Start Making Assists

Today’s a new day! I wrote this post awhile back, but thought I would share it with you today.

What if the greatest measure of our Christian walk isn’t how many people we lead, but how many people we help get closer to Jesus?

I’m a sports fan. I love watching great athletes, and one of the things I appreciate most about sports is the assist.

In basketball, the NBA’s all-time assist leader is John Stockton, with an incredible 15,806 career assists.

Think about that number for a moment. Fifteen thousand, eight hundred and six times, Stockton made a pass that put someone else in a position to score.

In soccer, Lionel Messi is widely recognized as the all-time assist leader, with more than 400 official career assists across club and international competitions.

Two extraordinary athletes. Two different sports. One common thread: They understood that sometimes the greatest contribution you can make is helping someone else succeed.

And that got me thinking about something much bigger than sports.

What if we started looking at our Christian faith walk the same way?

What if instead of keeping track of how many people attend your church, how many social media followers we have, how many people listen to your podcast or how many times our name gets mentioned in “the right places”, we started keeping track of how many assists we make for the Kingdom of God?

How many people have we encouraged when they were ready to give up?

How many people have we prayed with when they couldn’t find the words to pray themselves?

How many times have we stopped what we were doing to help someone who was hurting?

How many times have we shared the love of Jesus with someone who felt forgotten, rejected, abandoned, or unloved?

How many times have we pointed someone toward Jesus rather than toward ourselves?

Those are the assists that matter.

JESUS WAS ALWAYS LOOKING FOR THE ONE.

Throughout the Gospels, we see Jesus consistently doing something that challenges the way many of us approach Christianity.

He noticed people.

He noticed the forgotten.
He noticed the rejected.
He noticed the sick.
He noticed the poor.
He noticed the lonely.
He noticed the people everyone else walked past.

Jesus didn’t build His ministry around popularity, recognition, or earthly applause.

He loved people.

He stopped for the one.
He reached for the one.
He healed the one.
He forgave the one.
He pursued the one.

And He calls us to do the same.

In Matthew 25:35-40, Jesus teaches us that when we serve those who are hungry, thirsty, strangers, sick, or imprisoned, we are serving Him.

Read that again.

When we serve others, we serve Jesus.

That means every act of kindness, every unexpected encouragement, every prayer, every helping hand, and every moment we choose compassion over convenience can become an assist for the Kingdom.

IT’S NOT ABOUT GETTING THE CREDIT. IT’S ABOUT GIVING JESUS THE GLORY.

Here’s something I think Churches and Christian Communities needs to remember.

We have become very good at celebrating the person who scores the basket, kicks the goal, stands behind the pulpit, leads the worship service, or stands on the platform.

And there is absolutely nothing wrong with celebrating people who serve faithfully.

But what about the people making the assists?

What about the person praying behind the scenes?

What about the person visiting someone in the hospital?

What about the person encouraging a struggling brother or sister?

What about the person welcoming someone who walks into church feeling completely alone?

What about the person quietly helping a family who has fallen on difficult times?

What about the person who shares Jesus with someone who has never experienced His love?

They may never receive recognition. Their names may never appear in a church newsletter. They may never stand on a stage.

But Heaven sees them.

And perhaps some of the greatest Kingdom work happening in our communities is being accomplished by people whose names most of us will never know.

Not every Christian is called to stand on a platform, but every Christian is called to make a difference. Take a moment to read that again.

Imagine if we all became Kingdom assist leaders.

Imagine a Church or Christian where people competed, not for recognition, but instead to see who could encourage the most people.

Imagine Christians who measured success by how many people they helped, how many lives they touched, and how many people they pointed towards Jesus

Imagine believers who were more excited about someone else’s breakthrough than their own recognition.

Imagine a Christian community where we stopped asking, “What can you do for me?” and started asking, “How can I help you?”

Imagine what would happen if every Christian made it their mission to provide at least one Kingdom assist every single day.

A phone call.
A prayer.
A meal.
A helping hand.
A word of encouragement.
A moment of forgiveness.
An invitation to church.
A conversation about Jesus.

One assist at a time.

One life at a time.

One opportunity at a time.

We might never know the full impact of those seemingly small moments until we stand before Jesus.

MY CHALLENGE TO US TODAY

I want to challenge myself, and I want to challenge everyone reading this.

Stop worrying so much about being the person who scores the basket.

Start becoming the person who makes the assist.

Stop worrying about who gets the recognition.

Start celebrating what God is doing in someone else’s life.

Stop asking how many people know your name.

Start asking how many people know the love of Jesus because you took the time to show it to them.

And please remember something:

You don’t have to be a pastor, preacher, missionary, worship leader, or Bible scholar to make a difference for the Kingdom. Please read that again.

You simply have to be willing.

Willing to love.
Willing to serve.
Willing to encourage.
Willing to forgive.
Willing to reach out.
Willing to make yourself available when God puts someone in your path.

John Stockton accumulated 15,806 NBA assists.

Lionel Messi has accumulated more than 400 official career assists.

Those are extraordinary athletic accomplishments.

But imagine the eternal impact if every Christian made it their lifelong mission to help someone else get closer to Jesus.

There is no scoreboard on earth that could measure that kind of success.

And there is no trophy that could compare with hearing someone say:

“Because you took the time to love me, encourage me, pray for me, and point me toward Jesus, my life is forever different.”

THAT’S WHAT YOU CALL A KINGDOM ASSIST!

Let’s stop keeping score of our own accomplishments.

Let’s start making assists for Jesus.

Because at the end of the day, it’s not about how many people we get to follow us.

IT’S ABOUT HOW MANY PEOPLE WE HELP FOLLOW HIM!

Keep loving. Keep serving. Keep encouraging. Keep pointing people to Jesus.

And whatever you do, don’t stop making assists! ~OC

“Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms. ~1 Peter 4:10

Six Battles, One Faith

Hello. Every time I write a post, I wonder if it will be my last one. Writing and putting my thoughts together have become much harder the last few months. This post alone took me months to write. But as always, I leave everything in God’s hands.

My Journey with Cancer, Parkinson’s, Myasthenia Gravis, Gastroparesis, Long Haulers COVID, and Now the Beginning of Dementia.

Sometimes I sit back and wonder how one person can experience so many different medical battles in a lifetime.

Cancer, Parkinson’s. Myasthenia Gravis. Gastroparesis. Long Haulers COVID. And now, the beginning of another chapter I never imagined having to write: Dementia.

Six diagnoses. Six different challenges. Countless doctor’s appointments, hospitalizations, treatments, medications, sleepless nights, unanswered questions, and moments when my body has reminded me that I’m not in control of nearly as much as I once thought.

