Tag: Compassion

Blowin’ In The Wind

How many times must we watch the world suffer before we finally decide to do something about it?

How many wars must be fought, how many children must go hungry, how many innocent lives must be lost, and how many voices must cry out for justice before we stop pretending that nothing is wrong?

We live in a world overflowing with opinions but starving for compassion. We argue about politics, fight over differences, draw lines in the sand, and forget that beneath it all, we are human beings sharing the same fragile planet.

We have the technology to reach across the world in seconds, yet sometimes we cannot reach across the street to love our neighbors. We have the resources to change lives, yet we continue to turn away from those who need us most.

Maybe the answers aren’t blowing in the wind. Maybe they’re standing right in front of us.

Perhaps the real question isn’t how many times we must see injustice, but how many times we are willing to walk past it.

Perhaps it’s not how long we must wait for peace, but when we will finally stop choosing hatred over understanding.

And perhaps the greatest tragedy isn’t that we don’t know what needs to change, but that we keep waiting for someone else to change it.

We cannot solve every problem. We cannot stop every war. We cannot heal every broken heart. But we can choose compassion over cruelty, kindness over hatred, understanding over judgment, and courage over silence.

We can stand up for those who have no voice. We can love people who disagree with us. We can refuse to let political divisions destroy our humanity.

The world doesn’t need more people pointing fingers. It needs more people willing to extend a helping hand.

So, the next time you wonder how much longer it will take for the world to change, ask yourself a different question:

What am I doing to make it better?

Because peace begins with us. Justice begins with us. Love begins with us.

And if we keep waiting for somebody else to make a difference, we may spend our entire lives waiting for answers that were always within our reach.

The wind will keep blowing. The questions will keep coming.

The question is whether we will finally have the courage to become part of the answer. ~OC

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What Happened To America?

Let me ask a question that should trouble every American, regardless of political party: What happened to our hearts when attacking a survivor of childhood rape became something politicians could do and still receive applause and support from other politicians and voters?

Think about that for a moment. Someone who survived an unimaginable childhood trauma deserves compassion, dignity, and the freedom to tell their story without being publicly humiliated or ridiculed. No survivor should have to relive their pain because a politician wants to score political points.

When did cruelty become entertainment? When did compassion become a weakness? And when did political loyalty become more important than basic human decency?

We can disagree about policies. We can debate politics. We can support different candidates. That’s part of living in a democracy. But there should never be a political party, a candidate, or an ideology that matters more to us than the dignity of another human being.

And here’s the part that troubles me most: It’s not just about the politician making the attack. It’s also about the people who cheer, defend, excuse, or dismiss that behavior simply because the person doing it belongs to their political tribe.

If your political loyalty has reached the point where you can watch a survivor of childhood rape being attacked and see nothing wrong with it, perhaps it’s time to step away from the political noise and take an honest look in the mirror.

Check your heart.

Character matters. Compassion matters. How we treat the most vulnerable among us matters.

America doesn’t become great by humiliating survivors, celebrating cruelty, or excusing the inexcusable. It becomes stronger when we remember that every human being deserves dignity, regardless of their politics, background, or personal history.

I don’t care what political party you belong to. I care whether we’ve reached a point where we’ve lost our humanity in the name of winning elections.

Because if winning means abandoning compassion, sacrificing decency, and celebrating another person’s pain, then what exactly have we won?

America, we can—and must—do better.

Our politics should reflect our humanity, not destroy it. ~OC

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Why Am I Still Alive?

Today’s a new day!

Twenty-four years. Multiple diagnoses. Countless tests, treatments, surgeries, hospitalizations, and moments when the future looked anything but certain. And somehow, by the grace of God, I am still here.

Sometimes I sit back and ask myself a question that I don’t always know how to answer.

WHY AM I STILL ALIVE?

I’m not asking that question for attention. I’m not asking it because I want people to feel sorry for me. And I’m certainly not asking it because I believe I’m stronger than someone else who didn’t survive their battle.

I’m asking because, after everything my body has endured over the last twenty-four years, there are moments when I honestly don’t understand how I’m still standing.

I’ve lived with multiple life threatening health issues. I have experienced moments when my health has deteriorated so badly that living another day wasn’t something I could take for granted.

