More Questions Than Answers

When I was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease in 2007, my world changed in an instant.

Like so many others, I immediately began asking the questions we all ask after receiving life-changing news. What caused this? Could I have prevented it?

One thing stood out immediately: there was no family history of Parkinson’s disease.

No parents.
No grandparents.
No siblings.
No known relatives.

That didn’t answer the question—it only deepened the mystery.

Looking Beyond Genetics

For many years, Parkinson’s was often thought of as a disease that was primarily genetic. We now know that while genetics can play a role for some people, the majority of Parkinson’s cases are considered sporadic, meaning they occur without a clear inherited cause.

Researchers increasingly believe that Parkinson’s develops through a combination of genetics and environmental exposures. For many of us, the environment may play a much larger role than we once realized.

That realization raises important questions.

What have we been exposed to over a lifetime?

Pesticides.
Industrial chemicals.
Solvents.
Air pollution.
Contaminated water.
Heavy metals.

Scientists continue to study how long-term exposure to these and other environmental factors may increase the risk of developing Parkinson’s disease. While research is ongoing and not every case has the same cause, the growing body of evidence suggests that our surroundings matter.

We Need to Pay Attention

This isn’t about creating fear.

It’s about creating awareness.

If environmental factors contribute to Parkinson’s disease, then we should be investing far more into understanding those risks, reducing harmful exposures where possible, and protecting future generations.

We cannot change yesterday.

But perhaps we can change tomorrow.

That means funding more research.
Supporting environmental health initiatives.
Helping identify communities at higher risk.
And continuing to ask difficult questions until we find better answers.

My Journey

Nearly twenty years after my diagnosis, I’ve lived through far more than I ever imagined.

Parkinson’s became only one chapter in a much larger health journey that has also included Myasthenia Gravis and many other unexpected challenges.

I’ve experienced seasons of strength and seasons of weakness.

There have been victories, setbacks, miracles, disappointments, and countless lessons along the way.

If I’ve learned anything, it’s this:

A diagnosis may change your life, but it does not define your life.

I am still here.

I still have purpose.

I still believe God is writing my story.

A Call for Hope and Action

As someone living with Parkinson’s, I hope that one day we won’t simply ask how to manage this disease—we’ll know how to prevent many cases before they ever begin.

That will require courageous research.
Honest conversations.
Environmental responsibility.
And a commitment to putting people ahead of convenience or profit.

My prayer is that future generations will benefit from the questions my generation has had to ask.

Until then, I’ll continue sharing my story.

Because every story matters.

Every patient matters.

Every family matters.

And every step we take toward understanding Parkinson’s disease brings us one step closer to hope.

“We may not know exactly why every person develops Parkinson’s disease, but we owe it to those living with it—and to those who come after us—to keep searching for answers. Hope grows wherever truth is pursued.” ~OC

How Politics Poisoned the Evangelical Church

There was a time when the Church was known primarily for its love.

People may not have agreed with Christians, but they knew what we stood for. We were known for feeding the hungry, caring for widows and orphans, visiting prisoners, defending the vulnerable, proclaiming the Gospel, and pointing people to Jesus Christ.

Today, far too often, something else defines us.

Politics.

Somewhere along the way, many evangelical churches stopped asking, “What would Jesus do?” and started asking, “What does my political party think?” The result has been devastating—not just for the Church, but for our witness to the world.

When Politics Becomes an Idol

Politics is not inherently evil. Christians should care about justice, the sanctity of life, religious liberty, racial reconciliation, the poor, immigration, education, and every issue that affects our neighbors.

Government matters.

Voting matters.

Civic engagement matters.

But politics becomes dangerous when it becomes our identity instead of Christ.

The moment our political party becomes more important than the Kingdom of God, we have crossed from stewardship into idolatry.

Jesus never called us to build an earthly political kingdom.

He called us to build His Kingdom.

Those are not always the same thing.

Trading the Gospel for Political Influence

For decades, many evangelical leaders believed that if they could gain enough political power, America could be transformed into a Christian nation.

