Tag: healing

Facing Your Giants

Today’s a new day! 

Every morning on this crazy, beautiful health journey, I’m faced with a decision. I can wake up and allow the giants called my health issues to define me and dictate the direction of my day, or I can choose something greater. I can face those giants head on by placing them in God’s hands and trusting that His plan is bigger than my fears, my pain, and my uncertainty. Some days the giants feel loud and overwhelming, but faith reminds me that they are never bigger than the God who walks beside me.

So today, I choose to fight. I choose to be the warrior Jesus created me to be. I refuse to live like a person who is dying when God has filled me with life, purpose, and strength. I am a person very much alive, with a lot of fight left in me. Every step forward—no matter how small—is a declaration that hope is still winning. God didn’t create us to surrender to fear; He created us to stand firm in faith and trust Him in the battle.

As you face your own giants today—whether they are health struggles, fear, loss, or uncertainty—I pray you will place them in God’s hands and let Him fight for you. You don’t have to carry every burden alone. When we release our battles to Him, we find strength we didn’t know we had and peace that only He can provide. Stay focused on His promises. Stay strong in your faith. And keep running your race knowing that through Him, you are running in victory. ~OC

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

1

Health of the American Church: My Opinion Only

This year I celebrate fifty years of following Jesus. Half a century of prayer, growth, failure, repentance, and grace. Have I been perfect in my walk with Him? Absolutely not. But I have strived to serve Him with my life, to get back up when I stumbled, and to keep my eyes fixed on the One who never changes. Over the decades, I’ve watched our culture shift in ways I never could have imagined. When I was a child, a politician would have never used the kind of language we hear today—let alone have it cheered on. Religious leaders boldly stood for God’s Word without apology. Their primary concern wasn’t political influence or access to power; it was faithfulness. Today, too often, the focus seems to be more on who’s in the White House than on the One who created it all.

The numbers tell a sobering story. According to Gallup, public trust in clergy has steadily declined over the years. When I was growing up, around 87% of Americans said they trusted pastors. By 2025, that number had reportedly fallen to 27%. And while statistics never tell the whole story, they do raise an important question: Can you blame people? Too many religious leaders appear more invested in growing their social media platforms than shepherding their congregations. Some seem more engaged with the latest TikTok trend than with the single mom quietly struggling in the third pew. Of course, this does not apply to every church in America. Thank God, there are still a few faithful pastors who care more about God’s truth than cultural applause.

I still love the Church. After fifty years, my commitment hasn’t wavered—but my concern has deepened. I grieve when I see compromise where there should be conviction, branding where there should be brokenness, and performance where there should be prayer. Yet I remain hopeful. Christ has sustained His Church through every generation, every scandal, every cultural upheaval. My prayer is that we return to the simplicity of devotion to Him—not chasing relevance, not courting political favor, but humbly serving God and loving people well. Fifty years in, I am still following Jesus, still learning, still trusting that He is not finished with His Church—or with me. ~OC

0

Reflect Jesus

Dear Christian Brothers and Sisters,

Jesus can use broken people. If you truly study scripture, you will read that God often chose the weary, the wounded, and the overlooked to display His glory. From the suffering faith of Job to the thorn that humbled Paul the Apostle,  we are reminded that God’s power is not limited to perfect circumstances or pain-free lives. Some receive miraculous healing on this side of Heaven. Others pray with the same faith, the same tears, and the same surrender—and continue walking through illness or hardship. And there are those who once experienced a miracle,  only to find themselves facing another battle.This does not mean they lost their miracle.  It does not mean they have unresolved sin.  It does not mean they lack faith. It means they are human, living in a fallen world where suffering is still part of the journey.

