Dear Christians, Please Stop the Hate

Dear Christians,

Please stop the hate.

We live in a world that desperately needs Jesus, but sometimes the loudest voices claiming to represent Him are not reflecting Him at all.

We talk about Jesus, but do we love like Jesus?

We quote Scripture, but do we live it?

We defend our beliefs, but do we remember the words Jesus actually spoke?

The red letters of the Bible call us to love our enemies, pray for those who hurt us, forgive, show mercy, care for the hurting, welcome the stranger, serve the least of these, and love our neighbors as ourselves.

That isn’t weakness.

That is Christianity.

Jesus didn’t tell us to win every argument. He told us to love one another.

He didn’t tell us to build walls around ourselves. He told us to go and make disciples.

He didn’t tell us to hate people who disagree with us. He showed us how to love people who were different from Him.

So, dear Christians, let’s stop using Jesus as a weapon and start following Jesus as our Savior.

Let’s put down the hate.

Let’s put down the outrage.

Let’s put down the judgment.

And let’s pick up love, grace, mercy, compassion, forgiveness and truth.

Don’t just wear the name Christian. Live like Christ.

The world doesn’t need more people shouting about Jesus.

The world needs more people who actually live like Jesus.

“By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” — John 13:35

Love like Jesus.
Serve like Jesus.
Forgive like Jesus.
Live like Jesus.

That’s what the red letters are calling us to do. ~OC

Remembering President Jimmy Carter: A Life of Character and Service

Today, October 1, 2026, would have been President Jimmy Carter’s 102nd birthday.

Today, we pause to remember a man who represented something that seems increasingly rare in American public life: character, integrity, humility, humanity, and a genuine commitment to serving others.

James Earl Carter Jr. was born on October 1, 1924, in Plains, Georgia. He would go on to become the 39th President of the United States, serving from 1977 to 1981. But his life was about far more than the four years he spent in the White House.

He believed that public service was supposed to be about people—not power.

He believed leadership carried responsibility.

He believed faith should be lived, not simply spoken.

And he believed that every human being possessed dignity and deserved to be treated with compassion.

Those values shaped his life long before the presidency and continued long after he left Washington.

A President From Plains

There was something remarkable about Jimmy Carter’s connection to Plains, Georgia.

He came from a small community, became governor of Georgia, became President of the United States, and then returned home.

He never seemed to believe that occupying the highest office in the land made him more important than the people around him.

After leaving the White House, President Carter and Rosalynn Carter founded The Carter Center in 1982, dedicating themselves to advancing peace, democracy, human rights, health, and humanitarian work around the world.

His post-presidential life became one of the most extraordinary chapters of his story.

He worked for peace.

He fought disease.

He monitored elections.

He advocated for human rights.

He helped build homes through Habitat for Humanity.

He taught Sunday school.

And he continued serving others when there was absolutely no political office left to win.

That matters.

Character When Nobody Is Watching

Perhaps one of the greatest lessons from Jimmy Carter’s life is that character is who you are when the cameras aren’t rolling.

Presidents come and go.

Political parties change.

Campaign slogans disappear.

Headlines fade.

But character remains.

President Carter demonstrated that leadership does not require constant outrage, personal attacks, or a hunger for attention.

It can look like humility.

It can look like listening.

It can look like keeping your word.

It can look like serving people who can do absolutely nothing for you in return.

It can look like choosing peace when division would be easier.

It can look like standing up for human rights even when doing so is politically difficult.

The Carter Center describes his life’s work in three simple words:

Wage peace. Fight disease. Build hope.

What a legacy.

What Washington Could Learn

And perhaps that is why remembering Jimmy Carter feels especially meaningful today.

Our politics can often seem consumed by division, anger, tribalism, personal ambition, and the endless pursuit of power.

Washington can sometimes feel very far removed from the people who are struggling to pay their bills, raise their families, care for aging parents, find affordable housing, afford healthcare, or simply make it through another difficult day.

That is why character still matters.

Integrity still matters.

