Tag: Challenge

Dear Christians, Please Stop the Hate

Dear Christians,

Please stop the hate.

We live in a world that desperately needs Jesus, but sometimes the loudest voices claiming to represent Him are not reflecting Him at all.

We talk about Jesus, but do we love like Jesus?

We quote Scripture, but do we live it?

We defend our beliefs, but do we remember the words Jesus actually spoke?

The red letters of the Bible call us to love our enemies, pray for those who hurt us, forgive, show mercy, care for the hurting, welcome the stranger, serve the least of these, and love our neighbors as ourselves.

That isn’t weakness.

That is Christianity.

Jesus didn’t tell us to win every argument. He told us to love one another.

He didn’t tell us to build walls around ourselves. He told us to go and make disciples.

He didn’t tell us to hate people who disagree with us. He showed us how to love people who were different from Him.

So, dear Christians, let’s stop using Jesus as a weapon and start following Jesus as our Savior.

Let’s put down the hate.

Let’s put down the outrage.

Let’s put down the judgment.

And let’s pick up love, grace, mercy, compassion, forgiveness and truth.

Don’t just wear the name Christian. Live like Christ.

The world doesn’t need more people shouting about Jesus.

The world needs more people who actually live like Jesus.

“By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” — John 13:35

Love like Jesus.
Serve like Jesus.
Forgive like Jesus.
Live like Jesus.

That’s what the red letters are calling us to do. ~OC

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Dear America, I’m Tired

I’M TIRED.

I’m tired of the lies.
I’m tired of the misinformation.
I’m tired of the arrogance.
And I’m tired of being told that everything is better when so many Americans are struggling to see it in their own lives.

As an American, I don’t want to blindly defend a political party or a president. I want to defend truth, accountability, freedom, and the people who call this country home.

The numbers matter.

Inflation is still putting pressure on American families. The latest BLS report shows consumer prices were up 3.4% over the previous year, while real average hourly earnings declined in August.

And we are now months into a war with Iran that has already cost tens of billions of dollars. A September Reuters/Ipsos poll found that only 25% of Americans considered the war worthwhile, while 82% expected the conflict to continue for an extended period.

That isn’t something we should simply accept because someone tells us it’s necessary.

Questioning our government isn’t being anti-American.

Demanding honesty isn’t being disloyal.

Wanting peace isn’t weakness.

And asking whether our leaders are actually making life better for ordinary Americans isn’t political extremism.

It is citizenship.

I don’t expect every American to agree with me. In fact, I believe disagreement is part of what makes our country work.

But I do expect us to demand more from those entrusted with enormous power.

Less arrogance.
Less propaganda.
Less division.
Less blaming.
Less pretending everything is perfect.

And more truth.
More humility.
More accountability.
More listening.
More diplomacy.
More concern for working families, veterans, children, seniors, and people who are simply trying to survive.

I don’t want America to fail.

Quite the opposite.

I want America to heal.

I want America to come together.

I want leaders who understand that serving the American people is a privilege—not a personal kingdom.

So I’m praying.

I’m praying for new beginnings.

I’m praying for real leadership.

I’m praying for wisdom in Washington and peace around the world.

And I’m praying that Americans—regardless of political party—will stop allowing politicians to convince us that we have to hate one another in order to love our country.

We can do better.

America can and must do better.

And I still believe there is hope.

God, give us leaders with wisdom, humility, courage, integrity, and a genuine heart for the people they serve. And give us the courage to demand nothing less. Amen. ~OC

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The Most Important Parks of the Bible Don’t Have a Comma

Sometimes the most important parts of the Bible are the simplest.

Love God.
Love your neighbor.

And maybe we have spent far too much time trying to add a comma where Jesus never put one.

Love your neighbor, unless…

Unless they look different than you.

Unless they come from another country.

Unless they speak another language.

Unless they worship differently.

Unless they vote differently.

Unless they don’t believe what you believe.

Unless they have a different political party attached to their name.

Unless they are poor.

Unless they are struggling.

Unless they have made mistakes.

Unless they don’t fit neatly into your definition of who deserves love.

But Jesus didn’t give us a list of exceptions.

When Jesus was asked which commandment was the greatest, He pointed us toward loving God and loving our neighbor. And when someone tried to narrow down exactly who qualified as a neighbor, Jesus responded with the story of the Good Samaritan.

