Tag: Encouragement

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.

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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

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A New Week

A new week is a gift from God. It arrives with fresh opportunities, new mercies, and another chance to reflect the love of Jesus to a world that desperately needs hope. No matter what happened last week—the victories, the disappointments, the unanswered prayers, or the unexpected challenges—today is a new beginning.

As we step into this week, let’s choose to fill our hearts with hope, praise, and thanksgiving. Hope reminds us that God is still working, even when we cannot see it. Praise shifts our focus from our problems to His promises. Thanksgiving reminds us that every good gift comes from our Heavenly Father, even in seasons when life feels difficult.

This week, let us truly strive to be the hands and feet of Jesus.

There are people all around us who are carrying burdens that we know nothing about. A smile, an encouraging word, a helping hand, or simply taking time to listen may be exactly what someone needs. Jesus didn’t just preach about love—He demonstrated it every single day. As His followers, we are called to do the same.

Take a few moments this week to reach out to a friend or a loved one. Send a text. Make a phone call. Share a cup of coffee. Ask them how they’re really doing. Sometimes the greatest ministry is simply showing someone they haven’t been forgotten.

Our world often seems filled with negativity. It’s easy to become discouraged when we focus only on the headlines, the conflicts, or the disappointments around us. But as followers of Christ, we are called to fix our eyes on what is good, honorable, and praiseworthy. Instead of dwelling on the darkness, let us become people who shine the light of Christ wherever we go. 

Let’s also make a conscious decision to be kind this week.

Kindness costs us very little, but it can mean everything to someone else. A kind word can encourage a weary heart. A patient response can calm a difficult situation. A generous act can remind someone that God sees them and cares for them.

May this also be a week marked by love, respect, and compassion.

Love people without expecting anything in return.

Respect those who think differently than you.

Show compassion to those who are hurting, struggling, or simply feeling alone.

When we live this way, we become living examples of Christ’s love.

As you begin this new week, remember that you may be the only glimpse of Jesus someone sees. Let your words bring hope. Let your actions reflect His grace. Let your heart overflow with gratitude. And wherever God leads you this week, be faithful in the little things, because God often uses small acts of obedience to accomplish extraordinary things.

May your week be filled with God’s peace, His strength, and His joy. May you walk in hope, live with purpose, and leave every person you encounter knowing they have been loved.

“Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.” — Matthew 5:16

Have a blessed week, and let’s go be the hands and feet of Jesus. ~OC

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Discipleship, Relationships Over Numbers

Today’s a new day! 

Over the past few years, I’ve had countless conversations with fellow Christians after church services, over coffee, in Bible studies, and during everyday life.

Different churches.

Different denominations.

Different backgrounds.

Yet one theme continues to surface again and again.

“I love my church…but I still feel alone.”

Those words have stayed with me.

These conversations haven’t come from people who are angry with the Church. Quite the opposite. They faithfully attend, faithfully give, faithfully serve, and genuinely love Jesus.

Yet many quietly admit they feel disconnected.

One friend shared, “I’ve been attending for three years, and I still don’t feel like anyone really knows me.”

Another said, “I know hundreds of faces, but I don’t have anyone I can call when life falls apart.”

Someone else confessed, “I leave encouraged by the sermon, but I still feel spiritually isolated.”

As I listened, I realized these weren’t isolated stories.

I was hearing the same longing over and over.

People aren’t asking for bigger buildings.

They’re asking for deeper relationships.

They’re not looking for more programs.

They’re longing for genuine discipleship.

It made me wonder if, in many churches, we’ve unintentionally traded disciple numbers for attendance numbers.

Attendance matters. Every person who walks through the doors is someone Christ loves deeply. Churches should celebrate every new visitor and every opportunity to share the Gospel.

But attendance has never been the ultimate mission.

Jesus didn’t say, “Go and gather crowds.”

He said, “Go and make disciples.”

Discipleship is personal.

It requires time.

It requires listening.

It requires walking through life’s joys and hardships together.

It means knowing someone’s name, hearing their story, praying over their struggles, and encouraging them to keep following Christ.

That kind of ministry can’t always happen during a Sunday morning service.

