Three Angels Broadcasting Network devotional.
Is God Angry With Me?
By Bobby Davis
May 23rd, 2026
“Behold what manner of love the Father has bestowed on us, that we should be called children of God!” 1 John 3:1
I remember the day I met Sandi. She had a remarkable story, and her drinking had caused her to struggle with a lot of things, including self-respect, self-worth, guilt, shame, and forgiveness. But more than anything, she’d struggled with God.
Over the years, I got to know her better, and I found out that as a single mom, she’d raised several good children, gone back to college, and gotten her master’s degree in counseling. Her brokenness made her a good counselor, full of compassion; but she could still be very hard on herself.
No matter how difficult her relationship with God had been, her attempts to grow closer to Him had been rewarded—not only did God restore her sanity when it came to alcohol, He also transformed her into the caring and tender woman she was.
Sandi had many health problems, not the least of which was total kidney failure that necessitated three trips to dialysis every week. She had been in the hospital countless times, and dreaded the thought of being in a nursing home. So her daughter moved in to take care of her, and the devotion she showed her mother was remarkable.
I learned a lot from Sandi over the years, and she gained the trust and respect of her friends in the community and in her church. But as her health struggles worsened, she became confined to a wheelchair. I saw her every week for a while, but there were times when I found out she was in the hospital, or couldn’t leave her bed, so we talked on the phone.
She had struggled with depression and often told us she didn’t want to live past a certain quality of life. I remember thinking, I hope she changes her mind, but the older I got, the more I understood what she was talking about. But where does that point come?
Well, in her case, that time came a week ago, after a week-long stay in the ICU. The agony of it all caused her to say to her daughter and caregiver, “I think it’s time to stop dialysis. I’m ready to go home.”
Word spread quickly on Facebook that Sandi had come home from the hospital and was now in hospice care. “Come see Mom soon if you want to visit with her,” the message read, and when I got there, another friend was already in the room. Payton held up her hand in greeting as tears streamed down her face. Sandi’s daughter had gone to the airport to pick up relatives, but a church friend was there. She tried to wake her up, but to no avail. The morphine that kept her pain-free also kept her asleep.
We sat down in the kitchen and soon it was obvious that God had set things up, because her church friend began speaking of her own struggle with fear. I listened and prayed for the right words, then shared how the Lord had brought me through my own fear of death in the past few years. Then another church friend came in and we all went back into Sandi’s room. This time she woke up and I watched her eyes focus on Payton and then on me.
Her face lit up as I squeezed her hand. “I’m so glad you came to see me,” she said. “I wanted to thank you for helping me understand God in a different way.”
“Oh, how’s that?” I asked.
“Well, remember when I struggled so much trying to understand God? You helped me see him as a loving Father who watches over us at night—like a parent watches a newborn to make sure they’re breathing! I love that thought, and I have it today because you shared it with me.”
Gratified, I squeezed her hand again and smiled. “You’re welcome, my dear friend. But that picture of God was shared with me by somebody else….”
“Well there’s something else I want to tell you,” she added, her voice faltering for a second. “As I was making my decision to discontinue my dialysis, I was really scared that I was making God angry for doing that.”
“Oh Sandi,” I said. “I’m sure God isn’t angry at you for that. In fact, I know that He knows how you have suffered. And remember that after Jesus suffered for so long, He gave up His spirit….”
She smiled, then told me that she’d asked for a minister at the hospital, and a total stranger showed up. “He listened to my fears, and then reassured me that God wouldn’t be angry for discontinuing the extraordinary measures that were keeping me alive,” she said. “I am so grateful he was there,” she added, as tears streamed down her face, “because he prayed with me until I felt God’s peace.”
Her swollen hand gripped mine strongly. “I know He loves me, and I know He’s not angry at me,” she whispered.
I nodded and gazed into her tired eyes. Surely God knows when we don’t have any more fight left in us, and then He bids us to rest in the blessed assurance of His love.
As I held her hand, I thought of how Satan distorts most people’s perception of God, and how Jesus suffered and died a cruel death so we might be reconciled with the Father. But He did much more than that. He gave us a picture of our Father’s love for us.
I stood there and watched as a marvelous peace spread across her face. She was ready to sleep in Jesus, awaiting that moment when she would once again open her eyes and behold her Lord coming in the clouds in all His glory!
I left Sandi last week looking forward to the next time I see her alive. Her struggles are over. She won her battle with fear. Satan lost again. Hallelujah!
