Category: Uncategorized

Say His Name: Kohen Wiley

Say his name.

Kohen Wiley.

A one-year-old child whose life was taken far too soon.

In the coming days, some people will undoubtedly try to turn the death of Kohen Wiley into a political argument. They will attempt to fit this tragedy into their preferred narrative, use it to score points, or frame it through the lens of ideology. But this is far bigger than politics.

The murder of Kohen Wiley is a heartbreaking reflection of the state of humanity in America in 2026.

A child is gone.

A family is shattered.

A community is grieving.

And no amount of political spin can change those facts.

The reported circumstances surrounding this tragedy make it even more difficult to comprehend. The murder of a child over diapers is beyond unacceptable. It is a horrifying reminder of how broken this world can be and how desperately we need compassion, accountability, and justice.

Those responsible for the death of Kohen Wiley must be held accountable.

Justice cannot bring this precious child back, but justice matters. It matters to the family. It matters to the community. It matters because every human life has value, and the life of a child is no exception.

As Christians, we believe every person is created in the image of God. We believe children are a gift from the Lord. We believe that Jesus welcomed children into His presence and warned against causing harm to the innocent.

Today, our hearts should not be focused on arguments. They should be focused on grief, prayer, and support for those who are suffering.

My prayers go out to the family and friends of Kohen Wiley. I pray that God surrounds them with His comfort in the darkest moments of their lives. I pray He gives them strength for the difficult days ahead. I pray that He places caring people around them who will walk with them through this unimaginable loss.

There is another truth that every leader, elected official, community organizer, pastor, and public servant should understand:

Grief and anger are neighbors.

When institutions fail to acknowledge grief, anger moves in.

Not because people are impatient.

Not because people are unreasonable.

But because people are human.

Because love and loss are inseparable.

A family cannot place its sorrow on hold while officials try to figure things out. A community cannot pause its heartbreak until a press conference is scheduled or a report is completed.

The community is not reacting to paperwork.

The community is responding to the loss of an innocent one-year-old child.

That pain is real.

That grief is real.

And it deserves to be acknowledged with compassion and urgency.

My prayer is that this family finds healing. My prayer is that this community finds healing. My prayer is that justice is served and that those responsible are held accountable for their actions.

Most of all, I pray that Kohen Wiley receives justice beyond the grave from a God who sees every tear, knows every sorrow, and never overlooks the suffering of the innocent.

May we refuse to let his story be reduced to a headline.

May we refuse to let his name be forgotten.

Remember the family.

Remember the community.

Remember the loss.

And most importantly remember the name.

Kohen Wiley. ~OC

0

Living Out Answered Prayers

Today’s a new day! ~OC

Have you ever stopped to think about the prayers you prayed years ago?

The prayers whispered through tears.


The prayers spoken in hospital rooms.


The prayers prayed while driving to work.


The prayers prayed while wondering if God was listening.

Today, I want to encourage you to pause for a moment and reflect on something important:

You are currently living out at least one of the prayers you used to pray.

Maybe you once prayed for a spouse, and now you’re blessed with a loving marriage.

Maybe you prayed for children, and now your home is filled with laughter.

Maybe you prayed for healing, and while your journey isn’t over, God has brought you farther than you ever thought possible.

Maybe you prayed for a new job, a new home, a church family, financial provision, restored relationships, or simply the strength to make it through another day.

Whatever it is, there is a good chance that something in your life right now was once a desperate prayer.

The problem is that we often become so focused on what we are still waiting for that we forget what God has already done.

We can become consumed with the next prayer request, the next challenge, the next mountain to climb, and overlook the countless ways God has already been faithful.

Throughout Scripture, God often instructed His people to remember.

Remember His faithfulness.

Remember His provision.

Remember His miracles.

Remember how He brought them through difficult seasons.

Why? Because remembering strengthens our faith for whatever lies ahead.

When we reflect on answered prayers, we are reminded that God has never abandoned us. 

The same God who carried us through yesterday is the same God who walks with us today.

