A Love Connection

Today’s a new day! 

Yesterday, Laura and I drove up to North Florida. If you have lived in Florida or parts of the South, you know what time of season it is. Yes, it’s love bug season. Those little insects can be a nuisance, but what if we looked at these annoying little bugs a little closer. Maybe there is a lesson to be learned. 

Every year in parts of the South, love bugs show up in swarms—small, unassuming insects that spend much of their short lives attached to one another. They’re not flashy or impressive, and to most people they’re just a seasonal nuisance. But if you pause long enough to notice, there’s something quietly symbolic about them. Love bugs are almost always seen in pairs, joined together, moving as one. In a simple, created way, they reflect a picture of connection, persistence, and a kind of devoted closeness that’s hard to ignore.

That image can point us to something far deeper—the Gospel of Jesus Christ. The Gospel tells the story of a God who didn’t remain distant, but chose to draw near to us, to bind Himself to humanity through Jesus. Where love bugs cling together for a season, Jesus stepped into our world and held fast to us even through suffering, rejection, and the cross. Scripture reminds us that nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ—not failure, not pain, not even death. That’s a far stronger bond than anything we see in nature.

There’s also something humbling about love bugs. They don’t try to stand out or make a name for themselves—they simply live out what they were created to do. In the same way, the Gospel calls us to a life not centered on self-promotion, but on abiding in Christ and walking in love. Jesus said that people would recognize His followers by their love, not by their status or accomplishments. When we remain “connected” to Him, like branches to a vine, our lives begin to reflect His grace, patience, and mercy to those around us.

So the next time you see those tiny insects paired together, maybe it’s more than just a seasonal inconvenience. Maybe it’s a small reminder of a greater truth: that we were created for connection—first with God, and then with one another. And through the Gospel, Jesus has made a way for that connection to be restored, secured, and sustained forever. ~OC

Not A Coincidence

Today’s a new day!

There are moments in life when you look back and wonder how you made it through. The nights that felt endless, the heartbreak that cut deeper than words, the battles you thought would surely take you out—but somehow, you’re still here. It’s easy to chalk it up to luck, coincidence, or sheer willpower. But the truth runs deeper than that. You survived everything that was meant to destroy you, and that’s not a coincidence—that was Jesus. In the middle of the chaos, when you couldn’t see a way forward, He was already making one. When you were too weak to stand, He was carrying you. Even when you didn’t recognize His hand, His presence never left your side.

Jesus doesn’t just show up in the good moments; He proves Himself in the fire. Every trial you walked through and came out of wasn’t just something you endured—it was something He brought you through. The pain didn’t have the final say. The enemy didn’t win. Your story didn’t end there. What was meant to break you became part of the testimony that now defines you. So when doubt tries to creep in and tell you that you’re alone or forgotten, remember your own history. Look at the evidence of grace all over your life. You’re still standing, still breathing, still moving forward—and that’s all the proof you need. Jesus has been faithful before, and He will be faithful again. ~OC

We Need More Mr. Rogers’

Today’s a new day!

There was something quietly powerful about Fred Rogers. He didn’t need to raise his voice to be heard, didn’t rely on insults to make a point, and never tried to win by tearing someone else down. In a world that often feels louder, harsher, and quicker to judge, his gentle way of speaking truth with kindness stands out more than ever. The neighborhoods he built on Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood weren’t just for children—they were a blueprint for how we might treat one another as adults. He reminded us that every person has value, that feelings are worth acknowledging, and that kindness is not weakness—it’s strength under control.

Contrast that with the culture we often see today, where bullying has been repackaged as confidence and cruelty gets disguised as honesty. Whether it shows up in schools, online spaces, or even public leadership, the tone can feel more like a battleground than a community. But the truth is, tearing people down has never built anything lasting. The world doesn’t need more voices shouting over each other—it needs more people willing to listen, to care, and to choose empathy over ego. Imagine what would happen if we measured success not by how many people we outshine, but by how many we lift up.

Maybe the call is simpler than we think. Be a little more patient. Speak a little more gently. Choose to understand before reacting. Those aren’t outdated ideals—they’re desperately needed ones. The legacy of Fred Rogers isn’t just something to admire from a distance; it’s something to live out in small, daily decisions. Because in the end, the world changes not through louder arguments, but through quieter acts of love. ~OC

Today’s Prayer (English Version)

Dear Jesus, I begin my day with You. Use me to bring encouragement to everyone I encounter. May my words and actions reflect Your love, wisdom, and compassion in all that I do. Give me strength to be kind, even to those I disagree with, and help me respond with grace instead of pride. May judgment not touch my heart, mind, or lips, but instead fill me with understanding and peace. Use me this day, Oh Lord, as a vessel of Your light and goodness. Guide my steps, order my thoughts, and let everything I do bring glory to You. Amen.

A Prayer To Live Out What We Profess

Dear Jesus, 

We speak Your name easily,
but too often we resist Your way.