We must stop spreading false doctrine that wounds the already hurting. When we imply that someone’s continued struggle is the result of weak faith or hidden sin, we misrepresent the heart of Christ. God never shamed the suffering;  He drew near to them.  He wept with them.  He touched the untouchable and sat with the rejected. The same Savior who healed bodies also carried a cross. He understands both deliverance and endurance. Jesus loves those who receive beautiful healings on earth just as much as He loves those who will receive their ultimate healing in Heaven. Our calling is not to judge or diagnose someone else’s spiritual condition, but to reflect God’s love, kindness, and compassion. Let us be people who comfort rather than condemn, who encourage rather than accuse, and who walk alongside the suffering with grace that looks like Jesus. ~OC

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

0

The Gospel

I never want the Gospel to grow old in my heart. I never want it to become background noise—familiar words that pass by without weight or wonder. The message at the center of the Christian faith is not just a story I heard once in Sunday school; it is the living, breathing good news of Jesus Christ—His life, His sacrifice, and His resurrection. It is the reminder that grace was never earned, only given. That mercy met me at my worst. That love chose the cross anyway. When I think about it, really think about it, I’m undone. The Gospel is not basic. It is not entry-level Christianity. It is the foundation, the heartbeat, the reason any of this matters at all.

If I am not careful, familiarity can tempt my heart toward callousness. I can quote verses without trembling. I can sing worship songs without reflecting on the cost. I can speak about the cross as a concept instead of remembering it as a rescue. But the Gospel was never meant to be reduced to routine. It is the power of God to save, to transform, to renew weary souls. It confronts my pride and comforts my shame at the same time. It reminds me that I am more sinful than I want to admit and more loved than I dare to hope.

I never want to outgrow what saved me. I never want to move past the wonder that God would step into human history, bear human suffering, and conquer death so that we could be reconciled to Him. The message of the cross should still stop me in my tracks. It should still soften my heart. It should still bring me to gratitude. If the Gospel ever feels small to me, it is not because it has lost its power—it is because I have lost my perspective. So I pray for fresh awe. I pray for tender ground in my soul. Because the Gospel is not old news. It is eternal good news, and I never want to treat it as anything less. ~OC

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

0

Faith and Trust

Today’s a new day! We don’t always need to know what’s next. So often, we exhaust ourselves trying to map out every detail, predict every outcome, and control every turn ahead. But faith was never about having all the answers — it’s about trusting the One who does. Even when the path feels unclear and the future seems uncertain, we can rest in the truth that God is never confused, never late, and never unprepared. What feels unknown to us is already fully seen and carefully planned by Him.

There is peace in surrender. There is strength in faith. When we release the pressure of needing to “figure it all out,” we make room for trust to grow. We may not know what’s next, but we know Who goes before us. And that is more than enough. ~OC

0

Prophetic Voice

When the Church cozy’s up to a politician
or pledges her allegiance to a political party,
she trades her prophetic roar for a press release.
She swaps sackcloth for silk,
the narrow road for a red carpet,
the upper room for the echo chamber.

The prophets of old did not sit at the king’s table
to secure influence—
they stood in the courtyard and declared,
“Thus says the Lord.”
They were not invited to strategy meetings.
They were summoned by fire.
They did not ask which side was in power;
they asked who had forgotten justice,
who had neglected mercy,
who had abandoned humility before God.

When the Church wraps herself too tightly
in the flag of any nation
or the platform of any party,
her voice becomes selective.
She whispers about sins that fit her narrative
and goes silent about the ones
that threaten her access.
But the Kingdom of Heaven
has never needed polling data.
It has never bowed to election cycles.
It does not campaign—
it transforms.

The prophetic voice is not partisan.
It confronts the left and the right.
It comforts the broken and challenges the proud.
It speaks truth to power
even when power writes the check.
Because once the Church fears losing influence
more than losing integrity,
she has already surrendered her authority.

The Church was never meant to be
the chaplain of empire.
She was called to be light in darkness,
salt in decay,
a city on a hill—
not a mascot on a stage.

So let her return to her first love.
Let her trade proximity for purity.
Let her be known not for who she endorses,
but for Who she follows.
And when she speaks again—
may it not sound like an echo
of a campaign speech,
but like thunder rolling down from heaven,
reminding every throne and every voter alike:
there is still a King
who does not run for office. ~OC

***You can check out the Spoken Word version of this post at Todd E. Shoemaker Music.

0

Even In The ICU

As I sit here in ICU, my body is struggling. It’s tired from such a long battle. Every breath feels heavier than it used to. The steady rhythm of the beeping machines reminds me just how fragile this earthly body can be. And yet, in the middle of all of it, I feel a peace — a peace that surpasses all understanding, like the kind described in Philippians 4:6–7. 