Maybe you’re still waiting on some prayers to be answered. Perhaps you’re praying for healing, restoration, breakthrough, direction, or peace. Don’t give up.

Take a moment today to look back before looking ahead.

Look back at the doors God has opened.

Look back at the battles He has brought you through.

Look back at the blessings you once only dreamed about.

Look back at the prayers that have become your reality

Gratitude changes our perspective.

When we recognize God’s faithfulness in the past, hope begins to rise for the future.

So today, instead of focusing solely on what you don’t have, thank God for what He has already done.

Celebrate the prayers He has answered.

Celebrate the victories, both big and small.

Celebrate the fact that His grace has carried you this far.

You may not be where you want to be yet, but by the grace of God, you are not where you used to be.

And that’s worth thanking Him for.

Prayer:

Father, thank You for every prayer You have answered, even the ones I have forgotten about. Thank You for Your faithfulness through every season of my life. Help me to remember Your goodness, celebrate Your blessings, and trust You with the prayers I am still waiting on. Strengthen my faith as I reflect on all You have already done. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

0

Hope Isles: A New Beginning/ Chapter Ten: The House That Wasn’t Empty

The drive stretched longer than James remembered roads being able to stretch.

Rebecca Turner didn’t talk much.

Neither did he.

The silence between them wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t hostile either.

It was the kind of silence that forms when someone is carrying something too heavy for words.

Hours later, the city lights of Jacksonville faded behind them, and smaller towns began to appear—places where time moved differently, where people still sat on front porches and knew their neighbors’ names.

Finally, Rebecca spoke.

“He’s been asking about you every day.”

James stared out the window.

“For how long?”

“Two years,” she admitted.

That surprised him.

He didn’t respond.

Instead, he tightened his grip on the strap of his bag.

They arrived late in the afternoon.

A quiet residential neighborhood.

Neatly trimmed lawns.

Houses that looked like they had learned how to stay untouched by time.

Rebecca parked in front of a modest home.

“This is it,” she said gently.

James didn’t move right away.

His eyes stayed fixed on the front door.

As if it might open on its own and rewrite everything.

Finally, he stepped out.

Inside, the house smelled faintly of cedar and medicine.

A man sat in a chair near a window.

Older than James remembered.

Thinner.

Still.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

The room felt too small for what was happening inside it.

Then the man looked up.

And everything stopped.

“James…”

His voice cracked on the name.

James stood frozen.

All the years between them collapsed into that single word.

“You came,” his father whispered.

James finally spoke, but barely.

“Yeah.”

Silence again.

This time heavier.

His father tried to stand.

He couldn’t.

James moved forward instinctively, catching him before he tried again.

“Easy,” James said quietly.

That was the first physical contact they’d had in years.

It shook both of them more than either expected.

“I didn’t think you would,” his father said.

James didn’t answer immediately.

Because the truth was complicated.

Finally—

“I didn’t think I should.”

That honesty landed harder than accusation ever could.

They sat together in silence for a long time.

Rebecca quietly stepped out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Just the two of them now.

Father and son.

Years of distance sitting between every breath.

“I was wrong,” his father said suddenly.

James looked at him.

“That’s a short sentence for a long history.”

A faint, tired smile crossed the man’s face.

“I deserve that.”

James looked away again.

“I spent a long time being angry,” he said.

“I know.”

“I built my life around not needing you.”

His father nodded slowly.

“I understand.”

That was the problem.

He understood too well now.

Outside, the sky shifted toward evening.

Inside Hope House back in Hope Isles, Sarah stood in the kitchen holding a mug she had forgotten to drink from.

Ethan noticed her staring out the window.

“You think he’s okay?” he asked again.

This time, she answered differently.

“I think he’s where he’s supposed to be… even if it hurts.”

Ethan frowned.

“That doesn’t sound comforting.”

Sarah gave a small smile.

“Sometimes truth isn’t.”

Back in the quiet room, James finally asked the question that had been sitting in him for years.

“Why did you leave?”

His father closed his eyes for a moment.

When he opened them, they were wet.

“Because I thought I had to choose between being a man of God… and being a man who admitted he was broken.”

