay inside to argue with the ones doing the ejecting. He walks out, finds the man sitting in the rubble of his former life, and shows him something deeper than sight.

The Preacher in Ecclesiastes said it three thousand years before that moment: God is in heaven and you are on earth. Therefore let your words be few. The people with the most words couldn’t see the miracle. The man with mud on his face could.

I have something personal to say about having your testimony questioned. About standing in a room with your actual life in your hands and being told it doesn’t count. About building new rooms when the old ones can’t hold your story. The 13th Room exists because of exactly this.

★ Sidebar Note from Kari: Jesus made mud with spit and his hands. He did not convene a committee.

Episode 5: Mud in His Eyes is live now — Fourth Sunday of Lent, arriving three days late and completely unashamed about it.

📖 Ecclesiastes 5:1–7; 8:16–17 | John 9:1–41

A few questions to carry with you:

* When has a miracle in your life been treated as a procedural problem by someone with a system?

* What’s the difference between religious noise and the actual voice of God — and how do you tell them apart in real time?

* Have you ever been thrown out of a room? What did Jesus do next?

One thing I know. I was blind. Now I see. That testimony doesn’t require anyone’s validation to be true.

Episode 6 — Roll Back the Stone — drops next Wednesday, March 28. Fifth Sunday of Lent. Ecclesiastes 11. John 11. Lazarus in the grave clothes. We’re going there.

We’ll keep walking — and while we do, I encourage you to be brilliant. This is Everything Under the Sun. A Lenten Journey through Ecclesiastes. I’m Kari Kounkel. Stay close.

The Preacher in Ecclesiastes diagnoses it plainly: a person building a life alone, eyes never satisfied, never stopping to ask — for whom am I doing this? Two are better than one. A threefold cord is not quickly broken. But the cord only holds if you’ve got the right three strands. And most of us have been weaving with two our whole lives, wondering why we keep ending up cold.

The woman at the well didn’t end up at noon by accident. She got there the same way most of us do — by reaching for the cord over and over, marriage after marriage, community after community, and watching it snap every time. Until a stranger sat down and offered her something none of those cords had been able to hold.

In this episode I tell you about the quiet collapse of a person who had been carrying more than she was built to carry. About a piano bench in a Catholic church and hands that remembered before my heart did. About what it means to finally find the third strand — not in a revival, not in a resolution, but in the giddy, barely-contained joy of recognition. Like the place you thought you lost was still waiting. Right where you left it.

Questions to sit with this week: What have you been weaving your cord out of — and is the third strand in it? What have you kept going back to that keeps leaving you thirsty? Where are you cold right now? What would you leave behind if something better interrupted the reason you came?

This week’s scriptures: Ecclesiastes 4:7–12; 7:1–4 John 4:5–42

We’ll keep walking. Stay close.

This week, the glory is real. And you still can’t keep it.

Ecclesiastes 3 is the passage that shows up on sympathy cards and cross-stitched pillows. A time to be born, a time to die. You’ve heard it so many times it stopped being terrifying. But it is. Because what the Preacher is actually saying is: you don’t get a vote. The seasons change without your permission. The clock is not yours.

And then there’s Peter on the mountaintop, watching Jesus shine like the sun with Moses and Elijah standing right there — the Law and the Prophets in the flesh — and his whole body screaming stay here, stay here, stay here. So he reaches for a hammer. “Let me build three tents.” Beautiful instinct. Holy, even. And God cuts him off mid-sentence: This is my beloved Son. Listen to him.

Not build for him. Listen.

In this episode I tell you about Walt Disney sitting on a park bench watching his daughters ride a carousel — and what happened to that impulse. And I tell you about crawling through the actual Hundred Acre Wood in Sussex in completely inappropriate sandals, chanting “I love sidewalks” like a prayer of surrender, because the real forest has no gift shop and the mud doesn’t know it’s famous.

The joy isn’t in the keeping. The joy is in the witness.

This week’s music is My Savior’s Song. I created the file in Suno.

We’ll keep walking. Stay close.

This week, the wilderness answers back.

In Episode 2 of Everything Under the Sun, we sit with a hard truth the Church hands us quietly every Lent:

Evil rarely looks evil. It looks reasonable. It looks helpful. It looks like the thing you’ve been praying for — just offered on the wrong terms.

Jesus isn’t tempted with garbage in the wilderness. He’s offered bread when He’s starving. Proof when He’s vulnerable. Kingdoms that already belong to Him — without the cross.

Ecclesiastes runs the same experiment, the long way. And so did I.