I’ve heard the medical predictions. I’ve faced the uncertainty. I’ve endured the pain, the exhaustion, and the frustration of watching my body struggle to do things that once came naturally.

I’ve experienced moments when speaking was difficult, when my body wouldn’t cooperate, and when the future seemed to be slipping away from me.

I’ve spent time in intensive care. I’ve faced hospitalizations when things didn’t look good. I’ve experienced the kind of physical suffering that is difficult to explain to someone who hasn’t walked a similar road.

And through it all, one question continues to follow me.

WHY HAS GOD ALLOWED ME TO LIVE WHEN SO MANY TIMES IT SEEMED LIKE MY STORY SHOULD HAVE ENDED?

I wish I had a simple answer.

I don’t.

But I know this: JESUS. ONLY JESUS.

I’m not claiming that I understand every medical explanation, every close call, or every reason I’ve survived. I’m not suggesting that faith means we never need doctors, medicine, treatments, or the hands of medical professionals. God has worked through many of those people and resources in my life, and I am grateful for them.

I’m also not going to pretend that every day is a victory lap.

Some days hurt. Some nights seem endless. There are moments when the exhaustion runs deeper than words can explain. There are things I miss about the life I once had, and there are battles I never imagined I would have to fight.

My faith doesn’t make me immune to fear, frustration, grief, or questions.

Faith simply gives me somewhere to take those things.

I take them to Jesus.

Sometimes my prayers are long and full of words. Other times, all I can manage is a whisper. And sometimes, when I don’t have the strength to say anything at all, I simply hold on to the truth that He is still there.

I have learned that you don’t have to understand everything God is doing to trust Him with your life.

You don’t have to feel strong to keep believing.

And you don’t have to pretend everything is okay to have genuine faith.

I’M STILL HERE, BUT I’M NOT GOING TO PRETEND I KNOW WHY.

People sometimes talk about surviving as though it automatically makes someone a hero. But I don’t see myself that way.

I’m a husband. I’m a son. I’m a friend. I’m a child of God.

I’m a man who has experienced more medical battles than he ever expected, a man who has had to learn how to live with a body that doesn’t always cooperate, and a man who still has questions about what tomorrow might bring.

I’m not alive because I figured out some secret to beating every illness.

I’m not alive because I never became afraid.

And I’m certainly not alive because I have somehow earned more of God’s favor than someone who lost their battle.

I am still here, and I am deeply grateful for every additional day I have been given.

I believe Jesus has carried me through moments when I didn’t have the strength to carry myself. I believe His presence has sustained me when the circumstances around me offered very little comfort. I believe there is still purpose in loving people, encouraging others, sharing my faith, and telling the truth about what it means to walk through suffering.

But I cannot tell you with certainty why my story continues while someone else’s ended.

I won’t pretend to know God’s complete plan.

What I can tell you is that my survival has made me more aware of how precious life is, how fragile our bodies can be, and how desperately we need grace.

I no longer want to waste my life chasing things that don’t matter.

I want to love my wife well. I want to encourage the brokenhearted. I want to stand beside people who feel forgotten. I want to remind those who are struggling that their diagnoses do not erase their dignity, their value, or their identity.

I want people to see Jesus in the way I live, not simply in the words I write.

If I have another twenty years, I want to use them well.

If I have twenty more days, I want to use them well.

And if tomorrow brings another medical battle, I pray I will face it with the same Savior who has sustained me through the battles behind me.

Because the number of days I have left is not something I can control.

What I do with the day I’ve been given is something I can choose.

JESUS NEVER PROMISED ME AN EASY ROAD.

One of the hardest lessons I’ve learned is that following Jesus doesn’t mean we get to skip suffering.

Faithful people get sick.

Faithful people experience pain.

Faithful people sit beside hospital beds, receive devastating diagnoses, and sometimes bury the people they prayed would be healed.

And sometimes, despite our most desperate prayers, the outcome isn’t what we hoped for.

I believe in miracles. I’ve experienced moments in my own journey that I can only describe as miraculous. I believe God can heal, restore, strengthen, and do things beyond our understanding.

But I also believe that Jesus is worthy of our trust when healing doesn’t come the way we prayed it would.

My faith cannot depend entirely on whether my body gets better.