This isn’t a story I’m sharing because I want sympathy. It’s not about seeking attention or having people feel sorry for me.

It’s about sharing my journey. The good, the bad, the beautiful, the heartbreaking, and everything in between.

It’s about being honest about what life looks like when you live with multiple chronic and progressive health conditions.

And most importantly, it’s about sharing what Jesus has meant to me throughout this journey.

Cancer: The Battle That Started It All:

In 2003, I heard two words that would forever change my life: You have cancer.

It was one of my first major medical battles and an early reminder of just how fragile life can be. Cancer brought uncertainty, fear, and questions about the future, but it also strengthened my appreciation for every day I’m given.

Little did I know that cancer would be followed by several more medical battles over the years.

Through it all, I’ve continued to learn that my circumstances may change, but God’s faithfulness never does.

Cancer may have been one of my battles, but it never became my identity. Jesus remained my identity, my hope, and my strength.

PARKINSON’S: THE BATTLE THAT KEEPS ON STEALING:

My Parkinson’s diagnosis came in 2007.

I never imagined that a neurological disease would become such a significant part of my life. Parkinson’s has affected my physical abilities, mobility, energy, and, perhaps most frustratingly, my ability to communicate.

My voice doesn’t always cooperate. Sometimes I know exactly what I want to say, but getting the words out is an entirely different challenge.

For someone who loves writing, encouraging people, sharing the Gospel, and communicating with others, losing some of that ability has been particularly difficult.

I’ve had to find different ways to express myself and share what God puts on my heart.

But here’s something I’ve learned:

Parkinson’s may affect my voice, but it cannot silence my faith.

I still have something to say. I still have a testimony to share. And I still have a reason to encourage others.

MYASTHENIA GRAVIS: WHEN YOUR OWN BODY BECOMES A BATTLEFIELD

In 2009, another diagnosis entered my life: Myasthenia Gravis.

Living with MG means dealing with a neuromuscular autoimmune disease that causes muscle weakness and can affect everyday activities in ways most people never understand.

Some days, even the simplest things require tremendous effort.

There are days when my body doesn’t have the strength to do what my mind wants it to do. There are moments when fatigue takes over and I have to accept that I simply cannot do everything I want.

One of the hardest parts of living with MG is its unpredictability.

You can have plans, dreams, and things you want to accomplish, only to have your body remind you that today isn’t going to go according to plan.

It’s a humbling experience.

But I’ve learned that my worth isn’t determined by how much I accomplish in a day.

God doesn’t love me more on my productive days or less on my difficult ones.

His grace is sufficient, even when my strength isn’t.

GASTROPARESIS: WHEN SOMETHING SO SIMPLE BECOMES A DAILY BATTLE

In 2015, Gastroparesis became another part of my medical journey.

Something most people never think twice about, eating, became another challenge.

Gastroparesis affects the stomach’s ability to empty properly. It can make nutrition, eating, and digestion incredibly difficult.

It’s hard to explain what it’s like when something as fundamental as eating becomes a daily medical challenge.

There are frustrations, discomfort, limitations, and days when you simply wish your body would cooperate.

I have dealt with a gastric stimulator, a feeding tube and 70% of my stomach being removed.

Dealing with gastroparesis is another reminder that so many things we take for granted are actually blessings.

I’ve learned to appreciate things differently, celebrate small victories, and recognize that sometimes getting through an ordinary day is anything but ordinary.

LONG HAULERS COVID: ANOTHER UNEXPECTED CHAPTER

In 2021, Long Haulers COVID added another layer to an already complicated medical journey.

After everything my body had experienced, I found myself navigating the lingering effects of another illness.

The fatigue, physical challenges, and uncertainty added to an already difficult situation.

Sometimes it feels like just when I begin adjusting to one medical challenge, another one comes along.

I would love to tell you that I’ve gotten used to it.

But the truth is, you never completely get used to having your health turned upside down.

You learn to adjust. You learn to adapt. You learn to appreciate the good days.

And you learn that tomorrow is never guaranteed.

DEMENTIA: A NEW CHAPTER AND A DIFFERENT KIND OF FEAR

And now, there’s Dementia.

This is perhaps one of the most difficult chapters for me to write about.

It’s one thing to experience physical limitations. It’s another thing to begin facing questions about your memory, your thinking, and what the future might hold.

Dementia brings a different kind of uncertainty.

There are questions I don’t have answers to. There are things about the future that I would rather not think about.

I love remembering. I love writing. I love creating songs, sharing stories, encouraging people, and reflecting on what God has done throughout my life.

Those pleasures in life are becoming more difficult these days. This is a difficult season to process.

But I’m learning something important.

My identity has never been dependent on my memory, my physical abilities, my voice, or my medical circumstances.

My identity has always been found in Jesus Christ.

Even when my body struggles, even when my voice is weak, and even when my memory isn’t what it once was, I am still a child of God.

My value hasn’t changed.

My purpose hasn’t disappeared.

And my Savior hasn’t gone anywhere.

I don’t know what this chapter will look like, but I know who will walk through it with me.

THE PART OF MY JOURNEY PEOPLE DON’T ALWAYS SEE

Behind these six diagnoses is a human being.

A child of God’s. A husband. A son. A friend. Someone who still has dreams, hopes, passions, and a desire to make a difference.

There are days when the fatigue is overwhelming.

There are nights when sleep is difficult to find.

There are moments when pain, weakness, and frustration take their toll.

There are things I want to do but cannot.

There are meetings I have to miss, commitments I have to step away from, and days when I have to remind myself that resting isn’t quitting.

Sometimes I miss the person I used to be physically.

I miss the freedom of being able to do things without calculating how much energy they will require.

I miss having a voice that cooperates.

I miss the days when my body didn’t dictate so many of my decisions.

And yes, sometimes I get discouraged.

I’m sharing that because I believe Christians need to understand something:

Having faith doesn’t mean you never struggle. Having faith means you know where to turn when you do.

I don’t believe we have to pretend everything is wonderful when we’re hurting.

Jesus never asked us to pretend.

He invites us to bring our burdens, our fears, our disappointments, and our brokenness to Him.

And that’s what I continue to do.

MY FAITH IS BIGGER THAN MY DIAGNOSES

Over the years, I’ve experienced some incredibly difficult medical situations.

I’ve faced moments when doctors weren’t sure I would survive. I’ve experienced hospitalizations, intensive care, treatments, and medical circumstances that I never imagined would become part of my testimony.

I’ve also experienced what I can only describe as the incredible grace and mercy of God.

In 2019, after years of serious illness and moments when my life was hanging in the balance, I experienced a remarkable miracle after attending a prayer gathering.