James listened.

His father continued.

“And I chose wrong.”

The words hung there.

Not dramatic.

Not rehearsed.

Just honest.

“I thought I was protecting you,” he added quietly.

James shook his head.

“You abandoned me.”

His father nodded.

“I did.”

No excuses.

No defense.

Just truth.

Minutes passed.

Then James spoke again.

“You don’t get to undo it.”

“I know.”

“You don’t get to fix it.”

“I know that too.”

James studied him carefully.

“So what do you want from me?”

His father hesitated.

Then answered simply.

“Forgiveness… if you can give it.”

That word sat in the air between them.

Forgiveness.

Not instant.

Not easy.

Not clean.

James leaned back in his chair.

For a long time, he said nothing.

Because forgiveness wasn’t a moment for him.

It was a journey.

One he had been guiding others through…

But never walking himself.

That night, James stepped outside alone.

The neighborhood was quiet.

Too quiet.

He looked up at the sky.

And for the first time since arriving, he didn’t feel like he was standing in someone else’s story.

He felt like he was standing at the edge of his own.

And somewhere far away, in Hope Isles, a porch light was still burning at Hope House.

Waiting.

Not for answers.

But for a return.

Because healing, James was beginning to understand…

doesn’t always look like going forward.

Sometimes it looks like finally turning around and facing what you left behind.

To Be Continued..

0

Happy Father’s Day!

Happy Father’s Day! I want to take a moment to recognize you.

Thank you to all the men who have stepped up and embraced the responsibility of being a father. In a world that often celebrates self-interest and personal comfort, you have chosen sacrifice, commitment, and love. You have chosen to put the needs of others before your own, and that deserves to be honored.

Thank you for the early mornings, the late nights, the hard work, the prayers, the guidance, and the countless unseen sacrifices that come with raising children. Thank you for being present when it would have been easier to walk away. Thank you for choosing faithfulness when the road became difficult.

I also want to offer a special thank you to the men who are raising children who do not share their DNA. Biology may make someone a father, but love, commitment, and sacrifice make someone a dad. There are countless men who have opened their hearts and homes to children who needed someone to believe in them, protect them, encourage them, and love them. Your impact reaches far beyond what you may ever fully realize.

Throughout Scripture, we see examples of men who stepped up when God called them. Men like Joseph, who faithfully raised Jesus even though he was not his biological son, remind us that fatherhood is about far more than genetics. It is about obedience, character, and love.

Our world desperately needs godly fathers and father figures. We need men who are willing to lead with humility, love with compassion, stand for truth, and point the next generation toward Jesus. We need men who understand that true strength is not found in power or position, but in serving others.

To every father, stepfather, adoptive father, grandfather, foster father, mentor, coach, teacher, and father figure who has invested in the lives of children and young people: thank you. You are making a difference, even on the days when it may not feel like it.

Your words matter. Your example matters. Your prayers matter. Your presence matters.

Today, we celebrate you and thank God for you.

May the Lord continue to strengthen you, encourage you, and bless you as you fulfill the incredible calling He has placed on your life. May you continue to be a bright light in a world that often feels dark, showing the love of Christ through your actions, your character, and your faith.

Happy Father’s Day to all the men who have stepped up, stood firm, and loved well.

Thank you for making a difference. I pray you each have a wonderful Father’s Day. ~OC

0

Hope And Class In A Culture Of Insults

Today’s a new day! 

Several people have asked me what I think about the disgusting comments a UFC fighter recently made about former First Lady Michelle Obama. I know his name, but I have chosen not to give him any further publicity by repeating it here.

My thoughts on the matter are actually very simple.

Queens do not step off their thrones to deal with court jesters.

Strong men do not have to put down women to feel powerful.

In a world that seems increasingly driven by outrage, insults, and attention-seeking behavior, I believe we have a choice. We can join the noise, or we can rise above it.

Unfortunately, our culture often rewards the loudest voice, the harshest insult, and the most controversial statement. Social media has created an environment where some people believe that tearing others down is a pathway to relevance. But true character is revealed not by how loudly we criticize others, but by how respectfully we treat them.