That wasn’t an accident.

The Samaritan was someone the religious people of Jesus’ day would have been tempted to look down upon. Yet Jesus made him the example of what loving a neighbor looks like.

That’s uncomfortable.

Because Jesus wasn’t asking us to love only the people who are easy to love.

He was asking us to love people.

Period.

Our neighbor isn’t defined by race, nationality, political party, socioeconomic status, immigration status, denomination, neighborhood, or whether they agree with us.

Our neighbor is our neighbor.

There is no comma.

There is no footnote.

There is no hidden exception clause.

And maybe that’s one of the greatest challenges facing the Church today.

We have become incredibly good at identifying who is different from us and incredibly comfortable deciding who deserves our compassion.

But Jesus keeps pulling us back to something much simpler:

Love.

Feed the hungry.

Welcome the stranger.

Care for the sick.

Defend the vulnerable.

Visit the lonely.

Help the hurting.

Forgive.

Show mercy.

And love your neighbor.

Not because they earned it.

Not because they agree with you.

Not because they look like you.

Not because they vote like you.

But because they bear the image of God.

So maybe before we ask, “Who is my neighbor?”

We should ask:

“Am I willing to love the neighbor Jesus has placed in front of me?”

Because the command isn’t:

Love your neighbor, unless…

It’s simply:

Love your neighbor.

No comma.

No conditions.

No exceptions.

Just Jesus.

And if we truly want to change the world, maybe we start by loving the person standing right in front of us.

Love God. Love people. Be the hands and feet of Jesus.

That’s the Gospel without the comma. ~OC

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What News Are Your Feet Bringing?

In the New Testament, there is a section of the book of Romans traditionally understood as a letter written by the apostle Paul to followers of Jesus gathered in house churches in first-century Rome.

Paul is talking about the importance of sharing the Gospel—the “good news.” And near the end of this section, he quotes the Old Testament prophet Isaiah:

And how are they to preach unless they are sent? As it is written, “How beautiful are the feet of those who preach the good news!” ~Romans 10:15

Think about that for a moment.

How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news.

What a beautiful picture.

Paul wasn’t talking about beautiful shoes. He wasn’t talking about polished feet or perfect appearances. He was talking about people who carry good news with them wherever they go.

And I wonder:

What kind of news are my feet bringing?

What happens when I walk into a room?

What happens when I sit down beside someone who is hurting?

What happens when I encounter someone who sees the world differently than I do?

What happens when I open my phone and start typing?

Because our feet don’t just take us from one physical location to another.

In a very real sense, we carry something with us.

We carry our words.

We carry our attitudes.

We carry our encouragement—or our discouragement.

We carry compassion—or judgment.

We carry hope—or fear.

And today, we carry all of that into the world through our social-media feeds.

We live in an age where bad news is available 24 hours a day.

Another alarming headline.

Another disturbing video.

Another political argument.

Another tragedy.

Another outrage.

Another reason to be angry.

Another reason to be afraid.

Another reason to divide ourselves into “us” and “them.”

And yes, we should pay attention to what is happening in the world. Ignoring suffering doesn’t make it disappear. We should care about injustice. We should care about our communities. We should care about people who are hurting.

But there is something else we should remember:

We are not powerless.

Take away the trending stories.

Take away the alarming updates.

Take away the endless arguments.

Take away the disturbing realities that fill our screens.

We are still sentient human beings with choices to make.

We still have time.

We still have resources.

We still have energy.

We still have words.

We still have opportunities.

We still have people around us who need someone to remind them that they matter.

And we still get to decide what kind of news our feet bring.

Maybe the good news today is a phone call to someone who feels forgotten.

Maybe it’s buying groceries for a neighbor who is struggling.

Maybe it’s sitting quietly with someone who doesn’t need an answer—they just need someone to stay.

Maybe it’s forgiving someone.

Maybe it’s listening before responding.

Maybe it’s choosing not to share that inflammatory post.

Maybe it’s encouraging someone who is ready to give up.

Maybe it’s welcoming the person everyone else has overlooked.

Maybe it’s being kind to the cashier, the server, the stranger, the immigrant, the lonely neighbor, the person sitting alone at church, or the person who doesn’t believe what you believe.

Maybe the good news isn’t something we post.

Maybe it’s something we become.

Our world doesn’t need more people adding gasoline to every fire.

