Dave Canovas

Ask God questions; He answers..

By Dave Canovas

How far ahead did you see when your present was too agonizing? How far back did you have to look to remember that you were everything but a criminal?

How deep were those wounds of rebuke? When rebuked, how did you not blame?

How did you not break when they shattered you? The thorned crown, the scarlet robe – how did you take the shame?

When you fell carrying the weight of our sins, did you think us worthy? When you saw your mother, did you find solace in her gaze or felt disgrace?

As they buried the first nail on your flesh, were you afraid? When you were up, did you look down and see a multitude still worth loving?

When you rose, you showed us you are our God and King. But how were you not reminded of ruthlessness by those scars, that instead of counting the cost, you uttered “peace be with you”?

With each question, let me hear your voice, Lord. Let your voice silence my chaos; quench my longing. Let it heal me even for a moment.

Lord, let your voice give me rest.

The Power of Total Surrender

By Dave Canovas

Surrender often feels like the only option when life gets overwhelming. In those moments of pain, stress, or anxiety, letting go can seem like a way to unburden ourselves—a kind of magic that eases the weight we carry.

And it’s not wrong to surrender, especially to God, when we find ourselves at a dead end. It’s natural to seek comfort and guidance in difficult times.

But there’s a catch. If we only surrender when life gets tough, we risk missing the full beauty of what surrender really means. It’s not just about giving up our struggles; it’s about giving everything—our defeats and our victories, our joys and our pains, our highs and our lows. True surrender involves offering our whole life to God.

For me, I’ve noticed a pattern. I turn to God in my most trying times, seeking His help and strength. But when the storm passes and life feels calm again, I often let Him fade into the background of my life.

Real surrender, I’m learning, is about more than just the hard times. It’s about inviting God to take full control, to guide every part of my life, not just the moments when I’m struggling. When we surrender everything, we open our hearts and minds to His wisdom and allow Him to guide us into action.

So, let’s take that step. Let’s be ready to listen for His voice, to trust His guidance, and to live fully in surrender. Only then can we experience the true freedom that comes with letting go.

Pleasing God: Embracing Our Flaws and Finding Grace

Dave Canovas

Is what I do truly pleasing to God? It’s a question that often lingers in my heart. Whenever doubt arises, I find myself returning to one thing: my intentions.

Emotions are complex and often come disguised. When someone else achieves success, you might smile and celebrate outwardly, yet beneath the surface, envy quietly festers. When others throw hurtful remarks your way, you might pretend it doesn’t bother you, but deep down, resentment simmers. Even acts of kindness can sometimes carry hidden motives—an unspoken desire for acknowledgment or praise.

When these tangled emotions take hold, it’s important not to suppress them. Instead, face them with honesty and grace. Our hearts are intricate landscapes, filled with both light and shadows. Acknowledging these emotions doesn’t make us weak; it makes us human. Only through acceptance can we begin to release their grip.

From acceptance, we can move toward surrender—offering these struggles to God through prayer. I’ve always found comfort in the imagery of “washing away” found in Scripture. Psalm 51:2 says, “Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin.” There’s something so tender and restorative in that metaphor—a promise of renewal.

Is what I do pleasing to God? The answer begins to take shape when I allow Him to transform my heart. I bring my burdens—anger, envy, pride—and lay them at His feet, trusting Him to cleanse and renew me. In that surrender, I find peace and the assurance that my imperfect offerings can still be made holy through His grace.

Aloneness

Dave Canovas

I believe there are three kinds of aloneness.

The first is the solitude you experience during a quiet morning walk, noticing everything from the mundane to the extraordinary around you. In this state, your emotions may shift between apathy and fleeting happiness—a peaceful yet transient form of aloneness.

The second kind is when you appear outwardly calm, yet chaos brews within. Oblivious to your surroundings, you are consumed by the voices in your head—self-critical, introspective, or even prideful. This type of aloneness can lead to emotional outbursts, cravings, or obsessions, but it may also spark moments of creativity and productivity.

The third and most challenging form is being alone and lonely. This is the kind of aloneness that breaks hearts. It occurs when you feel disconnected from the world, believing your life is as insignificant as a speck of dust. Some struggle to emerge from this deep solitude.

Yet, of all these phases, being alone and lonely holds the potential to be the most liberating. When you strip away all worldly attachments, you may come to realize that there is one constant presence—God. He stands by you, becoming the only world truly worth keeping.

Even Jesus experienced a poignant moment of aloneness before His crucifixion, praying in the Garden of Gethsemane as His disciples slept. As He foresaw His impending betrayal and death, He pleaded, “Father…remove this cup.” In this moment of profound anguish, we see a glimpse of our own struggles mirrored in Him.

But Jesus endured. His resurrection is a powerful reminder that we are never truly alone in our loneliness or suffering.

No matter how deep our pain, Jesus is always at the center of it, offering hope and companionship.