My Hope and Prayer for Each of You

Today’s a new day!

As I continue walking this crazy beautiful journey that God has placed before me, I’ve spent a great deal of time reflecting on what truly matters.

When life is interrupted by doctor’s appointments, hospital stays, difficult diagnoses, and moments that remind you just how fragile life really is, your perspective begins to change.

The things that once seemed so important begin to lose their grip.

The things that truly matter become impossible to ignore.

If I could share one thought with every person I know—my family, my friends, and even those I may never have the privilege of meeting—it is simply this:

Don’t waste your life chasing things that won’t last.

The world constantly tells us to chase more money, more success, more recognition, more followers, more possessions, and more applause.

But none of those things will follow us into eternity.

Only what we do for Christ will last.

So love people well.

Love the people who are not easy to love.

Love the people who disappoint you.

Love the people who think differently than you.

Love the people Jesus loves—which, thankfully, is everyone.

Life is simply too short to withhold kindness.

Forgive quickly.

Bitterness is a prison that only hurts the one carrying it.

Jesus forgave us while we were still sinners. As His followers, may we become known as people who extend the same grace we’ve so freely received.

Encourage often.

You never know what battle someone is fighting behind a smile.

A kind word, a handwritten note, a phone call, a prayer, or simply showing up can become the very thing God uses to carry someone through one more day.

Let’s become people who leave others stronger than we found them.

Walk humbly.

Every blessing we have is a gift from God.

Every talent.

Every opportunity.

Every sunrise.

Every breath.

Humility isn’t thinking less of yourself; it’s thinking of yourself less and making room for Christ to be seen more clearly through your life.

Trust God completely.

Not just when life makes sense.

Trust Him when the diagnosis changes.

Trust Him when the prayers seem unanswered.

Trust Him when the future feels uncertain.

Trust Him because His character never changes, even when our circumstances do.

I’ve learned that God has never once asked me to understand everything.

He has simply asked me to trust Him.

Keep your eyes on Jesus.

The world is loud.

Fear is loud.

Politics are loud.

Social media is loud.

Opinions are loud.

But Jesus still whispers, “Follow Me.”

Don’t allow the noise of this world to drown out the voice of the Good Shepherd.

Fix your eyes on the One who calmed storms, healed broken hearts, welcomed the outcast, carried the cross, defeated death, and still reigns today.

Finally, never forget this beautiful truth:

No matter what you are facing…

His grace is sufficient.

His love never fails.

His mercy is new every morning.

His peace passes understanding.

His presence never leaves you.

His promises are true.

That isn’t wishful thinking.

That is the unchanging character of God.

If my life has taught me anything over these many years, it is this:

Jesus is enough.

Not because life has always been easy.

But because He has always been faithful.

So this is my hope and prayer for each of you.

May you love more deeply than you ever thought possible.

May you forgive as freely as Christ has forgiven you.

May you become an encourager in a world desperate for hope.

May humility become your strength.

May your trust in God grow deeper with every season.

May your eyes remain fixed on Jesus no matter what comes your way.

And when your own earthly journey is complete, may your life tell the story of a Savior who never left your side, never stopped loving you, and never failed to keep His promises.

Until that glorious day, may we continue to walk by faith, love without limits, and shine the light of Christ wherever He leads us.

May our greatest achievement never be measured by what we accumulated, but by how faithfully we loved God and loved people.

And may everything we do point others to Jesus. ~OC

How Many Anne Franks Are Hiding Across America?

Today’s a new day!

“In the end, we’ll all become stories.” Those words, often associated with the power of memory, remind us that every life leaves behind a testimony.

Anne Frank’s diary has endured because it captured history through the eyes of a child. She didn’t write knowing the world would one day read her words. She wrote because she was afraid. She wrote because she hoped. She wrote because putting pen to paper was one of the few freedoms she had left.

Her diary asks every generation a difficult question:

What are the children of our day experiencing?

As I look across America in 2026, I can’t help but wonder…

How many children are quietly keeping journals they never intended anyone else to read?