But Scripture never teaches that governments transform hearts.

The Holy Spirit does.

Laws can restrain evil.

Only Jesus can redeem sinners.

When the Church puts its hope in elections instead of evangelism, or in politicians instead of Christ, it has misplaced its confidence.

The early Church changed the Roman Empire without controlling Caesar.

They preached Christ.

They loved sacrificially.

They endured persecution.

They served the poor.

They forgave their enemies.

That was their strategy.

We Began Excusing What We Once Condemned

One of the saddest consequences of political tribalism has been our willingness to excuse sin when it benefits our side.

We condemn dishonesty until our candidate lies.

We denounce sexual immorality until someone on “our team” is guilty.

We oppose hatred until it is directed at people we dislike.

We defend the fruit of the Spirit until anger and cruelty become politically useful.

This is not discipleship.

This is compromise.

The Gospel calls us to the same standard regardless of who sits in the White House.

We Forgot Our Mission

Jesus never told the Church to win elections.

He told us to make disciples.

Those are very different assignments.

Imagine if Christians spent as much time sharing the Gospel as they do arguing on social media.

Imagine if churches became more passionate about reaching their communities than defending political talking points.

Imagine if our neighbors knew us more for our compassion than for our outrage.

That is the Church Jesus envisioned.

Loving People We Disagree With

Perhaps one of the greatest casualties of political division has been love.

We’ve become suspicious of one another.

Quick to judge.

Slow to listen.

Ready to label fellow believers as enemies because they vote differently.

Yet Jesus gave us a different command:

“By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”

Notice what He did not say.

He did not say people would recognize His followers by their political affiliation.

He said they would recognize us by our love.

Love has become increasingly rare in a culture built on outrage.

The Church should be the place where it flourishes.

The Cross Is Bigger Than Any Party

The Cross does not belong to the political left.

It does not belong to the political right.

It belongs to Jesus Christ.

No political platform perfectly reflects the Kingdom of God.

Every ideology falls short because every human institution is flawed.

Christians should be willing to applaud what is good, confront what is evil, and refuse to surrender their allegiance to any earthly movement.

Our citizenship is ultimately in Heaven.

That truth should shape every political opinion we hold.

A Call to Repentance

This is not a call for Christians to withdraw from society.

It is a call to remember who we are.

Followers of Jesus first.

Citizens second.

If politics has made us angrier than the world, less compassionate than Jesus, or more loyal to a party than to Scripture, then perhaps it is time to repent.

The world does not need another political movement wrapped in religious language.

It needs followers of Jesus who look like Jesus.

May we once again become known for our humility instead of our pride.

For grace instead of outrage.

For truth spoken in love instead of slogans shouted in anger.

And may the Church reclaim the mission Christ gave us—to love God, love our neighbors, and proclaim the Good News of Jesus Christ until He returns. ~OC

Good Trouble for the Church

Today’s a new day!

The late Congressman and civil rights leader John Lewis left us with a simple but powerful challenge: “Get into good trouble, necessary trouble.”Get His words were never an invitation to create chaos. They were a call to courage—to stand for what is right when remaining silent would be easier.

As I look at the state of the American Church today, I can’t help but wonder if we need a little more good trouble.

I love the Church. I believe Jesus established the Church to be the hope of the world, a place where broken people discover healing, where sinners find grace, where the lonely find family, and where the Gospel transforms lives. My concern doesn’t come from a lack of love—it comes because I love the Church too much to stay silent when I see it drifting from its mission.

Too often, it seems many churches and Christian leaders have become more passionate about politics than about the Gospel. We know how to defend a political party, but do we defend the forgotten? We know how to argue over elections, but do we weep over the lost? We rally around candidates, but are we rallying around the Cross?

The Gospel was never meant to be wrapped in a political or American flag.

Jesus didn’t tell His followers to seek political power. He told them to deny themselves, take up their cross, and follow Him. He welcomed the outsider, touched the untouchable, defended the marginalized, and proclaimed good news to the poor. His ministry consistently crossed cultural, social, and political boundaries because His Kingdom was never confined by them.