Humility still matters.

Compassion still matters.

Leadership still matters.

And public service should still mean service to the public.

Jimmy Carter wasn’t perfect. No president is.

His presidency had successes, challenges, and controversies, just like every administration in American history.

But remembering him today isn’t about pretending history was perfect.

It is about recognizing the qualities he brought to public service and the example he continued to demonstrate for decades afterward.

In 2002, Carter received the Nobel Peace Prize for his decades of work pursuing peaceful solutions to conflicts, advancing democracy and human rights, and promoting economic and social development.

His life ultimately became bigger than a presidency.

A Legacy Bigger Than Politics

President Jimmy Carter died on December 29, 2024, at the age of 100, at his home in Plains, Georgia.

But his story didn’t end there.

His example continues.

His work continues through The Carter Center.

His words continue to challenge us.

His life continues to remind us that leadership doesn’t have to be about self-promotion.

It can be about service.

It can be about sacrifice.

It can be about faith.

It can be about peace.

It can be about human dignity.

And it can be about leaving the world a little better than you found it.

Today, I think about Plains, Georgia.

I think about the little hometown that produced a man who would become the 39th President of the United States.

I think about President Carter and his beloved Rosalynn.

I think about Maranatha Baptist Church.

I think about the Carter Center.

And I think about a simple question for all of us:

What kind of legacy are we leaving behind?

Because someday the political arguments will be forgotten.

The campaign signs will be gone.

The television commercials will be forgotten.

The social-media battles will disappear.

But how we treated people?

That will matter.

How we served?

That will matter.

Whether we showed compassion?

That will matter.

Whether we stood for peace, justice, dignity, and humanity?

That will matter.

Today, we celebrate the life and legacy of President Jimmy Carter—the 39th President of the United States, a son of Plains, Georgia, a husband, a public servant, a humanitarian, a man of faith, and a lifelong advocate for peace and human dignity.

Happy 102nd birthday, Mr. President.

Thank you for reminding America that leadership can still be about character over ego, service over power, humility over fame, and humanity over division.

May we never stop learning from your example. Happy Birthday President Carter. ~OC

Grace For The Imperfect

Today’s a new day!

We live in a world that seems obsessed with perfection.

Perfect families.
Perfect marriages.
Perfect bodies.
Perfect careers.
Perfect churches.
Perfect social media feeds.

But here’s the problem:

None of us are perfect.

Not even close.

We all have scars people can’t see. We all carry stories we don’t always tell. We have made mistakes we wish we could undo. We’ve said things we wish we could take back. We’ve disappointed people we love—and we’ve been disappointed by people we trusted.

Sometimes we are our own harshest critics.

And sometimes, unfortunately, Christians can be the harshest critics of one another.

We forget that the person sitting next to us in church may be fighting a battle we know absolutely nothing about.

The person who seems distant may be hurting.

The person who keeps making mistakes may be struggling to get back on their feet.

The person who doesn’t have their life together may simply need someone to remind them that they are loved.

And the person who doesn’t look, think, believe, or live exactly like we do is still a person created in the image of God.

Maybe it’s time we gave each other a little more grace.

Grace doesn’t mean pretending that wrong is right.

Grace doesn’t mean ignoring sin, refusing accountability, or avoiding difficult conversations.

Grace means remembering that people are more than their worst moment.

It means correcting without condemning.

It means speaking truth without destroying the person who needs to hear it.

It means leaving room for repentance, growth, healing, and second chances.

Jesus didn’t wait for people to become perfect before He loved them.

He met people in their mess.

He sat with sinners.

He touched the untouchable.

He forgave the broken.

He welcomed the rejected.

He restored people who had failed.

And ultimately, He went to the cross for imperfect people like you and me.

That’s grace.

I think sometimes we forget just how much grace we ourselves have received.

We want grace when we’re struggling, but judgment when someone else is struggling.

We want understanding when we make a mistake, but consequences when someone else makes one.

We want people to remember our intentions while we judge someone else by their actions.