A miracle that hasn’t disappeared because God is mad at me or my lack of faith.

I am still walking in my miracle.

I have countless testimonies of God’s faithfulness, and I carry those experiences with me.

But I’ve also learned that faith isn’t a guarantee that we will never get sick, never suffer, or never experience another difficult diagnosis.

Faith is trusting Jesus even when the healing hasn’t come or the healing isn’t complete healing.

I believe the majority of the time, our healing is progressive. That is a post for another post.

Faith is believing when the answers don’t make sense.

Faith is finding peace when the circumstances haven’t changed.

Faith is knowing that even in the darkest valley, we are never walking alone.

One of my favorite passages is 2 Corinthians 12:9:

“My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness.”

I’ve come to understand that Scripture in ways I never could have imagined.

I used to think strength meant being able to do more, accomplish more, and push through every obstacle.

Today, I understand that sometimes strength means getting out of bed when everything hurts.

Sometimes strength means asking for help.

Sometimes strength means resting.

Sometimes strength means crying out to Jesus and admitting that you don’t have anything left to give.

And sometimes strength simply means getting through another day.

TO MY WIFE, FAMILY, FRIENDS, AND EVERYONE WHO PRAYS

I would be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge the people who have walked alongside me.

Especially my bride, Laura.

For more than two decades, she has walked through this medical journey with me. The appointments, treatments, surgeries, hospitalizations, uncertainty, and countless difficult days.

She has been there through so much.

People sometimes talk about what it means to love someone through sickness and health. Laura has lived that commitment in ways that words cannot adequately describe.

I am also grateful for family, friends, and everyone who made the choice to stick around and pray for us, encourage us, check in on us and reminded us that we’re not alone.

Your prayers matter.

Your encouragement matters.

And sometimes, just knowing someone is thinking about you makes a difficult day a little easier.

I’M NOT FINISHED LIVING

So, where do I go from here?

Honestly, I don’t know exactly what tomorrow will bring.

I cannot promise that my health will improve. I cannot promise that I won’t face more challenges. I cannot predict what these diagnoses will mean for my future.

But I can make a decision about today.

I can continue loving my wife.

I can continue encouraging people.

I can continue sharing my faith.

I can continue writing, creating, praying, and looking for opportunities to make a difference.

I can continue living a life of significance, even if that life looks very different from what I once imagined.

I have spent much of my life encouraging people to keep fighting, keep believing, and keep overcoming.

Today, I’m reminding myself of that same message.

And I want people to understand something:

I’m not an overcomer because I’ve defeated every medical condition.

I’m an overcomer because these conditions haven’t taken away my hope, my faith, my love for Jesus, or my desire to keep living.

My health issues are part of my story.

They are NOT my identity.

My identity is found in Jesus.

I am a child of God.

I am loved.

I am still here.

And I still have a purpose.

ONE FINAL THOUGHT

If you’re reading this and you’re fighting a battle of your own, whether it’s cancer, Parkinson’s, dementia, an autoimmune disease, chronic illness, depression, or something nobody else can see, please hear me.

You are not your diagnosis.

You are not your limitations.

You are not your worst day.

You are not forgotten.

You are not alone.

Give yourself permission to have difficult days. Give yourself permission to rest. Give yourself permission to ask for help.

And never believe that your life has lost its significance simply because your circumstances have changed.

I don’t know how many chapters remain in my story.

But I know who holds the pages.

I don’t know what tomorrow will bring.

But I know who holds tomorrow.

And I don’t know what the future of my health looks like.

But I know that Jesus will be with me every step of the way.

Six medical battles. Countless challenges. One Savior. One unwavering faith.

I’m not giving up.

I’m not throwing in the towel.

I’m not finished living.

I’m still fighting. I’m still believing. I’m still trusting Jesus.

And by His grace…

I’M STILL AN OVERCOMER!

KEEP FIGHTING. KEEP BELIEVING. KEEP OVERCOMING.

To God be the glory. ~OC

My Fifty Year Journey With Jesus

On Mother’s Day, 1976, I gave my heart to Jesus and was baptized. Little did I know what an incredible, challenging, beautiful, and sometimes unexpected journey I was beginning.

My walk with Jesus wasn’t always consistent during those early years. But when I turned 18, something changed. I made a decision to go ALL IN. I truly surrendered my life to Jesus, and I haven’t wanted to walk this journey without Him since.

As I look back over these 50 years, I can honestly say my journey hasn’t been perfect. I’ve stumbled. I’ve questioned. I’ve had seasons when life didn’t make sense. I’ve walked through valleys I never expected to experience, faced battles I never imagined fighting, and experienced moments when I didn’t understand what Jesus was doing.

But through it all, I’ve continued to keep my eyes on Him.

I’ve learned that following Jesus doesn’t mean you will always understand the journey. It doesn’t mean life will always be easy, prayers will always be answered the way you hoped, or that you won’t experience heartache, disappointment, and suffering.

It means choosing to trust Him even when you don’t understand Him.

Fifty years later, I’m still learning, still growing, still surrendering, still believing, and still holding on to His promises.

So, wherever you are in your walk with Jesus today, I want to encourage you with something I’ve learned over these five decades:

DON’T GIVE UP.

When life doesn’t make sense, keep believing.

When the answers don’t come, keep trusting.

When the road gets difficult, keep walking.

When you stumble, get back up.

When you cannot see what Jesus is doing, remember who Jesus is.

And when everything around you tells you to let go, hold even tighter to His promises.

You don’t have to have a perfect walk to have a meaningful relationship with Jesus. You just have to keep coming back to Him, keep surrendering, and keep your eyes fixed on Him.

As I continue this journey, my prayer is that my life will always point people toward Jesus. Not toward me, not toward my accomplishments, but toward the One who has carried me through every season.

Fifty years ago, I said YES to Jesus. Today, my answer is still YES!

I’m not finished walking. I’m not finished believing. I’m not finished trusting.

And as long as Jesus gives me breath, I’ll keep following Him.

STAY THE COURSE. KEEP THE FAITH. KEEP YOUR EYES ON JESUS.

“Let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith.” — Hebrews 12:1-2

To God be ALL the glory! ~OC

America, It’s Time To Start Healing

Yesterday, Americans went to the polls in record numbers. Millions of people voted for change, for a new beginning, and for what they believe is a better future for our country.

Some are celebrating today’s results. Others are disappointed, frustrated, or even angry.

But regardless of how you voted, I want to encourage you to do something today.

PRAY.

Pray for the newly elected officials. Pray that they will have the strength, wisdom, humility, and courage to make decisions that serve all Americans, not just those who voted for them.