The Church should be known first for its love—not its voting record.

Perhaps it’s time for some “Good Trouble.”

The kind of good trouble that speaks up when refugees are treated without dignity.

The kind of good trouble that refuses to ignore the hungry, the homeless, the disabled, the widow, the orphan, and the immigrant because Scripture refuses to ignore them.

The kind of good trouble that challenges churches to be known more for compassion than for culture wars.

The kind of good trouble that reminds us our neighbors are not our enemies.

The kind of good trouble that chooses the teachings of Jesus over political talking points.

This isn’t about choosing the political left or the political right. It’s about choosing the narrow road that Jesus called us to walk. The Kingdom of God has never fit neatly inside any political platform.

The early Church changed the world without controlling governments. They changed it because they loved radically, served sacrificially, shared generously, and proclaimed Christ boldly. They cared for plague victims, rescued abandoned children, fed the hungry, and welcomed those society rejected. Their witness wasn’t built on political influence—it was built on Christlike love.

Imagine if today’s Church became known once again for that kind of faith.

Imagine communities where every person—regardless of race, nationality, economic status, disability, or political affiliation—knew they would be welcomed because they bear the image of God.

Imagine churches where serving the poor mattered as much as winning debates.

Imagine Christians who were recognized not by the politicians they defended, but by the Savior they followed.

That’s the kind of good trouble our generation desperately needs.

The Gospel is still good news.

The Cross is still enough.

The Church still has the opportunity to be the light of the world—but only if we remember whose Kingdom we belong to.

May we have the courage to lovingly challenge what needs challenging, to speak truth with grace, and to follow Jesus wherever He leads—even when it costs us comfort, popularity, or influence.

If that causes a little good trouble, perhaps that’s exactly where the Church needs to be. ~OC

How Many Anne Franks Are Hiding Across America?

Today’s a new day!

“In the end, we’ll all become stories.” Those words, often associated with the power of memory, remind us that every life leaves behind a testimony.

Anne Frank’s diary has endured because it captured history through the eyes of a child. She didn’t write knowing the world would one day read her words. She wrote because she was afraid. She wrote because she hoped. She wrote because putting pen to paper was one of the few freedoms she had left.

Her diary asks every generation a difficult question:

What are the children of our day experiencing?

As I look across America in 2026, I can’t help but wonder…

How many children are quietly keeping journals they never intended anyone else to read?

How many are writing about watching a parent disappear after an immigration raid?

How many are describing the fear of hearing a knock at the door?

How many are documenting life spent wondering whether tomorrow will bring another goodbye?

How many families are being torn apart simply because they were born in another country?

These questions are not about comparing one tragedy to another. Every chapter of history has its own unique pain. Instead, they ask us whether we are paying attention to the people living through history right now.

One day, today’s children will grow up.

Some of them may publish memoirs.

Some may never share their stories.

Others may leave behind journals tucked away in closets, attics, or family boxes, discovered years after they’re gone.

What will those pages say about us?

Will they describe neighbors who chose compassion over fear?

Will they remember churches that opened their doors instead of closing their hearts?

Will they write about strangers who offered food, shelter, friendship, and dignity?

Or will they wonder why so many people looked away?

History has an unsettling habit of asking questions that cannot be answered once the moment has passed.

Future generations won’t simply read government policies or political speeches. They’ll read the stories of ordinary people. They’ll hear the voices of children who lived through these days. They’ll ask what the adults around them did when families were hurting.

As followers of Jesus, our calling has never depended on a person’s nationality, language, immigration status, or background.

Jesus consistently moved toward those on the margins.

He welcomed the stranger.

He cared for the vulnerable.

He challenged His followers to love their neighbors—not just the ones who looked like them or believed the same things.

Loving our neighbor doesn’t require us to agree on every political solution. Nations have laws, and citizens can honestly disagree about how those laws should be shaped and enforced.

But compassion should never become a casualty of politics.

A child is still a child.

A frightened family is still a frightened family.

A person created in the image of God is still a person created in the image of God.