Real strength is not found in mocking someone. Real strength is found in showing dignity. It is found in self-control. It is found in refusing to surrender our values simply because someone else abandoned theirs.

Whether we agree with someone’s politics, beliefs, or life choices should never determine whether we treat them with basic human decency. Respect is not a reward reserved only for those who think exactly like we do. Respect is a reflection of our own character.

As followers of Christ, we are called to something higher. Jesus never taught us to build ourselves up by humiliating others. He taught us to love our neighbors, bless those who curse us, and treat others the way we would want to be treated.

The world has enough anger.

The world has enough division.

The world has enough people trying to score points at someone else’s expense.

What our communities need are people who choose grace over outrage, wisdom over mockery, and hope over hate.

And as for me, I will continue to choose hope over bitterness, dignity over insults, and class over chaos.

Life is simply too short to live any other way. ~OC

0

Walking Our Neighborhoods: Spreading Hope

Today’s a new day!

If we’re honest, we are living through some difficult times in America and around the world.

Many families are afraid to walk through their own neighborhoods. Some are wondering where their next meal will come from. Others are carrying burdens that few people know about—grief, sickness, financial struggles, broken relationships, depression, anxiety, and fear about the future.

We live in a world that seems increasingly divided. Political divisions, racial tensions, economic struggles, and constant bad news can leave people feeling exhausted and hopeless. Everywhere we look, people are searching for answers, searching for peace, and searching for hope.

As Christians, we know where true hope is found.

Our hope is not found in politicians, governments, bank accounts, social media, or the latest headlines. Our hope is found in Jesus Christ.

The world doesn’t need more arguments right now. It needs more prayer.

That is why I want to encourage every believer to do something simple but powerful: start walking your neighborhood and praying.

Take a walk down your street. Pray for the homes you pass. Pray for the families behind those doors. Pray for the single mom trying to make ends meet. Pray for the elderly couple dealing with health challenges. Pray for the teenager battling depression. Pray for the family facing financial hardship. Pray for the child who needs encouragement. Pray for the first responders, teachers, business owners, and community leaders.

You may never know their names, but God does.

Imagine what could happen if thousands of Christians across America began walking their neighborhoods and praying regularly. Imagine communities covered in prayer. Imagine people feeling seen, loved, and encouraged. Imagine churches stepping outside their walls and becoming the hands and feet of Jesus in practical ways.

Prayer changes things.

Prayer changes hearts.

Prayer changes communities.

Prayer changes us.

As we walk and pray, we begin to see people the way Jesus sees them. We become more compassionate. We become more aware of the needs around us. We become less focused on our differences and more focused on God’s love for every person.

Jesus told us that the greatest commandments are to love God and love our neighbors. One of the simplest ways to love our neighbors is to pray for them.

Our communities do not need more division. 

They need unity.

They do not need more fear. They need hope.

They do not need more hate. They need love.

They do not need more people pointing fingers. They need people willing to kneel in prayer.

The Church has an incredible opportunity in this moment. We can choose to be carriers of hope in a hopeless world. We can choose to be peacemakers in a divided culture. We can choose to bring light into places that seem dark.

So I encourage you today: lace up your shoes, step outside, and start walking. Pray over your neighborhood. Pray over your city. Pray over your schools. Pray over your businesses. Pray over your local churches. Pray over the people you encounter.

You may never fully see the impact of those prayers this side of Heaven, but God hears every single one.

Let’s unite our communities through prayer.

Let’s love our neighbors intentionally.

Let’s be the hands and feet of Jesus

And let’s bring hope to a world that desperately needs it.

“Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.” — Galatians 6:2

Our neighborhoods may be changed one prayer at a time. ~OC

0

Hope Isles: A New Beginning Chapter Nine: The Road He Didn’t Want To Take

For two days after Rebecca Turner’s visit, James was quieter than usual.

Hope House still moved with life—Sarah working shifts at the diner, Ethan learning the rhythm of the barn workshop, June dropping off pies she pretended weren’t intentional acts of kindness.