We want our past forgiven while holding someone else’s past against them.

But the Gospel calls us to something different.

“Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.” — Ephesians 4:32

What if we became people who were known for grace?

What if our homes became places where people could be honest about their struggles without immediately being judged?

What if our churches became places where broken people felt safe enough to say, “I’m not okay”?

What if instead of asking, “What’s wrong with you?” we sometimes asked, “What happened to you, and how can I walk with you through it?”

What if we stopped expecting everyone to have it all together?

Because here’s the truth:

We’re all works in progress.

God isn’t finished with me.

God isn’t finished with you.

And God certainly isn’t finished with the person you may be tempted to write off.

So give grace.

Give grace to the person who is learning.

Give grace to the person who is grieving.

Give grace to the person who is struggling.

Give grace to the person who failed.

Give grace to the person who is trying again.

Give grace to yourself.

And when accountability is necessary, let it be wrapped in love.

When correction is necessary, let it be offered with humility.

When someone falls, don’t be so quick to celebrate their failure.

Reach down and help them stand.

Because someday, you may be the one who needs someone else’s hand.

None of us are perfect.

We’re just people trying to navigate this crazy, beautiful journey called life while desperately needing the grace of God.

So let’s stop demanding perfection from imperfect people.

Let’s love a little deeper.

Listen a little longer.

Judge a little slower.

Forgive a little quicker.

And extend the same grace to others that we desperately need from God ourselves.

Grace doesn’t say, “You are perfect.”

Grace says,

“You are loved while you’re still becoming.”

And maybe that’s exactly what the world needs a little more of right now.

Grace for the imperfect.

Because we’re all imperfect.

And we’re all in need of grace. ~OC

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” — 2 Corinthians 12:9

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

More Than A Cancer Support Group

Sometimes God brings people into our lives at the exact moment we need them most.

A Christian cancer support group may begin as a room full of strangers—people carrying different diagnoses, different stories, different fears, and different journeys. But somewhere along the way, something beautiful happens.

The group becomes a family.

We begin by sharing our stories, but eventually we begin sharing our lives. We learn each other’s names, celebrate the good news, sit together through the hard news, and remember the things that matter when someone else doesn’t have the strength to remember them.

We pray for one another.

Not just once, but again and again.

When someone is facing surgery, we pray.
When the scan results are coming, we pray.
When treatment becomes exhausting, we pray.
When fear creeps in, we pray.
When someone receives good news, we celebrate and thank God together.
And when someone doesn’t know what to say anymore, sometimes we simply sit beside them and remind them, “You don’t have to walk this road alone.”

Cancer can take a lot from a person, but it doesn’t have to take away hope.

There is something powerful about knowing that someone is lifting your name before God when you’re too tired to pray for yourself. There is strength in receiving a text that simply says, “I’m praying for you today.” There is comfort in knowing that when the road gets difficult, there are people who will walk beside you rather than walk away.

We may have met because of cancer, but cancer isn’t what defines this family.

Faith does.
Love does.
Prayer does.
Hope does.
Jesus does.

We hold each other up when someone is weak. We remind each other of God’s promises when circumstances become overwhelming. We cry together, laugh together, celebrate together, grieve together, and keep showing up for one another.

Because that’s what family does.

We don’t promise that the journey will always be easy. We don’t pretend that every prayer will be answered the way we hoped. But we can promise something just as important:

No one has to face the journey alone.

We will keep praying.
We will keep encouraging.
We will keep believing.
We will keep showing up.

And when one of us doesn’t have enough strength to stand, the rest of us will stand with them.

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

What started as a cancer support group has become something much more beautiful.

It has become family.

And family holds each other up.

Closing Prayer:

Dear Jesus, 

Thank You for bringing us together and for turning this group into a family of faith, love, encouragement, and prayer.

Thank You for every person here and for every story represented in this room. You know every diagnosis, every treatment, every fear, every unanswered question, and every prayer that has been whispered through tears.

