Dangerous Temptation

Today’s a new day!

There is a dangerous temptation in the modern Church to preach against only the sins we personally dislike while remaining silent about the sins we tolerate, excuse, or even benefit from. Over the years, I’ve noticed that when some preachers confront the sins of American culture, the focus is often narrowed almost entirely to sexual morality, transgender debates, or Islam. While Scripture certainly calls believers to holiness and truth in every area of life, the Bible’s prophetic voice speaks just as forcefully against corporate greed, political corruption, racism, systemic injustice, slander, deception, pride, exploitation, and the neglect of the poor.

The Word of God does not allow us to selectively condemn sin based on political convenience or cultural comfort. The prophets confronted corrupt leaders who oppressed the vulnerable. Jesus rebuked religious hypocrisy and exposed systems that devoured widows while pretending to honor God. The apostles warned against greed, favoritism, division, and lovelessness just as seriously as they warned against sexual immorality.

Faithfulness to Christ means proclaiming the whole counsel of God — even when it confronts our own tribe, ideology, assumptions, or lifestyle.  

Too often, Christians can become passionate about the sins “out there” while ignoring the idols hidden within our own hearts. We may denounce immorality while harboring bitterness. We may speak loudly about truth while spreading slander or conspiracy. We may defend “Christian values” while neglecting the poor, the immigrant, the orphan, or the widow. Yet Scripture consistently reminds us that God sees all sin clearly and calls His people to repentance, humility, mercy, and holiness.

The apostle Paul paints a sobering picture of the works of the flesh in Galatians 5:19-21. The list includes sexual immorality, yes — but it also includes hatred, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, envy, and drunkenness. Likewise, Colossians 3:5-9 confronts not only sexual sin, but greed, anger, malice, slander, and lying. In 1 Corinthians6:9-11, Paul reminds believers that many of us were once trapped in various forms of sin, “but you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ.”

That is the hope of the Gospel.

The answer is not pretending some sins matter less than others. Nor is it weaponizing morality against people we fear or dislike. The answer is repentance at the foot of the Cross. The ground is level there. Every one of us stands in desperate need of grace.

God’s grace is greater than all our various sins.

Romans 13:14 tells us to “clothe yourselves with the Lord Jesus Christ, and do not think about how to gratify the desires of the flesh.” The call of Christianity is not culture war obsession; it is Christlikeness. It is allowing the Holy Spirit to expose every corner of our hearts — not just the sins that are easiest to preach about.

The Church must recover a prophetic voice that is not controlled by political parties, media outrage, or cultural tribalism. We are called to speak truth with courage and love, whether that truth confronts personal immorality, greed in the marketplace, racism in society, corruption in government, or pride within the Church itself.

Biblical Christianity does not belong to the “left” or the “right.” It belongs to Jesus.

And when we truly follow Jesus, He will challenge every idol we try to protect. ~OC

A Country Divided

Today’s a new day! I debated on whether to share the following or not. But after praying about it, I decided it was time to share the newest writing. Well, new for you, but I have been holding on to it for some time. 

As I have watched the news, scrolled social media, and had conversations with family and friends, I have been heartbroken. The division, the cruelty, the “us versus them” mentality… it literally makes me sick to my stomach. I have watched the name-calling. I have watched politics turn human beings into teams, tribes, targets, and enemies. 

People ask me all the time if I’m a Democrat or a Republican. My answer is simple: I vote for whoever I believe will do the least harm in that moment. That’s it. Politics has taken on a level of hatred I want no part of. 

A house divided cannot stand. 

 And I am afraid this country is tearing itself apart piece by piece. 

The last time I remember seeing this country truly united in my lifetime was when those towers fell on September 11th. For a brief moment, we were not White, Black, Democrat, Republican, Rich, Poor, Blue State, Red State Left or Right. 

We were simply Americans. 

We cried together. We prayed together. We held each other up. And as tragic as that moment was, the unity that followed was a beautiful thing to witness. 

I miss that. 

Now everybody wants to be right, but not enough people want to be righteous. 

My health issues have taken a lot from me over the years. But at the same time, it’s allowed me to see life with a whole new perspective. So I do not share to gain anything. I am not afraid of backlash. I’ve got nothing left to lose except my place in heaven, and I refuse to give that up. 

I don’t agree with sin — any sin — but I will always love the person. 

That’s what Jesus did. 