If I make physical healing the only evidence of God’s goodness, what happens on the days when my symptoms worsen? What happens when another diagnosis arrives? What happens when I wake up hurting?

Does that mean God has abandoned me?

No.

My circumstances may change. My physical abilities may change. My future may look different from the one I imagined.

But my identity in Christ does not depend on the condition of my body.

Paul wrote in 2 Corinthians 12:9 that God’s grace is sufficient and that His power is made perfect in weakness.

That Scripture means something different to me now than it did before I became seriously ill.

I understand that weakness isn’t always something we overcome in the way we hoped. Sometimes weakness is something we learn to live with while discovering that God’s grace is still sufficient.

Sometimes overcoming means getting out of bed.

Sometimes it means enduring another treatment.

Sometimes it means asking for help when our pride tells us not to.

Sometimes it means crying, praying, and getting through one more difficult day.

And sometimes, overcoming simply means refusing to believe that our suffering has made our lives meaningless.

I AM STILL AN OVERCOMER, EVEN ON THE DAYS WHEN I FEEL OVERWHELMED.

Not because I always win the battles I fight, but because my identity is rooted in the One who holds me through them.

SO, WHY AM I STILL ALIVE?

After twenty-four years of health battles, I could give you a dozen answers.

Medical professionals have treated me. My wife, Laura, has stood beside me through more than most people could imagine. Family and friends have prayed for me. People have encouraged me when I needed encouragement.

I am grateful for every single one of them.

But when I look back over the moments when I wondered whether I would survive, when I think about the times I had almost nothing left to give, and when I consider how much of this journey has been beyond my control, I keep coming back to the same place.

JESUS.

Not because I can explain every moment.

Not because I know what tomorrow holds.

Not because I believe I am guaranteed another miracle.

But because, in the middle of all my unanswered questions, He remains the foundation of my faith.

I don’t know how many more years I have.

I don’t know what the next diagnosis, treatment, or hospitalization might bring.

I don’t know whether the hardest part of my journey is behind me or still ahead.

But I know I don’t want to spend whatever time I have left living in fear of what might happen.

I want to live with purpose.

I want to love deeply.

I want to forgive freely.

I want to encourage relentlessly.

I want to tell people about the hope I’ve found in Jesus without pretending that following Him makes life easy.

And I want to remind people who are fighting battles of their own that they are more than the worst thing that has happened to them.

You are more than your diagnosis.

You are more than your mistakes.

You are more than the opinions of people who don’t understand your journey.

And you are not forgotten simply because your life looks different from the one you imagined.

I cannot promise you that everything will work out the way you want it to. I cannot promise that every prayer will be answered in the way you hope.

But I can tell you that you do not have to walk through your suffering alone.

Jesus meets us in the broken places. He gives us grace for the moments when we have none left to give ourselves. And He reminds us that our worth was never determined by our strength, our health, or our ability to keep everything together.

I am still here. I am still fighting. I am still believing. And I am still trusting Jesus.

Not because I have all the answers.

But because I know where to turn when I don’t.

Twenty-four years ago, I could never have imagined the road I would travel. I never would have chosen it. I would never wish these battles on anyone.

But I am here.

And as long as I am here, I want my life to point beyond me.

I want people to see more than a man with multiple medical diagnoses. I want them to see a husband who loves his wife, a friend who cares about people, a man who still believes in the power of prayer, and a child of God who is learning to trust Jesus one day at a time.

I don’t need to understand every chapter to be grateful that my story is still being written.

And I don’t need to know how many pages remain to make the next one count.

WHY AM I STILL ALIVE?

I don’t know the complete answer.

But I know who I am trusting with the question.

His name is Jesus.

And until He calls me home, I will keep loving, keep serving, keep believing, keep encouraging, and keep overcoming.

Not perfectly.

Not without pain.

Not without questions.

But by His grace, one day at a time.

ONLY JESUS KNOWS WHY I’M STILL HERE. SO, JESUS, WHILE I’M HERE, PLEASE HELP ME MAKE MY LIFE COUNT.

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

KEEP FIGHTING. KEEP BELIEVING. KEEP LOVING. KEEP OVERCOMING.

Your health issues may be part of your story, but they do not get to define the entirety of your life. Your story is still about the person you love, the people you encourage, the grace you extend, and the Jesus you follow.