You told us to love our enemies,
yet we hold on to anger.
You told us to forgive,
yet we keep score.
You told us to serve the least,
yet we chase comfort and recognition.

Forgive us for the gap between our words and our lives.
Forgive us for using faith as identity instead of obedience.
Forgive us for hearing Your teachings
and admiring them,
but not doing them.

Give us courage to take You seriously.
Not just in what we believe,
but in how we live, speak, spend, and love.

Break our pride when it keeps us from humility.
Interrupt our routines when they ignore the hurting.
Convict us when we justify what You clearly commanded.

Teach us to love when it’s inconvenient.
To give when it costs us.
To forgive when it feels impossible.
To choose truth over comfort,
and mercy over being right.

Make us people who reflect You—not just in church,
but in our homes, our work, our relationships, and our thoughts.

Let our lives become living prayers,
where Your words are not just spoken,
but seen.

We don’t want to only call You Lord—
we want to follow You as Lord

Change us, challenge us, and lead us.

We pray all of this in the powerful and matchless name of Jesus. Amen

Through The Eyes Of A Thief

The sky darkens in a way I’ve never seen before, though I’ve spent my life in the shadows. I hang here, condemned, my body wracked with pain, my past heavier than the crossbeam upon my shoulders. I deserve this, I know it. Every selfish choice, every hardened moment has led me to this hill. Beside me, another man curses, demanding rescue, demanding proof. But I have no demands left—only the bitter clarity that comes when there is nothing left to lose. And then I look at Him.

There is something different about the man in the middle. He does not spit back insults. He does not fight for breath with rage, but with mercy. I hear Him pray—not for Himself, but for those who have nailed Him here. “Father, forgive them.” Forgive them? In that moment, the weight of my own guilt presses deeper, yet strangely, hope flickers where despair once lived. If He can ask forgiveness for them, could there be mercy even for me?

With what strength I have left, I speak—not to mock, but to confess. I deserve this. He does not. And then, with a trembling voice, I ask the unthinkable: “Remember me.” Not save me from this cross, not erase my past—but remember me. It is a small plea from a broken man. Yet His reply is immediate, certain, and filled with a grace I have never known: “Today, you will be with me in paradise.” In the shadow of death, I find life. On a cross meant for punishment, I receive a promise.

As the darkness deepens, fear loosens its grip. My circumstances have not changed, but everything else has. The man beside me is not just another condemned soul—He is a King whose kingdom begins where mine ends. And somehow, by His mercy, I am invited in. This is Good Friday through my eyes: not the end of a life, but the beginning of eternity. ~OC

Holy Week

Holy Week and Easter are at the very heart of the Christian faith, and understanding them can offer a meaningful glimpse into what Christians believe about love, sacrifice, and hope. Holy Week begins with Palm Sunday, recalling Jesus’ arrival in Jerusalem, and moves through deeply significant moments like the Last Supper—where He shared a final meal with His disciples—and Good Friday, the day Christians remember His crucifixion. To a non-Christian, this might seem like a somber sequence of events, but for believers, it represents something profound: the idea that God chose to enter into human suffering and injustice rather than remain distant from it.

Easter, which follows, is the celebration of Jesus’ resurrection from the dead. This is not just a symbolic moment in Christianity—it is the foundation of Christian faith. As Christians we believe that through His resurrection, Jesus conquered sin and death, opening the door to forgiveness and new life for all people. Even if you don’t share that belief, the message behind Easter can still resonate: that renewal is possible, that love can overcome hatred, and that even in the darkest moments, there is the potential for transformation. For many, Holy Week and Easter are not only religious observances but also an invitation to reflect on themes of grace, redemption, and the possibility of a fresh start. ~OC

You can check out the Spoken Word version of this post at my YouTube channel Todd E.Shoemaker.

More To Life

Today’s a new day!

Is there more to life than more? It’s a question that cuts through the noise of our everyday lives. We live in a world that constantly tells us to chase after more—more success, more money, more achievements, more recognition. We are taught that if we just keep striving, keep climbing, keep accumulating, then eventually we will arrive at a place of fulfillment. But if we’re honest, many of us have reached milestones we once dreamed of, only to find ourselves still longing, still restless, still asking, “Is this it?”

The truth is, “more” was never meant to satisfy the deepest parts of our souls. That longing inside of us is not a call to gather more things—it’s a call to draw closer to God. Ecclesiastes reminds us that God has set eternity in the human heart. That means there is something within us that this world can never fully satisfy. No matter how much we gain, it will never be enough if we are disconnected from the One who created us with purpose and intention.

So what if the answer isn’t found in speeding up, but in slowing down? What if we paused long enough to allow Jesus to meet us in the quiet? In a culture that celebrates busyness, slowing down can feel uncomfortable, even unproductive. But throughout Scripture, we see Jesus often stepping away from the crowds, withdrawing to quiet places to pray, to commune with the Father. If the Son of God made space for stillness, how much more do we need it?