It needs people willing to carry water.

It needs people willing to walk into difficult places and bring compassion.

It needs people willing to speak truth without losing love.

It needs people willing to disagree without dehumanizing.

It needs people who can look at the person in front of them and remember:

There is a human being here.

And for those of us who follow Jesus, perhaps this is part of what it means to live out the Gospel.

Not merely talking about good news.

Bringing good news.

Not merely posting Scripture.

Living Scripture.

Not merely telling people that God loves them.

Showing them what love looks like.

Romans 10:15 asks us to imagine beautiful feet—the feet of people who carry good news into the world.

So before we ask what the world is bringing to us today, perhaps we should ask a different question:

What are we bringing to the world?

What news will our feet carry into our homes?

What news will they carry into our workplaces?

What news will they carry into our churches?

What news will they carry into our neighborhoods?

And what news will they carry onto our social-media pages?

We may not be able to control every headline.

We may not be able to fix every problem.

We may not be able to change the entire world.

But we can choose what we carry into the little corner of the world where God has placed us today.

So go.

Walk into someone’s darkness carrying a little light.

Walk into someone’s loneliness carrying companionship.

Walk into someone’s fear carrying courage.

Walk into someone’s grief carrying presence.

Walk into someone’s anger carrying peace.

Walk into someone’s hopelessness carrying hope.

And if you follow Jesus, carry His love with you.

Because perhaps the question isn’t simply whether our feet are beautiful.

Perhaps the real question is:

What kind of news are our feet carrying?

May our feet carry good news.

May our words carry grace.

May our hands carry compassion.

May our lives carry hope.

And may the people we encounter today be able to say:

“I am glad you showed up.” ~OC

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When The Argument Runs Out…

Today’s a new day!

Watch what happens when a political party has nothing left to stand on.

The conversation changes.

Facts become insults.
Debate becomes name-calling.
Ideas are replaced with attacks.
Leadership becomes fear.
And when persuasion isn’t enough, suddenly there are promises, favors, and bribes designed to buy your loyalty instead of earning your trust.

That’s not leadership.

And here’s the uncomfortable truth:

If your position is strong, you don’t need to destroy the person who disagrees with you.

You should be able to defend your ideas without calling someone stupid.

You should be able to debate without demonizing.

You should be able to disagree without treating your neighbor like an enemy.

And you should never have to buy someone’s vote to convince them your ideas are worth believing in.

I don’t care what letter is beside your name—D, R, or anything else.

Hold them ALL accountable.

Don’t worship a party.
Don’t surrender your conscience to a politician.
Don’t let fear manipulate you.
Don’t let anger become your identity.

Think. Question. Research. Listen. Then decide.

Because America doesn’t need more political tribalism.

We need people willing to stand on truth, integrity, character, and principle—even when doing so costs them something.

And as a Christian, my ultimate allegiance isn’t to a political party, politician, ideology, or government.

My allegiance belongs to Jesus Christ.

So I’m going to love my neighbor—even when we disagree.

I’m going to speak truth—even when it’s uncomfortable.

And I’m going to refuse to be manipulated by insults, fear, division, or political bribery.

Don’t let a political party tell you who to hate.
Don’t let a politician buy your loyalty.
And don’t surrender your God-given ability to think for yourself.

Stand on truth.
Stand on principle.
Stand on Christ.

Everything else is temporary. ~OC

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Prayer

Dear Lord,

We come before You in the mighty name of Jesus, believing in the power of Your Holy Spirit. Holy Spirit, fall fresh upon us. Move through every place that is broken, wounded, weary, and hurting.

Bring healing where doctors cannot reach. Bring strength where weakness has taken hold. Bring peace where fear has settled. Bring restoration where the enemy has brought destruction.

Lord, release Your healing power. Let faith rise above fear. Let hope rise above despair. Let Your presence fill every room, every hospital bed, every home, and every heart that is crying out to You.

We believe You are still the God who heals, restores, renews, and makes all things new. Nothing is too difficult for You. Nothing is beyond Your reach.

Holy Spirit, have Your way. Bring healing. Bring restoration. Bring life.

We surrender every outcome to You and trust Your perfect will, knowing that Your power is greater than our circumstances.

In the powerful, healing, and victorious name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

~OC

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Men Stand Up

MEN, WE NEED TO TALK.

Not about politics.

Not about sports.