Lord, give us strength when we are weak, peace when we are afraid, and hope when the road feels long. Surround each person with Your presence and remind us that we are never walking alone.

Help us to continue carrying one another’s burdens. Give us compassionate hearts, listening ears, encouraging words, and hands that are always willing to help. When one of us is discouraged, let the rest of us lift them up. When one of us rejoices, let us rejoice together. When one of us hurts, let us stand close and pray.

We ask for healing, comfort, wisdom for doctors and caregivers, strength for families, and peace that only You can provide.

Above all, help us keep our eyes on You. May our faith grow stronger through every season, and may our lives be a testimony of Your love and faithfulness.

Thank You for this family You have created among us. May we continue to love one another, pray for one another, and hold one another up until the day we see Your promises fulfilled.

In the precious,  powerful and matchless name of Jesus, we pray. Amen. ~OC

The Most Important Parks of the Bible Don’t Have a Comma

Sometimes the most important parts of the Bible are the simplest.

Love God.
Love your neighbor.

And maybe we have spent far too much time trying to add a comma where Jesus never put one.

Love your neighbor, unless…

Unless they look different than you.

Unless they come from another country.

Unless they speak another language.

Unless they worship differently.

Unless they vote differently.

Unless they don’t believe what you believe.

Unless they have a different political party attached to their name.

Unless they are poor.

Unless they are struggling.

Unless they have made mistakes.

Unless they don’t fit neatly into your definition of who deserves love.

But Jesus didn’t give us a list of exceptions.

When Jesus was asked which commandment was the greatest, He pointed us toward loving God and loving our neighbor. And when someone tried to narrow down exactly who qualified as a neighbor, Jesus responded with the story of the Good Samaritan.

That wasn’t an accident.

The Samaritan was someone the religious people of Jesus’ day would have been tempted to look down upon. Yet Jesus made him the example of what loving a neighbor looks like.

That’s uncomfortable.

Because Jesus wasn’t asking us to love only the people who are easy to love.

He was asking us to love people.

Period.

Our neighbor isn’t defined by race, nationality, political party, socioeconomic status, immigration status, denomination, neighborhood, or whether they agree with us.

Our neighbor is our neighbor.

There is no comma.

There is no footnote.

There is no hidden exception clause.

And maybe that’s one of the greatest challenges facing the Church today.

We have become incredibly good at identifying who is different from us and incredibly comfortable deciding who deserves our compassion.

But Jesus keeps pulling us back to something much simpler:

Love.

Feed the hungry.

Welcome the stranger.

Care for the sick.

Defend the vulnerable.

Visit the lonely.

Help the hurting.

Forgive.

Show mercy.

And love your neighbor.

Not because they earned it.

Not because they agree with you.

Not because they look like you.

Not because they vote like you.

But because they bear the image of God.

So maybe before we ask, “Who is my neighbor?”

We should ask:

“Am I willing to love the neighbor Jesus has placed in front of me?”

Because the command isn’t:

Love your neighbor, unless…

It’s simply:

Love your neighbor.

No comma.

No conditions.

No exceptions.

Just Jesus.

And if we truly want to change the world, maybe we start by loving the person standing right in front of us.

Love God. Love people. Be the hands and feet of Jesus.

That’s the Gospel without the comma. ~OC

What News Are Your Feet Bringing?

In the New Testament, there is a section of the book of Romans traditionally understood as a letter written by the apostle Paul to followers of Jesus gathered in house churches in first-century Rome.

Paul is talking about the importance of sharing the Gospel—the “good news.” And near the end of this section, he quotes the Old Testament prophet Isaiah:

And how are they to preach unless they are sent? As it is written, “How beautiful are the feet of those who preach the good news!” ~Romans 10:15

Think about that for a moment.

How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news.

What a beautiful picture.

Paul wasn’t talking about beautiful shoes. He wasn’t talking about polished feet or perfect appearances. He was talking about people who carry good news with them wherever they go.

And I wonder:

What kind of news are my feet bringing?

What happens when I walk into a room?