— A Blessed Overcomer, still walking by faith. ~OC

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Hope Refuses To Give Up

Hope is not wishful thinking that somehow everything will work out. Hope is the unshakable conviction that injustice will not win, death will not have the final word, and darkness will never overcome the light.

But hope is more than something we believe. It’s something we live.

Hope prays when the answers don’t come. Hope peacefully protests when injustice prevails. Hope weeps when hearts are broken. Hope keeps showing up when walking away would be easier.

Hope refuses to accept that the way things are is the way things must always be.

As Christians, our hope is rooted in Jesus Christ. We serve a Savior who conquered the grave, defeated death, and reminds us that even when the world looks hopeless, God is not finished writing the story.

So don’t just talk about hope. Live it. Fight for justice. Stand with the hurting. Love your neighbor. Speak truth. Keep showing up.

Hope is not passive waiting. Hope is active persistence. And as long as God gives us another day, we have another opportunity to make a difference.

“Let us not grow weary in doing good.” — Galatians 6:9

KEEP HOPING. KEEP STANDING. KEEP SHOWING UP. THE STORY ISN’T OVER! ~OC

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I Never Gave Up

Today’s a new day!

I don’t know when my story will end. Only God knows how many chapters remain or what the next page will hold.

I’ve faced battles that nearly broke me, received news that could have crushed my spirit, and walked through storms I never imagined surviving. My journey hasn’t been easy, and I know there are more battles ahead.

But nowhere in my story will you ever read the words, “I GAVE UP.”

I may get tired. I may hurt. I may stumble. I may have days when I don’t understand what God is doing. But by His grace, I will keep fighting, keep believing, and keep overcoming.

My health challenges are part of my story, but they will never define who I am. My faith is bigger than my fear, and my God is greater than any battle I face.

I don’t know how many pages I have left, but as long as God gives me another day, I intend to make it count.

The story isn’t over. The fight isn’t finished. And giving up? THAT WILL NEVER BE MY LEGACY! ~OC

“For I can do everything through Christ, who gives me strength. ~ Philippians 4:13

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Stop Scrolling: America, We Need to Wake Up About Mental Health!

Saturday, October 10, is World Mental Health Day. And America, we need to have an honest conversation about mental health—not just one day a year, but every single day.

Mental health is a serious issue affecting millions of people across America and around the world. Yet, somehow, we still live in a society where people are mocked, ridiculed, and criticized for admitting they are struggling.

Recently, a so-called ESPN reporter criticized and made fun of Philadelphia Eagles offensive lineman Lane Johnson over his decision to step away from football amid mental health struggles and reportedly having both parents dealing with health issues. The reporter later attempted to apologize, but the apology came across as forced rather than sincere.

Let me be clear: THERE IS NOTHING FUNNY ABOUT SOMEONE STRUGGLING WITH THEIR MENTAL HEALTH!

We celebrate athletes for playing through physical injuries. We call them tough when they push through pain. But when someone acknowledges that they are struggling mentally and needs to step away, suddenly some people turn it into a punchline.

WHAT IS WRONG WITH US?

Mental health struggles don’t make you weak. Asking for help doesn’t make you a failure. Taking time to care for yourself doesn’t make you less of a man, woman, parent, spouse, friend, or professional.

IT MAKES YOU HUMAN!

We need to stop telling people to toughen up and start asking how we can help. We need to stop making jokes about struggles we may never fully understand. And we need to create a culture where people feel safe enough to say, “I’m not okay, and I need help.”

Whether you’re an NFL player, a teacher, a pastor, a first responder, a parent, a student, or someone quietly fighting battles nobody else can see, YOUR MENTAL HEALTH MATTERS!

If you’re struggling, please don’t suffer in silence. Reach out to someone you trust. Talk to a mental health professional. Ask for help. You are not alone, and you have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of.

And if someone trusts you enough to share their struggles, respond with compassion instead of criticism.

America, it’s time to wake up! We cannot keep talking about loving our neighbors while laughing at their pain.

Let’s stop stigmatizing mental health and start treating people with the dignity, compassion, and grace they deserve.

Because sometimes the strongest thing a person can do is admit they need help.