Pray for the millions of Americans struggling to make ends meet. For families feeling the pressure of rising costs, for those worried about putting food on the table, and for those wondering how they’re going to make it through another month.

Pray for your friends, neighbors, coworkers, and relatives who voted differently than you. Remember, a different political opinion doesn’t make someone your enemy.

Pray for peace in America and around the world. We have enough division, hatred, violence, and suffering. We don’t need more.

But don’t stop with prayer.

LOOK AROUND YOU.

Find someone who needs encouragement. Help a neighbor. Check on a struggling family. Volunteer. Serve your community. Listen to someone whose opinions are different from yours.

Look for opportunities to become part of the solution instead of contributing to the problem.

And perhaps most importantly, LOVE PEOPLE.

All people. Not just the people who agree with you. Not just the people who vote like you. Not just the people who look like you or believe what you believe.

ALL PEOPLE.

We are neighbors. We are coworkers. We are friends. We are family. And we’re all Americans.

We don’t have to agree on everything to treat each other with dignity, kindness, compassion, and respect.

Elections come and go. Political parties rise and fall. Administrations change. But the people we love, the communities we live in, and the country we share remain.

We cannot continue allowing politics to destroy relationships, friendships, families, and communities.

America, the election is over. It’s time to put down the political weapons, turn down the rhetoric, stop pointing fingers, and start working together.

There are real people hurting. Real families struggling. Real problems that need real solutions.

Let’s spend less time arguing about what divides us and more time working on what brings us together.

Let’s choose kindness over cruelty, compassion over judgment, understanding over hatred, and love over division.

Yesterday, we exercised our right to vote.

Today, let’s exercise our responsibility to one another.

AMERICA, IT’S TIME TO START THE HEALING PROCESS.

And that healing begins with each one of us.

God bless America. ~OC

A Call To America 2026

Today’s a new day!

There comes a time in the life of every nation when the greatest danger isn’t the enemy standing at its gates, but the darkness growing within its own walls.

A time when a country can have more wealth than ever before, yet feel spiritually bankrupt.

When we can communicate with someone on the other side of the world in seconds, but cannot have an honest conversation with the person sitting across the dinner table.

When we have more information than any generation in history, but seem to have less wisdom.

America, we need to talk.

Not as Republicans or Democrats.
Not as conservatives or liberals.
Not as red states or blue states.

But as human beings.

As neighbors.

As parents and children.

As people who still believe that truth matters, kindness matters, and the lives of our fellow human beings matter.

Because something is happening to us. And pretending otherwise will not save us.

We have become a nation where winning an argument seems more important than understanding another person.

Where we celebrate our own victories and laugh at another person’s suffering.

Where we can watch a family lose everything and scroll past it without a second thought.

We have learned to defend our political leaders more passionately than we defend the truth.

We have become so determined to prove the other side wrong that we have forgotten to ask whether we are doing what is right.

And somewhere along the way, we started confusing cruelty with strength.

But cruelty is not strength.

Hatred is not patriotism.

And humiliating another human being does not make you a better person.

A nation cannot remain united when its people are taught to hate one another.

We wave our flags. We sing our national anthem. We speak proudly about freedom.

And we should.

But freedom is not simply the right to say whatever we want.

It is also the responsibility to consider what our words do to the people who hear them.

It is the courage to defend the rights of people with whom we disagree.

It is the willingness to protect those at risk, even when doing so earns us no applause.

And it is the understanding that the person standing across the political aisle is still a human being created in the image of God.

America, we have a problem when we can quote the Constitution but ignore the humanity of our neighbors.

We have a problem when we demand religious freedom for ourselves but hesitate to defend it for others.

We have a problem when we claim to love the Bible but use its words as weapons against people who are already hurting.

And we have a problem when the name of Jesus becomes a political slogan instead of an invitation to love our neighbors.

Because Jesus never asked us to build His kingdom through hatred.

He told us to love our enemies.

He told us to care for the hungry.

He told us to welcome the stranger.

He told us to care for the sick.

And He warned us about judging others while refusing to examine ourselves.

Yet today, some of the loudest voices claiming to represent Christianity seem to have forgotten the very person they claim to follow.

Church, we must decide whether we want the power of a political kingdom or the transforming love of Jesus Christ. We cannot afford to confuse the two.

A political party cannot save a soul.

A president cannot die on a cross for your sins.

A flag cannot forgive you.

And no politician, regardless of party, should ever become more important to you than your faith, your conscience, or your commitment to the teachings of Jesus.

Our political leaders are human beings. They will disappoint us. They will make mistakes. Some will lie. Some will abuse their power.

They should be held accountable.

Not excused because they wear our party’s colors.

Not defended because we fear what the other side might do.

Truth does not change depending on who tells the lie.

Justice does not become optional when our preferred candidate is in trouble.

And integrity is not something we should demand only from people we oppose.

If we believe in accountability, let us practice it.

If we believe in honesty, let us tell the truth.

If we believe in justice, let us demand it for everyone.

And if we claim to follow Jesus, let us stop making excuses for behavior that contradicts His teachings.

The greatest threat to Christianity is not always the person attacking the church from the outside. Sometimes it is the person sitting inside the church who has forgotten what Jesus taught.

And what about our children?

What are we teaching them?

That success matters more than character?

That popularity matters more than integrity?

That having the most money, the most followers, or the loudest voice makes someone important?

That people who look different, pray differently, speak differently, or come from another country are somehow worth less than we are?

We cannot teach our children to love their neighbors while demonstrating contempt for our own.

We cannot tell them that bullying is wrong and then celebrate it when a politician bullies someone we dislike.

We cannot tell them to be kind while applauding cruelty.

Children are watching.

They are listening.

And they are learning far more from what we do than from what we tell them.

What kind of America are we preparing for them?

One where compassion is considered weakness?

One where disagreement becomes hatred?

One where school shootings have become so familiar that another grieving family barely interrupts our daily routine?

One where people struggling with poverty, disability, addiction, or mental illness are treated as problems to be ignored rather than neighbors to be loved?

Surely we can do better.

Surely a nation with our resources can find the will to protect its children, care for its vulnerable, and give people hope for tomorrow.

Surely we can disagree without destroying one another.

And surely we can remember that a person’s worth is not determined by their bank account, their political affiliation, their immigration status, their disability, or the color of their skin.

Every human being carries a dignity that no election can grant and no politician has the authority to take away.

Now, let us talk about the church.

Not the building.

Not the denomination.

Not the size of the congregation or the number of views on a livestream.

The church.

The people who claim to follow Jesus Christ.

Where are we when our neighbors are hurting?