What happens when I sit down beside someone who is hurting?

What happens when I encounter someone who sees the world differently than I do?

What happens when I open my phone and start typing?

Because our feet don’t just take us from one physical location to another.

In a very real sense, we carry something with us.

We carry our words.

We carry our attitudes.

We carry our encouragement—or our discouragement.

We carry compassion—or judgment.

We carry hope—or fear.

And today, we carry all of that into the world through our social-media feeds.

We live in an age where bad news is available 24 hours a day.

Another alarming headline.

Another disturbing video.

Another political argument.

Another tragedy.

Another outrage.

Another reason to be angry.

Another reason to be afraid.

Another reason to divide ourselves into “us” and “them.”

And yes, we should pay attention to what is happening in the world. Ignoring suffering doesn’t make it disappear. We should care about injustice. We should care about our communities. We should care about people who are hurting.

But there is something else we should remember:

We are not powerless.

Take away the trending stories.

Take away the alarming updates.

Take away the endless arguments.

Take away the disturbing realities that fill our screens.

We are still sentient human beings with choices to make.

We still have time.

We still have resources.

We still have energy.

We still have words.

We still have opportunities.

We still have people around us who need someone to remind them that they matter.

And we still get to decide what kind of news our feet bring.

Maybe the good news today is a phone call to someone who feels forgotten.

Maybe it’s buying groceries for a neighbor who is struggling.

Maybe it’s sitting quietly with someone who doesn’t need an answer—they just need someone to stay.

Maybe it’s forgiving someone.

Maybe it’s listening before responding.

Maybe it’s choosing not to share that inflammatory post.

Maybe it’s encouraging someone who is ready to give up.

Maybe it’s welcoming the person everyone else has overlooked.

Maybe it’s being kind to the cashier, the server, the stranger, the immigrant, the lonely neighbor, the person sitting alone at church, or the person who doesn’t believe what you believe.

Maybe the good news isn’t something we post.

Maybe it’s something we become.

Our world doesn’t need more people adding gasoline to every fire.

It needs people willing to carry water.

It needs people willing to walk into difficult places and bring compassion.

It needs people willing to speak truth without losing love.

It needs people willing to disagree without dehumanizing.

It needs people who can look at the person in front of them and remember:

There is a human being here.

And for those of us who follow Jesus, perhaps this is part of what it means to live out the Gospel.

Not merely talking about good news.

Bringing good news.

Not merely posting Scripture.

Living Scripture.

Not merely telling people that God loves them.

Showing them what love looks like.

Romans 10:15 asks us to imagine beautiful feet—the feet of people who carry good news into the world.

So before we ask what the world is bringing to us today, perhaps we should ask a different question:

What are we bringing to the world?

What news will our feet carry into our homes?

What news will they carry into our workplaces?

What news will they carry into our churches?

What news will they carry into our neighborhoods?

And what news will they carry onto our social-media pages?

We may not be able to control every headline.

We may not be able to fix every problem.

We may not be able to change the entire world.

But we can choose what we carry into the little corner of the world where God has placed us today.

So go.

Walk into someone’s darkness carrying a little light.

Walk into someone’s loneliness carrying companionship.

Walk into someone’s fear carrying courage.

Walk into someone’s grief carrying presence.

Walk into someone’s anger carrying peace.

Walk into someone’s hopelessness carrying hope.

And if you follow Jesus, carry His love with you.

Because perhaps the question isn’t simply whether our feet are beautiful.

Perhaps the real question is:

What kind of news are our feet carrying?

May our feet carry good news.

May our words carry grace.

May our hands carry compassion.

May our lives carry hope.

And may the people we encounter today be able to say:

“I am glad you showed up.” ~OC

What About The People?

There is something I keep coming back to, and I believe we need to ask ourselves some hard questions.

What about the people?

People are struggling to put food on the table.

Families are feeling the pain at the gas pump. Gas prices have risen substantially this year, with the national average reaching levels above $4 a gallon amid the continuing disruption of global oil markets.

