Be near to the person walking through this cancer battle today. Give them strength when they feel weak, peace when they are afraid, and hope when the road feels too long.
We declare in faith that cancer does not have the final word—Jesus does. We speak life, healing, strength, and restoration over their body. We ask You to touch every cell, strengthen every organ, calm every fear, and bring healing where healing is needed.
Guide every doctor, nurse, treatment, and decision. Give wisdom to those providing care and courage to the one receiving it.
Lord, let Your healing power move through this body. Let every treatment accomplish what it is intended to do, and let there be strength where there has been weakness and renewed hope where there has been exhaustion.
We believe You are still the Healer. We believe miracles are still possible. We believe this battle is not the end of the story.
Surround them with Your presence and remind them that they never walk alone.
In the mighty, powerful and healing name of Jesus, Amen.
In a Facebook post, one of my friends poised the following questions.
The questions peaked my curiosity.
Can we act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with our Godwhile serving under the banner of the American government?
Can we claim to be a nation founded on freedom while ignoring the freedom, dignity, and humanity of our neighbors?
Can we call ourselves a Christian nation while forgetting that Jesus never told us to love only the people who look like us, vote like us, worship like us, or were born where we were born?
Is our country poised to encourage us tolove our neighbors as ourselves?
I’m curious.
Because Micah 6:8 doesn’t say:
Act justly when it’s politically convenient.
Love mercy when the person deserves it.
Walk humbly when everyone agrees with you.
It simply says:
“Do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with your God.”
And Jesus didn’t give us a list of exceptions when He said:
“Love your neighbor as yourself.”
Our allegiance to Jesus must always be greater than our allegiance to a political party, a government, an ideology, or even our own comfort.
America has laws.
America has leaders.
America has political parties.
But Jesus has disciples.
And disciples are called to something higher.
We are called to feed the hungry.
Welcome the stranger.
Defend the vulnerable.
Care for the forgotten.
Stand with the oppressed.
Speak truth when truth costs us something.
Love our enemies.
And treat every human being as someone created in the image of God.
So maybe the question isn’t simply:
“Is America doing enough?”
Maybe the harder question is:
“Am I?”
Am I loving my neighbor?
Am I showing mercy?
Am I pursuing justice?
Am I walking humbly?
Am I willing to speak when silence would be easier?
Am I willing to stand with people Jesus would have stood beside—even when standing there costs me friends, followers, comfort, or approval?
Because before I am an American…
I am a follower of Jesus.
And when the values of my government, my political party, or my culture collide with the teachings of Christ, I don’t get to rewrite Jesus.
I have to follow Him.
That’s not anti-American.
That’s discipleship.
Jesus first. Neighbor second. Politics somewhere far behind.
So yes…
I’m curious.
What would America look like if Christians actually took Jesus seriously?
When did a ballroom and a reflecting pool become more important than affordable housing, groceries, and healthcare?
When did another beautiful building become more important than a struggling family trying to keep a roof over their heads?
When did a grand project become more important than a mother standing in a grocery store aisle, quietly putting things back because she can’t afford them?
When did a ribbon-cutting ceremony become more important than a senior citizen deciding which prescription can wait until next month?
And when did projects become more important than the safety of the American troops who put their lives on the line for this country?
These aren’t questions about whether beautiful buildings have value.
They do.
Infrastructure matters. Public spaces matter. Economic development matters. Investment in our communities matters.
But priorities matter, too.
Because behind every budget line is a human being.
A family wondering how they’re going to pay the rent.
A parent trying to stretch a grocery budget until payday.
A cancer patient worrying about the next medical bill.
A veteran struggling to get the care they were promised.
A young family wondering if they’ll ever be able to afford a home.
And somewhere across the world, an American service member is putting on a uniform and wondering whether the country they serve has done everything possible to bring them home safely.
People should never become an afterthought.
We can build beautiful things AND make sure people can afford to live.
We can invest in communities AND make sure families can put food on the table.
We can create public spaces AND make healthcare accessible.
We can dream about tomorrow AND take care of the people struggling today.
We don’t necessarily have to choose one or the other.
But we absolutely have to ask:
What comes first?
Because government isn’t supposed to exist merely to build monuments to itself.
It exists to serve people.
The measure of a nation isn’t simply the size of its buildings, the beauty of its reflecting pools, or the grandeur of its projects.
Maybe the measure of a nation is found in something much simpler:
Can its people afford a place to live?
Can they afford groceries?
Can they see a doctor when they’re sick?
Can veterans get the care they’ve earned?
Can our children imagine a future they can actually afford?