Where are we when immigrants are afraid?

Where are we when a family is grieving?

Where are we when someone living with a disability feels forgotten?

Where are we when a teenager is struggling with depression and believes nobody cares whether they live or die?

Where are we when people who have been rejected by religious communities begin to believe that God must reject them, too?

Are we there?

Are we showing up?

Are we listening?

Are we loving people who cannot give us anything in return?

Or have we become so consumed with defending our own religious and political identities that we have forgotten our calling?

Jesus did not tell His followers that the world would recognize them by their political victories.

He said they would be known by their love.

That should stop us in our tracks.

Because if our Christianity makes us more hateful, more arrogant, more judgmental, and less compassionate, something has gone terribly wrong.

We may know the language of faith without practicing the heart of it.

We may defend Scripture without allowing Scripture to challenge us.

We may speak the name of Jesus while refusing to treat His children with the dignity they deserve.

A cross around your neck means little if there is no evidence of Christ’s love in your heart.

And now, America, a word about freedom.

Freedom is precious.

But freedom without responsibility becomes selfishness.

Faith without humility becomes arrogance.

Power without accountability becomes dangerous.

And patriotism without compassion becomes an excuse to ignore the suffering of others.

Loving America does not mean pretending America is perfect.

It means caring enough about this country to confront its failures and work toward something better.

It means telling the truth about our history, even when the truth makes us uncomfortable.

It means protecting the rights of those whose beliefs differ from our own.

It means refusing to let hatred become the price of belonging.

It means believing that our country can be both strong and compassionate, both free and responsible, both proud of its achievements and honest about its shortcomings.

We do not have to choose between loving our country and wanting it to improve.

In fact, sometimes the greatest expression of love is refusing to remain silent when something is wrong.

And perhaps that is where our warning begins.

Not with the collapse of a government.

Not with the defeat of a political party.

Not with the disappearance of a particular way of life.

But with the slow death of our willingness to care about one another.

Because a nation does not become great simply because it possesses wealth, weapons, technology, or influence.

It becomes stronger when its people recognize their responsibility to one another.

When a hungry child is fed.

When a grieving family is comforted.

When a stranger is welcomed.

When a sick person is not forgotten.

When the powerful are held accountable.

When the powerless are protected.

When truth matters more than winning.

And when love becomes more than a word we use to describe ourselves.

America, we are not powerless to change the direction in which we are heading.

We can begin in our homes.

We can begin in our churches.

We can begin in our neighborhoods.

We can begin by putting down our phones and listening to someone whose life looks different from ours.

We can begin by refusing to share a hateful post.

We can begin by apologizing when we are wrong.

We can begin by helping someone who will never vote like us.

We can begin by treating the person who disagrees with us as a human being rather than an enemy.

And we can begin by asking ourselves one uncomfortable question:

If Jesus were standing beside me today, would He recognize the way I am treating His children?

Not the way I worship.

Not the way I vote.

Not the way I describe my faith.

The way I treat people.

That is where the real examination begins.

I cannot predict America’s future.

I cannot promise that our divisions will disappear or that our problems will be solved overnight.

But I believe we still have a choice.

We can continue down the road of bitterness, division, and contempt.

Or we can choose a different way.

We can choose truth over propaganda.

Compassion over cruelty.

Humility over arrogance.

Service over self-interest.

And the teachings of Jesus over the demands of political tribalism.

It will not be easy.

Loving people who disagree with us is difficult.

Standing for justice when our own side is wrong is difficult.

Admitting our mistakes is difficult.

Choosing forgiveness when resentment feels justified is difficult.

But doing what is right has never depended on doing what is easy.

And following Jesus has never been a promise of comfort.

It is a calling to faithfulness.

A calling to love.

A calling to serve.

A calling to become the hands and feet of Christ in a world that desperately needs Him.

So, America, this is not a prediction of doom.

It is a warning about the choices we are making today.

A warning that we can lose something far more important than an election.

We can lose our compassion.

We can lose our integrity.

We can lose our willingness to see the humanity in one another.

And we can lose sight of the very faith we claim to defend.

But we can also turn around.

We can repent.

We can rebuild trust.

We can reach across the divides.

We can choose to love again.

And we can remember that the future is not shaped only by the people in Washington, the leaders on television, or the voices shouting across social media.

It is also shaped by ordinary people deciding, one encounter at a time, what kind of neighbors, parents, friends, citizens, and Christians they will be.

The question is not whether America will ever be perfect. It never has been.

The question is whether we still have the courage to become better.

Whether we can put humanity above hatred.

Whether we can put service above selfishness.

Whether we can put the Gospel above our political loyalties.

And whether we can rediscover the simple, demanding, world-changing truth that loving God must never become an excuse for withholding love from our neighbors.

Because when the history of this generation is written, I wonder what will be remembered.

The politicians we defended?

The arguments we won?

The people we defeated?

Or the people we loved?

I wonder whether our children will remember a nation that taught them to fear one another or one that taught them to care for one another.

And I wonder whether the church will be remembered as a community that fought to control the world or one that courageously showed the world what the love of Jesus looks like.

America, the choice is before us.

We cannot change yesterday. We cannot control tomorrow. But we can decide who we will be today.

And perhaps the most important question of all is this:

When God looks at our lives—not our political parties, not our national symbols, not our public declarations of faith, but our hearts—will He see people who loved their neighbors as themselves?

Will He see people who cared for the least of these?

Will He see people who pursued justice, loved mercy, and walked humbly with Him?

Or will He see people who spent so much time fighting for power that they forgot what they were supposed to be fighting for?

May God forgive us where we have failed.

May He give us the courage to tell the truth.

May He soften the hearts we have allowed hatred to harden.

May He comfort those who are hurting, protect those who are vulnerable, and challenge those of us who have grown comfortable.

And may He remind us that the answer to a world filled with hatred is not more hatred.

It is a love strong enough to stand for truth, courageous enough to confront injustice, humble enough to admit its own failures, and faithful enough to serve even when nobody is watching.

America, wake up.

Not because one political party is evil.

Not because one election will save us.

But because we are in danger of forgetting what makes us human.

And, church, wake up.

Not to seize power.

Not to win a culture war.

But to return to Jesus.

Because the greatest revival America could ever experience would not begin with a political victory.

It would begin when ordinary people fall in love with Jesus again—and begin treating the people around them as if they actually believe what He taught.

That revival can begin in you.

It can begin in me.

It can begin today.

God, help us become the people we claim to be.

And may we never forget:

The strength of a nation is not measured only by the power it possesses, but by the love it is willing to give.

