Tag: Choice

More Than Mortality: A Call To Live Well

Today’s a New Day!

There’s a question that tends to follow me these days as I walk through this health journey: “Do you think about your mortality?” And the honest answer is yes—but probably not in the way people expect. Because the truth is, this isn’t just my reality; it’s everyone’s. Whether we acknowledge it or not, every one of us is living on borrowed time. None of us know when our final breath will come. We make plans, we chase goals, we assume tomorrow is waiting—but that’s never a guarantee. And maybe that’s not meant to scare us, but to wake us up.

Instead of obsessing over when the clock might run out, I’ve started asking a different question: what am I doing with the time I have right now? Am I using it in a way that matters? Am I choosing love over division, compassion over judgment, action over apathy? It’s easy to get caught up in labels—who people vote for, how they live, what they believe—but none of those things will matter as much as how we treated one another. At the end of the day, our legacy won’t be built on opinions shouted the loudest, but on kindness lived out the longest.

Time is a gift, even on the hardest days. Especially on the hardest days. And maybe the real challenge isn’t figuring out how much time we have left, but deciding what kind of impact we want to leave behind. Are we lifting people up? Are we showing grace where it’s least expected? Are we making someone’s load a little lighter? Those are the questions worth wrestling with.

Because when the clock does finally run out—and it will for all of us—it won’t be about how long we lived, but how well we loved. ~OC

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We Need More Mr. Rogers’

Today’s a new day!

There was something quietly powerful about Fred Rogers. He didn’t need to raise his voice to be heard, didn’t rely on insults to make a point, and never tried to win by tearing someone else down. In a world that often feels louder, harsher, and quicker to judge, his gentle way of speaking truth with kindness stands out more than ever. The neighborhoods he built on Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood weren’t just for children—they were a blueprint for how we might treat one another as adults. He reminded us that every person has value, that feelings are worth acknowledging, and that kindness is not weakness—it’s strength under control.

Contrast that with the culture we often see today, where bullying has been repackaged as confidence and cruelty gets disguised as honesty. Whether it shows up in schools, online spaces, or even public leadership, the tone can feel more like a battleground than a community. But the truth is, tearing people down has never built anything lasting. The world doesn’t need more voices shouting over each other—it needs more people willing to listen, to care, and to choose empathy over ego. Imagine what would happen if we measured success not by how many people we outshine, but by how many we lift up.

Maybe the call is simpler than we think. Be a little more patient. Speak a little more gently. Choose to understand before reacting. Those aren’t outdated ideals—they’re desperately needed ones. The legacy of Fred Rogers isn’t just something to admire from a distance; it’s something to live out in small, daily decisions. Because in the end, the world changes not through louder arguments, but through quieter acts of love. ~OC

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More Than A Trinket

Today’s a new day! 

There’s something almost nostalgic about opening a box of Cracker Jack. You don’t just pour it into a bowl—you reach down, past the caramel-coated popcorn and peanuts, searching for the prize hidden at the bottom. As kids, that little toy felt like everything. It was the reason you kept digging, the reward you were waiting for.

But if we’re honest, those prizes rarely lived up to the expectation. They were small, temporary, and often forgotten within minutes. The excitement faded as quickly as it came.

Sometimes, we treat the Gospel the same way.

We approach God like He’s the prize at the bottom of the box—something extra, something we “get” after we’ve worked our way through life. We chase blessings, breakthroughs, and answered prayers like they’re the real reward, while Jesus becomes the add-on.

But the Gospel flips that idea upside down.

Jesus isn’t the toy hidden beneath everything else—He is the treasure itself.

The Gospel isn’t about digging through life to earn something small and temporary. It’s about receiving something eternal right now. There’s no gimmick, no cheap prize, no fleeting satisfaction. Instead, we’re given grace that doesn’t wear out, love that doesn’t fade, and salvation that doesn’t break.

Where the world offers trinkets, God offers transformation.


Where life hands out temporary pleasures, Jesus gives eternal purpose.

“And where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” (Matthew 6:21)

The question is—what are we really reaching for?

Are we chasing the “toys” of success, approval, or comfort? Or are we holding onto the true treasure—the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ?

Because unlike that Cracker Jack prize, the Gospel will never disappoint. It doesn’t lose its value. It doesn’t break. It doesn’t get tossed aside.

It changes everything.

And the best part? You don’t have to dig for it.

It’s already been given. ~OC

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The Gospel According to Krispy Kreme

Today’s a new day! This morning I share about two amazing things. Krispy Kreme Doughnuts and the Gospel of Jesus Christ. One brings sweet and temporary comfort, while the other brings peace and eternal life. This is The Gospel According To Krispy Kreme. 

There’s something almost sacred about the glow of that “Hot Now” sign. If you’ve ever pulled into the parking lot at just the right moment, you know the feeling—anticipation, excitement, and the promise of something warm, fresh, and satisfying. It’s not just a donut; it’s an experience. And strangely enough, it can teach us something about the Gospel.

