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About Alyson Kieda

Alyson Kieda has been an editor for Our Daily Bread Ministries for over a decade and has more than 35 years of editing experience. Alyson has loved writing since she was a child and is thrilled to be writing for Our Daily Bread. She is married with three adult children and a growing number of grandchildren. Alyson loves reading, walking in the woods, and being with family. She feels blessed to be following in her mother’s footsteps—she wrote articles many years ago for another devotional.

Everyone Needs Compassion

By |2020-01-10T13:46:26-05:00January 13th, 2020|

When Jeff was a new believer in Jesus and fresh out of college, he worked for a major oil company. In his role as a salesman, he traveled; and in his travels he heard people’s stories—many of them heartbreaking. He realized that what his customers most needed wasn’t oil, but compassion. They needed God. This led Jeff to attend seminary to learn more about the heart of God and eventually to become a pastor...

Water into Hope

By |2019-12-16T09:21:01-05:00December 15th, 2019|

Tom and Mark’s ministry refreshes lives. This is clear in the video they share of a group of fully clad children laughing and dancing in the refreshing water of an open shower—their first ever. The men work with indigenous churches to install water filtration systems on wells in Haiti, easing and lengthening lives as diseases connected to contaminated water are prevented. Access to clean, fresh water gives the people hope for their future...

True Friends

By |2019-11-06T13:28:03-05:00November 13th, 2019|

In high school, I had a “sometimes friend.” We were “buddies” at our church, and we occasionally hung out together outside of school. But at school, it was a different story. If she met me by herself, she might say hello; but only if no one else was around. Realizing this, I rarely tried to gain her attention within school walls. I knew the limits of our friendship...

Turn and Run

By |2019-09-13T12:25:32-04:00September 18th, 2019|

Ali was a beautiful, smart, and talented teenager with loving parents. But after high school something prompted her to try heroin. Her parents noticed changes in her and sent her to a rehabilitation facility after Ali eventually admitted the impact it was having on her. After treatment, they asked what she would tell her friends about trying drugs. Her advice: “Just turn and run.” She urged that “just saying no” wasn’t enough...

A Legacy of Faith

By |2019-08-02T13:29:26-04:00August 8th, 2019|

Long before the decisive moment when Billy Graham came to faith in Christ at age sixteen, his parents’ devotion to Jesus was evident. They’d both come to faith while growing up within a family of believers. After their marriage, Billy’s parents continued that legacy by lovingly nurturing their children, including praying and reading Scripture and attending church faithfully with them...

Words that Wound

By |2019-06-14T10:01:53-04:00June 15th, 2019|

“Skinny bones, skinny bones,” the boy taunted. “Stick,” another chimed. In return, I could have chanted “sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” But even as a little girl, I knew the popular rhyme wasn’t true. Unkind, thoughtless words did hurt—sometimes badly, leaving wounds that went deeper and lasted much longer than a welt from a stone or stick...

Throwing Stones

By |2019-05-22T11:18:04-04:00May 23rd, 2019|

Lisa felt no sympathy for those who cheated on their spouse . . . until she found herself deeply unsatisfied with her marriage and struggling to resist a dangerous attraction. That painful experience helped her gain a new compassion for others and greater understanding of Christ’s words: “Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone” (John 8:7). Jesus was teaching in the temple courts when He made that statement...

Flourishing Like a Flower

By |2019-04-11T13:19:17-04:00April 17th, 2019|

My youngest grandson is only two months old, yet every time I see him I notice little changes. Recently, as I cooed to him, he looked up at me and smiled! And suddenly I began crying. Perhaps it was joy mixed with remembering my own children’s first smiles, which I witnessed so long ago, and yet it feels like just yesterday. Some moments are like that—inexplicable...

Remembering My Father

By |2019-03-18T12:24:25-04:00March 27th, 2019|

When I remember my dad, I picture him best outdoors hammering or gardening or downstairs working in his cluttered workroom, stuffed with fascinating tools and gadgets. His hands were always busy at a task or project—sometimes building (a garage or a deck or a birdhouse), sometimes locksmithing, and sometimes designing jewelry and stained-glass art...