It happens in living rooms.

Around dinner tables.

In small groups.

Over coffee.

In hospital waiting rooms.

During phone calls.

Through tears.

Through prayer.

Through simply showing up for one another.

Many of the Christians I’ve spoken with aren’t criticizing their churches.

They’re grieving what they feel is missing.

They long to belong to a spiritual family, not simply attend a weekly gathering.

They want someone to notice when they’re absent.

Someone to ask how they’re doing—and genuinely wait for the answer.

Someone to help them grow in their faith.

The beautiful truth is that many churches are already pursuing this vision with humility and faithfulness. Pastors, elders, deacons, small-group leaders, and volunteers invest countless hours loving and discipling others, often without recognition.

But every church can continue asking an important question:

Are we creating disciples, or are we simply creating attendees?

Imagine what could happen if every mature believer intentionally invested in one younger believer.

Imagine if every newcomer was invited into authentic relationships instead of remaining anonymous.

Imagine if every church member saw themselves not just as someone who attends church but as someone who helps build Christ’s family.

The Church has always been at its strongest when believers walk together.

The world is filled with loneliness.

The Church should be filled with belonging.

My prayer is not that churches become less focused on reaching people.

My prayer is that we become equally passionate about walking with them after they arrive.

Because attendance may introduce someone to the Church.

But discipleship helps them become more like Jesus.

A church can fill every seat in the sanctuary and still leave people feeling alone. But when believers intentionally disciple one another, no one has to walk their journey of faith in isolation.

Prayer:

Dear Jesus, thank You for the gift of Your Church. Help us to be more than people who gather once a week. Make us a family that loves deeply, serves faithfully, and walks alongside one another through every season of life. Give us eyes to notice those who feel unseen, hearts that welcome the lonely, and a renewed commitment to making disciples as Jesus commanded. May our churches be known not only for full sanctuaries but for lives transformed through authentic relationships centered on You. It’s in the mighty and precious name of Jesus we pray. ~OC

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Hope Isles: A New Beginning/ Chapter Twelve: The Road Back Home

The next morning, James found something he didn’t expect.

Peace.

Not full clarity. Not full resolution. But enough quiet in his chest to breathe without it hurting.

His father was already sitting at the kitchen table again, Bible open this time, not just resting there like yesterday.

Reading.

Slowly.

Carefully.

Like someone relearning a language they once knew by heart.

“You’re up early,” James said.

His father looked up.

“So are you.”

A faint pause.

Then, almost cautiously:

“I used to read this every morning,” his father said.

James leaned against the counter.

“What changed?”

His father didn’t dodge it.

“I let shame become louder than God.”

That honesty didn’t feel rehearsed.

It felt earned.

James nodded once, like he was filing that away somewhere deeper than conversation.

Later that morning, Rebecca returned.

She stood in the doorway for a moment, taking in the scene—father and son sharing space that had once been defined by absence.

“I see things are… still happening,” she said gently.

James gave a half-smile.

“That’s one way to put it.”

She stepped inside.

“There’s something you should know.”

James straightened slightly.

“What now?”

Rebecca hesitated.

“Your father’s condition is more serious than I originally explained.”

Silence settled immediately.

James didn’t look surprised.

Just still.

“How serious?” he asked.

Rebecca lowered her voice.

“Months. Maybe less.”

That word didn’t explode.

It just sank.

Quietly.

Deeply.

His father closed the Bible slowly.

“I told her not to sugarcoat it,” he said.

James turned toward him.

“Why?”

His father looked at him with tired eyes.

“Because I don’t have time for half-truths anymore.”

That landed harder than anything else had so far.

For the rest of the day, something shifted.

Not dramatically.

But noticeably.

James stayed.

Not just physically.

Mentally.

Emotionally.

Present in a way he hadn’t been before.

That afternoon, they walked together outside.

Slow steps.

Careful pacing.

The kind of walk that forces conversation to either surface—or disappear entirely.

“I wasn’t there when you needed me,” his father said.

James didn’t interrupt.

“But I’m here now.”

James looked ahead.

“That’s not how time works.”