When we slow down, we begin to notice things we’ve been missing. We become aware of God’s presence in ways that get drowned out by the noise of constant activity. We start to hear His voice more clearly—not because He wasn’t speaking before, but because we were too distracted to listen. In that stillness, Jesus gently begins to reshape our understanding of what truly matters. He shifts our focus from outward success to inward transformation, from temporary gain to eternal purpose.

Jesus invites us into a different kind of life—not one defined by endless striving, but one marked by rest, trust, and relationship with Him. He says, “Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” That rest is not just physical—it’s spiritual. It’s the deep, soul-level peace that comes from knowing we are held, known, and loved by God.

So is there more to life than more? Yes—but it’s not the kind of “more” the world offers. It’s more peace, more purpose, more joy, more of God’s presence. And we don’t find it by chasing harder—we find it by surrendering, by slowing down, and by turning our hearts toward Jesus.

Today, you have an invitation. Step out of the rush. Quiet your heart. Make space for Him. Because when you do, you’ll discover that what you’ve been searching for isn’t found in having more—it’s found in knowing Him. ~OC

You can find the Spoken Word version of this at my YouTube channel Todd E. Shoemaker Music.

Purpose Equals Peace

Today’s a new day! 

For more than two decades, I have walked a road marked by uncertainty, pain, and countless moments where I was told my life might soon end. After hearing over fifty times that I had only hours, weeks, or months to live, I stopped counting. Not out of denial, but out of a quiet realization—life was never meant to be lived under the constant shadow of “what if today is the last day?” Instead, I chose to seek something deeper. In the midst of my storm, I prayed and asked Jesus to show me my purpose within the pain. And He answered.

What I discovered changed everything. My hospital rooms became mission fields. Waiting rooms turned into places of ministry. Conversations with doctors, nurses, and fellow patients became opportunities to encourage, uplift, and share hope. God didn’t remove my storm, but He gave it meaning. Over the years, He has allowed me to walk alongside others in their darkest moments—offering support, listening ears, and reminders that they are not alone. It has been one of the greatest privileges of my life to be used in this way. And in that purpose, I found something unexpected: peace. A deep, unshakable peace that doesn’t depend on circumstances.

Time and time again, I’ve heard others share a similar testimony. When they begin to understand that God has a purpose even in their suffering, something shifts. The fear loosens its grip. The questions quiet. And peace begins to take root. It doesn’t mean the storm disappears—but it does mean the storm no longer defines them. So today, I want to gently challenge you: what is God revealing to you in your current season? Are you leaning in to listen, or are you overwhelmed by the noise of the storm? Have you allowed your struggle to become your identity, or are you willing to surrender it?

Take a moment today to lay your burdens at the foot of the Cross. In fact, don’t just lay them down—leave them there. Nail your fears, your pain, your questions, and your weariness to the Cross and trust that Jesus will carry what you cannot. I can’t promise that your season of hardship will end quickly, or even in the way you hope. But I can promise this: when you seek God’s purpose in the storm, you will find His peace. Even now, as I continue walking through ongoing health challenges, I do so with hope and a calm assurance that God is not finished.

So the question remains—are you willing to take that first step today? To trust, to seek, and to walk forward in the purpose God has prepared for you? Peace and victory are not found in the absence of storms, but in the presence of Jesus within them. ~OC

You can check out the Spoken Word version at my YouTube channel Todd E. Shoemaker Music.

Healing

Today’s a new day! 

Pain changes you. Anyone who has walked through loss, betrayal, disappointment, or hardship knows that suffering leaves a mark on the heart. Scripture never pretends that pain is easy or meaningless. Throughout the Bible we see faithful people—like Job, Esther, David, and the Apostle Paul —who endured seasons of deep sorrow and struggle. Pain has a way of reshaping our thoughts, testing our faith, and revealing what lies deep within us. It can make us guarded, bitter, or fearful. But pain itself does not get the final say in the story of a believer’s life.

Healing does. Through Jesus Christ, God offers restoration that reaches beyond the wound. Healing doesn’t mean pretending the pain never happened; it means allowing God to transform it into something redemptive. When we bring our brokenness before Him, He begins the quiet work of mending our hearts and renewing our perspective. That healing shapes who we become—people marked not by bitterness but by grace, compassion, and resilience.

The truth is that two people can walk through the same kind of pain and become very different individuals. One may carry the hurt like a heavy chain, while another allows God to turn the wound into wisdom. Healing teaches us empathy for others who suffer. It softens our hearts and reminds us of our need for God’s presence daily. In this way, healing becomes a testimony: the pain may have changed us, but God’s love determines who we ultimately become.

If you are in a season where pain feels overwhelming, remember that your story is still unfolding. God is not finished with you. The same Lord who heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds is still at work today. Pain may shape the chapter you are in, but healing—God’s healing—will shape the person you are becoming. ~OC

You can listen to the Spoken Word version of this post at my YouTube channel Todd E. Shoemaker Music.

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