This episode is about learning to recognize good things offered through the wrong door, and why Jesus’ answer — “It is written” — still matters when the gift is beautiful.

🎧 Listen to Episode 2: Gift-Wrapped [Podcast player / link]

After you listen, I’d love to hear from you — here, in the comments. What’s the beautiful thing you’ve been leaning on?

We’ll keep walking. — Kari

THIS WEEK’S PROMPTS

– What feels like vapor right now?– Where have you been striving without noticing?– What would it look like to be unseen on purpose this week?– What urgency might not be yours to carry?

This week’s music is My Savior’s Song, which I’m hoping to turn into Mass Parts. I created the file in Suno.

Ecclesiastes 1:1–11 · Matthew 6:1–6, 16–21

Vanity of the Vanities — The Striving

Ecclesiastes opens with the most honest line in Scripture:

“Vanity of vanities. All is vapor.”

I had planned a series about songs. God handed me Ecclesiastes through grief. That’s the most Lenten thing that could have happened — I went into the wilderness expecting one road and found another.

This series is for people who’ve stood at a graveside and thought, “What was any of it for?” And then kept standing there until the answer showed up wearing work boots.

Listen to Episode 1 — and let me know what you think. If you can, do it here. Let’s start the conversation.

We’ll keep walking. Stay close.

THIS WEEK’S PROMPTS

– What feels like vapor right now?– Where have you been striving without noticing?– What would it look like to be unseen on purpose this week?– What urgency might not be yours to carry?

This week’s music is My Savior’s Song, which I’m hoping to turn into Mass Parts. I created the file in Suno.

✨ Get the full 40-day devotional PDF here: 40 Days 4 Life Devotional

Welcome back to 40 Days 4 Life. I’m Kari Kounkel, and we’re walking these days out together — prayer by prayer, step by step, from the womb to wisdom, from diapers to dentures.

Today’s verse is Job 31:15: “Did not he who made me in the womb make them? Did not the same one form us both within our mothers?”

Today’s focus: God is the same Creator for every single one of us. There are no exceptions, no footnotes, no “some assembly required” labels.

This verse doesn’t let us wiggle out of it. The same God who made me also made the person I can’t stand. That’s humbling. And it’s leveling. Whether someone is wealthy or struggling, charming or awkward — we share the same breath, from the same source.

But here’s the twist: sometimes we shrink back from being seen. We don’t want to be called out — because being noticed might expose something we’d rather hide. I think of those recent “kiss cam” moments where the camera zoomed in, and suddenly a secret is out. People doing what they thought was hidden suddenly have a spotlight on them.

And isn’t that true in life? We want to be noticed for our best, not for our shame. Yet even in those moments of exposure, being named can become healing. God doesn’t just call us out; He calls us by name. Even when we’re caught in our worst, He doesn’t leave us in humiliation — He invites us into restoration.

So the question isn’t “Will I be seen?” It’s “How will I respond when I am?” Because whether I like it or not, the same God who knit me together also knit them. The same eyes that see me in my beauty also see me in my mess. And somehow, He still says, “Yes. You are mine.”

It’s humbling to remember God formed both me and the guy who steals parking spaces. And if we’re being fair, I’ve been the parking-space thief a few times myself — proof I’m not always the hero of the story.

Pray with me: Lord, You formed each of us in the womb and gave us life by Your hand. Because You made both me and my neighbor, life matters at every stage — from the tiniest heartbeat to the final breath. Even when shame tempts me to shrink from view, call me by name, and remind me that each person’s existence carries Your image and intention. Help me to honor that truth in how I see myself and how I see others.

Today, notice someone different from you — even someone you’d rather ignore. Instead of shrinking back, speak their name, or offer a smile. Remind them, and yourself, that we are all seen.

That’s Day 4 of 40 Days 4 Life. You can follow along on Substack or grab the full devotional in my store. Life is sacred, laughter is holy — and now, go be brilliant.

🎶 Background music composed by Kari Kounkel using Suno AI. Because when I need background music, I make it myself.

Today’s verse is Genesis 1:27-28: “So God created mankind in his own image... male and female he created them. God blessed them and said to them, ‘Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it.’”

Our focus: every person reflects God’s image and is made to thrive.

This verse says we are created in the image of God — male and female, blessed, and called to multiply. It’s one of those truths we’ve heard so often it risks sounding like a bumper sticker. But stop and consider: the image of God. Every single person, from the tiniest infant to the frailest elder, is stamped with divine likeness.