“I know.”

A pause.

Then his father added:

“But it’s all I have left to offer.”

That honesty softened something in James—not the wound, but the edges around it.

Meanwhile, in Hope Isles, life kept moving.

June was refilling coffee cups at Sit Awhile.

“You think he’s coming back?” Joe asked.

June didn’t look up.

“I think he already started.”

Joe frowned.

“That’s not an answer.”

June finally smiled.

“It is in Hope Isles.”

At Hope House, Sarah stood in the doorway of James’s room.

It still looked untouched.

Like someone paused mid-life.

Ethan walked up behind her.

“You ever think he won’t come back?” he asked.

Sarah didn’t turn around.

“I try not to.”

Ethan leaned against the wall.

“I’d understand if he didn’t.”

Sarah finally looked at him.

“Would you?”

Ethan hesitated.

“No.”

That honesty surprised even him.

That night, James and his father sat outside on a small porch.

The air was cool.

Quiet.

Comfortable in a way neither of them had experienced together before.

His father spoke first.

“I used to think coming back meant fixing everything.”

James listened.

“I was wrong,” his father continued.

“Coming back just means you stop running.”

That phrase stuck in the air.

Stop running.

James repeated it silently in his mind.

Not aloud.

Not yet.

Inside the house, Rebecca packed her briefcase.

“You’re going to have to decide soon,” she said.

James turned toward her.

“I know.”

She softened slightly.

“I don’t envy you.”

“I don’t either.”

That almost made her smile.

Almost.

Later that night, James stood alone in the backyard.

The sky above him was wide.

Uninterrupted.

Somewhere out there, Hope Isles existed.

A place he once arrived as a stranger.

A place that had slowly rewritten what he thought a life could be.

And now—

it was calling him back in a way he couldn’t ignore.

Not as escape.

Not as comfort.

But as purpose.

He closed his eyes.

And for the first time since arriving here, he prayed without words.

Just silence.

Just surrender.

Just willingness.

When he returned inside, his father was waiting at the table.

“Tomorrow,” his father said quietly.

James looked at him.

“What happens tomorrow?”

His father met his eyes.

“You decide which road you’re really on.”

James didn’t answer.

Because for the first time…

he finally understood the weight of the choice.

Not between two places.

But between two versions of himself.

And somewhere in Hope Isles, a porch light stayed on a little longer than usual.

As if the town itself was waiting.

Not for his arrival.

But for his return.

To Be Continued…

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Wake Up, Christian: Why I Write About Tough Topics

One of the questions I get asked quite often is this:

“Why do you write about such tough topics?”

Sometimes the question is phrased a little differently:

“Why don’t you just stick to the nice,

encouraging, less controversial subjects?”

My answer is usually very simple:

Because that is what God has placed on my heart at that moment.

I don’t sit down and ask myself, “How can I make people uncomfortable today?” I sit down and ask, “Lord, what do You want me to say?”

Sometimes He leads me to write about hope, healing, miracles, and encouragement. Other times He leads me to write about difficult issues that many people would rather avoid.

The truth is, I believe too many Christians have become comfortable.

Far too many believers want to walk through life with blinders on, roast marshmallows, eat s’mores, and pretend everything in the world is just fine.

But it isn’t.

Look around.

People are hurting.

Families are broken.

Addictions are destroying lives.

Human trafficking continues to victimize millions.

Abuse is often ignored.

Depression and anxiety are everywhere.

Suicide rates remain alarming.

Loneliness is growing.

The world is facing some very real and very difficult challenges.

As followers of Christ, we cannot afford to pretend these issues don’t exist.

Jesus never ignored pain.

Jesus never looked away from suffering.

Jesus never avoided difficult conversations.

He stepped directly into the brokenness of humanity and brought truth, hope, healing, and redemption.

As Christians, we are called to be a bright light in a dark world. Sometimes that means encouraging people. Sometimes it means comforting people. Sometimes it means speaking difficult truths and confronting evil when we see it.

The world doesn’t need a thirty-minute sitcom version of Christianity.

The world doesn’t need believers who pretend life is perfect.