The Gospel—the good news of Jesus Christ—isn’t complicated, but we often make it that way. We pile on expectations, rules, and performance, forgetting the simplicity of grace. But step into a donut shop, and suddenly the message becomes clearer.

First, you don’t have to earn the donut. You don’t walk in and prove yourself worthy. You don’t show a list of accomplishments or try to impress the cashier. You simply receive. In the same way, the Gospel reminds us that salvation isn’t something we achieve—it’s something we accept. “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God” (Ephesians 2:8).

Second, the donut is best when it’s fresh. There’s a noticeable difference between one that’s hot off the line and one that’s been sitting around. Spiritually, many of us try to live off yesterday’s encounter with God. We rely on old prayers, past experiences, and distant memories of His presence. But God invites us into something fresh every day. His mercies are new every morning (Lamentations 3:23), and His presence is available right now—not just in the past.

Third, the glaze covers everything. That warm glaze doesn’t miss a spot—it flows over the entire donut, filling in cracks and imperfections. That’s a picture of God’s grace. When Jesus covers us, He doesn’t do it halfway. He doesn’t leave parts of us exposed or unredeemed. His love and forgiveness are complete. Where sin abounds, grace abounds even more (Romans 5:20).

But here’s where the analogy challenges us: donuts aren’t meant to just be admired—they’re meant to be shared. Nobody buys a dozen and hides them forever (at least, not for long). The joy increases when others are invited in. The Gospel is the same way. It’s not something we hoard; it’s something we live out and give away. Love, kindness, forgiveness—these are meant to overflow into the lives of others.

Finally, there’s the invitation. That glowing sign doesn’t discriminate. It doesn’t say, “Hot Now—for the deserving only.” It’s open to anyone who walks through the door. That’s the heart of God. Jesus said, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28). No prerequisites. No perfect record required. Just come.

So maybe next time you see that “Hot Now” sign, let it remind you of something deeper. The Gospel is warm, inviting, and freely given. It meets us where we are, covers us in grace, and calls us into something fresh and life-giving.

The question is simple: will you receive it—and will you share it? ~OC

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Stay Rooted

Today’s a new day!

Be careful who you listen to and trust—this simple truth carries deep spiritual weight. In a world full of voices, opinions, and influences, not everything that looks good is good for you. Just as salt and sugar can appear nearly identical at a glance, what we hear can sound sweet, wise, or convincing while actually leading us away from truth. The Bible reminds us to test every spirit and to seek discernment, because deception rarely announces itself boldly—it often comes dressed in familiarity and comfort. If we are not grounded in God’s Word, we can easily mistake something harmful for something helpful.

Trust is a precious gift, and it should not be given lightly. As believers, we are called to anchor our trust in God first, allowing His truth to shape how we evaluate everything else. When we rely solely on human wisdom without seeking divine guidance, we risk being misled. Just as consuming salt when expecting sugar would leave a bitter taste, following the wrong voices can leave us spiritually drained and confused. Stay rooted in prayer, immerse yourself in Scripture, and ask God for wisdom to discern what is truly good. Not everything that looks right is right—but God’s truth will never lead you astray. ~OC

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No Authority

Today’s a new day!

Fear is a powerful emotion, but as a believer, it does not have authority over your life. Scripture reminds us time and time again that God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, love, and a sound mind. When fear tries to creep in—whether it’s fear of the unknown, fear of failure, or fear of loss—you can stand firm knowing that it does not come from God. Instead, it is something you are called to resist through faith. God’s presence in your life is greater than any anxiety that tries to take hold, and His promises are unshakable even when your circumstances feel uncertain.

Walking in freedom from fear requires trust. It means choosing to believe God’s truth over your feelings. Fear may speak loudly, but it does not have the final say—God does. When you anchor your heart in His Word, you begin to see that fear loses its grip. You are not defined by your worries or limited by your doubts; you are defined by who God says you are: chosen, loved, and secure in Him. As you continue to lean into His presence, you’ll find that courage rises, peace settles in, and fear fades into the background where it belongs—powerless and without authority over your life. ~OC

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Words Matter

How can you call yourself a leader and use such foul language? Words matter. They reveal what is in the heart, and they shape the tone of entire communities. When those who claim to lead—especially in spaces that influence people of faith—speak with harshness, vulgarity, or cruelty, it creates confusion and disillusionment. How can Christians support such rhetoric like it’s acceptable or even admirable? This tension is deeply troubling, because it sends a message that character is secondary to power, and that witness can be compromised for the sake of loyalty or influence.

This is why I can never call myself an evangelical Christian. The phrase, once rooted in the proclamation of good news, is sadly an embarrassment to God since it has become associated with behavior that contradicts Christ’s teachings. Jesus modeled humility, compassion, and truth spoken in love—not insults, not degradation, not prideful speech. 