When the woman caught in adultery was thrown at His feet, the crowd wanted to stone her. They wanted punishment. They wanted to feel righteous by destroying someone else. 

But Jesus didn’t join the mob. 

He protected her dignity first. 

Then He said, “Go and sin no more.” 

He corrected the sin without crushing the soul. 

That’s the example I try to follow. 

And look at how Jesus treated immigrants and strangers. 

He said, “I was a stranger and you welcomed me.”  

He praised the Good Samaritan — a foreigner — as the true neighbor. 

He never taught us to fear people crossing borders. 

But today, we treat immigrants in ways we wouldn’t treat our dogs. 

We act like every one of them is a criminal. 

We forget they’re human beings — fathers, mothers, grandparents, children — many running from danger, hoping for a chance to do things the right way. 

Not all of them are criminals. 

Not all of them are threats. 

Every one of them deserves dignity and a chance to become a citizen the right way. 

This is who I try to be: 

Someone who chooses decency even when it costs something. 

Someone who refuses to join the outrage machine. 

Someone who speaks up for people being dehumanized — whether they’re immigrants, LGBTQ, disabled, poor, or simply different. 

I do not have a platform. 

I do not have a microphone. 

I have a body that doesn’t work very well anymore. 

But I still have eyes. 

I still have a conscience. 

And I still have a responsibility to speak the truth as I see it in the scriptures.

When God finally calls me home, I want to leave it knowing I stood on the side of compassion — not cruelty. On the side of humanity — not division. On the side of Jesus — not the crowd with the stones in their hands. ~OC

I Cried Out

There are moments in the life of a believer when words fail, when sermons feel too small, and when the only honest response left is tears. Recently, I found myself bowed low on my knees before God, overwhelmed by a grief so deep it felt impossible to fully explain. It was not grief over politics, culture, or the chaos of the world alone. It was grief over the condition of the global Church, especially here in America.

As I prayed, tears streamed down my face. Not tears of hopelessness, but tears of burden. Tears born from the realization that we are living in a critical hour, yet so many believers seem spiritually asleep.

The Church in America has more platforms, more buildings, more resources, and more influence than many generations before us ever dreamed of. Yet somehow, in the middle of abundance, we have often lost our hunger for the presence of God. We have mastered performance while neglecting prayer. We have learned how to build crowds while forgetting how to carry the cross. We have polished the image of Christianity while starving for genuine holiness.

And still, God is calling.

Even now, Heaven is extending mercy.

Even now, the Spirit of God is crying out to awaken His people.

I believe we are standing at a crossroads. One path leads toward comfort, compromise, and spiritual numbness. The other leads toward repentance, purification, surrender, and revival. The frightening reality is that many do not realize the urgency of the moment we are living in. Time is moving quickly. Eternity is drawing near. The hour is late.

The world does not need another watered-down gospel designed to entertain people while leaving them unchanged. The world needs a Church burning with holiness, truth, compassion, humility, and power. It needs believers who are not ashamed of Jesus. It needs disciples willing to pray when nobody is watching, obey when it is unpopular, and love when it costs something.

God is not looking for perfect people. He is looking for surrendered people.

Throughout Scripture, awakening always began the same way: with brokenness. Before revival came repentance. Before restoration came humility. Before God moved publicly, His people first wept privately.

Perhaps that is why the burden feels so heavy right now.

Because deep down, many believers sense that we cannot continue playing games with God. We cannot keep treating the holy things of Heaven casually. We cannot keep building our own kingdoms while neglecting His. We cannot keep blending in with a dying world while claiming to carry the light of Christ.

Jesus did not call us to cultural Christianity. He called us to die to ourselves and follow Him fully.

This is the hour for the Church to return to prayer.

Return to holiness.

Return to the Word of God.

Return to compassion.

Return to reverence.

Return to the secret place.

Return to our first love.

I believe God is shaking everything that can be shaken, not to destroy His people, but to awaken them. Some trust in personalities, platforms, politics, or programs, but none of those things can save us. Our hope has never been in human strength. Our hope is and always will be Jesus Christ.

The answer for America is not found in louder opinions. The answer is repentance and revival. 

The answer is the Church becoming the Church again.

So today, I continue to pray through tears:

“Lord, awaken us again. Purify Your Bride. Burn away every distraction, every idol, every compromise, and every counterfeit thing living inside of us. Teach us to fear You again. Teach us to love what You love. Refocus our hearts on eternity. Let revival begin in us first.”

