Tag: Life

How’s Your Soul?

Today’s a new day! There’s a question that slips past the noise of everyday life and settles gently into the quiet places of the heart: How is your soul? Not your schedule. Not your productivity. Not your public image. Your soul. In a world that measures worth by output and applause, your inner life can slowly become neglected. Yet your soul is where peace either grows or withers. It’s where hope is anchored. It’s where love is formed. When was the last time you paused long enough to listen to what’s happening inside you? The soul doesn’t shout; it whispers. It reveals its condition in your level of patience, in your reactions under pressure, in the way you treat people when no one is watching.

And in that quiet place, another question follows: How is Jesus speaking to you? Sometimes He speaks through Scripture that suddenly feels alive and personal. Sometimes through conviction — a gentle nudge redirecting your attitude or your steps. Sometimes through deep comfort in a season of grief or uncertainty. Often, His voice is not dramatic but steady, like a shepherd guiding sheep with familiarity and care. You may sense Him inviting you to forgive, to rest, to trust, or to step out in courage. The voice of Jesus does not produce shame or fear; it produces clarity, love, and a deeper awareness of who you are becoming.

If your soul feels tired, Jesus may be whispering, “Come to Me.” If it feels restless, perhaps He is inviting you to surrender control. If it feels distant, maybe He is simply asking you to return — not with perfection, but with honesty. The health of your soul is not determined by how flawless you are, but by how willing you are to remain connected to Him. Slow down. Ask the questions. Listen without rushing. Your soul matters more than your success ever will, and Jesus is still speaking — often in the silence we try so hard to avoid. ~OC

***Check out the Spoken Word of this post at my YouTube page Todd E. Shoemaker Music.

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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

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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.

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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

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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.

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A Life Of Significance

Today’s a new day! This crazy beautiful health journey has taught me so many lessons over the years. There have been mountaintop victories and quiet valley battles—moments when strength felt limitless and others when even getting out of bed felt like a triumph. I’ve learned that health isn’t just about numbers on a chart; it’s about gratitude, surrender, and perspective. It’s about understanding that every breath is a gift and every setback can become a teacher. Pain has a way of refining what comfort never could. It strips away the noise and reveals what truly matters.

For me, one of the most important lessons has been this: LIVE A LIFE OF SIGNIFICANCE. Not a life chasing applause. Not a life measured by likes, titles, or temporary victories. But a life poured out with purpose. A life rooted in faith. A life for Jesus. Significance isn’t about being known by everyone—it’s about being faithful to the One who knows you completely. When I choose to live for Christ, my journey- every struggle, every breakthrough—becomes an offering. My scars tell a story of grace. My perseverance becomes a testimony. Living for Jesus transforms ordinary days into eternal impact, and that is a legacy worth building. ~OC

***You can check out the spoken word version on my YouTube Channel Todd E Shoemaker Music.

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Where’s The Iron?

Today’s a new day. And before I say anything else, I want to say thank you to the very few friends who have stayed by my side during this crazy, beautiful health journey. You know who you are. You are definitely in the minority. Your texts, your calls, your presence — not just your emojis — have meant more than you’ll ever know. It’s both funny and heartbreaking how someone can be celebrated as the “flavor of the month” for a season in the Christian community, applauded, platformed, and praised… yet the moment that same person enters a difficult health season, many quietly disappear. Some walk away from the responsibility to love and care as quickly as you can say, “Bless your heart, I’ll be praying for you.”

I’ve seen this especially in Christian men’s circles. Brotherhood is preached. Loyalty is applauded. Accountability is emphasized. But when things get uncomfortable — when illness lingers, when strength looks like weakness, when there’s nothing flashy or impressive to celebrate — friendships often fade. A thumbs up on a post. Prayer hands in a text. Maybe an occasional visit to check a box. And while those gestures aren’t meaningless, they’re not the fullness of brotherhood either. I’m not writing this from a place of anger. I’m writing from disappointment. There’s a difference. Disappointment comes from believing we can do better — that we’re called to do better.

Over the years, I’ve sat in countless men’s Bible studies where words like “iron sharpens iron” and “we’re in this together” are boldly proclaimed. Yet consistent, sacrificial friendship — the kind that shows up over and over again — is rare. And I share this not just for myself, but for the many brothers silently carrying their own battles. Health struggles. Mental strain. Financial pressure. Family heartbreak. So many men are walking through something and feel like they’re walking alone. That shouldn’t be the testimony of the Church.

I truly pray no one ever has to walk the specific health road I’m on. But if you ever do face your own long night, I pray you don’t just receive words — I pray you feel presence. I pray you’re surrounded by brothers who stay. Brothers who check in consistently. Brothers who sit in silence when needed. Brothers who don’t vanish when the spotlight fades.

Today’s a new day. And maybe this is a call for all of us — myself included — to love deeper, stay longer, and live out the brotherhood we so easily preach about.

Thanks for taking the time to read this. May the love and peace of God rest upon each of you. ~OC

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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

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Church Silence

Today’s a new day! I am deeply thankful for my church home and for a pastor who is not afraid to speak truth, even when it is uncomfortable. Yesterday, during service, my pastor directly addressed the racist post made by the current President of the United States. In a time when silence has become the easier choice, I am proud of his commitment to confront the issues of our world when they intersect with faith, justice, and the teachings of Jesus. The church was never meant to exist in isolation, sealed off from the pain, hatred, and injustice happening beyond its walls. Faith that refuses to engage the real world is not faith at all—it is avoidance.

That said, I can’t help but ask an important and uncomfortable question: did your pastor address racism yesterday? And if not, why not? It saddens me when churches turn a blind eye to what is happening outside the four walls of their sanctuary. Whether out of fear, concern over attendance, or a desire to remain “neutral,” silence in the face of racism speaks volumes. Personally, I could not belong to a church that is either afraid to address the issues our world faces or willingly chooses to ignore them. Following Jesus means standing for truth, love, and justice—even when it costs us something. Anything less is a distortion of the Gospel. ~OC

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Take Our Brokenness

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him,who have been called according to His purpose.” ~Romans 8:28

Today’s a new day! Sometimes, God allows us to experience broken bodies so that we can realize we have an even greater need—a broken heart. A broken heart that needs Him. If we will let Him, God wants to take our broken hearts, and pour His love in. That is part of the “good” that He wants to work for us in the Scripture verse above. He wants to heal our brokenness, and in so doing, bring good out of it. And then, as only God can do, He wants to work through us to show a world of hurting and broken hearts that He can do the same for them. That is part of what He means when He says that we have been “called according to His purpose.”

God actually has a purpose for each and every one of us. No matter how broken we feel inside, God has a purpose for us. We may not see how, but God can take broken bodies and broken hearts and use them for good in His great purposes. All He needs is a willing heart. 

We often feel, though, that we are too big of a mess for God to accept. But in reality, He desperately wants us to turn to Him in the middle of our mess and lift our arms up to Him, just like when we were a child and we turned to our parents or grandparents in the middle of a mess that was often from our own doing. 

All that God needs is a willing heart. Because if we are willing, even though we may feel like we’re are a total mess, God will honor whatever faith we can muster, and take our brokenness and turn it into something truly beautiful.

 Dear God, I pray that You will take our brokenness and use it for good in your great purposes. I pray that You will use our “I can’t” situations to show us what You CAN do and want to do in our lives. Thank you, God, for hearing our prayer. In Jesus’ great name, Amen.” ~OC

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