My journey doesn’t make sense by human standards. Circumstances say fear. The monitors say concern. The weakness says exhaustion. But my spirit says peace. Jesus is here in this room, and that changes everything.

I do not totally understand why God chose me to walk this crazy, beautiful health journey… but He did. And because He did, I can trust that He has purpose in it. In my weakness, I turn to Him for strength. In my uncertainty, I turn to Him for guidance. If He can use these words written from an ICU bed to encourage even one person, then it’s worth it. 

My desire is simply to be a humble servant. I don’t crave a platform. I have no desire to be a social influencer. I’m not chasing fame or recognition. My only desire is to serve Jesus and to love and serve others well. If that service happens from a hospital room in Intensive Care, then I humbly accept the assignment. 

Whether standing on a stage or lying in a hospital bed, my calling remains the same: to reflect His love. This body may be weary, but my spirit is willing. And as long as there is breath in my lungs, I will continue to point people to the One who gives true hope and peace — even in the ICU. ~OC

0

My Four Warriors

Years ago, on a late-night walk,
when the world was quiet and the streetlights hummed their soft hallelujah,
Jesus pulled back the thin veil between seen and unseen.
He whispered to my spirit what my eyes had never known—
that since my first breath,
since the cry that filled that delivery room,
four angels had stood at attention.

Eight feet tall.
Clothed not in linen, but in readiness.
Always dressed for battle.
Not nervous.
Not distracted.
Not sleeping.
Posted at the corners of my life like eternal sentinels.


They were there in childhood laughter,
there in teenage confusion,
there in every hallway I ever walked
thinking I was alone.

When fear tried to shake my foundation,
when sickness tried to write the final chapter,
when doubt whispered, “This is the end”—
they tightened their grip on their swords
and reminded darkness
it had picked the wrong person.

I didn’t always see them—
but they saw everything.
Every tear.
Every prayer.
Every silent plea breathed into a midnight ceiling fan.


And last night—
as the doors of Intensive Care opened
and machines began their mechanical chorus—
beep…
beep…
beep…

I saw them again.

My four Warriors.
Surrounding the room.
One at each corner.
Unmoved by monitors.
Unshaken by reports.
Unafraid of charts and statistics.

Eight feet tall.
Dressed for battle.
Eyes steady.
Peace radiating from them like armor polished by heaven.

Yes, I can see them.


They don’t speak loudly.
They don’t need to.
Their presence is a declaration.

Fear cannot cross this line.
Anxiety cannot occupy this space.
Hopelessness must remain outside the door.

Because where heaven stations warriors,
peace follows.

And as I lay in that hospital bed,
tubes and wires trying to define me,
I felt something stronger than pain—
I felt protected.

Not because the storm wasn’t real,
but because I was not facing it alone.


So let the night be dark.
Let the battle rage in unseen places.
Let the ICU lights flicker against the silence.

I rest.

For since birth, I have been covered.
Since breath number one, I have been guarded.
And when Jesus reveals what’s been fighting for you all along,
peace becomes more than a feeling—
it becomes a fact.

Four angels.
Eight feet tall.
Always dressed for battle.

And tonight,
they are still standing. ~OC

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

0

Love And Redemption

Today’s a new day! From the garden where creation bloomed in light,
Where You walked with Adam and Eve in the cool of night,
Every promise whispered in the fall,
You had a plan to redeem us all
Through the prophets and the years of waiting,
Love was writing history in the making.

In a manger lay the Hope of man,
God incarnate, the great I Am,
Healing hearts and calming seas,
Carrying chains to Calvary
On that Cross where mercy bled,
You bore our sin, the crown of thorns on Your head.

But the stone was rolled and death undone,
The grave could not hold Heaven’s Son,
Resurrection morning broke,
Living hope in every soul
The Spirit came like wind and flame,
Empowering us to lift Your name.

And one bright day the sky will part,
Trumpets sound and every heart
Will see the King in glorious light,
Faith made sight, wrong made right
Every knee will bow and sing,
Jesus Christ is Lord and King.

From the Garden to the Cross,
From the grave to glory’s dawn,
Father, the risen Son, to the Holy Spirit-our Helper,
The story of love goes on and on
Hallelujah, we proclaim,
Salvation written in Your name,
Three in One, forever reign,
All honor, all power, all praise. ~OC

0

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