Perhaps the question isn’t how many Anne Franks are hiding across America.

Perhaps the better question is this:

Will today’s children remember that someone saw them?

Will they remember someone who chose kindness over indifference?

Will they remember someone who reflected the love of Christ when they needed it most?

Because one day, the diaries of 2026 may be opened.

And when they are, may they tell stories not only of fear, but also of courage.

Not only of uncertainty, but also of hope.

Not only of suffering, but of people who refused to let compassion disappear.

History is being written today.

So is our legacy. ~OC

Either Way I Win

In 2019, after almost eighteen years of major health battles and being told on multiple occasions that I only had hours left to live, I experienced a beautiful miracle from God.

At that point in 2019, doctors believed I only had weeks remaining. The situation looked impossible. The circumstances seemed hopeless. Yet Jesus stepped into the middle of the story and reminded me that He always has the final say.

It was a true miracle.

Since that miracle, however, my journey has not been without additional challenges. I have endured multiple serious battles with COVID and also suffered a stroke. Today, my health journey has entered its twenty-fourth year.

Over those years, countless people have prayed for my complete healing. I am deeply grateful for every prayer, every encouraging message, every act of kindness, and every person who has stood beside me during difficult seasons. Those prayers have meant more than I could ever adequately express.

But as I have prayed about my health and spent time talking with Jesus, I have found myself reflecting on this journey from a different perspective.

I think about the many patients I have met over the years.

I think about the hospital rooms.

I think about the waiting rooms.

I think about the difficult conversations.

I think about the opportunities God has given me to pray with people, encourage people, and remind people that they are not alone.

Some Christians have viewed my health journey as something negative. They have looked at the diagnoses, the treatments, the setbacks, and the ongoing battles and wondered why God has not completely removed them.

But I have never viewed my journey that way.

I have always seen it as an opportunity.

An opportunity to share the love of Jesus.

An opportunity to share the hope of Jesus.

An opportunity to remind hurting people that God is still faithful even when life is difficult.

As I think about this, I am reminded of others whom God has used powerfully despite significant challenges.

I think about the Apostle Paul, who prayed for the “removal of his thorn in the flesh”, yet God told him, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.” Paul went on to impact the world with the Gospel despite his ongoing struggles. 

I think about Joni Eareckson Tada, whose life and testimony have inspired millions around the world.

I think about Nick Vujicic, who was born without arms and legs yet continues to share the Gospel with millions across the globe.

I think about Billy Graham, who faithfully preached Christ throughout seasons of physical weakness and aging.

I think about Eric LeGrand, whose courage and faith have encouraged countless people through adversity.

None of these individuals allowed their struggles to define them. Instead, they allowed God to use them right where they were. 

Their stories remind us that God’s power is not limited by our circumstances.

Throughout my own health journey, God has repeatedly shown me that my willingness to continue sharing the love and hope of Jesus during difficult seasons has encouraged others who are walking through storms of their own.

Sometimes we assume that our greatest ministry will happen after God removes our struggle.

But what if God wants to use us in the middle of the struggle?

What if the very battle we are asking Him to remove is the place where He is doing some of His greatest work?

What if our pain becomes a platform for His glory?

What if our scars become evidence of His faithfulness?

I still believe Jesus heals.

I still believe miracles happen.

After all, I am living proof that they do.

And maybe Jesus will choose to perform another miracle in my life on this side of Heaven.

Maybe He will completely restore every area of my health.

I certainly welcome the prayers everyone continues to pray for my healing.

But perhaps God is using this season exactly as it is.

Perhaps there are people I can reach because of this journey that I could never reach otherwise.

Perhaps there are conversations that happen because of these challenges that would never happen without them.

Perhaps Jesus has me planted exactly where He wants me.

So if God leads you, please continue praying for my healing.

But also pray that Jesus continues to use me.

Pray that I remain faithful.

Pray that I continue to encourage others.

Pray that I continue sharing His love and hope wherever He opens a door.

Because whether I receive another miracle here on earth or whether God continues to use me in the middle of this battle, my victory is already secure in Christ.