The world doesn’t need another polished sermon that makes us feel good on Sunday but leaves us spiritually empty by Monday morning.

What the world desperately needs is genuine Christianity.

People want authenticity.

They want to see believers who are honest about their struggles.

They want to see Christians who admit they don’t have it all together.

They want to see followers of Jesus who are willing to show their scars, their failures, their lessons learned, and how God carried them through.

They want to see faith that is real.

The Gospel was never meant to simply make us comfortable.

It was meant to transform us.

Growth rarely happens when we stay comfortable.

Growth happens when God challenges us.

Growth happens when we wrestle with hard truths.

Growth happens when the Holy Spirit convicts our hearts and calls us to something greater.

That is why I will continue sharing messages that challenge people.

Not because I enjoy controversy.

Not because I think I have all the answers.

But because I believe God often uses uncomfortable moments to produce spiritual growth.

If a message makes us stop and think, examine our hearts, or see the world through God’s eyes, then perhaps that discomfort is exactly what we need.

Now, don’t worry—I won’t write only about difficult subjects.

I’ll still sprinkle in plenty of encouraging posts about faith, hope, healing, miracles, worship, and God’s goodness.

After all, encouragement is important too.

But I will not shy away from the hard conversations when God places them on my heart.

The Church doesn’t need less truth.

The Church doesn’t need less courage.

The Church doesn’t need less conviction.

The Church needs believers who are awake, engaged, and willing to shine the light of Christ wherever darkness exists.

So my encouragement today is simple:

Wake up.

Look around.

Pray.

Pay attention.

Love people.

Speak truth.

Show grace.

Confront evil.

Offer hope.

And above all else, point people to Jesus.

Because this world doesn’t need comfortable Christianity.

It needs Christians who are willing to follow Jesus wherever He leads—even when the conversation gets difficult. ~OC

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Hope Isles: A New Beginning Chapter 4: The Man Across The Street

The porch light cast a warm glow across the front steps of the Wilson house.

James and Sarah sat quietly after their prayer.

For the first time in a long while, Sarah felt a sense of peace.

Not because all her problems had disappeared.

They hadn’t.

Not because every question had been answered.

They hadn’t.

But because hope had begun to return.

Eventually Sarah stood.

“Thank you.”

James smiled.

“You’re welcome.”

She headed inside, and James remained on the porch for a few minutes longer.

As he glanced across the street, he noticed movement.

A man standing near a large oak tree.

The man seemed startled when their eyes met.

Then he turned and walked away.

James frowned slightly.

Not out of fear.

Just curiosity.

The next morning, Hope Isles was already buzzing.

At the Sit Awhile Diner, June was delivering 

plates of pancakes while Joe the mailman occupied his usual seat.

“You know,” Joe said, stirring his coffee, “I think James might be the busiest unemployed person I’ve ever seen.”

June laughed.

“Who says he’s unemployed?”

Joe paused.

“Good question.”

The diner bell jingled.

As if summoned by the conversation itself, James walked inside.

“Speak of the bicycle guy,” June said.

“I’m beginning to regret buying that bicycle.”

“No you’re not.”

“Fair point.”

June handed him a menu.

“You eating?”

“Always.”

“Good answer.”

As James settled into his booth, Joe slid across from him.

“I’ve got a question.”

“Only one?”

“For now.”

Joe leaned forward.

“What do you actually do?”

James smiled.

“I wondered when someone would ask.”

“And?”

“I restore old furniture.”

Joe blinked.

“Furniture?”

“Furniture.”

“You bought a seven-bedroom house by fixing furniture?”

“Among other things.”

“What other things?”

James grinned.

“That’s enough questions for one breakfast.”

June laughed so hard she nearly spilled coffee.

After breakfast, James headed toward the harbor.

Along the way he stopped to greet people.

Mrs. Evelyn was watering flowers.

Walter the fisherman was repairing nets.

Children rode bicycles down Main Street.

Hope Isles wasn’t a perfect town.

But it was a good town.

The kind of place where people still waved.

The kind of place where neighbors knew one another.

The kind of place that felt increasingly like home.

As he reached the harbor, he noticed something familiar.