Is God Angry With Me?
By Bobby Davis
May 23rd, 2026
“Behold what manner of love the Father has bestowed on us, that we should be called children of God!” 1 John 3:1
I remember the day I met Sandi. She had a remarkable story, and her drinking had caused her to struggle with a lot of things, including self-respect, self-worth, guilt, shame, and forgiveness. But more than anything, she’d struggled with God.
Over the years, I got to know her better, and I found out that as a single mom, she’d raised several good children, gone back to college, and gotten her master’s degree in counseling. Her brokenness made her a good counselor, full of compassion; but she could still be very hard on herself.
No matter how difficult her relationship with God had been, her attempts to grow closer to Him had been rewarded—not only did God restore her sanity when it came to alcohol, He also transformed her into the caring and tender woman she was.
Sandi had many health problems, not the least of which was total kidney failure that necessitated three trips to dialysis every week. She had been in the hospital countless times, and dreaded the thought of being in a nursing home. So her daughter moved in to take care of her, and the devotion she showed her mother was remarkable.
I learned a lot from Sandi over the years, and she gained the trust and respect of her friends in the community and in her church. But as her health struggles worsened, she became confined to a wheelchair. I saw her every week for a while, but there were times when I found out she was in the hospital, or couldn’t leave her bed, so we talked on the phone.
She had struggled with depression and often told us she didn’t want to live past a certain quality of life. I remember thinking, I hope she changes her mind, but the older I got, the more I understood what she was talking about. But where does that point come?
Well, in her case, that time came a week ago, after a week-long stay in the ICU. The agony of it all caused her to say to her daughter and caregiver, “I think it’s time to stop dialysis. I’m ready to go home.”
Word spread quickly on Facebook that Sandi had come home from the hospital and was now in hospice care. “Come see Mom soon if you want to visit with her,” the message read, and when I got there, another friend was already in the room. Payton held up her hand in greeting as tears streamed down her face. Sandi’s daughter had gone to the airport to pick up relatives, but a church friend was there. She tried to wake her up, but to no avail. The morphine that kept her pain-free also kept her asleep.
We sat down in the kitchen and soon it was obvious that God had set things up, because her church friend began speaking of her own struggle with fear. I listened and prayed for the right words, then shared how the Lord had brought me through my own fear of death in the past few years. Then another church friend came in and we all went back into Sandi’s room. This time she woke up and I watched her eyes focus on Payton and then on me.
Her face lit up as I squeezed her hand. “I’m so glad you came to see me,” she said. “I wanted to thank you for helping me understand God in a different way.”
“Oh, how’s that?” I asked.
“Well, remember when I struggled so much trying to understand God? You helped me see him as a loving Father who watches over us at night—like a parent watches a newborn to make sure they’re breathing! I love that thought, and I have it today because you shared it with me.”
Gratified, I squeezed her hand again and smiled. “You’re welcome, my dear friend. But that picture of God was shared with me by somebody else….”
“Well there’s something else I want to tell you,” she added, her voice faltering for a second. “As I was making my decision to discontinue my dialysis, I was really scared that I was making God angry for doing that.”
“Oh Sandi,” I said. “I’m sure God isn’t angry at you for that. In fact, I know that He knows how you have suffered. And remember that after Jesus suffered for so long, He gave up His spirit….”
She smiled, then told me that she’d asked for a minister at the hospital, and a total stranger showed up. “He listened to my fears, and then reassured me that God wouldn’t be angry for discontinuing the extraordinary measures that were keeping me alive,” she said. “I am so grateful he was there,” she added, as tears streamed down her face, “because he prayed with me until I felt God’s peace.”
Her swollen hand gripped mine strongly. “I know He loves me, and I know He’s not angry at me,” she whispered.
I nodded and gazed into her tired eyes. Surely God knows when we don’t have any more fight left in us, and then He bids us to rest in the blessed assurance of His love.
As I held her hand, I thought of how Satan distorts most people’s perception of God, and how Jesus suffered and died a cruel death so we might be reconciled with the Father. But He did much more than that. He gave us a picture of our Father’s love for us.
I stood there and watched as a marvelous peace spread across her face. She was ready to sleep in Jesus, awaiting that moment when she would once again open her eyes and behold her Lord coming in the clouds in all His glory!
I left Sandi last week looking forward to the next time I see her alive. Her struggles are over. She won her battle with fear. Satan lost again. Hallelujah!