How many are writing about watching a parent disappear after an immigration raid?

How many are describing the fear of hearing a knock at the door?

How many are documenting life spent wondering whether tomorrow will bring another goodbye?

How many families are being torn apart simply because they were born in another country?

These questions are not about comparing one tragedy to another. Every chapter of history has its own unique pain. Instead, they ask us whether we are paying attention to the people living through history right now.

One day, today’s children will grow up.

Some of them may publish memoirs.

Some may never share their stories.

Others may leave behind journals tucked away in closets, attics, or family boxes, discovered years after they’re gone.

What will those pages say about us?

Will they describe neighbors who chose compassion over fear?

Will they remember churches that opened their doors instead of closing their hearts?

Will they write about strangers who offered food, shelter, friendship, and dignity?

Or will they wonder why so many people looked away?

History has an unsettling habit of asking questions that cannot be answered once the moment has passed.

Future generations won’t simply read government policies or political speeches. They’ll read the stories of ordinary people. They’ll hear the voices of children who lived through these days. They’ll ask what the adults around them did when families were hurting.

As followers of Jesus, our calling has never depended on a person’s nationality, language, immigration status, or background.

Jesus consistently moved toward those on the margins.

He welcomed the stranger.

He cared for the vulnerable.

He challenged His followers to love their neighbors—not just the ones who looked like them or believed the same things.

Loving our neighbor doesn’t require us to agree on every political solution. Nations have laws, and citizens can honestly disagree about how those laws should be shaped and enforced.

But compassion should never become a casualty of politics.

A child is still a child.

A frightened family is still a frightened family.

A person created in the image of God is still a person created in the image of God.

Perhaps the question isn’t how many Anne Franks are hiding across America.

Perhaps the better question is this:

Will today’s children remember that someone saw them?

Will they remember someone who chose kindness over indifference?

Will they remember someone who reflected the love of Christ when they needed it most?

Because one day, the diaries of 2026 may be opened.

And when they are, may they tell stories not only of fear, but also of courage.

Not only of uncertainty, but also of hope.

Not only of suffering, but of people who refused to let compassion disappear.

History is being written today.

So is our legacy. ~OC

Who Will You Stand In The Gap For?

Today’s a new day!

There is a question that every follower of Jesus should ask themselves from time to time.

Who am I willing to stand in the gap for?

Is it only the person who looks like you?

The one who thinks like you?

The one who votes like you?

The one who worships like you?

The one who believes exactly as you do?

The one who speaks your language?

The one who was born in the same country as you?

Or are you willing to stand in the gap for anyone God places in your path?

Throughout the Gospels, Jesus continually crossed the boundaries that people had built. He touched those considered unclean. He ate with tax collectors and sinners. He spoke with Samaritans. He healed Roman servants. He welcomed children. He defended the outcast. He loved those society had rejected.

He never asked whether someone had earned His compassion before extending it.

Instead, He saw people made in the image of God.

That same calling has been given to us.

The world is becoming increasingly divided. We are encouraged to place labels on one another before we ever learn each other’s names. Political affiliation, nationality, race, denomination, social status, education, income, and ideology have become walls that separate people.

Yet the Cross tears those walls down.

Jesus did not die only for people who would someday agree with us.

He died for the whole world.

Every refugee.

Every immigrant.

Every prisoner.

Every addict.

Every widow.

Every orphan.

Every veteran.

Every child.

Every elderly neighbor.

Every wealthy executive.

Every person experiencing homelessness.

Every believer.

Every skeptic.

Every person struggling to find hope.

Every person you may never fully understand.

The ground at the foot of the Cross is level.

Our assignment as Christians is not to decide who deserves our love.

Our assignment is to love.

Sometimes standing in the gap means praying for someone who has no one else praying for them.

Sometimes it means buying a meal.

Sometimes it means listening instead of arguing.

Sometimes it means forgiving when forgiveness feels impossible.