Not about money.

Not about who is right and who is wrong.

We need to talk about what happened to the men of God.

Because somewhere along the way, too many of us became comfortable sitting in the church while our families, our neighborhoods, and our communities were crying out for men who would actually stand up and lead.

We have plenty of men who can talk.

Plenty who can argue.

Plenty who can criticize.

Plenty who can tell everyone else what they’re doing wrong.

But God isn’t looking for more men who can point fingers.

God is looking for men who will get on their knees.

Men who will pray.

Men who will serve.

Men who will sacrifice.

Men who will give.

Men who will love.

Men who will stand in the gap.

Men who will say, “As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.”

Paul wrote:

“Be watchful, stand firm in the faith, act like men, be strong. Let all that you do be done in love.” ~1 Corinthians 16:13-14

Read that again.

Be courageous.

Be strong.

But don’t miss the last part:

Do everything in love.

Because biblical manhood isn’t about domination.

It’s not about control.

It’s not about being the loudest voice in the room.

It’s not about demanding respect.

It’s about becoming the kind of man who looks like Jesus.

Jesus picked up a towel.

Jesus washed feet.

Jesus touched the untouchable.

Jesus welcomed the rejected.

Jesus fed the hungry.

Jesus defended the vulnerable.

Jesus wept with those who were hurting.

Jesus prayed.

Jesus served.

Jesus sacrificed.

And ultimately…

Jesus laid down His life.

So if we want to be men of God, maybe we should stop asking,

“Who is going to serve me?”

and start asking,

“Who can I serve?”

Maybe it’s time for us to put down our pride and pick up the towel.

Put down our excuses and pick up our Bibles.

Put down our anger and pick up our cross.

Put down our phones and look our children in the eyes.

Put down our criticism and start praying for the people we’re so quick to criticize.

Men, our families need us.

Our wives need husbands who pray.

Our children need fathers who are present.

Our sons need men who will show them that strength isn’t about how much power you have, but how much of yourself you’re willing to give away.

Our daughters need to see what a godly man looks like.

Our churches need men who don’t just occupy a chair on Sunday but carry the burden of the Kingdom Monday through Saturday.

Our communities need men who will stop driving past brokenness and start walking toward it.

There are people all around us who are hurting.

People battling addiction.

People drowning in loneliness.

People wondering if anybody cares.

People who haven’t stepped inside a church in years because somewhere along the way, Christians made them feel like they weren’t welcome.

Men, what if we became different?

What if we became the men who showed up?

What if we became the men who prayed?

What if we became the men who served without needing recognition?

What if we became the men who gave without expecting something in return?

What if we became the men who loved people who could never repay us?

What if we stopped trying to build our own kingdoms…

and started building His?

I’m praying for something bigger than another men’s conference.

Bigger than another Bible study.

Bigger than another church program.

I’m praying for revival in the hearts of men.

I want to see men so completely consumed by Jesus that their families can’t help but notice.

I want to see fathers praying over their children.

Husbands praying with their wives.

Men opening their Bibles before they open social media.

Men serving the homeless.

Men feeding the hungry.

Men visiting the sick.

Men mentoring young men who desperately need somebody to tell them,

“You matter. You’re loved. You were created for something greater.”

I want to see men walk into the darkest places carrying the light of Christ.

I want to see men who aren’t ashamed to worship.

Men who aren’t afraid to cry.

Men who aren’t afraid to say, “I don’t have it all together.”

Men who aren’t afraid to get on their knees and cry out,

“Jesus, change me before You use me.”

Because maybe that’s where revival begins.

Not with a crowd.

With a man.

One broken man surrendering.

One father praying.

One husband repenting.

One son coming home.

One man saying,

“Jesus, I am Yours.”

And then another man catches fire.

And another.

And another.

And suddenly…

THE FIRE SPREADS.

It moves through families.

Through churches.

Through neighborhoods.

Through communities.

Until an entire city begins to feel the presence of God.

Not because men became louder.

But because men became different.

Not because men demanded their rights.

But because men started laying down their lives.

Not because men conquered people.

But because men started loving people.

I want to see men set on fire for Jesus.

And I don’t mean a temporary emotional high.

I mean HOLY FIRE.

The kind of fire that changes the way we live.

The kind of fire that changes the way we speak.

The kind of fire that changes our marriages.

The kind of fire that changes our parenting.