Three Angels Broadcasting Network devotional.
Is God Angry With Me?
By Bobby Davis
May 23rd, 2026
“Behold what manner of love the Father has bestowed on us, that we should be called children of God!” 1 John 3:1
I remember the day I met Sandi. She had a remarkable story, and her drinking had caused her to struggle with a lot of things, including self-respect, self-worth, guilt, shame, and forgiveness. But more than anything, she’d struggled with God.
Over the years, I got to know her better, and I found out that as a single mom, she’d raised several good children, gone back to college, and gotten her master’s degree in counseling. Her brokenness made her a good counselor, full of compassion; but she could still be very hard on herself.
No matter how difficult her relationship with God had been, her attempts to grow closer to Him had been rewarded—not only did God restore her sanity when it came to alcohol, He also transformed her into the caring and tender woman she was.
Sandi had many health problems, not the least of which was total kidney failure that necessitated three trips to dialysis every week. She had been in the hospital countless times, and dreaded the thought of being in a nursing home. So her daughter moved in to take care of her, and the devotion she showed her mother was remarkable.
I learned a lot from Sandi over the years, and she gained the trust and respect of her friends in the community and in her church. But as her health struggles worsened, she became confined to a wheelchair. I saw her every week for a while, but there were times when I found out she was in the hospital, or couldn’t leave her bed, so we talked on the phone.
She had struggled with depression and often told us she didn’t want to live past a certain quality of life. I remember thinking, I hope she changes her mind, but the older I got, the more I understood what she was talking about. But where does that point come?
Well, in her case, that time came a week ago, after a week-long stay in the ICU. The agony of it all caused her to say to her daughter and caregiver, “I think it’s time to stop dialysis. I’m ready to go home.”
Word spread quickly on Facebook that Sandi had come home from the hospital and was now in hospice care. “Come see Mom soon if you want to visit with her,” the message read, and when I got there, another friend was already in the room. Payton held up her hand in greeting as tears streamed down her face. Sandi’s daughter had gone to the airport to pick up relatives, but a church friend was there. She tried to wake her up, but to no avail. The morphine that kept her pain-free also kept her asleep.
We sat down in the kitchen and soon it was obvious that God had set things up, because her church friend began speaking of her own struggle with fear. I listened and prayed for the right words, then shared how the Lord had brought me through my own fear of death in the past few years. Then another church friend came in and we all went back into Sandi’s room. This time she woke up and I watched her eyes focus on Payton and then on me.
Her face lit up as I squeezed her hand. “I’m so glad you came to see me,” she said. “I wanted to thank you for helping me understand God in a different way.”
“Oh, how’s that?” I asked.
“Well, remember when I struggled so much trying to understand God? You helped me see him as a loving Father who watches over us at night—like a parent watches a newborn to make sure they’re breathing! I love that thought, and I have it today because you shared it with me.”
Gratified, I squeezed her hand again and smiled. “You’re welcome, my dear friend. But that picture of God was shared with me by somebody else….”
“Well there’s something else I want to tell you,” she added, her voice faltering for a second. “As I was making my decision to discontinue my dialysis, I was really scared that I was making God angry for doing that.”
“Oh Sandi,” I said. “I’m sure God isn’t angry at you for that. In fact, I know that He knows how you have suffered. And remember that after Jesus suffered for so long, He gave up His spirit….”
She smiled, then told me that she’d asked for a minister at the hospital, and a total stranger showed up. “He listened to my fears, and then reassured me that God wouldn’t be angry for discontinuing the extraordinary measures that were keeping me alive,” she said. “I am so grateful he was there,” she added, as tears streamed down her face, “because he prayed with me until I felt God’s peace.”
Her swollen hand gripped mine strongly. “I know He loves me, and I know He’s not angry at me,” she whispered.
I nodded and gazed into her tired eyes. Surely God knows when we don’t have any more fight left in us, and then He bids us to rest in the blessed assurance of His love.
As I held her hand, I thought of how Satan distorts most people’s perception of God, and how Jesus suffered and died a cruel death so we might be reconciled with the Father. But He did much more than that. He gave us a picture of our Father’s love for us.
I stood there and watched as a marvelous peace spread across her face. She was ready to sleep in Jesus, awaiting that moment when she would once again open her eyes and behold her Lord coming in the clouds in all His glory!
I left Sandi last week looking forward to the next time I see her alive. Her struggles are over. She won her battle with fear. Satan lost again. Hallelujah!
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