Sometimes it means speaking up for someone whose voice has been ignored.

Sometimes it means sitting beside someone everyone else has walked away from.

Sometimes it simply means reminding another person that they are not forgotten.

Standing in the gap isn’t comfortable.

It wasn’t comfortable for Jesus either.

His love carried Him all the way to Calvary.

The Cross reminds us that sacrificial love is rarely convenient, but it is always powerful.

Imagine what our communities would look like if Christians became known less for the people we exclude and more for the people we embrace.

Imagine churches where everyone knew they would be welcomed.

Imagine conversations marked more by grace than by outrage.

Imagine believers who loved so deeply that people caught a glimpse of Jesus before they ever heard a sermon.

That is what it means to be the hands and feet of Christ.

The next time you encounter someone who is different from you, don’t begin by asking whether they deserve your compassion.

Instead, remember this:

Jesus loves them.

Jesus died for them.

Jesus is pursuing them.

And perhaps He is asking you to stand in the gap for them.

May we be people whose love reflects the heart of Christ rather than the divisions of our culture.

May our hands be quick to serve.

May our words be full of grace.

May our prayers extend beyond those who are easy to love.

And may we never forget that someone once stood in the gap for us.

His name is Jesus Christ.

Because He stood in the gap between a holy God and sinful humanity, we have been offered forgiveness, redemption, and eternal life.

Now it is our turn to carry His love into a hurting world.

Who will you stand in the gap for today? ~OC

What I Look For In A Leader

Today’s a new day!

As followers of Jesus, we are called to pray for those in authority (1 Timothy 2:1–2). We are also called to exercise wisdom and discernment when evaluating the character of those who seek to lead.

When I consider a political candidate, my first question isn’t, “What party do they belong to?” My question is, “What kind of person are they becoming?”

These are some of the qualities I look for.

I look for a joyful heart. Not a manufactured smile for the cameras, but a genuine joy that reflects gratitude, humility, and hope. Scripture reminds us that “the joy of the Lord is your strength” (Nehemiah 8:10). A joyful heart often points to a soul that isn’t driven solely by fear, anger, or resentment.

I look for a clear mind that produces clear thoughts and the ability to express those thoughts with maturity. Leadership requires wisdom. Decisions affect millions of lives, and words have the power to unite or divide. Mature communication matters.

I look for self-restraint. In a culture that rewards outrage and impulsive reactions, self-control is becoming increasingly rare. Yet Scripture calls self-control one of the fruits of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22–23). A leader who cannot govern themselves will struggle to govern wisely.

I look for someone who values people more than power. Power should never become the goal; it should be a tool used to serve others. Jesus, the greatest leader who ever lived, washed the feet of His disciples instead of demanding they serve Him. That is the model of leadership I admire.

I look for someone who respects people—even those who disagree with them. We don’t have to agree with everyone to treat them with dignity. Every person bears the image of God. Civility is not weakness; it is evidence of maturity.

I look for someone who can receive constructive criticism. None of us has all the answers. Wise leaders surround themselves with truth-tellers instead of yes-men. Humility allows correction to become growth instead of offense.

Finally, I look for a heart that produces both kindness and strength. Kindness without conviction can become compromise. Strength without kindness can become cruelty. Jesus embodied both perfectly. He stood firmly for truth while extending extraordinary compassion to people who were hurting.

As I look across today’s political landscape, I find myself longing to see these qualities displayed more consistently in our leaders. That longing isn’t about one party or another. It reflects a desire for leadership that more closely resembles the character Scripture commends.

Perhaps the greatest challenge isn’t simply asking whether our leaders possess these qualities.

Perhaps it’s asking whether we do.

Are we joyful?

Are we self-controlled?

Do we value people over winning arguments?

Do we listen well?

Do we show kindness without abandoning truth?

The Church should be known for these qualities long before we expect them from Washington, our state capitals, or city halls.

Our ultimate hope has never rested in a president, governor, senator, or political party. Our hope rests in Jesus Christ—the King whose kingdom cannot be shaken.