America is involved in an ongoing war with Iran—one that has already cost American lives and continues to affect energy markets and the global economy.

And healthcare?

For millions of Americans, affordable healthcare remains out of reach. The Census Bureau reports that 26.7 million Americans—7.9% of the population—were uninsured for the entire year in 2025.

Meanwhile, the current administration is pursuing major construction and other high-profile projects in Washington, including a proposed $400 million White House ballroom complex and plans involving a proposed triumphal arch.

And that’s where I have to ask:

What about the people?

What about the mother standing in the grocery store trying to figure out what she can afford?

What about the father watching the gas pump climb higher and wondering which bill he will have to postpone?

What about the senior citizen choosing between medication and groceries?

What about the person who is sick but afraid to seek medical care because of the cost?

What about the military families worrying about loved ones serving in a war zone?

What about the Americans who are working hard every day and still struggling to make ends meet?

These aren’t abstract political issues.

These are human beings.

I believe government should never lose sight of the people it exists to serve.

And that’s why I struggle when it appears that enormous buildings, monuments, renovations, and political legacy projects can command so much attention while ordinary Americans are struggling with basic necessities.

There is nothing inherently wrong with building something beautiful.

There is nothing inherently wrong with investing in infrastructure.

There is nothing inherently wrong with having ambitious national projects.

But there is something wrong when the people begin to feel forgotten.

Leadership, in my view, isn’t measured by the size of a building.

It isn’t measured by how impressive a project looks.

It isn’t measured by how much attention a president or politician receives.

Leadership is ultimately about people.

It’s about serving.

It’s about listening.

It’s about protecting.

It’s about making difficult decisions with the wellbeing of the country—not personal legacy—at the center.

And that’s why I believe Americans have a responsibility to pay attention.

Not just Republicans.

Not just Democrats.

Not conservatives.

Not liberals.

All of us.

We cannot afford to treat politics like a football game where we automatically defend our team regardless of what happens on the field.

Our allegiance to a political party should never be greater than our commitment to truth, integrity, our neighbors, and the wellbeing of our country.

So as we approach the November elections, please do your homework.

Don’t simply believe what someone posts on Facebook.

Don’t let a television commercial make your decision.

Don’t listen to only the people who already agree with you.

Look at the candidates.

Look at their records.

Read their policies.

Examine the spending.

Check the claims.

Look at what has actually happened—not just what someone promises will happen.

Listen to opposing viewpoints.

Ask hard questions.

And then—

pray.

Pray for wisdom.

Pray for discernment.

Pray for our country.

Pray for our military.

Pray for our communities.

Pray for the people who will be elected.

And perhaps most importantly, pray for ourselves.

Pray that we won’t be motivated by hatred.

Pray that we won’t be controlled by fear.

Pray that we won’t become so politically tribal that we can’t recognize truth when it comes from someone we disagree with.

Because the November election isn’t simply about political parties.

It’s about choices.

It’s about accountability.

It’s about the direction our communities and our country take.

And we each have a responsibility to participate.

So don’t just complain.

Learn.

Listen.

Question.

Verify.

Pray.

And vote.

Don’t vote because I told you how to vote.

Don’t vote because your neighbor told you how to vote.

Don’t vote because a political party told you how to vote.

Vote after you’ve done the work.

Because democracy requires more than passionate opinions.

It requires informed citizens.

And regardless of where you stand politically, I hope we can agree on one thing:

The American people should never become an afterthought.

People matter.

Families matter.

Our seniors matter.

Our children matter.

Our veterans matter.

Our sick and vulnerable neighbors matter.

And the people who are struggling today matter.

What about the people?

That’s the question I hope every candidate—and every voter—will be willing to answer. ~OC

A Prayer For Healing

Dear Jesus,

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.

~OC

I’m Curious

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 God while 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 to love 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?

Not just on Sunday.

Not just in our churches.

Not just when it benefits us.

But everywhere.

Maybe that’s where the real change begins. ~OC

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