Lent Devotional

Hi! My name is Mitzi Arellano, and I have the great gift of being married to my husband, John, for 42 years. John joined the staff of Fellowship in 1988 as the Jr. High Pastor, and a couple of years later I became a Mother's Day Out teacher. What began as a season of ministry has become a lifetime of calling. Over three decades and multiple roles later, I can't imagine a better place to have raised our family and grown up myself. More than anything, I'm grateful for the people and the deep relationships formed along the way. It is a joy to walk alongside others as we learn to trust Jesus more fully in every season of life.

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Psalm 127 — Unless the Lord Builds the House

"Unless the Lord builds the house, the builders labor in vain… Children are a heritage from the Lord." (Psalm 127:1,3)

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When I read Psalm 127 today, I see Jesus standing at the center of my home, not as an Assistant to my plans, but as the Architect. But that clarity came through hard-fought surrender. Several years ago, our family walked through a crisis that exposed just how tightly I was gripping what I loved most — control. My youngest daughter was a freshman in college and quietly carrying a weight of depression. Like any mother, I longed to help. In my fear and love, I began reaching out constantly, calling, texting, offering advice, solutions, and direction. I wanted to fix what was hurting her. But slowly I realized something humbling: I was trying to be her Holy Spirit and I was doing a really bad job. My words, though well-intended, were not building the house. They were straining it.

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Psalm 127 became an invitation to let go of the control I held so tightly. Unless the Lord builds the house… Not Mom. Not fear. Not relentless effort disguised as faithfulness. During that time, a wise friend suggested a "word-fast", a season of intentionally stepping back from initiating calls, texts, or emails. It was not withdrawal; it was surrender. I quieted my instruction and increased my prayer. I chose to trust that the God who loved my daughter even more than I did was fully capable of building her heart. In that time, God reminded me that He does not share His glory with anyone (Isaiah 48:11), not even with a well-meaning mother. He alone awakens faith. He alone sustains weary souls. He alone carries the weight of transformation. Jesus, the Builder who never sleeps, was at work while I rested.

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Today, I look at my three daughters, their husbands, and now their children walking with Jesus, and I am overwhelmed with gratitude. They are not the result of perfect parenting. They are the fruit of a faithful Savior. "Unless the Lord builds the house..." And how beautifully He builds.

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Psalm 127 calls us to remember that Jesus is the true Builder. Unless He builds the house, our labor, no matter how sincere, is empty striving. When we step back in trust, we are not abandoning our responsibility, we are acknowledging His rightful authority. We create space for Him to work in ways we could never orchestrate and to woo hearts that seem out of reach. This Psalm invites deeper prayer, quieter hearts, and greater dependence on the Holy Spirit to do the work that is only His to do. It reminds us that the Savior who watches over the city never slumbers, and that He loves our children, and the people in our lives, even more than we do. That truth frees us. We are invited to move from striving to abiding in Him, and from managing outcomes to submitting to His plan. Instead of gripping tightly, we open our hands. Instead of filling every silence with advice, we fill it with prayer. Following Jesus often looks like doing less and trusting more. As we surrender control, our homes become places not of pressure but of grace, not of perfection but of dependence on Him.