May we not waste this hour.

May we not sleep through this moment.

May we not stand before God one day realizing we were too distracted by temporary things to pursue what mattered most.

Time is running out.

But the mercy of God is still calling His people home. ~OC

Christianity…The Uncut Version

The Christian walk is often presented with polished smiles, perfect church clothes, and carefully edited testimonies. But the real journey with Jesus is not always neat, clean, or easy. It is gritty. It is costly. It is beautiful and painful at the same time. The real uncut version of following Christ is not a stage performance—it is surrender.

The Christian Walk Is Not a Highlight Reel

Somewhere along the way, many believers were taught that following Jesus would automatically make life easier. That if you prayed enough, served enough, or had enough faith, the storms would stop coming.

But Scripture never promised a painless life.

Jesus Himself said in The Bible, “In this world you will have trouble.” Not maybe. Not sometimes. You will.

The real Christian walk looks like praising God while fighting anxiety.
It looks like worshipping through chronic pain.
It looks like praying when heaven feels silent.
It looks like showing up to church with tears hidden behind your smile.
It looks like trusting God while your life feels like it is falling apart.

Faith is not pretending everything is okay.
Faith is clinging to Jesus when everything is not okay.

Real Christians Still Struggle

The sanitized version of Christianity often makes believers feel ashamed for struggling. But the heroes of faith in Scripture were deeply human.

David battled fear and depression.
Elijah became so overwhelmed he wanted to die.
Peter denied Jesus.
Thomas doubted.
Paul spoke openly about weakness and suffering.

God still used every one of them.

The modern church sometimes celebrates polished personalities more than authentic surrender. But Jesus was never looking for perfect people. He was looking for willing people.

The truth is this:
Some believers are exhausted.
Some are grieving.
Some are battling addiction.
Some are fighting private temptations.
Some are barely holding on.

And yet, they still whisper, “Jesus, I trust You.”

That is real faith.

Picking Up Your Cross Is Heavy

Jesus never said, “Pick up your crown and follow Me.”
He said, “Pick up your cross.”

Crosses are heavy.

Sometimes following Jesus means losing friendships because your values changed.
Sometimes it means forgiving someone who never apologized.
Sometimes it means standing alone.
Sometimes it means obeying God while everyone around you thinks you are crazy.

The Christian walk is not always comfortable because transformation is painful.

God will lovingly tear down pride.
He will expose idols.
He will confront hidden sin.
He will lead you into wilderness seasons where your only source of strength is Him.

And honestly? Those wilderness seasons are often where the deepest intimacy with God is formed.

Church Hurt Is Real — But So Is Jesus

Many people carry scars from the church.

Some were judged instead of loved.
Some were manipulated.
Some were ignored in their pain.
Some watched leaders fall.
Some walked into church broken and walked out feeling even more condemned.

Church hurt is real.
But Jesus is not the abuse you experienced.
Jesus is not the hypocrisy you witnessed.
Jesus is not the pride of broken people pretending to represent Him perfectly.

The real uncut Christian walk sometimes involves learning how to separate Jesus from flawed human behavior.

And that healing process can take time.

Sanctification Is Messy

Following Jesus is not instant perfection.
It is daily surrender.

Some days you feel spiritually strong.
Other days you feel numb.
Some days you pray for hours.
Other days all you can say is, “God, help me.”

Sanctification is messy because God works through real people with real wounds, real habits, and real struggles.

The Christian life is not about never falling.
It is about continually getting back up and running back to Jesus.

Grace does not excuse sin.
Grace gives us the power to keep fighting.

The World Does Not Need More Performers

The world is tired of celebrity Christianity.
Tired of fake perfection.
Tired of filtered faith.

People are starving for authenticity.

They need believers who are honest about their struggles while still pointing to the faithfulness of God.
They need Christians who love deeply.
Who repent genuinely.
Who serve quietly.
Who stay faithful even when nobody is applauding.

The strongest testimony is often not someone who has a perfect life.
It is someone who walked through hell and still did not let go of Jesus.

Jesus Is Still Worth Following

Even in the pain.
Even in the confusion.
Even in the waiting.
Even in the unanswered prayers.

Jesus is still worthy.

Because the real Christian walk is not built on feelings.
It is built on the truth that Christ remains faithful even when life is hard.