And can we send our sons and daughters into harm’s way knowing we’ve done everything possible to protect them?
I’m not against progress.
I’m not against beautiful spaces.
I’m not against investing in America.
I’m asking us to remember who America is for.
Because a reflecting pool cannot hold a family’s tears.
A ballroom cannot feed a hungry child.
A grand project cannot replace a missing loved one.
And no ribbon-cutting ceremony should ever be more important than the life of an American soldier.
BUILD THE FUTURE.
But while we’re building it, DON’T FORGET THE PEOPLE.
Because America isn’t ultimately about buildings.
America is about people.
And if we lose sight of that, we may end up with beautiful places everywhere—and still wonder why so many people feel forgotten.
Maybe it’s time we stopped asking, “What can we build?”
I think it’s time for Good Trouble and to start flipping some tables.
For too long we’ve confused being nice with being faithful. We’ve stayed seated. Stayed quiet. Stayed polite while the temple filled with money changers.
Jesus wasn’t crucified for being nice. He was crucified for flipping tables.
He walked into the house of God, saw exploitation, saw corruption, saw people using the name of God for profit and power, and He didn’t write a polite letter. He made a whip. He turned over tables. He drove it out. John 2:15.
John Lewis called it Good Trouble. Necessary trouble. The kind of trouble that says love is not passive. Love protects. Love confronts. Love refuses to look away.
So I’m asking you, brother and sister in Christ:
Stand up when it’s easier to sit down. Speak up when it’s safer to stay silent. Flip the table of injustice in your part of the world. Flip the table of corruption in your church, your neighborhood and politics. Flip the table of lies in our political system. Regardless of party affiliation.
We were never called to fit in with this world. We were called to shake it.
I BELIEVE THAT IN THE FACE OF EVERY NEIGHBOR, WE CATCH A GLIMPSE OF THE FACE OF GOD.
Not just the neighbor who looks like us.
Not just the neighbor who agrees with us.
Not just the neighbor who votes like us, worships like us, speaks like us, or comes from the same place we do.
Every neighbor.
The hurting neighbor. The lonely neighbor. The immigrant neighbor. The poor neighbor. The forgotten neighbor. The neighbor who is struggling. The neighbor who doesn’t believe what we believe.
Jesus didn’t tell us to love only the people who were easy to love.
He said, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” — Matthew 22:39
And when Jesus described the Good Samaritan, He shattered the walls people had built between “us” and “them.”
Maybe that’s the challenge for the Church today:
Stop looking for reasons to separate people and start looking for opportunities to love them.
Because every person we encounter is someone made in the image of God.
So before you judge them, see them.
Before you condemn them, listen to them.
Before you walk past them, love them.
Before you ask, “What do they deserve?” ask, “What would Jesus do?”
Because sometimes the person standing in front of us isn’t an interruption to our ministry.
They ARE the ministry.
Jesus said, “Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.” — Matthew 25:40
So today, look a little closer.
You may discover that in the face of your neighbor…
you are seeing a glimpse of the face of God.
Love your neighbor. See the person. Serve the hurting. Welcome the stranger. Feed the hungry. Lift the broken. And let the world see Jesus through the way we love.
Because the Gospel isn’t just something we preach.
I have some questions for the Church and the Christian Community.
Would Jesus separate families from each other?
Would Jesus force children off food assistance or healthcare while they are already struggling to survive?
Would Jesus disrespect people, call them names, demean them, and then claim it was all being done in His name?
Would Jesus terrorize an immigrant who is working hard to provide for their family?
Would Jesus use Scripture as a weapon to justify hatred?
Would Jesus turn His back on His neighbor because they were different, poor, undocumented, politically opposed, addicted, broken, or simply didn’t look like us?
When I read Scripture, study the life of Jesus, and look at the way He treated people, I keep coming back to the same answer:
NO.
No.
No.
No.
Jesus touched the untouchable.
Jesus welcomed the rejected.
Jesus fed the hungry.
Jesus defended the vulnerable.
Jesus showed compassion to the hurting.
Jesus loved His enemies.
Jesus commanded us to love our neighbors.
Jesus didn’t tell us to find reasons to hate people.
He told us to love God and love our neighbor.
And here’s the uncomfortable part:
We don’t get to put Jesus’ name on something simply because we believe we’re right.
If our politics make us cruel, something is wrong.
If our theology makes us hateful, something is wrong.
If our Christianity makes us dehumanize people, something is wrong.
If we’re screaming about protecting Christianity while refusing to show the love, mercy, compassion, grace, and truth of Christ…
we may be defending a religion while completely missing Jesus.