But James moved through it all like someone standing slightly outside his own life.

On the third morning, Pastor Timothy knocked on the open kitchen door.

James was sitting at the table with the photograph again.

Same image.

Same boy.

Same father.

Different weight every time he looked at it.

“Mind if I sit?” the pastor asked.

James nodded.

Timothy took the chair across from him and didn’t speak right away. He just looked at the photo.

“That him?” he finally asked.

“My father,” James said.

A pause.

“You’re thinking about going.”

It wasn’t a question.

James exhaled slowly.

“I don’t want to.”

“But you are.”

James didn’t answer immediately. Outside, a blue jay landed on the porch railing, tilted its head, and flew off again like it had lost interest.

“I don’t know what I’ll find there,” James said.

“Sometimes that’s not the point,” Timothy replied.

James looked up.

“What is the point?”

The pastor leaned back slightly.

“Obedience. Healing. Closure. Sometimes all three… sometimes none of those words fit.”

James gave a faint, tired laugh.

“That doesn’t help much.”

Timothy nodded.

“It’s not supposed to.”

By that afternoon, Hope Isles already knew.

They always did.

At the Sit Awhile Diner, June slid a plate of food across the counter to Joe the mailman.

“You think he’s really going?” Joe asked.

June didn’t pretend not to understand.

“James? Yes.”

Joe frowned.

“That doesn’t feel like a good idea.”

June glanced toward the window where Main Street stretched quiet and still.

“Sometimes the right thing doesn’t feel good at all.”

Ethan found James in the barn later that day.

He was sanding the rocking chair again. 

Even though it didn’t need it anymore.

“You’ve been doing that for an hour,” Ethan said.

James kept sanding.

“Habits are hard to break.”

Ethan stepped closer.

“Sarah said you might leave for a while.”

That made James stop.

He finally set the sandpaper down.

“Yeah.”

Ethan nodded slowly, processing it.

“So… what happens here?”

James looked around the barn.

At the unfinished projects.

At the tools.

At the life slowly being rebuilt out of broken things.

“You keep going,” James said.

Ethan frowned.

“That’s it?”

“That’s always it.”

Ethan hesitated.

“You coming back?”

James didn’t answer quickly enough.

And Ethan noticed.

That night, Sarah sat with James on the porch steps.

The crickets were loud, filling the silence between them.

“You don’t have to go,” she said.

James stared at the dark road ahead.

“I know.”

A pause.

“But I think I’m supposed to.”

Sarah studied him.

“You’re scared.”

He almost smiled.

“I’d be worried if I wasn’t.”

She leaned back on her hands.

“Is it forgiveness you’re afraid of… or what happens if you can’t do it?”

That question hit deeper than either of them expected.

James didn’t answer right away.

Finally—

“Both.”

Sarah nodded slowly.

“That’s honest.”

He glanced at her.

“You think I should go?”

“I think,” she said carefully, “that sometimes God doesn’t heal things by removing us from them.”

A quiet stretch of silence.

Then she added:

“But by walking us through them.”

The next morning, James packed a small bag.

No dramatic farewell.

No announcement.

Just movement.

Simple.

Intentional.

Real.

At the front gate, Ethan stood waiting.

“You’re really going,” he said.

James nodded.

Ethan looked down at the ground.

“Don’t come back different,” he muttered.

James gave a small, knowing smile.

“I already am.”

That made Ethan look up.

And for the first time, James placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Keep building,” he said.

Ethan swallowed hard.

“I will.”

June stood at the diner doorway as James passed by.

“You better not make a habit of disappearing,” she called out.

James smiled.

“I’ll try not to.”

Joe lifted a hand in farewell from the mail truck.

“Don’t let your bicycle miss you too much!”

“I’ll tell it you said hello,” James replied.

At the church steps, Pastor Timothy met him last.

They didn’t speak for a moment.

Then Timothy said, “Remember who you are.”

James nodded.

“And who I am?”

The pastor smiled faintly.

“A man God isn’t finished with yet.”

James exhaled, almost like a weight had loosened slightly.

“Turner in a quiet rental car, the town slowly faded behind them.