Following Jesus will cost you comfort, pride, and sometimes even relationships.
But it will also give you something the world can never offer:
real hope,
real peace,
real purpose,
and eternal life.

So if your walk with God feels messy right now, you are not alone.

Keep praying.
Keep fighting.
Keep showing up.
Keep trusting.

Not because you are strong,
but because He is.

And sometimes the most powerful words a believer can say are simply:
“Jesus, I’m still here.” ~OC

Before We Speak

Today’s a new day! 

In a world overflowing with criticism, outrage, and division, followers of Jesus are called to respond differently. It is easy to point out someone’s failures. It is easy to condemn, shame, or speak harshly when people fall short. But Christ never called His people to become professional judges of broken humanity. He called us to become carriers of grace, truth, and prayer. Before we rush to criticize someone’s life, we should first fall to our knees and pray for their heart. Before we speak words of condemnation, we should ask God to move in their life the same way He once moved in ours.

Every person you see fighting battles, making mistakes, or wandering far from God is still someone deeply loved by the Creator. Many people are carrying wounds nobody knows about. Some are drowning in fear, addiction, loneliness, bitterness, or shame. They do not need believers throwing stones from a distance; they need people willing to intercede for them with compassion. Jesus showed us what mercy looks like. Even while hanging on the cross, He prayed, “Father, forgive them.” If the Son of God responded to hatred with prayer and forgiveness, how much more should we?

Pray more than you judge. Pray more than you condemn. Pray for your family members who seem far from God. Pray for those who hurt you. Pray for those trapped in sin. Pray for those who mock your faith. Prayer has the power to soften hardened hearts, restore broken lives, and bring people into an encounter with Jesus that no argument ever could. Condemnation pushes people further into darkness, but prayer invites the light of God into impossible situations.

The Church shines brightest when it reflects the heart of Christ. Truth matters, but truth without love becomes noise. We are called to stand for righteousness while still extending mercy to people who desperately need hope. None of us were saved because we were perfect; we were saved because Jesus loved us in the middle of our brokenness. May we become believers known not for harsh judgment, but for powerful prayers, compassionate hearts, and a relentless desire to see people redeemed by the grace of God. ~OC

Mental Health And The Church

Today’s a new day! May is Mental Health Awareness Month, so I wanted to share the following with you. 

The Church has not always handled mental health well. Too many people have been told to “just pray harder,” as if anxiety, depression, trauma, or emotional exhaustion are signs of weak faith. Some believers sit in pews every Sunday carrying panic attacks, grief, addiction, suicidal thoughts, or deep loneliness while smiling through worship songs because they are afraid of being judged. The truth is, loving Jesus does not make someone immune to mental struggles. Even great men and women in Scripture wrestled with despair, fear, exhaustion, and heartbreak. Faith does not erase the reality of being human.

There is nothing unspiritual about having a therapist. Therapy is not replacing God; it can be one of the ways God helps heal people. We do not shame someone for seeing a doctor when they break a bone or have cancer, so we should not shame someone for getting help with their mind and emotions. God can work through pastors, prayer, Scripture, worship, medicine, counselors, and therapists. Sometimes healing comes in a miracle, and sometimes healing comes in honest conversations in an office where someone finally feels safe enough to say, “I’m not okay.”

The Church needs to become a place where people can be real instead of pretending they have it all together. Too often Christians feel pressured to perform holiness while secretly falling apart inside. But Jesus never pushed away the broken. He moved toward them. He sat with hurting people. He listened. He restored dignity. The Church should be the safest place on earth to admit pain, not the most terrifying place to confess it.

If you are struggling mentally or emotionally, needing help does not make you weak, broken, or less Christian. It makes you human. Keep praying. Keep trusting God. But also take the steps toward healing that are in front of you. Talk to someone. Reach out for help. Healing is not always instant, and recovery is not always neat, but God still walks with people through the process. Sometimes faith looks less like pretending to be strong and more like having the courage to finally say, “Lord, I need help.” ~OC

The Limp of Faith, The Swagger of Grace

Today’s a new day!

When we truly surrender to Jesus, we often imagine peace, clarity, and a smoother path ahead—and in many ways, that’s true. But surrender also places us on a road that runs against the grain of the world. To live out His teachings, to walk in truth, grace, and conviction, is to stand in contrast to a culture that often resists both. Jesus never hid this reality. He made it clear that following Him would come with a cost—misunderstanding, rejection, and even ridicule. And yet, that cost is not a sign that something has gone wrong; it’s often evidence that something has gone right.