The same man he had seen across the street the night before.

This time the man wasn’t hiding.

He sat alone on a bench overlooking the water.

James walked over.

“Beautiful morning.”

The man looked up.

“It is.”

Mind if I sit?”

“Free country.”

James sat down.

For several moments, neither spoke.

Finally, the man sighed.

“You’re James.”

“That’s right.”

“I thought so.”

James studied him carefully.

The man looked tired.

Not physically.

Emotionally.

Like someone carrying regrets.

“My name is David.”

“Nice to meet you.”

David nodded.

Then he stared out at the water.

“No, it isn’t.”

James raised an eyebrow.

“Why would you say that?”

David rubbed his hands together nervously.

Because I’ve spent two days trying to figure out how to talk to you.”

Now James was interested.

“About what?”

David swallowed hard.

“The Wilson house.”

Meanwhile, at the church office, Pastor Timothy sat behind his desk reviewing notes for Sunday’s sermon.

A knock sounded on the door.

“Come in.”

Sarah stepped inside.i

“Good morning, Pastor.”

“Sarah.”

He smiled warmly.

“How are you doing?”

She sat down.

“Better.”

“That’s good to hear.”

For a moment she looked uncertain.

Then she asked,

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Why does James help people?”

Pastor Timothy leaned back.

“What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t know me.”

The pastor nodded.

“No, he doesn’t.”

“So why trust me?”

A gentle smile crossed his face.

“Because someone trusted him.”

Sarah remembered hearing James say something similar.

“Do you know his story?”

Pastor Timothy looked toward the window.

“I know parts of it.”

“Will he ever tell me?”

“When he’s ready.”

Back at the harbor, David finally spoke.

“My parents owned the Wilson house before the Wilson family.”

James listened carefully.

“I grew up there.”

Something flickered across David’s face.

A mixture of sadness and nostalgia.

“When my father died, I left town.”

“Why?”

“I was angry.”

David stared at the waves.

“At God. At life. At everything.”

James said nothing.

Sometimes silence was the best gift.

David continued.

“I made a lot of mistakes.”

His voice cracked slightly.

“More than I care to count.”

The harbor breeze carried the words away.

“I came back last week.”

“And?”

David laughed bitterly.

“And I found out someone else owns my childhood home.”

James nodded.

“That must be difficult.”

“It is.”

For several moments neither man spoke.

Then David looked directly at James.

“I came to see if you were taking care of it.”

James smiled.

“And?”

David’s eyes softened.

“My mother would’ve liked you.”

The words seemed to surprise even David himself.

Then he reached into his jacket pocket.

“There is something else.”

He handed James an old brass key.

Worn by time.

Heavy in the hand.

James turned it over.

“What is it?”

David looked toward the distant Wilson house.

“My father hid something on that property years ago.”

James blinked.

“What kind of something?”

David smiled faintly.

“That’s the interesting part.”

The old man stood.

And for the first time since they’d met, there was a spark of hope in his eyes.

“I honestly don’t know.”

James stared at the mysterious key.

Suddenly, the old Wilson house seemed to hold more than empty bedrooms and future dreams.

Somewhere on the property…

A secret had been waiting for years.

And now, it appeared to be waiting for him.

To Be Continued…

~OC

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SURRENDER

Here is a acronym I created for the word S.U.R.R.E.N.D.E.R.

S – Seek God first in all things
U – Understand that His ways are higher than ours
R – Rest in His promises during every season
R – Rely on His strength instead of your own
E – Embrace His grace and mercy each day
N – Nurture your faith through prayer and Scripture
D – Deny yourself and take up your cross daily
E – Encourage others with the love of Christ
R – Remain faithful until the end

Faith Journey Reflection:

SURRENDER is not giving up—it is giving everything over to God. It is seeking Him, trusting Him, relying on His strength, and remaining faithful as He leads us step by step on our journey of faith.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths.” ~ Proverbs 3:5-6 

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Rest Is Not Weakness

Today’s a new day! We live in a world that constantly tells us to do more, achieve more, produce more, and stay busy every moment of every day. Culture often promotes the idea that rest is for the weak and that if we slow down, we will somehow fall behind. Yet that mindset is not only unhealthy—it is unbiblical.