So let us pray for our leaders. Let us vote with wisdom. Let us speak with grace. And above all, let us live in such a way that the character of Christ shines through us, regardless of who occupies positions of earthly authority.

Because while elections shape nations, transformed hearts change the world. ~OC

Loving Our Immigrant Neighbors

Today’s a new day! 

One of the most beautiful truths found throughout Scripture is this: every person is created in the image of God.

That truth doesn’t stop at a border.

It doesn’t depend on the language someone speaks, the color of their passport, or the country they once called home.

It is a truth that reminds us that every person has immeasurable value because they are loved by their Creator.

Today, my heart is especially drawn toward the immigrant community.

Behind every journey is a story.

Some came seeking opportunity. Others came to reunite with family. Some fled violence, persecution, or desperate circumstances. Many have sacrificed everything they knew in the hope of building a safer, better future for those they love.

While every person’s story is different, one thing remains the same: they deserve to be treated with dignity, kindness, and respect.

As followers of Jesus, our first response should never be fear or indifference. Our first response should be love.

Throughout His earthly ministry, Jesus consistently noticed the people others overlooked. He welcomed those on the margins, showed compassion to those in need, and reminded us that loving our neighbor is not optional—it is central to following Him.

Loving our immigrant neighbors does not require us to agree on every political question or every policy debate. Faithful Christians can hold different views about immigration laws and border security while still agreeing that every human being deserves compassion and should be treated with dignity.

The Gospel calls us to something higher than winning arguments.

It calls us to love.

That love may look like volunteering with a local ministry, helping a family learn English, providing meals, supporting legal aid ministries, mentoring children, offering friendship to someone who feels alone, or simply taking the time to listen to another person’s story.

Sometimes the greatest ministry begins with seeing someone who feels invisible.

The Church has an incredible opportunity to reflect the heart of Christ.

Imagine churches becoming places where newcomers find hope instead of suspicion, friendship instead of isolation, and grace instead of rejection.

Imagine believers praying not only for their own families but also for the families who have traveled difficult roads in search of safety, stability, or a new beginning.

The love of Christ has always crossed every barrier humanity has tried to build.

When we remember that, our hearts begin to change.

Today, let’s pray for immigrant families in our neighborhoods and throughout the world. Pray for their safety, for wisdom for those making difficult decisions, for churches to faithfully serve their communities, and for our leaders as they seek solutions that uphold both justice and compassion.

Then ask the Lord a simple but life-changing question:

“Jesus, how can You use me to love my neighbors today?”

Because prayer is never meant to end with “Amen.”

Prayer changes us.

Prayer opens our eyes.

Prayer moves our hands and feet.

May we become known as people who welcome others with the same grace that Christ has shown us.

One day, people from every tribe, every language, every nation, and every people will stand together before the throne of God, worshiping Jesus with one voice.

Until then, may we live as citizens of His Kingdom—loving generously, serving humbly, praying faithfully, and reflecting the heart of Christ to everyone we meet.

Prayer:

Dear God, we lift up immigrant families around the world and in our own communities. You know every journey, every fear, every hope, and every need. Protect those who are vulnerable, comfort those who are grieving, strengthen families facing uncertainty, and provide opportunities for peace and flourishing. Give wisdom to our leaders as they make difficult decisions, and help Your Church to be a place of compassion, truth, and hope. Teach us to love our neighbors as You have loved us, so that our lives point others to Jesus Christ. In His powerful and holy name we pray, Amen.

If We Don’t Look And Act Like Jesus, Why Would Anyone Want Jesus?

Today’s a new day! ~OC

One of the hardest questions I wrestle with is this:

If I didn’t know Jesus, would the way many Christians act make me want to know Him… or run the other direction?

That’s not a question for “those Christians.” It’s a question for every one of us who claims His name.

Over the years, I’ve had countless conversations with people who don’t believe in Christ. What has surprised me isn’t that they reject Jesus. In fact, many don’t.