There will be moments when obedience feels lonely, when doing the right thing makes you the target instead of the example. People may question your choices, mock your faith, or walk away because your life reflects something they don’t understand or don’t want to confront. In those moments, it’s tempting to shrink back, to soften the message, or to blend in just enough to avoid the discomfort. But surrender isn’t partial—it’s whole. And walking with Jesus means continuing forward, even when the path is steep and the crowd thins out.

So if you find yourself walking through seasons of resistance, don’t stop walking. Even if you walk with a limp—wounded by words, weary from the journey, or burdened by the weight of it all—keep moving. God has never required perfection; He honors perseverance. A limp doesn’t disqualify you, it testifies that you’ve been in the fight and you’re still standing. Your faith is not proven in comfort, but in your willingness to keep going when it would be easier to quit.

And as you walk, walk with a spiritual swagger—not arrogance, but confidence rooted in who you belong to. There’s a quiet boldness that comes from knowing your identity is secure in Christ. It’s the kind of confidence that doesn’t need validation from the world because it’s anchored in eternal truth. You don’t have to shout to be strong. Sometimes the strongest statement you can make is simply refusing to turn back.

So walk on. Walk through the criticism, through the doubt, through the isolation if it comes. Walk with humility, but also with authority. Walk with grace, but also with conviction. And whether your steps are steady or uneven, take them knowing that Jesus walks with you—every step, every stumble, every victory. ~OC

A Calling. A Challenge

Today’s a new day!

There are moments when numbers stop being statistics and start becoming something deeply personal. Right now is one of those moments.

Roughly 3 to 3.4 billion people in the world have had little to no access to the Gospel of Jesus Christ. That’s about 40–42% of the global population. Take a moment and really sit with that. Those aren’t just figures on a page. Each number represents a life. A story. A soul created with purpose, longing for truth, searching for hope—whether they realize it yet or not.

It’s easy to feel overwhelmed by a number that large. It can seem distant, like a problem too big for any one person to impact. But the Gospel has never spread because of massive systems alone—it has always moved from person to person, heart to heart, conversation to conversation. And that brings the reality closer than we might be comfortable admitting. 

Because at some point, it becomes personal.

Many of us know the quiet tension that rises when we feel prompted to share our faith. The hesitation. The inner dialogue. What if they reject me? What if they think I’m strange? What if I say the wrong thing? Fear of rejection and ridicule can be powerful enough to silence even the most sincere believer.

But here’s the question we have to wrestle with: what are we more concerned about—the temporary discomfort of being rejected, or the eternal reality that we might be the only person who ever shares Jesus with that individual?

That shifts everything.

We often assume someone else will step in. Someone more equipped, more confident, more eloquent. But what if there is no one else? What if the opportunity in front of you isn’t random, but intentional? A divine appointment placed in your path for a reason?

Jesus didn’t call His followers to comfort—He called them to purpose. He didn’t promise that every conversation would be easy or well received, but He did make it clear that every soul matters. His love is not meant to be contained; it’s meant to be shared. Boldly. Compassionately. Authentically.

And sharing doesn’t always look like standing on a stage or having all the right answers. Sometimes it looks like a simple conversation. A testimony. A moment of kindness that opens the door to something deeper. Sometimes it’s just being willing—available to be used.

The world is searching. Beneath the noise, the distractions, and the brokenness, there is a deep hunger for hope and truth. The message of Jesus is still life-changing. Still healing. Still the answer.

So the question remains: what will we do with the opportunity in front of us?

Will we allow fear to keep us silent, or will we step forward in faith, trusting that God can use even our imperfect words? Will we focus on how we might be perceived, or on the eternal impact a single conversation could have?

Every day presents moments that matter more than we realize. Moments where eternity brushes up against the ordinary. Moments where a simple act of obedience can ripple far beyond what we can see.

Those billions of people aren’t just “out there.” They are closer than we think—in our communities, our workplaces, our daily routines.

And maybe, just maybe, one of them is waiting for someone like you to speak up. ~OC

The Story Behind The Music 

Today’s a new day!