Now, we don’t always reflect that image perfectly. Sometimes we distort it, sometimes we hide it, sometimes we flat-out deny it. But the image is still there, like a watermark you can’t erase. And that changes how we look at life. A newborn in a NICU carries the image. A teenager wrestling with identity carries the image. A parent exhausted at the kitchen table carries the image. A grandparent slipping into dementia still carries the image.

And here’s a twist: this isn’t just about value. It’s also about calling. Being made in God’s image means we’re not consumers of life; we’re caretakers of it. We’re called to steward the earth, to multiply good, to bless others the way God blesses us. That’s why life matters — not just because it exists, but because it carries the imprint and mission of the Creator Himself.

Being made in God’s image doesn’t erase my weird quirks. Evidently, the divine likeness includes my addiction to snacks after 10 p.m. and my uncanny ability to kill houseplants. Still, somehow: image-bearer.

Pray with me: God of life, You created every person in Your image. That means every stage — the newborn’s cry, the teenager’s questions, the parent’s responsibilities, the elder’s slow steps — all carry Your reflection. Life matters because it reflects You, not just in strength or beauty, but even in weakness and fragility. Teach me to honor that truth from the very first breath to the very last, and to see every person as bearing the dignity You gave them at creation.

Text or call one specific caregiver you know — a parent, teacher, nurse, or that neighbor with the special needs kid. Say exactly this: “I see how hard you’re working. You’re doing holy work, even when it doesn’t feel like it.”

That’s Day 5 of 40 Days 4 Life. You can follow along on Substack or grab the full devotional in my store. Life is sacred, laughter is holy — and as always, now go be brilliant.

🎶 Background music composed by Kari Kounkel using Suno AI. Because when I need background music, I make it myself.

I hear you telling me you’re listening and I appreciate the shares!!! Let’s get this message out there! LOVE YOU all!

Today’s verse is Isaiah 49:1: “The LORD called me from the womb, from the body of my mother he named my name.”

Our focus is simple: God names us. He calls us even before anyone else knows we exist.

Names matter. They carry stories. Think about how it feels when someone remembers yours. You’re not just “hey you,” you’re you. God has been doing that since before your birth certificate.

And here’s the kicker — it doesn’t stop when people forget. The elderly woman in the nursing home whose name tag has worn off? God knows her name. The child who never got to grow up? God knows their name. Even when we lose track of ourselves, He doesn’t.

So when you use someone’s name today, think of it as joining God in saying: I see you. You matter.

If being formed by God is true, it means He also signed off on my cowlicks, my inability to parallel park, and the way I cry at dog food commercials. Apparently, He wanted a design with character. Mission accomplished.

Pray with me: Lord, help me to honor the dignity of every person by remembering that You have called them by name.

Today, use someone’s name with intention — whether it’s the cashier, a child, or that coworker who always seems invisible. Remind them, and yourself, that they are not forgotten.

That’s Day 3 of 40 Days 4 Life. You can find the full devotional on Substack or in my store. Life is sacred, laughter is holy — and as always, now go be brilliant.

🎶 Background music composed by Kari Kounkel using Suno AI. Because when I need background music, I make it myself.

Today’s verse is Psalm 139:13-16: “For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made...”

Our focus today is this: We’re considering God as an artist. Every life — yours, mine, and even that neighbor whose dog never stops barking — is intentionally crafted by His hands.

Think about the care it takes to knit. It’s slow, steady, deliberate. Knots, loops, rows that only make sense when you see the full piece. That’s how God made you. Not on a conveyor belt. Not mass-produced. Knitted.

And if that’s true, it means we’re not mistakes or throwaways. It also means the people who seem the hardest to love — the coworker who drives you nuts, the relative who overshares — they’re masterpieces too. It doesn’t make them less annoying, but it makes them holy.

And honestly, “fearfully and wonderfully made” includes my double chin on Zoom, the mysterious sprouting of chin hairs faster than faith, and knees that sound like bubble wrap. God still looked at me and said, “Yep. Wonderful.”

Pray with me: Lord, open my eyes to see Your handiwork in myself and in others. Help me treat each person as the sacred art that they are.

Your step today: thank God for your own life, and then thank Him for one person whose life blesses yours. If you’re feeling bold, tell that person directly — text, call, or look them in the eye and say it out loud.

OutroThat’s Day 2 of 40 Days 4 Life. You can follow along on Substack or grab the full devotional in my store. Life is sacred, laughter is holy — and as always, now go be brilliant.

🎶 Background music composed by Kari Kounkel using Suno AI. Because when I need background music, I make it myself.

✨ Get the full 40-day devotional PDF here: 40 Days 4 Life Devotional