The diner.

The church steeple.

The harbor.

Hope House.

All of it.

Sarah stood on the porch long after the car disappeared.

Ethan stood beside her.

“You think he’ll be okay?” Ethan asked.

Sarah didn’t answer right away.

Then—

“I think he’s finally walking toward something he’s avoided his whole life.”

Ethan frowned.

“Which is?”

Sarah watched the empty road.

“His own healing.”

And miles away, James looked out the window as Hope Isles disappeared from view.

For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t sure what waited ahead.

Only that he couldn’t stay where he was.

Because some journeys aren’t about leaving a place.

They’re about returning to the parts of yourself you buried long ago.

And Hope Isles…


was no longer just a town behind him.

It had become the place that taught him how to begin again.

To Be Continued…

0

Why As A White Man In America, I Celebrate Juneteenth

Today’s a new day! ~OC

Why, as a white man in America, do I choose to celebrate Juneteenth. Every year when Juneteenth arrives, I see some people asking why they should celebrate a holiday that commemorates the end of slavery in America. As a white man, I have a simple answer: because freedom is worth celebrating.

Juneteenth marks June 19, 1865, the day when enslaved people in Texas finally learned they were free—more than two years after the Emancipation Proclamation had been issued. It is a day that reminds us of both the painful chapters of our nation’s history and the triumph of freedom over oppression.

As a Christian, I believe every person is created in the image of God (Genesis 1:27). That means every life has value, dignity, and worth. Slavery violated that God-given dignity. It treated human beings as property rather than as precious creations of the Lord. Because of that, the ending of slavery is something every follower of Christ should celebrate.

I do not celebrate Juneteenth because of guilt. I celebrate Juneteenth because of gratitude.

I am grateful for the men and women who stood against injustice. I am grateful for those who courageously fought for freedom. I am grateful that our nation moved closer to the biblical truth that every person is equal before God.

Juneteenth also reminds me that freedom is one of God’s greatest gifts. Throughout Scripture, we see God delivering people from bondage. He freed the Israelites from slavery in Egypt. He sent Jesus to set captives free. The Gospel itself is a story of liberation—freedom from sin, shame, and death through Jesus Christ.

When I celebrate Juneteenth, I am celebrating more than a historical event. I am celebrating the principle that no human being should live in chains. I am celebrating the truth that every person deserves to be treated with dignity and respect. I am celebrating the progress that has been made while recognizing there is always room to grow in loving our neighbors better.

As believers, we should never be afraid to acknowledge painful moments in history. Doing so does not weaken our faith or our love for our country. Instead, it helps us appreciate how far we have come and inspires us to continue pursuing justice, mercy, and compassion.

The Church should be a place where people from every background come together as one family in Christ. Scripture tells us that in Heaven there will be people from every tribe, tongue, and nation worshiping before the throne of God. That beautiful picture should encourage us to celebrate the diversity of God’s creation here on earth.

As a white man in America, I celebrate Juneteenth because freedom is worth celebrating.

I celebrate because God’s heart is for justice.

I celebrate because every person bears His image.

I celebrate because Jesus came to set people free.

And I celebrate because when one group of people experiences greater freedom, it is something that benefits all of us.

May Juneteenth remind us of the value of every human life, the importance of learning from history, and the hope that is found in Jesus Christ—the One who offers true freedom to all who call upon His name.

“Therefore if the Son makes you free, you shall be free indeed.” — John 8:36

0

Either Way I Win

In 2019, after almost eighteen years of major health battles and being told on multiple occasions that I only had hours left to live, I experienced a beautiful miracle from God.

At that point in 2019, doctors believed I only had weeks remaining. The situation looked impossible. The circumstances seemed hopeless. Yet Jesus stepped into the middle of the story and reminded me that He always has the final say.

It was a true miracle.

Since that miracle, however, my journey has not been without additional challenges. I have endured multiple serious battles with COVID and also suffered a stroke. Today, my health journey has entered its twenty-fourth year.