And sometimes, the most important thing we can do for someone else is simply remind them that they don’t have to fight alone.

BE KIND. SHOW COMPASSION. END THE STIGMA. MENTAL HEALTH MATTERS! ~OC

If you or someone you know is struggling emotionally, help is available. In the United States, call or text 988 to reach the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline, 24 hours a day.

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Be Careful Who You Let Speak For God

There are two people you should be very careful about believing:

A religious leader who tells you how to vote.
And a politician who tells you how to pray.

A pastor, priest, preacher, or church leader can teach you Scripture. They can challenge you to live like Jesus. They can encourage you to seek God’s wisdom.

But your faith should never be reduced to a voting guide.

And a politician? They can ask for your vote. They can talk about their policies, their vision, and their plans for the country.

But they don’t get to tell you what your faith should look like.

Jesus was not a Republican.
Jesus was not a Democrat.
Jesus did not come to build a political party.

Jesus came to build His Kingdom.

So read your Bible. Pray. Think critically. Examine every candidate and every leader. And never surrender your God-given conscience to someone simply because they stand behind a pulpit or behind a podium.

Don’t let politicians become prophets.
And don’t let pastors become political puppets.

Follow Jesus.

Let His Word shape your heart, your character, your compassion—and yes, even the way you vote.

Jesus should have the loudest voice in your life. ~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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Be The Calm

Today’s a new day!

There is enough chaos in this world without us adding to it.

Enough anger.
Enough outrage.
Enough arguing.
Enough division.
Enough people reacting before they ever stop to think.

And sometimes, the most powerful thing you can do isn’t to speak louder.

It’s to stay calm.

When everyone else is losing their minds, be the person who brings peace.

When everyone else is reacting, be the person who pauses.

When everyone else is throwing gasoline on the fire, be the person who refuses to pick up the match.

When everyone else is looking for someone to blame, be the person willing to extend grace.

Because as followers of Jesus, we were never called to mirror the chaos around us.

We were called to carry something different.

Jesus didn’t promise us a life without storms.

He promised us His presence in the middle of them.

Think about Jesus asleep in the boat while the disciples were terrified by the storm. The waves were crashing. Fear had taken over. Everyone was panicking.

And Jesus got up and spoke to the storm:

“Peace! Be still!”

Maybe sometimes the miracle God wants to work through us isn’t calming the storm around us.

Maybe it’s teaching us how to remain calm while we’re standing in it.

You don’t have to answer every accusation.

You don’t have to win every argument.

You don’t have to respond to every criticism.

You don’t have to match someone else’s anger.

You don’t have to become bitter because someone else is bitter.

And you certainly don’t have to join the storm just because everyone else is standing in the rain.

Be different.

Be the calm.

Be the peace.

Be the person who walks into a chaotic room and changes the atmosphere—not because you have all the answers, but because you know the One who does.

The world doesn’t need more people adding to the noise.

It needs people who carry peace.

People who know when to speak and when to remain silent.

People who choose grace when anger would be easier.

People who choose forgiveness when bitterness feels justified.

People who refuse to let the storm outside determine the condition of their heart inside.

So today, before you react, pause.

Before you respond, pray.

Before you speak, ask yourself whether your words will bring healing or simply add to the storm.

You may not be able to control the storm.

But with God’s help, you can control whether you become part of it.

Don’t join the storm.

Be the calm in the middle of it.

And maybe, just maybe, someone who is drowning in the storm will find their way to Jesus because they saw His peace living inside of you. ~OC

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Being Present and Being Engaged: There Is a Difference

Today’s a new day!

Sometimes the loneliest place in the world is sitting beside someone who is physically there—but emotionally somewhere else.

Read that again.

Because there is a difference between being present and being engaged.

And honestly, I think a lot of us—including me—need to take a hard look at which one we are.

You can sit beside someone for hours and never really be with them.

You can eat dinner with your family while staring at your phone.

You can sit in church every Sunday and never truly encounter God.

You can listen to someone tell you they’re hurting while you’re already thinking about what you’re going to say next.

You can hug someone and say, “I’m here for you,” and yet never actually show up when life gets ugly.

Being present means your body showed up.

Being engaged means your heart did too.

And there’s a world of difference between the two.

Think about Jesus.