If He heals me completely here on earth, I win.

If He uses my story to bring hope to others, I win.

If He uses my struggles to point people toward Jesus, I win.

And one day, whether through healing here or perfect healing in Heaven, I will stand in the presence of my Savior completely restored.

Either way, I win.

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

And that is a victory no illness can ever take away. ~OC

When We Care More About Position Than Protection

Today’s a new day!

I know many people may disagree with what I am about to say, and that’s okay. Healthy disagreement is part of life and part of the Church. But I stand firmly by these words.

I care far more about the victims of abuse in our churches than I do about whether a woman teaches a Bible study, preaches a sermon, or stands behind a pulpit in a Southern Baptist Church—or any other church.

For years, countless hours, meetings, conferences, articles, and social media debates have focused on the role of women in ministry. Entire denominations have wrestled with the question. Churches have split over it. Christians have passionately argued both sides.

Yet while some believers are consumed with debates about who is allowed to speak from the platform, children, teenagers, and vulnerable adults have suffered abuse in churches that were supposed to be safe places.

That should break our hearts.

When Jesus walked this earth, He consistently placed people above power, compassion above control, and protection of the vulnerable above religious posturing. He reserved some of His strongest words for religious leaders who burdened others while neglecting justice, mercy, and faithfulness.

I cannot help but wonder what Jesus thinks when churches spend more energy debating who can preach or teach than they spend ensuring children are protected.

I cannot help but wonder what He thinks when victims are ignored, silenced, questioned, or blamed while church leaders focus on preserving reputations and institutions.

The Church should be the safest place on earth for a child.

The safest place for a survivor.

The safest place for the wounded.

The safest place for those seeking healing.

And yet, too often, it has not been.

This is not a statement against theology. 

Theology matters. Scripture matters. Church governance matters. But if our theological discussions become more important than protecting people made in the image of God, something has gone terribly wrong.

If Christians are more concerned about a woman’s role in ministry than they are about children being abused, they have missed something essential in the teachings of Jesus.

If we can passionately argue about positions while remaining silent about victims, we need to examine our priorities.

If we are quicker to defend institutions than to defend the brokenhearted, we need to return to the heart of Christ.

Jesus welcomed children.

Jesus protected the vulnerable.

Jesus stood with the hurting.

Jesus confronted religious leaders who had lost sight of what mattered most.

The Church should do the same.

The world is watching how we respond. More importantly, survivors are watching.

They don’t need another debate.

They need safety.

They need accountability.

They need justice.

They need compassion.

They need to know that the Church values their well-being more than its reputation.

My prayer is that Christians of every denomination would become known not merely for what we believe, but for how fiercely we protect the vulnerable, how seriously we take abuse allegations, how compassionately we care for survivors, and how faithfully we reflect the heart of Jesus.

Because at the end of the day, protecting the vulnerable is not a political issue.

It is not a denominational issue.

It is not a conservative issue or a progressive issue.

It is a Jesus issue. ~OC

The Story Behind The Music 

Today’s a new day!

People often ask me how I started writing music, and the honest answer might surprise them—I don’t come from some deep well of musical training or natural talent. I’ve never claimed to be a musician in the traditional sense. But what I have always had is an ear for music and a mind full of thoughts that never seem to sit still. For years, those thoughts found their way into blog posts, journal entries, and scattered writings. I didn’t realize at the time that God was planting seeds—words that would one day find a different kind of rhythm and voice.

As time has gone on, I’ve heard people assume that what I write must just be random phrases plugged into some app, especially with how much AI is shaping the world around us. But I want to be clear—every word I share comes from a real place. It comes from my heart, from my experiences, and from what strength I still have to express what’s inside me. These songs aren’t manufactured; they’re lived. They are pieces of my journey, shaped by faith, struggle, and the quiet moments where God meets me right where I am. Yes, the vocals and music are AI generated, but each word, each vocal and style of music comes from God inspired inspiration. And a lot of late nights.