— A Call to America, 2026

Character Equals Currency

CHARACTER IS THE CURRENCY THAT WORKS WHEN EVERY OTHER TYPE OF CURRENCY HAS BEEN SPENT.

Money can buy access, but character earns trust. Power can open doors, but integrity keeps them open. Titles may give you status, but humility determines how people remember you.

In life, your words are your promise, your actions are your transactions, and your integrity is your credit score.

Every time you tell the truth, keep your word, take responsibility, or treat someone with respect, you make a deposit into your character account. Every time you compromise your values for personal gain, you make a withdrawal.

And unlike money, character cannot be borrowed, printed, or purchased. It must be earned through consistent choices and backed by a lifetime of conduct.

When your money runs out, your influence fades, and your position no longer carries weight, your character remains the currency that determines what your name is worth.

So invest wisely. Build your integrity. Protect your credibility. Keep your promises.

Because the greatest wealth you can accumulate is a character that never leaves you bankrupt when life demands your very best.

Your character is your capital. Your integrity is your credit. And your legacy is the wealth you leave behind. ~OC

Why Am I Still Alive?

Today’s a new day!

Twenty-four years. Multiple diagnoses. Countless tests, treatments, surgeries, hospitalizations, and moments when the future looked anything but certain. And somehow, by the grace of God, I am still here.

Sometimes I sit back and ask myself a question that I don’t always know how to answer.

WHY AM I STILL ALIVE?

I’m not asking that question for attention. I’m not asking it because I want people to feel sorry for me. And I’m certainly not asking it because I believe I’m stronger than someone else who didn’t survive their battle.

I’m asking because, after everything my body has endured over the last twenty-four years, there are moments when I honestly don’t understand how I’m still standing.

I’ve lived with multiple life threatening health issues. I have experienced moments when my health has deteriorated so badly that living another day wasn’t something I could take for granted.

I’ve heard the medical predictions. I’ve faced the uncertainty. I’ve endured the pain, the exhaustion, and the frustration of watching my body struggle to do things that once came naturally.

I’ve experienced moments when speaking was difficult, when my body wouldn’t cooperate, and when the future seemed to be slipping away from me.

I’ve spent time in intensive care. I’ve faced hospitalizations when things didn’t look good. I’ve experienced the kind of physical suffering that is difficult to explain to someone who hasn’t walked a similar road.

And through it all, one question continues to follow me.

WHY HAS GOD ALLOWED ME TO LIVE WHEN SO MANY TIMES IT SEEMED LIKE MY STORY SHOULD HAVE ENDED?

I wish I had a simple answer.

I don’t.

But I know this: JESUS. ONLY JESUS.

I’m not claiming that I understand every medical explanation, every close call, or every reason I’ve survived. I’m not suggesting that faith means we never need doctors, medicine, treatments, or the hands of medical professionals. God has worked through many of those people and resources in my life, and I am grateful for them.

I’m also not going to pretend that every day is a victory lap.

Some days hurt. Some nights seem endless. There are moments when the exhaustion runs deeper than words can explain. There are things I miss about the life I once had, and there are battles I never imagined I would have to fight.

My faith doesn’t make me immune to fear, frustration, grief, or questions.

Faith simply gives me somewhere to take those things.

I take them to Jesus.

Sometimes my prayers are long and full of words. Other times, all I can manage is a whisper. And sometimes, when I don’t have the strength to say anything at all, I simply hold on to the truth that He is still there.

I have learned that you don’t have to understand everything God is doing to trust Him with your life.

You don’t have to feel strong to keep believing.

And you don’t have to pretend everything is okay to have genuine faith.

I’M STILL HERE, BUT I’M NOT GOING TO PRETEND I KNOW WHY.

People sometimes talk about surviving as though it automatically makes someone a hero. But I don’t see myself that way.

I’m a husband. I’m a son. I’m a friend. I’m a child of God.

I’m a man who has experienced more medical battles than he ever expected, a man who has had to learn how to live with a body that doesn’t always cooperate, and a man who still has questions about what tomorrow might bring.

I’m not alive because I figured out some secret to beating every illness.

I’m not alive because I never became afraid.

And I’m certainly not alive because I have somehow earned more of God’s favor than someone who lost their battle.

I am still here, and I am deeply grateful for every additional day I have been given.

I believe Jesus has carried me through moments when I didn’t have the strength to carry myself. I believe His presence has sustained me when the circumstances around me offered very little comfort. I believe there is still purpose in loving people, encouraging others, sharing my faith, and telling the truth about what it means to walk through suffering.

But I cannot tell you with certainty why my story continues while someone else’s ended.

I won’t pretend to know God’s complete plan.

What I can tell you is that my survival has made me more aware of how precious life is, how fragile our bodies can be, and how desperately we need grace.

I no longer want to waste my life chasing things that don’t matter.

I want to love my wife well. I want to encourage the brokenhearted. I want to stand beside people who feel forgotten. I want to remind those who are struggling that their diagnoses do not erase their dignity, their value, or their identity.

I want people to see Jesus in the way I live, not simply in the words I write.

If I have another twenty years, I want to use them well.

If I have twenty more days, I want to use them well.

And if tomorrow brings another medical battle, I pray I will face it with the same Savior who has sustained me through the battles behind me.

Because the number of days I have left is not something I can control.

What I do with the day I’ve been given is something I can choose.

JESUS NEVER PROMISED ME AN EASY ROAD.

One of the hardest lessons I’ve learned is that following Jesus doesn’t mean we get to skip suffering.

Faithful people get sick.

Faithful people experience pain.

Faithful people sit beside hospital beds, receive devastating diagnoses, and sometimes bury the people they prayed would be healed.

And sometimes, despite our most desperate prayers, the outcome isn’t what we hoped for.

I believe in miracles. I’ve experienced moments in my own journey that I can only describe as miraculous. I believe God can heal, restore, strengthen, and do things beyond our understanding.

But I also believe that Jesus is worthy of our trust when healing doesn’t come the way we prayed it would.

My faith cannot depend entirely on whether my body gets better.

If I make physical healing the only evidence of God’s goodness, what happens on the days when my symptoms worsen? What happens when another diagnosis arrives? What happens when I wake up hurting?

Does that mean God has abandoned me?

No.

My circumstances may change. My physical abilities may change. My future may look different from the one I imagined.

But my identity in Christ does not depend on the condition of my body.

Paul wrote in 2 Corinthians 12:9 that God’s grace is sufficient and that His power is made perfect in weakness.

That Scripture means something different to me now than it did before I became seriously ill.

I understand that weakness isn’t always something we overcome in the way we hoped. Sometimes weakness is something we learn to live with while discovering that God’s grace is still sufficient.