People often ask me how I started writing music, and the honest answer might surprise them—I don’t come from some deep well of musical training or natural talent. I’ve never claimed to be a musician in the traditional sense. But what I have always had is an ear for music and a mind full of thoughts that never seem to sit still. For years, those thoughts found their way into blog posts, journal entries, and scattered writings. I didn’t realize at the time that God was planting seeds—words that would one day find a different kind of rhythm and voice.

As time has gone on, I’ve heard people assume that what I write must just be random phrases plugged into some app, especially with how much AI is shaping the world around us. But I want to be clear—every word I share comes from a real place. It comes from my heart, from my experiences, and from what strength I still have to express what’s inside me. These songs aren’t manufactured; they’re lived. They are pieces of my journey, shaped by faith, struggle, and the quiet moments where God meets me right where I am. Yes, the vocals and music are AI generated, but each word, each vocal and style of music comes from God inspired inspiration. And a lot of late nights.

The turning point came during a time of prayer. I felt God speaking to my spirit, nudging me to take those old writings and begin turning them into songs. My first response was hesitation—I told Him plainly, “I don’t know how to write music.” But in that stillness, I felt His answer just as clearly: I do. It wasn’t about technique or training; it was about obedience. So I started, unsure but willing, trusting that if He called me to it, He would carry me through it.

Not long after, I prayed a simple but bold prayer—that God would give me something new to write every single day. And in His faithfulness, He has answered that prayer again and again. Each morning brings a new thought, a new message, a new opportunity to share something He’s placed on my heart. That’s why so many of you receive those daily texts or posts—it’s not routine, it’s provision. This journey isn’t about becoming a great songwriter; it’s about being a willing vessel. And as long as He keeps giving me the words, I’ll keep writing them. ~OC

Idolatry Is Killing the Church: Putting Jesus Above Politics

There is a quiet crisis unfolding within the Church today—one that is not always visible from the outside, yet deeply felt in the spirit. It is not persecution from the world, nor a lack of resources, nor even declining attendance. It is something far more dangerous: idolatry.

Idolatry is not just the worship of carved images or ancient gods. It is anything that takes the rightful place of Jesus in our hearts. And today, one of the most subtle and pervasive forms of idolatry in the Church is the elevation of politics above Christ.

When political identity becomes more important than spiritual identity, something has gone terribly wrong. When believers are more passionate about defending a party than proclaiming the Gospel, we have misplaced our allegiance. When unity in Christ is sacrificed for political agreement, we are no longer building the Kingdom—we are dividing it.

Jesus never called us to be ambassadors of political systems. He called us to be ambassadors of His Kingdom.

In John 18:36, Jesus said, “My kingdom is not of this world.” Yet many in the Church today live as though it is. We cling to earthly power, believing it will accomplish what only the Holy Spirit can do. We justify attitudes, words, and actions that contradict the very teachings of Christ, all in the name of protecting a political cause.

This is not righteousness. This is idolatry.

The early Church changed the world not through political dominance, but through radical love, humility, and unwavering devotion to Jesus. They didn’t have influence in government—but they had the power of the Gospel. They didn’t seek control—they sought surrender.

Somewhere along the way, we traded the cross for a platform, the Gospel for a talking point, and the mission of Christ for the mission of man.

The result? A watching world that no longer sees Jesus clearly through His Church.

If we are honest, many people outside the Church associate Christianity more with political arguments than with the love of Christ. That should grieve us. Because Jesus said the world would know us by our love—not our affiliations, not our opinions, not our ability to win debates.

The solution is not to abandon civic responsibility or ignore the issues of our day. Christians can and should engage in society. But our engagement must flow from our identity in Christ—not replace it.

We must return to our first love.

Jesus must be above every ideology, every platform, every candidate, and every cause. Our hope is not in governments, but in God. Our mission is not to win elections, but to win hearts. Our calling is not to mirror the world, but to reflect Christ.

It starts with humility. Repenting where we have allowed politics to shape our faith instead of allowing our faith to shape how we engage the world.

It continues with realignment. Re-centering our lives on the teachings of Jesus—His compassion, His truth, His grace, His holiness.

And it is sustained by surrender. Daily choosing to lay down every idol, visible or hidden, and declaring with our lives: Jesus is Lord.

The Church does not need more political power. It needs more spiritual authority. It needs believers who are so rooted in Christ that nothing else can take His place.

Idolatry is killing the Church—but it doesn’t have to.

If we lift Jesus back to where He belongs—above all things—we may just see revival begin again. ~OC

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