Most have no problem with Jesus.

They admire His compassion. They respect His love for the forgotten. They appreciate that He defended the outcast, touched the untouchable, forgave sinners, and confronted religious hypocrisy.

The problem they keep describing isn’t Jesus.

The problem is many of the people who claim to represent Him.

They see Christians who are quicker to judge than to listen.

Quicker to condemn than to comfort.

Quicker to win an argument than to win a soul.

Quicker to defend a political party than to defend the Gospel.

They hear us talk about love while watching us treat people with contempt.

They hear us preach grace while refusing to extend it.

They hear us speak about forgiveness while clinging to bitterness.

Can we really blame a hurting world for being confused?

Jesus said the world would know we belong to Him by our love—not by our outrage, our social media posts, our political victories, or our ability to prove someone wrong.

The early Church turned the world upside down because they looked like Jesus.

They served.

They sacrificed.

They forgave.

They loved people no one else wanted.

They cared for the poor.

They welcomed the stranger.

They laid down their lives rather than demand their rights.

Somewhere along the way, too many of us have become known more for what we’re against than for Who we follow.

That should break our hearts.

The Church was never called to mirror the culture. We were called to reflect Christ.

Being the hands and feet of Jesus isn’t a catchy phrase. It’s our calling.

It means feeding the hungry.

Visiting the lonely.

Welcoming the broken.

Standing with the hurting.

Speaking truth with humility.

Offering grace without compromising the Gospel.

Loving people before expecting them to live like believers.

The world is desperately searching for hope.

Searching for purpose.

Searching for unconditional love.

Searching for life.

They’re looking everywhere because too often they don’t see those things in us.

Imagine what would happen if Christians became impossible to hate—not because we compromised truth, but because we loved so radically that even those who disagreed with us couldn’t deny the presence of Christ.

Imagine if our first instinct was mercy instead of judgment.

Listening instead of assuming.

Serving instead of demanding.

Loving instead of labeling.

That’s exactly what Jesus did.

The Gospel has never changed.

Jesus has never changed.

His love still transforms lives.

His grace still saves.

His cross is still enough.

Maybe the greatest revival our communities need doesn’t begin with the lost finding Jesus.

Maybe it begins with the Church looking like Jesus again.

Lord, let us be known for our love.

Let our words match our witness.

Let our lives point people toward You instead of away from You.

May we never become a stumbling block to those You came to save.

May we truly become Your hands and feet in a world desperate to experience Your hope, Your grace, and Your life.

Amen.

Faces Covered, Hearts Exposed: What This Train Car Teaches Us About Hate And Christian Nationalism

Courage vs Cowards

Today’s a new day! Here are my thoughts on this photo taken on the Metro in Washington, D.C. The following are my thoughts and opinions. If you happen to disagree with me, I encourage you to take it up with God.

Look at this photo. A young woman sits alone on a train, surrounded by dozens of men in matching uniforms, faces covered, patches bearing flags. She meets the camera’s eye. They refuse to be seen.

This image is a parable. And it’s the opposite of the Gospel.

The Gospel unmasks. Hate hides.

Jesus never hid His face. He wept publicly, prayed publicly, died publicly. “I have spoken openly to the world,” He told His accusers. (John 18:20)

Hate loves masks. It loves anonymity, mobs, and intimidation. Why? Because deeds done in darkness don’t survive the light (John 3:20). When an ideology needs to cover faces to deliver its message, it’s already confessed something about that message.

Christian Nationalism too often puts a mask on Jesus. It takes the crucified Savior and dresses Him in the uniform of earthly power. But Christ doesn’t need our flags stitched to His robe. “My kingdom is not of this world” (John 18:36). When we try to make it of this world, we end up looking like this train car: coercive, not compelling.

The Gospel draws near. Hate surrounds.

Notice the posture here. One person, isolated. Many others, standing, looming. That’s not how Jesus moved through crowds. 