God never designed us to run endlessly without pause. From the very beginning, He established the principle of rest. Even after creation, God rested, not because He was tired, but because He was modeling a rhythm that humanity would need.

One of the enemy’s favorite strategies is not always to get us to quit. Sometimes he knows he cannot stop us, so he convinces us to overdo it. He pushes us to take on more than God intended, to carry burdens we were never meant to carry, and to keep running at a pace that eventually leads to exhaustion.

The danger is that by the time we arrive at the destination we have been striving toward, we are too tired, discouraged, or burned out to enjoy the blessings waiting there. We may reach the goal but lack the strength to reap its benefits.

That is why moments of pause are so important. Rest is not wasted time. It is preparation time. It is in those quiet moments that God refreshes our spirits, renews our minds, and restores our strength. Rest allows us to hear His voice more clearly and regain the perspective we often lose in the busyness of life.

The Christian life was never intended to be a sprint. It is a marathon. Scripture repeatedly calls believers to endure, to remain faithful, and to finish the race. Endurance requires strength, and strength requires renewal.

Jesus Himself often withdrew from the crowds to pray and spend time with the Father. If the Son of God prioritized rest and renewal, how much more should we?

So if you have been feeling guilty for slowing down, don’t. Resting is not weakness. It is wisdom. It is recognizing that you are human and that your strength ultimately comes from God.

Take time to pause. Take time to pray. Take time to recharge. The journey ahead is long, and God wants you to finish well.

Remember: this life is a marathon, not a sprint. Rest today so you can continue running tomorrow.

“Come to Me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” — Matthew 11:28

I hope this encourages those who have been running hard for a long season and need permission to embrace God’s gift of rest. ~OC

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If The Twelve Disciples Applied For Church Membership Today

“Think about this for a moment: the twelve disciples of Jesus could not pass a background check to get into most churches today.”

That statement may sound shocking at first, but take a closer look at the men Jesus chose to change the world.

Peter was impulsive and publicly denied Christ three times.

James and John earned the nickname “Sons of Thunder” because of their fiery tempers and desire to call down judgment on people.

Matthew was a tax collector, viewed by many as a traitor and a sinner.

Thomas struggled with doubt.

Simon the Zealot was associated with a radical political movement.

And Judas would eventually betray Jesus.

If these men submitted applications to many modern churches, some would likely be rejected before ever making it through the front door.

Yet these are the very people Jesus chose.

Jesus did not build His ministry around people with perfect resumes. He built it around people whose lives would be transformed by grace.

The Gospel has never been about finding people who have it all together. It has always been about redeeming people who know they don’t.

Too often, we can be tempted to evaluate people based on their past failures, mistakes, addictions, broken relationships, or reputation. We forget that every saint has a past and every sinner has a future when Christ enters the story.

The church was never meant to be a museum displaying perfect people. It was meant to be a hospital where broken people encounter the healing power of Jesus.

Imagine if Jesus had looked at Peter’s denial before calling him. Imagine if He had focused on Thomas’ doubt instead of his potential. Imagine if He had rejected Matthew because of his profession.

The early church would have looked very different.

Thankfully, Jesus sees beyond our failures. He sees who we can become when His grace takes hold of our lives.

This doesn’t mean sin doesn’t matter. It doesn’t mean character is unimportant. Transformation is real, and discipleship matters deeply. But we must remember that transformation is often a process, not an instant event.

The disciples were not finished products when Jesus called them. They were works in progress.

So are we.

So is everyone who will walk through your church doors. 

The next time you encounter someone whose past makes you uncomfortable, remember the men Jesus chose. Remember that the kingdom of God has always been built by redeemed sinners who encountered extraordinary grace.

After all, if God can use fishermen, doubters, hotheads, tax collectors, and former rebels to turn the world upside down, He can certainly use us.

The church should never become a place where people are judged solely by where they have been. It should be a place where people discover who they can become through Jesus Christ.

Grace saw something in the disciples that the world could not see.

May we learn to see people the same way. ~OC

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