Over those years, countless people have prayed for my complete healing. I am deeply grateful for every prayer, every encouraging message, every act of kindness, and every person who has stood beside me during difficult seasons. Those prayers have meant more than I could ever adequately express.

But as I have prayed about my health and spent time talking with Jesus, I have found myself reflecting on this journey from a different perspective.

I think about the many patients I have met over the years.

I think about the hospital rooms.

I think about the waiting rooms.

I think about the difficult conversations.

I think about the opportunities God has given me to pray with people, encourage people, and remind people that they are not alone.

Some Christians have viewed my health journey as something negative. They have looked at the diagnoses, the treatments, the setbacks, and the ongoing battles and wondered why God has not completely removed them.

But I have never viewed my journey that way.

I have always seen it as an opportunity.

An opportunity to share the love of Jesus.

An opportunity to share the hope of Jesus.

An opportunity to remind hurting people that God is still faithful even when life is difficult.

As I think about this, I am reminded of others whom God has used powerfully despite significant challenges.

I think about the Apostle Paul, who prayed for the “removal of his thorn in the flesh”, yet God told him, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.” Paul went on to impact the world with the Gospel despite his ongoing struggles. 

I think about Joni Eareckson Tada, whose life and testimony have inspired millions around the world.

I think about Nick Vujicic, who was born without arms and legs yet continues to share the Gospel with millions across the globe.

I think about Billy Graham, who faithfully preached Christ throughout seasons of physical weakness and aging.

I think about Eric LeGrand, whose courage and faith have encouraged countless people through adversity.

None of these individuals allowed their struggles to define them. Instead, they allowed God to use them right where they were. 

Their stories remind us that God’s power is not limited by our circumstances.

Throughout my own health journey, God has repeatedly shown me that my willingness to continue sharing the love and hope of Jesus during difficult seasons has encouraged others who are walking through storms of their own.

Sometimes we assume that our greatest ministry will happen after God removes our struggle.

But what if God wants to use us in the middle of the struggle?

What if the very battle we are asking Him to remove is the place where He is doing some of His greatest work?

What if our pain becomes a platform for His glory?

What if our scars become evidence of His faithfulness?

I still believe Jesus heals.

I still believe miracles happen.

After all, I am living proof that they do.

And maybe Jesus will choose to perform another miracle in my life on this side of Heaven.

Maybe He will completely restore every area of my health.

I certainly welcome the prayers everyone continues to pray for my healing.

But perhaps God is using this season exactly as it is.

Perhaps there are people I can reach because of this journey that I could never reach otherwise.

Perhaps there are conversations that happen because of these challenges that would never happen without them.

Perhaps Jesus has me planted exactly where He wants me.

So if God leads you, please continue praying for my healing.

But also pray that Jesus continues to use me.

Pray that I remain faithful.

Pray that I continue to encourage others.

Pray that I continue sharing His love and hope wherever He opens a door.

Because whether I receive another miracle here on earth or whether God continues to use me in the middle of this battle, my victory is already secure in Christ.

If He heals me completely here on earth, I win.

If He uses my story to bring hope to others, I win.

If He uses my struggles to point people toward Jesus, I win.

And one day, whether through healing here or perfect healing in Heaven, I will stand in the presence of my Savior completely restored.

Either way, I win.

“For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.” (Philippians 1:21)

And that is a victory no illness can ever take away. ~OC

0

A Prayer For The Cancer Support Group

Dear Heavenly Father,

Today I lift up every member of the Cancer Support Group into Your loving hands. Lord Jesus, surround each person with Your perfect peace that surpasses all understanding. Strengthen them for every challenge they face, renew their hearts and minds, and grant wisdom to them, their families, and their medical teams.

I pray for Your healing touch to rest upon each life. Bring comfort where there is fear, hope where there is discouragement, and courage for each new day. Remind them that they are never alone, for You walk beside them through every appointment, treatment, and trial.

Help them continue to lean into Your promises, trusting that You are faithful, good, and present in every season. May they find rest in Your presence, strength in Your Word, and confidence in Your unfailing love.

In the mighty and healing name of Jesus, I pray. Amen. ~OC

0

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