He touched lepers when others stepped back. He invited Zacchaeus down from a tree when the crowd boxed him out. He stopped for the woman no one else would look at. The Gospel breaks circles of exclusion. Hate forms them.

Christian Nationalism, at its worst, baptizes “us vs. them.” It defines who belongs and who threatens. But the cross destroyed the dividing wall of hostility (Ephesians 2:14). If our faith needs an enemy to stay strong, it isn’t Christian faith. It’s civil religion with a cross necklace.

The Gospel sees the individual. Hate sees categories.

I don’t know the woman’s name in the photo. You don’t either. But God does. She isn’t a symbol. She’s a person made in His image (Genesis 1:27)

Movements built on hate don’t see people. They see demographics, threats, problems to solve. They make you afraid to sit alone on a train in your own city. 

Jesus’s first question to people was often, “What do you want me to do for you?” (Mark 10:51). He saw individuals. Christian Nationalism tends to see a “nation to save” and turns people into footnotes. When saving “America” matters more than loving the person next to you on the Metro, we’ve lost the plot.

So what do we do when the train car feels like the world?

Uncover our own faces: Confess where contempt has crept into our hearts. It’s easy to hate the masked men too. Jesus doesn’t give us that option. “Love your enemies” (Luke 6:27) includes them.

Sit with the isolated: Who in your life feels like that woman on the train? The Gospel moves us toward them, not away. Proximity kills caricatures.

Refuse the idols of power and fear: The early church changed the Roman Empire without voting, lobbying, or taking up swords. They did it by loving radically and dying well. Our witness still works that way.

Remember what we’re witnessing to: Not a Christian nation. A crucified Christ. “We preach Christ crucified… the power of God and the wisdom of God” (1 Corinthians 1:23-24). 

This photo should grieve us. Not just because of what it says about them, but because of what it reveals about us. Every one of those masked hearts was knit together by God. Every one of them is someone Christ died for. So is she. So are you. So am I.

Hate says, “Cover your face and find your strength in numbers.” 

Jesus says, “Take up your cross and find your life by losing it.”

The train is still running. The choice is still ours. Which kingdom will we board? ~OC

The Morning That Changed My Prayer Life Forever

This is the second of two deeply personal experiences that I have shared publicly for the very first time.

The first was my experience during surgery in 2019, when I believe God allowed me to see Heaven before telling me, “Not yet. I still have more work for you to do.”

This is the story of another experience that forever changed how I pray, how I love people, and how urgently I believe Christians should share the Good News of Jesus Christ.

After the miracle God performed in my life in November of 2019, something incredible happened.

For a season, God allowed me to run again.

Considering everything my body had endured through years of illness, surgeries, and suffering, every mile felt like a gift from God. Every run became an opportunity not only to exercise but also to pray.

On a Thursday morning in October of 2020, I headed out for what I thought would be another ordinary run.

As I ran past Jupiter Medical Center in Jupiter, Florida, I did what I had done countless times before. I prayed for the doctors, nurses, staff, patients, and families. I asked Jesus to bring healing, peace, wisdom, comfort, and hope to everyone inside those walls.

A little farther into my run, I decided to stop at a men’s Bible study in Jupiter. We spent time praying together, encouraging one another, and opening God’s Word. It was a wonderful morning of fellowship.

After the Bible study, I decided to continue my run before heading home.

That’s when everything changed.

As I ran down Central Boulevard near the park affectionately known as “Duck Park,” life seemed completely normal. The sky was bright blue. The weather was cool. People were jogging, riding bicycles, walking, and driving by.

Then, in what felt like only moments, everything around me changed.

The blue skies disappeared.

Darkness surrounded me.

The temperature became unbearably hot.

What I experienced next is something that has stayed with me every single day since.

I believe God allowed me, for only a few brief moments, to experience something I can only describe as a glimpse of hell.

Around me I heard people crying out in desperation.

They were screaming.

Over and over I heard words that pierced my heart:

“Why didn’t anyone tell us about Jesus?”

“Why did so many Christians give up on us?”