Sometimes overcoming means getting out of bed.

Sometimes it means enduring another treatment.

Sometimes it means asking for help when our pride tells us not to.

Sometimes it means crying, praying, and getting through one more difficult day.

And sometimes, overcoming simply means refusing to believe that our suffering has made our lives meaningless.

I AM STILL AN OVERCOMER, EVEN ON THE DAYS WHEN I FEEL OVERWHELMED.

Not because I always win the battles I fight, but because my identity is rooted in the One who holds me through them.

SO, WHY AM I STILL ALIVE?

After twenty-four years of health battles, I could give you a dozen answers.

Medical professionals have treated me. My wife, Laura, has stood beside me through more than most people could imagine. Family and friends have prayed for me. People have encouraged me when I needed encouragement.

I am grateful for every single one of them.

But when I look back over the moments when I wondered whether I would survive, when I think about the times I had almost nothing left to give, and when I consider how much of this journey has been beyond my control, I keep coming back to the same place.

JESUS.

Not because I can explain every moment.

Not because I know what tomorrow holds.

Not because I believe I am guaranteed another miracle.

But because, in the middle of all my unanswered questions, He remains the foundation of my faith.

I don’t know how many more years I have.

I don’t know what the next diagnosis, treatment, or hospitalization might bring.

I don’t know whether the hardest part of my journey is behind me or still ahead.

But I know I don’t want to spend whatever time I have left living in fear of what might happen.

I want to live with purpose.

I want to love deeply.

I want to forgive freely.

I want to encourage relentlessly.

I want to tell people about the hope I’ve found in Jesus without pretending that following Him makes life easy.

And I want to remind people who are fighting battles of their own that they are more than the worst thing that has happened to them.

You are more than your diagnosis.

You are more than your mistakes.

You are more than the opinions of people who don’t understand your journey.

And you are not forgotten simply because your life looks different from the one you imagined.

I cannot promise you that everything will work out the way you want it to. I cannot promise that every prayer will be answered in the way you hope.

But I can tell you that you do not have to walk through your suffering alone.

Jesus meets us in the broken places. He gives us grace for the moments when we have none left to give ourselves. And He reminds us that our worth was never determined by our strength, our health, or our ability to keep everything together.

I am still here. I am still fighting. I am still believing. And I am still trusting Jesus.

Not because I have all the answers.

But because I know where to turn when I don’t.

Twenty-four years ago, I could never have imagined the road I would travel. I never would have chosen it. I would never wish these battles on anyone.

But I am here.

And as long as I am here, I want my life to point beyond me.

I want people to see more than a man with multiple medical diagnoses. I want them to see a husband who loves his wife, a friend who cares about people, a man who still believes in the power of prayer, and a child of God who is learning to trust Jesus one day at a time.

I don’t need to understand every chapter to be grateful that my story is still being written.

And I don’t need to know how many pages remain to make the next one count.

WHY AM I STILL ALIVE?

I don’t know the complete answer.

But I know who I am trusting with the question.

His name is Jesus.

And until He calls me home, I will keep loving, keep serving, keep believing, keep encouraging, and keep overcoming.

Not perfectly.

Not without pain.

Not without questions.

But by His grace, one day at a time.

ONLY JESUS KNOWS WHY I’M STILL HERE. SO, JESUS, WHILE I’M HERE, PLEASE HELP ME MAKE MY LIFE COUNT.

“For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain.” — Philippians 1:21

KEEP FIGHTING. KEEP BELIEVING. KEEP LOVING. KEEP OVERCOMING.

Your health issues may be part of your story, but they do not get to define the entirety of your life. Your story is still about the person you love, the people you encourage, the grace you extend, and the Jesus you follow.

— A Blessed Overcomer, still walking by faith. ~OC

Hope Refuses To Give Up

Hope is not wishful thinking that somehow everything will work out. Hope is the unshakable conviction that injustice will not win, death will not have the final word, and darkness will never overcome the light.

But hope is more than something we believe. It’s something we live.

Hope prays when the answers don’t come. Hope peacefully protests when injustice prevails. Hope weeps when hearts are broken. Hope keeps showing up when walking away would be easier.

Hope refuses to accept that the way things are is the way things must always be.

As Christians, our hope is rooted in Jesus Christ. We serve a Savior who conquered the grave, defeated death, and reminds us that even when the world looks hopeless, God is not finished writing the story.

So don’t just talk about hope. Live it. Fight for justice. Stand with the hurting. Love your neighbor. Speak truth. Keep showing up.

Hope is not passive waiting. Hope is active persistence. And as long as God gives us another day, we have another opportunity to make a difference.

“Let us not grow weary in doing good.” — Galatians 6:9

KEEP HOPING. KEEP STANDING. KEEP SHOWING UP. THE STORY ISN’T OVER! ~OC

Twenty Reasons to Get Out of Bed Every Day

Sometimes getting out of bed can be tough.

Can I get an amen?

As I have walked this crazy, beautiful health journey, I have learned a few lessons. I have learned that some mornings begin with pain. Some begin with exhaustion. Some begin with questions we don’t have answers for. And some mornings, simply putting your feet on the floor feels like an accomplishment.

But I’ve also learned something else:

As long as God gives us another day, there is still a reason to get up.

So, from someone who has learned to keep fighting, keep believing, and keep overcoming, here are 20 reasons to get out of bed every day:

1. Because you woke up.

Every new morning is a gift. Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow isn’t promised. But today is here.

2. Because God isn’t finished with you.

If you’re still here, your story isn’t over. There is still purpose in your life.

3. Because someone needs you.

Your spouse, your children, your family, your friends, your church, your neighbor—or someone you haven’t even met yet.

4. Because there is still someone to love.

Love isn’t just something we receive. It’s something we give away.

5. Because there is still someone who needs encouragement.

Sometimes your simple “I’m praying for you” can change someone’s entire day.

6. Because your testimony matters.

Someone may be watching how you walk through your storm. Your scars may become someone else’s hope.

7. Because pain doesn’t get the final word.

Pain may be part of your story, but it doesn’t have to define your story.

8. Because there are still miracles to witness.

Sometimes miracles look like healing. Sometimes they look like strength to make it through another day.

9. Because you can still make a difference.

You don’t have to change the entire world. Sometimes changing one person’s world is enough.

10. Because tomorrow’s blessing may require today’s obedience.

You may not understand what God is doing today. Keep walking anyway.

11. Because there are still memories to make.

There are sunsets you haven’t seen, conversations you haven’t had, places you haven’t visited and moments you haven’t experienced.

12. Because laughter is still waiting for you.

Life can be incredibly hard, but there is still room for joy.