How can a lost world look to the Christian community for help, for hope, for love, when so many within it appear to endorse language and attitudes that push people away rather than draw them in? If we are to reflect Christ, then our words must align with His heart, and our witness must be one that invites, heals, and restores rather than divides and wounds. ~OC

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Compromise For A Seat?

Today’s a new day! 

Dear Christian community, I believe it’s worth pausing to ask a difficult question: Is selling out your beliefs and character really worth it just to have a seat at the political table? In a culture that constantly pressures people to compromise for influence, relevance, or approval, the temptation is real. The promise is that if you soften your convictions or remain silent on difficult truths, you’ll gain access—more platforms, more recognition, more opportunities to be heard. But if the cost of that seat is your integrity, then the price is far higher than it first appears. A seat gained through compromise may look like influence, but it often becomes a quiet surrender of the very message that once made your voice meaningful. 

Historically, the Christian faith has never thrived because it blended comfortably with the surrounding culture. It grew because people were willing to stand firmly—even when it meant exclusion, criticism, or loss. When believers trade conviction for acceptance, the world may welcome them for a moment, but the power of their witness fades. Influence that requires silence about truth is not influence at all. The question is not whether Christians will have a seat at every table, but whether they will remain faithful to the One they claim to follow. 

Perhaps the better calling is this: rather than compromising to sit at someone else’s table, Christians should focus on living with such integrity, courage, and love that they build tables of their own—places where truth and grace can exist together without apology. Faithfulness may not always be popular, but it has always been the path that shapes character and leaves a lasting legacy. In the end, a clear conscience before God is worth far more than a temporary seat among people. ~OC

You can check out the Spoken Word version of this post at my YouTube channel Todd E. Shoemaker Music.

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Comfortable, But Miserable

Today’s a new day! We are living in one of the easiest eras in human history. With a few taps on a screen, we can access more information than entire generations before us could gather in a lifetime. We enjoy conveniences that kings and queens once could not imagine—climate-controlled homes, instant communication, endless entertainment, and medical advancements that have extended life expectancy across the globe. In many parts of the world, particularly here in the United States, comfort and accessibility are woven into daily life. Yet despite all this ease, anxiety, depression, burnout, and emotional exhaustion are rising at alarming rates. We are informed, connected, and comfortable—yet deeply weary.

This contrast reveals a spiritual truth: comfort does not equal peace. Information does not equal wisdom. And constant connectivity does not equal true community. Scripture reminds us in Ecclesiastes that “the more knowledge increases, the more sorrow increases.” We are bombarded with news, opinions, crises, and comparisons every single day. Social media invites us to measure our lives against curated highlights. Work follows us home through emails and notifications. Our souls were not designed to carry the weight of the entire world’s problems at once.

Jesus offers a different way. In Matthew 11:28, He says, “Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” Notice that He does not promise more information, more productivity, or more control. He promises rest. True rest is not found in better algorithms or more efficient schedules—it is found in surrender. It is found in laying our anxious thoughts before God and trusting that He is sovereign even when the world feels overwhelming.

Perhaps the reason mental health struggles are at an all-time high in the most comfortable age is because we have tried to replace dependence on God with dependence on convenience. Comfort can numb us, but it cannot heal us. Technology can connect us, but it cannot restore our souls. Only Christ can do that. As believers, we are invited to slow down, to unplug, to pray, and to remember that our worth is not measured by productivity or performance but by the unchanging love of God.

In the easiest of times, may we choose the deeper path. May we seek not just comfort, but communion. Not just information, but transformation. And may we find that even in an anxious age, the peace of Christ is still available—steady, unshaken, and freely given. ~OC

***Check out the Spoken Word version of this post at my YouTube channel Todd E. Shoemaker Music.

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Even In The ICU

As I sit here in ICU, my body is struggling. It’s tired from such a long battle. Every breath feels heavier than it used to. The steady rhythm of the beeping machines reminds me just how fragile this earthly body can be. And yet, in the middle of all of it, I feel a peace — a peace that surpasses all understanding, like the kind described in Philippians 4:6–7. 

My journey doesn’t make sense by human standards. Circumstances say fear. The monitors say concern. The weakness says exhaustion. But my spirit says peace. Jesus is here in this room, and that changes everything.

I do not totally understand why God chose me to walk this crazy, beautiful health journey… but He did. And because He did, I can trust that He has purpose in it. In my weakness, I turn to Him for strength. In my uncertainty, I turn to Him for guidance. If He can use these words written from an ICU bed to encourage even one person, then it’s worth it. 

My desire is simply to be a humble servant. I don’t crave a platform. I have no desire to be a social influencer. I’m not chasing fame or recognition. My only desire is to serve Jesus and to love and serve others well. If that service happens from a hospital room in Intensive Care, then I humbly accept the assignment. 

Whether standing on a stage or lying in a hospital bed, my calling remains the same: to reflect His love. This body may be weary, but my spirit is willing. And as long as there is breath in my lungs, I will continue to point people to the One who gives true hope and peace — even in the ICU. ~OC

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