The kind of fire that changes how we treat strangers.

The kind of fire that makes us uncomfortable when we’re sitting still while somebody else is hurting.

Men, I’m calling us higher.

Higher than comfort.

Higher than complacency.

Higher than excuses.

Higher than church-as-usual.

Higher than cultural Christianity.

I’m calling us to Jesus.

To surrender.

To sacrifice.

To service.

To prayer.

To courage.

To holiness.

To love.

Because our communities don’t need more men pretending to have all the answers.

They need men who know where to take their questions.

To the feet of Jesus.

So tonight, before you criticize another man…

pray for him.

Before you complain about your church…

serve it.

Before you complain about your community…

love it.

Before you tell the world what’s wrong with Christianity…

show them Jesus.

And before you demand that everyone else change…

get alone with God and ask Him to change you.

Because revival may be closer than we think.

Maybe God isn’t waiting for the perfect man.

Maybe He’s waiting for the surrendered man.

The available man.

The obedient man.

The man who will say:

“Here I am, Lord. Send me.”

So, men…

Are you willing?

Are you willing to lead when nobody applauds?

Are you willing to serve when nobody notices?

Are you willing to give when it costs you something?

Are you willing to pray when you’re tired?

Are you willing to love when it’s difficult?

Are you willing to forgive?

Are you willing to repent?

Are you willing to surrender your pride?

Are you willing to pick up your cross?

Are you willing to follow Jesus even when it costs you everything?

Because here’s the question I can’t get out of my head:

If your family became exactly like the Christian life you are living right now…

would you be proud of what they became?

Let that sit there for a minute.

Don’t scroll.

Don’t defend yourself.

Don’t think about the man sitting next to you.

Think about you.

Look in the mirror.

Look at your Bible.

Look at your family.

Look at your community.

Look at your life.

And ask yourself the question that may be the most important question a man can ever ask:

AM I REALLY THE MAN GOD HAS CALLED ME TO BE?

And if the answer is no…

Don’t run from that conviction.

Run toward Jesus.

Because He isn’t finished with you.

Men, let’s rise.

Let’s pray.

Let’s serve.

Let’s give.

Let’s love.

Let’s lead.

Let’s surrender.

Let’s become the men our families need, our churches need, our communities need—and most importantly, the men Jesus has called us to be.

One man.

One surrendered heart.

One family.

One church.

One neighborhood.

One city.

Until the fire spreads.

MEN, IT’S TIME.

Let’s set your city’s on fire—not with our anger, not with our politics, not with our pride…

but with the radical, reckless, transforming LOVE OF JESUS CHRIST.

In Jesus’ name, Amen. ~OC

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Mud, Spit and the American Church

Today’s a new day!

I grew up in a different generation.

We played in the dirt until the streetlights came on. We climbed trees, rode our bikes without helmets, scraped our knees, and somehow survived. We came home covered in mud, sweat, and stories.

If you had something on your face, chances are your mom or grandma would lick her thumb or use a little spit to wipe it away before anyone else noticed. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was an act of love. Nobody thought twice about it.

It was a simpler time.

I also grew up in churches where pastors weren’t trying to become celebrities. They weren’t worried about likes, followers, or building a personal brand. They opened the Bible, preached the truth, called people to repentance, and pointed everyone to Jesus. Sometimes the sermons made you uncomfortable. Sometimes they stepped on your toes. But you left knowing you had encountered God’s Word, not just another motivational speech.

Today, so much has changed.

Many children rarely play outside. Screens have replaced backyards. Adventure has been traded for entertainment.

Many parents would never imagine using spit to clean a child’s face. We’ve become increasingly concerned with appearances, convenience, and comfort.

And sadly, much of the American Church has changed too.

Far too many pulpits have exchanged the Gospel for self-improvement.

Messages about sin have been replaced with messages about success. Repentance has been replaced with positive thinking. The cross has been overshadowed by personal branding. 

Instead of shepherds feeding the flock, many churches have become stages where personalities perform.

People leave feeling inspired—but not transformed.

Yet when I read Scripture, I find something fascinating.

Jesus wasn’t afraid of mud.

In fact, one of His miracles involved making mud with His own saliva.

He spit on the ground, mixed the dirt into mud, placed it on a blind man’s eyes, and told him to go wash. When the man obeyed, he came back seeing.