13. Because somebody needs to hear your story.

Never underestimate what God can do with a life that refuses to give up.

14. Because you are more than your circumstances.

Your diagnosis isn’t your identity. Your failures aren’t your identity. Your worst day isn’t your identity.

15. Because there is still work to do.

Maybe it’s big. Maybe it’s small. Maybe it’s simply loving the person standing beside you. It all matters.

16. Because hope is still alive.

Even when you can’t see the way forward, you can take the next step.

17. Because God can bring beauty from brokenness.

Some of the most beautiful things in life can grow from the hardest seasons.

18. Because someone else needs to see you keep going.

Your perseverance may give someone else permission to believe they can keep going too.

19. Because you haven’t seen the end of your story.

Don’t close the book while God is still writing the chapters.

20. Because Jesus is still with you.

Through the good days. Through the bad days. Through the pain, fear, uncertainty and exhaustion.

You are never walking alone.

So tomorrow morning, when getting out of bed feels impossible, start small.

Put your feet on the floor.

Take a breath.

Say a prayer.

And whisper:

“Lord, thank You for another day. I don’t know what today will bring, but I’m still here. I’m still fighting. I’m still believing. I’m still overcoming. Let’s see what You can do with this day.”

Then get up.

Not because every day will be easy.

But because every day is still worth living.

Keep fighting.
Keep believing.
Keep loving.
Keep overcoming.

And most importantly—

Keep Jesus at the center of it all.

Today is a new day.

Get up. God isn’t finished with you yet. ~OC

Tomorrow’s

No One Knows How Many Tomorrow’s Are In A Lifetime…

So I’ve stopped taking them for granted.

That’s one of the greatest lessons chronic illness has ever taught me.

For more than two decades, I’ve lived with something most people don’t see.

Behind the smiles are hospital rooms.

Behind the laughter are tears.

Behind the encouraging words are moments of fear that I’ve never shared with anyone.

There have been nights when I’ve laid in a hospital bed listening to the machines around me, wondering what tomorrow would look like.

There have been moments when I had to confront something none of us really want to think about:

I could die.

Not someday in some distant future.

But maybe sooner than I thought.

When death becomes more than a word—when it becomes a possibility sitting at the foot of your hospital bed—it changes the way you see everything.

You stop worrying so much about things that don’t matter.

You start caring more about the people you love.

You become grateful for things you once overlooked.

A sunrise.

A conversation.

A laugh.

A hug.

Another morning.

Another breath.

Another chance to tell someone, “I love you.”

Another opportunity to say, “Jesus has been good to me.”

Chronic illness has forced me to stretch the limits of my faith.

There have been moments when faith was the only thing I had left.

And sometimes my faith wasn’t strong.

Sometimes all I could whisper was:

“Jesus, please get me through tonight.”

And somehow, He did.

Not always by changing my circumstances.

But by changing me in the middle of them.

I’ve learned that thriving with chronic illness doesn’t mean pretending everything is okay.

It doesn’t mean putting a smile on your face and hiding the pain.

It means being honest enough to say,

“This hurts.”

“I’m scared.”

“I’m tired.”

“I don’t understand.”

…and then somehow finding enough faith to say,

“But God, I’m still trusting You.”

That’s where writing came into my life.

During those long hospital stays, when the hours seemed to crawl by, I started writing simply to pass the time.

I didn’t know what it would become.

I just knew I had emotions trapped inside of me that needed somewhere to go.

So I wrote.

I wrote when I was scared.

I wrote when I was angry.

I wrote when I was hurting.

I wrote when I was grateful.

I wrote when I couldn’t understand what God was doing.

And I wrote when I needed to remind myself that God was still there.

Eventually, writing became a daily habit.

And somewhere along the way, I realized something:

Maybe these words aren’t just for me.

Maybe that hospital bed wasn’t only a place where I was fighting for my own life.

Maybe it was also a place where God was teaching me how to speak hope into someone else’s.

Because somewhere out there, someone is sitting in a hospital room tonight.

Someone is staring at a diagnosis they never expected.

Someone is crying where nobody can see them.

Someone is terrified about tomorrow.

Someone is wondering if their life still has meaning.

Someone is asking God,

“Why am I still here?”

And if my words can reach even one of those people and whisper,

“Please don’t give up. You’re not alone.”

then maybe the pain wasn’t completely wasted.

That’s what I’ve come to understand about purpose.

Sometimes purpose doesn’t come wrapped in something beautiful.

Sometimes purpose comes wrapped in pain.

Sometimes God takes the chapters we would have gladly erased and uses them to write hope into somebody else’s story.

I wouldn’t have chosen this journey.

I wouldn’t have chosen the illnesses.

I wouldn’t have chosen the hospital stays.

I wouldn’t have chosen the fear.

I wouldn’t have chosen the uncertainty.

But I can choose what I do with it.

I can let it destroy me.

Or I can place it in God’s hands and say,

“Use this, Lord.”

Use my scars.

Use my tears.

Use my failures.

Use my fears.

Use my story.

Use every broken piece of me.

Just don’t let my suffering be meaningless.

Because I don’t know how many pages are left in my story.

And neither do you.

That’s the truth we don’t like to talk about.

Every one of us is living on borrowed time.

We just don’t know how much time is left.

So I’m trying to stop counting the years…

and start counting the moments.

I’m trying to embrace the time God gives me instead of being consumed by the time I don’t have.

I’m trying to live while I’m alive.

To love while I can.

To forgive while I can.

To encourage while I can.

To write while I can.

To tell people about Jesus while I can.

To leave a little more hope in this world than I found.

Because one day, all of us will write our final sentence.

And when that day comes, I don’t want my greatest regret to be all the things I was too afraid to do.

I want to know that I used what God gave me.

That I loved people.

That I encouraged people.

That I prayed for people. 

That I made somebody feel less alone.

That I pointed somebody toward Jesus.

That I didn’t allow my illness to steal the purpose and joy God placed inside of me.

So…

I will keep writing.

Even when my hands are tired.

Even when my heart is heavy.

Even when my thoughts are harder to find.

Even when the words come through tears.

Because there is still something inside of me that needs to be said.

And there is still somebody who may need to hear it.

I don’t know how many tomorrows I have.

But I have today.

And today is enough.

Today, I can love.

Today, I can pray.

Today, I can encourage.

Today, I can write.

Today, I can live.

Today, I can tell somebody,

“Don’t give up.”

And today, I can look toward Heaven and say:

“Thank You, God, for one more day.”

I don’t know how my story ends.

But I know Who holds the pen.

And until He writes “The End,”

I’m going to keep turning the page…and live. ~OC

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