I’m not asking you to agree with me politically.
I’m asking something much more important:
Does the way we treat people look like Jesus?
Because one day, we’re not going to stand before Jesus and explain what our political party believed.
We’re not going to stand before Him and defend our favorite politician.
We’re going to stand before HIM.
So before we say, “I’m doing this in Jesus’ name,” maybe we should stop and ask:
“Jesus, would You do this?”
Because if the answer is no…
then don’t put His name on it.
BE THE HANDS. BE THE FEET. BE THE LOVE. BE THE TRUTH. BE THE LIGHT.
And above everything else—
BE LIKE JESUS.
That’s the Christianity this world desperately needs. ~OC
We have said things we wish we could take back. Made decisions we wish we could undo. Trusted people we shouldn’t have trusted. Ignored warnings we should have listened to. Taken roads we never should have traveled.
But here’s the truth:
Your mistake does not have to become your identity.
A mistake can become a Classroom when you are willing to learn from it.
But it can become a Coffin when pride keeps you from admitting it, repentance keeps getting postponed, and you continue making the same destructive choices over and over again.
Don’t waste your pain.
Don’t waste your failure.
Don’t waste the lesson.
Learn from it. Own it. Repent from it. Grow from it. Then keep moving forward.
You don’t have to stay buried in yesterday because you made a mistake yesterday.
Grace is bigger than your failure.
Mercy is greater than your mess.
And God is not finished writing your story.
The enemy wants your mistakes to bury you. God wants to use them to build you.
So get back up.
Take the lesson.
Close the chapter.
Walk forward.
And remember:
YOUR MISTAKES CAN EITHER BE YOUR CLASSROOM OR YOUR COFFIN.
DON’T DIE IN A LESSON GOD INTENDED TO TEACH YOU.
Get up.
Learn.
Repent.
Overcome.
And keep fighting the good fight.
Your story isn’t over.
Jesus still saves. Jesus still restores. Jesus still redeems. And Jesus can take the broken pieces of your life and create something beautiful.
While I was lying in an ICU room at a local hospital, fighting for my life, Tommee Profitt’s new project, Human, was released.
The timing couldn’t have been more perfect.
As many of you know, things did not look good.
This was the second time this year that I had been hospitalized and found myself fighting for my life. There were moments when the road ahead looked incredibly uncertain.
But while I was lying there in that ICU room, I put Human on repeat.
Over and over.
And over again.
Human is, in many ways, a simple project—beautiful instrumental pieces centered around the piano. There are no complicated words. No elaborate message being preached through lyrics.
Just music.
But somehow, those piano notes said everything I needed to hear.
That album didn’t just become background music in my hospital room.
It ministered to me.
It brought peace into a room filled with machines, monitors, alarms, medications, uncertainty and fear.
And something else happened that I didn’t expect.
It touched the people who walked through that ICU door.
Doctors.
Nurses.
Hospital staff.
Family.
Friends.
People would come into my room while Human was playing, and for a few moments, the atmosphere seemed to change.
The music became part of the story.
Part of the battle.
Part of the healing.
For me, Human will forever be connected to those ICU days.
Not because the album saved me.
God did.
Not because music performed a miracle.
God did.
Not because I somehow fought my way back on my own.
God carried me.
Today, I’m home.
I’m recovering.
And my new medical team is amazed at how far I’ve come.
After everything that happened, I don’t take that for granted.
All praise, honor and glory belong to God.
He never left my side.
Not in the ICU.
Not in the darkest moments.
Not when things looked impossible.
Not when I was fighting for my life.
And not now that I’m home.
He was there through every breath, every prayer, every tear, every medical treatment and every uncertain moment.
And I’m incredibly thankful.
I’m also thankful for artists like Tommee Profitt, whose music became an unexpected companion during one of the hardest battles of my life.
Especially Human.
Sometimes we don’t realize how powerful a gift we’ve been given until it finds us at exactly the moment we need it most.
For me, Human found me in an ICU room.
And I will never hear those piano notes the same way again.
They will always remind me of a battle I survived…
A God who never abandoned me…
And another chapter in this crazy, beautiful journey called life.
I’m home.
I’m still standing.
I’m still fighting.
I’m still overcoming.
And most importantly…
God is still writing my story.
May you have a beautiful, peaceful and blessed day.
And wherever you are today, whatever you’re facing, remember this:
You are not alone.
Keep fighting.
Keep believing.
Keep overcoming.
And never forget who is carrying you through the battle.
The Blessed Overcomer 