Those cries echoed with an anguish that is impossible to put into words.

What made the experience even more overwhelming was that I could still see people running, riding bicycles, and driving as they had been only moments before, yet in this experience they too were crying out with the very same questions.

The entire experience lasted only a matter of seconds.

Then it was over.

I have often joked that I could have qualified for the Olympic team by how fast I ran home that morning.

But behind the humor is a truth that has never left me.

That morning changed my life forever.

Whether I am speaking with one person or a thousand people, I can no longer look at anyone the same way.

Every person I meet has an eternal soul.

Every conversation matters.

Every act of kindness matters.

Every prayer matters.

Every opportunity to share the love of Jesus matters.

I don’t believe Christians are called to preach with condemnation or fear. We are called to preach with tears in our eyes, compassion in our hearts, and the love of Christ leading every word we speak.

Jesus didn’t come to condemn the world.

He came to save it.

That experience gave me an urgency that has never faded.

I still wake up every day asking God, “Who needs to hear about You today? Who needs encouragement today? Who needs hope today? Who needs someone to remind them that they are loved by God?”

I believe every follower of Jesus should live with that same sense of eternal purpose—not out of panic, but out of love.

People all around us are searching for hope.

Many have never truly experienced the grace of Jesus.

Many have been hurt by people who claimed to represent Him.

Many have concluded that no one cares enough to tell them the truth wrapped in love.

May that never be said of us.

This is the first time I have publicly shared both of these experiences—my encounter in Heaven during surgery in 2019 and this life-changing experience during a morning run in October of 2020.

Both have been incredibly difficult to share, each for different reasons.

I know there will be questions.

There may even be skepticism.

I understand that.

My goal has never been to convince anyone based on my experiences.

My prayer is simply that my testimony points people to Jesus Christ.

If these stories encourage even one person to seek Him more deeply, to pray more faithfully, to love more compassionately, or to boldly share the Gospel with someone who needs hope, then sharing them will have been worth it.

As Scripture reminds us:

“Go into all the world and preach the gospel to all creation.” (Mark 16:15)

May we never grow comfortable with keeping the greatest news the world has ever known to ourselves.

There are people waiting to hear about the Savior who changed our lives.

Let’s tell them. ~OC

Not Yet: The Day God Sent Me Back

I don’t share the following two encounters very often. The reason is simple—they’re deeply personal, incredibly overwhelming, and whenever I do share them, there are always people who want to explain them away, offer their own opinions, or question what happened.

That’s okay.

After years of keeping the following two life experiences mostly to myself, I’ve reached a place in my journey where I’m no longer concerned with convincing anyone. My responsibility is simply to tell the story God has given me to tell.

Over the next two posts, I want to share two totally different experiences that forever changed my life.

Here is the first one. 

On April 16, 2019, I underwent one of my many stomach surgeries after years of battling serious health challenges. During that surgery, something happened that I will never forget.

I went to Heaven.

As impossible as that may sound to some, I know what I experienced.

I remember walking on streets of gold unlike anything I could have ever imagined. The colors were beyond anything my earthly eyes had ever seen before—or have seen since. Everything radiated the glory of God in a way that words simply cannot describe.

But perhaps the most incredible part was this…

I had a completely new body.

There were no scars.

No feeding tubes.

No medical devices.

No pain.

No weakness.

Every reminder of my years of illness was gone.

For the first time in a very long time, I felt completely whole.

As I continued walking, I saw a set of steps just ahead of me. When I placed my right foot on the very first step, I heard the voice of God with absolute clarity.

“Not yet.”

Then He told me that He still had more work for me to do on earth.

The next thing I remember was waking up in the recovery room surrounded by doctors and nurses.

Apparently, during the procedure they believed something medically significant had happened because when I awoke, I wasn’t speaking. I simply kept pointing toward the sky.

It would be nearly twenty-four hours before I could really speak again.

If I’m being completely honest, I remember feeling almost depressed after waking up.

I didn’t want to come back.