Think about that for a moment.

The Creator of the universe could have simply spoken a word.

Instead, He chose mud.

He chose spit.

Something ordinary.

Something people might even consider offensive.

Because God has always been in the business of using unlikely things to display His glory.

The Gospel itself is offensive to human pride.

It tells us we cannot save ourselves.

It tells us we must die to ourselves.

It tells us that forgiveness came through a bloody cross.

None of that fits neatly into today’s culture of comfort and self-esteem.

But it is still the power of God.

The American Church doesn’t need better marketing.

It doesn’t need cooler stages.

It doesn’t need more polished personalities.

It needs pastors who love truth more than applause.

It needs believers who desire holiness more than popularity.

It needs people who are willing to get their hands dirty serving others instead of polishing their own image.

Maybe we’ve become so obsessed with looking clean that we’ve forgotten the One who still isn’t afraid to kneel in the dirt.

Jesus still meets broken people.

He still restores blind eyes.

He still heals wounded hearts.

He still calls sinners to Himself.

The method may not always look impressive.

The process may not always be comfortable.

But His power hasn’t changed.

Perhaps it’s time for the Church to stop trying to impress the culture and start looking more like Christ again.

Maybe what we need isn’t another life coach with a Bible verse.

Maybe we need shepherds who will faithfully preach the whole counsel of God-even when it’s unpopular. 

Maybe we need believers who aren’t afraid of a little mud if it means someone finally sees Jesus. 

Because sometimes, God still chooses mud.

Sometimes, He still uses spit. 

And He has always used ordinary people surrendered to an extraordinary Savior. 

Lord, may Your Church once again become known—not for its polish, but for its faithfulness. Give us courage to speak truth with love, humility to serve without recognition, and hearts that care more about Your glory than our comfort. Amen. ~OC

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Grit, Faith and Determination

Today’s a new day!

Some battles don’t come with warning.

They arrive quietly—or sometimes all at once—and suddenly you find yourself standing in the middle of something you never expected to face.

I’m in one of those seasons right now.

But here’s what I’ve learned: a tough battle doesn’t have to steal your hope.

I’m choosing to stay positive. I’m choosing to keep moving forward. And I’m choosing to lean—not because I am weak, but because I understand that none of us were created to walk through the hardest seasons of life alone.

I am incredibly grateful for my family and friends who continue to stand beside me.

Your prayers, messages, encouragement, phone calls, hugs, and simple reminders that you’re there mean more than I can put into words. Sometimes you may think you’re just sending a quick message or saying a quick prayer, but to someone in the middle of a difficult battle, those little things can become lifelines.

Your support means the world to me.

There will be difficult days. There will be moments when the road ahead looks intimidating. There may even be times when I have to take things one day—or one moment—at a time.

But I refuse to let the battle define me.

I want my response to adversity to be defined by grit, faith, courage, and determination.

Grit says, Keep going.

Faith says, God is still here.

Determination says, I’m not finished.

And love reminds me that I’m not walking this road alone.

I don’t know exactly what tomorrow will bring. But I know I don’t have to face tomorrow by myself.

So, to my family, my friends, my prayer warriors, and everyone who has taken the time to encourage me:

Thank you.

Thank you for believing in me when the battle gets heavy.

Thank you for standing beside me when I’m tired.

Thank you for praying when I don’t have the words.

Thank you for reminding me that there is still something worth fighting for.

And most importantly, thank you for walking beside me.

This is not about pretending everything is easy.

It’s about facing what is difficult without surrendering our hope.

It’s about acknowledging the battle while refusing to give the battle the final word.

So here we go.

One day at a time.

One prayer at a time.

One step at a time.

With grit.
With faith.
With determination.
And with a whole lot of love surrounding us.

The battle may be tough.

But I’m tougher than the battle.

And with God, family, friends, and an army of people standing beside me, we’re going to face this together.

Let’s tackle it.

Not with fear.

Not with surrender.

But with grit, faith, and determination.

And whatever tomorrow brings, we’ll meet it together. ~OC

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Face Fear. Find Freedom.

Fear may whisper,
“Turn around, don’t go.”
But faith says,
“Take the step—
there’s freedom where you go.”

Face the darkness,
walk through the pain,
trust that the storm
won’t always remain.

For courage begins
when fear loses control—
sometimes you must face fear
to set free your soul. ~OC

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