All posts by mjharvell

Welcome, friend—I’m glad you’ve pulled up a chair on the front porch of my little corner of the internet. My name is Michael Joe Harvell, and I live my life with one simple mission: to glorify God, encourage people, and leave this world a little better than I found it. I’m a husband, father, pastor, writer, Jeep enthusiast, and front-porch thinker who believes that life is best lived on purpose. I serve as pastor of Eureka Baptist Church in Anderson, South Carolina, where I get the joy of preaching, teaching, and walking with people through the ups and downs of everyday life. Over the years, I’ve discovered that faith isn’t just about Sunday mornings—it’s about living every single day in the presence and power of God. I’m also an author. My books—including The Grace Exchange: How Forgiven People Forgive People and The Word Works—grow out of the sermons, stories, and lessons I’ve learned on this journey. I write in a style that’s conversational, a little front-porch-rocking-chair, and full of stories, quotes, and Scripture that point us back to the goodness of God’s Word. When I’m not writing or preaching, you might find me sitting outside with my Bible and journal, cruising the backroads in my Jeep Gladiator, or sharing a meal and some laughs with the good folks God has put in my life. I love helping people find peace in their spirit, strength in their body, and encouragement in their soul. This blog is simply an extension of that mission. Here you’ll find devotions, encouragement, reflections, and practical insights for living a life of purpose, peace, and joy. So grab a cup of coffee, pull up a rocking chair, and stay awhile—I’d be honored to walk this road of faith with you.

No Wants!

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.” — Psalm 23:1 (KJV)

There are some verses you don’t just read, you lean on them. Psalm 23:1 is one of those. David doesn’t start this psalm talking about green pastures or still waters. He starts with relationship. The Lord is my shepherd.

A shepherd doesn’t shout directions from a distance. He walks with the sheep. He knows their names. He stays close enough to guide, protect, and correct. David is reminding us that we are not wandering through life unattended. We are not figuring this out alone. The Lord is present, personal, and actively involved.

Then comes the promise: I shall not want. That doesn’t mean we never desire anything. It means we will never lack what truly matters. When the Lord is your shepherd, you may face hard days, but you won’t face them without provision. You may walk through valleys, but you won’t walk them unguarded. You may feel unsure, but you are never uncared for.

This verse calls us to rest. To breathe. To stop striving as if everything depends on us. If the Lord is your shepherd, then your job is not to panic, but to trust. Not to run ahead, but to follow.

Today, let this truth settle your heart: you are seen, you are led, and you are provided for. The Shepherd is near—and because of Him, you lack nothing that you truly need.

Peace!

Judges 6:24 tells us, “Then Gideon built an altar there unto the LORD, and called it Jehovah-shalom: the LORD is peace.”

That moment didn’t happen on a quiet retreat or a mountaintop worship service. It happened right in the middle of fear, uncertainty, and unanswered questions. Gideon was still hiding. The Midianites were still oppressing Israel. The situation hadn’t changed yet—but Gideon had.

Sometimes we think peace shows up after the battle is over, after the answers come, after the fear goes away. But Scripture reminds us that peace isn’t the absence of trouble. Peace is the presence of God.

Gideon didn’t build an altar because everything was calm. He built it because God met him right where he was. And he named that place Jehovah-shalom—not because the storm had passed, but because God had spoken.

Maybe today you’re standing in a place that still feels uncertain. The questions are real. The pressure hasn’t lifted. The future isn’t clear. But right there, in that very spot, God is still the Lord of peace.

Jehovah-shalom doesn’t mean life is quiet. It means your heart can be steady. It means you can rest, even while you wait. It means fear doesn’t get the final word—God does.

So build your altar today. Pause long enough to remember who God is. Name the place not by your struggle, but by His faithfulness. Because when God shows up, peace shows up with Him.

And that peace will carry you forward.

Your Healing!

Exodus 15:26 says, “I am the LORD that healeth thee.”

Those words were spoken in the wilderness, right after a miracle. The songs had barely faded. The Red Sea was still behind them. And yet the very next stop was Marah, a place where the water looked promising but tasted bitter. That’s often how life works. Victory doesn’t mean the journey gets easy. Sometimes it means the lessons get deeper.

God could have simply made the water sweet and moved on. Instead, He revealed His name. Before Israel ever faced disease or long-term struggle, God introduced Himself as their Healer. Not just someone who heals, but the Lord who heals. Healing wasn’t just an act. It was part of His nature.

That matters when you’re tired. When your body feels worn down. When your heart feels bruised. When your spirit feels thin. God didn’t say, “I might heal you if everything goes right.” He said, “I am the Lord that healeth thee.” Present tense. Ongoing. Faithful.

Sometimes healing comes in a moment. Sometimes it comes in a process. Sometimes it shows up as strength to endure rather than an instant fix. But in every season, God is still revealing Himself.

If you’re standing at your own Marah today, don’t lose heart. Bitter places can become holy places when God speaks there. Listen closely. The same God who healed then is still near now. And He is still the Lord who heals you.