At that point in my life, I weighed only 110 pounds. I had been unable to eat solid food for several years. I needed a voice amplifier just to communicate. My body was exhausted after years of surgeries, treatments, and constant battles.

I was ready to be home with Jesus.

My question wasn’t, “Why did this happen?”

My question was, “Lord…why did You send me back?”

I didn’t understand.

Not yet.

What I couldn’t see in that recovery room was that God already had the next chapter written.

Almost seven months later, in November 3, 2019, Jesus would allow me to experience a miracle that would change not only my life but also the lives of countless people who would witness it firsthand or hear about it in the years that followed.

Sometimes God says “not yet” because your story isn’t finished.

Sometimes He sends you back because someone else still needs the hope that only your testimony can give.

Looking back now, I understand that Heaven wasn’t simply shown to me as a destination—it was given to me as a reminder.

A reminder that this world is not our home.

A reminder that suffering has an expiration date.

A reminder that God still has purpose even when we cannot see it.

And a reminder that when God says, “Not yet,” it’s never a rejection.

It’s an assignment. One that can lead us on a crazy beautiful journey. 

A different, but equally important encounter is coming up in the next post. ~OC

Standing With Our Haitian Neighbors

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

My heart is saddened by the recent Supreme Court decision allowing the federal government to move forward with changes affecting Temporary Protected Status (TPS) for many Haitians living and working throughout the United States. This decision could ultimately affect more than 300,000 individuals who have built lives, raised families, and contributed to communities across our nation.

These are not just numbers on a government report. They are mothers and fathers, sons and daughters, coworkers, neighbors, church members, healthcare workers, teachers, business owners, and friends. They came to America seeking safety, opportunity, and the chance to build a better future. For many, what once looked like the American Dream now feels uncertain and frightening.

As Christians, our first response should never be indifference. Our first response should be compassion.

The Haitian community has enriched countless cities and towns across America through hard work, perseverance, faith, and service. They have strengthened our churches, supported local businesses, cared for the sick, educated our children, and invested in their communities. Their contributions deserve to be recognized and appreciated.

Regardless of where we stand on immigration policy, we should never lose sight of the humanity of the people affected by these decisions. Every person bears the image of God. Every family matters. Every child deserves to know that they are loved.

Throughout Scripture, God repeatedly reminds His people to care for the foreigner, the stranger, and the vulnerable. Our calling is not to harden our hearts but to reflect the compassion and mercy that Christ has shown each of us.

Today, I want the Haitian community to know that you are not forgotten. I am praying for every family facing uncertainty, every parent worried about the future of their children, and every worker wondering what tomorrow may bring. May God surround you with His peace, provide for your needs, and remind you that He is near to the brokenhearted.

I also encourage my fellow Christians to pray, to listen, and to seek ways to support Haitian families in their local communities. If you believe changes should be made to current policies, respectfully contact your elected representatives and make your voice heard through peaceful civic engagement. Our democracy allows us to advocate for policies we believe reflect justice, compassion, and the common good.

The Church has always been at its best when it chooses love over fear, mercy over indifference, and compassion over division.

Let us be known as people who welcome, encourage, pray, and stand beside those who are hurting. May our churches become places where every person—regardless of nationality or background—finds hope, dignity, and the love of Jesus Christ.

My prayers remain with the Haitian community during this difficult season. May God grant wisdom to our nation’s leaders, comfort to every anxious heart, and remind us all that His Kingdom is built not on division, but on love.

Prayer:

Heavenly Father,

We lift up every Haitian family facing uncertainty today. Comfort those who are anxious, strengthen those who feel discouraged, and provide wisdom for our nation’s leaders as they make decisions that affect so many lives.

Help Your Church to be a light in moments of darkness. Give us hearts filled with compassion, words filled with grace, and hands ready to serve. Teach us to love our neighbors as You have loved us.

May justice, mercy, and humility guide our actions, and may the peace of Christ reign in every heart.

In the loving and caring name of Jesus I pray. Amen.

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