He didn’t just walk past hurting people.

He stopped.

He saw the blind man everyone else ignored.

He noticed Zacchaeus when everyone else saw a sinner.

He stopped for the woman who had been bleeding for twelve years.

He touched lepers.

He sat with sinners.

He wept with those who were grieving.

He listened.

He noticed.

He cared.

Jesus didn’t simply share people’s space.

He entered their pain.

That’s engagement.

And maybe that’s what we’ve lost somewhere along the way.

We’re connected to everyone, yet sometimes we’re truly connected to no one.

We have hundreds of friends online but don’t know who is crying behind the smile sitting across from us.

We react to someone’s Facebook post with a heart but never send the message that says, “Are you really okay?”

We say, “Praying for you,” but sometimes never actually pray.

We say, “Let me know if you need anything,” knowing deep down that we’re hoping they never call.

And here’s the painful truth:

Some people don’t need another person telling them everything is going to be okay.

They need someone willing to sit beside them while everything isn’t okay.

They don’t need you to fix them.

They need you to listen.

They need you to stay.

They need you to care when their story gets uncomfortable.

They need you to love them when they aren’t easy to love.

They need you to put the phone down, look them in the eyes, and say:

“Tell me what’s really going on.”

And then stay quiet long enough to actually hear the answer.

Because sometimes the most powerful ministry isn’t a sermon.

It’s a conversation.

It’s a cup of coffee.

It’s a hand held during a difficult moment.

It’s sitting beside a hospital bed.

It’s answering the phone at 2 a.m.

It’s showing up when everyone else has disappeared.

It’s remembering someone’s name.

It’s noticing the person who always says, “I’m fine,” and loving them enough to know they’re not.

That’s what Jesus did.

He noticed people.

And maybe we should too.

So today, I want to challenge all of us—including myself.

Look around.

Really look.

Who in your life needs more than your presence?

Who needs your attention?

Who needs your time?

Who needs your listening ear?

Who is smiling on the outside while quietly falling apart on the inside?

Who have you been physically present with but emotionally absent from?

And perhaps most importantly…

Are you merely present with God, or are you engaged with Him?

Are you just attending church?

Or are you seeking Him?

Are you just reading Scripture?

Or are you allowing Scripture to change you?

Are you just saying prayers?

Or are you actually talking with your Father?

Because God doesn’t want a relationship where we simply check in.

He wants our hearts.

Life moves far too quickly.

One day, the person sitting beside you won’t be there anymore.

One day, the phone call you keep putting off won’t be possible.

One day, the chair across the table may be empty.

One day, you’ll wish you had listened longer.

Loved harder.

Forgiven sooner.

Put the phone down.

Stayed a little longer.

Don’t wait until someone’s funeral to realize you should have spent more time with them while they were alive.

Don’t wait until they’re gone to tell them what they meant to you.

Don’t wait until the opportunity disappears.

Be there now.

Not just physically.

Emotionally.

Spiritually.

Completely.

Because people may forget what you said.

They may forget what you did.

But they will never forget how you made them feel when they were hurting.

So take time to know the difference.

Being present says, “I’m here.”

Being engaged says, “You matter to me.”

And maybe the greatest way we can love people like Jesus loved us…

isn’t simply by showing up.

It’s by staying.

It’s by listening.

It’s by caring.

It’s by entering the mess.

It’s by refusing to walk away.

Because someday, when this life is over and we stand before our Savior, I don’t think we’re going to wish we had spent more time scrolling.

More time arguing.

More time worrying about things that didn’t matter.

More time trying to impress people who weren’t paying attention anyway.

I think we’ll wish we had loved more.

Listened more.

Forgiven more.

Prayed more.

And been there more.

So today…

Put the phone down.

Look up.

Look around.

Look into someone’s eyes.

Ask them how they’re really doing.

And when they finally tell you…

don’t rush away.

Stay.

Because sometimes your willingness to stay may be the very thing God uses to remind a broken heart:

“You are not alone.”

And perhaps that’s what being the hands and feet of Jesus really looks like.

**Not just being present…

but being fully, completely, sacrificially ENGAGED.

Be present. Be engaged. Love like Jesus.

Someone may be silently begging for someone to notice them today.

Please don’t be too busy to see them. ~OC

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