The turning point came during a time of prayer. I felt God speaking to my spirit, nudging me to take those old writings and begin turning them into songs. My first response was hesitation—I told Him plainly, “I don’t know how to write music.” But in that stillness, I felt His answer just as clearly: I do. It wasn’t about technique or training; it was about obedience. So I started, unsure but willing, trusting that if He called me to it, He would carry me through it.

Not long after, I prayed a simple but bold prayer—that God would give me something new to write every single day. And in His faithfulness, He has answered that prayer again and again. Each morning brings a new thought, a new message, a new opportunity to share something He’s placed on my heart. That’s why so many of you receive those daily texts or posts—it’s not routine, it’s provision. This journey isn’t about becoming a great songwriter; it’s about being a willing vessel. And as long as He keeps giving me the words, I’ll keep writing them. ~OC

Not A Performance

“The Lord is near to all who call on Him, to all who call on Him in truth.” — Psalm 145:18 

Today’s a new day! Prayer isn’t a performance. It’s not a speech, a sermon, or a spiritual audition. It’s a conversation — raw, real, and sometimes downright messy. You don’t need a robe, a pulpit, or the perfect words. You just need a moment and faith like a mustard seed. 

God doesn’t wait for you to sound holy. He waits for you to be honest. Whether you’re whispering in a hospital room, shouting in frustration, or mumbling through a mouthful of emotions, He hears you. He’s not grading your grammar — He’s listening to your heart. 

Daniel prayed in danger. Jonah prayed in darkness. Peter prayed while sinking. And you? You can pray in your car, your kitchen, your wheelchair, your recliner or your weakest moment. You can pray with a full plate or an empty stomach. You can pray with tears, laughter, or silence. 

There’s no wrong time to pray. No wrong place. No wrong posture. You can pray standing, sitting, lying down, or leaning on the edge of hope. You can pray in church, at the breakfast table, or as you’re being wheeled into the operating room. 

So stop worrying about sounding like Shakespeare or James Earl Jones. Stop waiting for the perfect moment to pray. Just talk to God. Tell Him about your hopes, frustrations, dreams and hurts. Tell Him what’s funny. Tell Him what you need. And if all you’ve got is “Thank You, Lord,” that’s more than enough. 

Because the power of prayer isn’t in how you say it — it’s in Who you’re saying it to. Can I get an amen? ~OC

Flashing Neon Sign

Today’s a new day! As with many neurological illnesses there is nothing noticeable about my condition. It’s not like a broken leg or arm where there is a cast which is obvious when seeing the person. But I cannot tell you how many times I have heard the same old words since my diagnosis last fall, Todd, you do not look like you have dementia.

I often wonder if it comes down to the fact that people feel uncomfortable talking to me about it, so they say the first thing that comes to mind. Which at times can come across as very insensitive and judgmental. Since my diagnosis of early onset dementia caused by my Parkinson’s, I have had several people tell me I do not look or act like someone with dementia. Or Todd, maybe you’re just dealing with an infection of some kind and just need to take some antibiotics. I would be overjoyed if that was actually the case. But I have some amazing doctors and they didn’t come up with this diagnosis lightly.

What does dementia look like? There is no cast or bandage to put on it. I guess I could wear a flashing neon sign that says, “HELLO, I HAVE EARLY ONSET DEMENTIA!” that lets people know of my latest diagnosis.

But seriously, I am walking through a very new and strange season of life, but I know I am not the only one. It simply gets frustrating when people decide to find a different diagnosis or make you doubt your current state of health because they do not like the diagnosis. It can be irritating and cruel when people doubt you and your medical team. Believe me, no one wants to sit in a doctor’s office and hear the words “You have early onset dementia.”

I do think that part of this attitude is because people have a hard time believing someone in their 50’s could have an “old person’s” disease. Also the topic of dementia is not an easy or fun subject to talk about. It can be easier to just ignore it or try to explain it away.

I also believe people have their own preconceived beliefs about dementia and I and many others suffering from this horrible disease do not fit in their picture of dementia.

So please do me a favor. Stop putting your personal beliefs or opinions on those suffering from a visually invisible disease or one that you don’t like. Life with dementia is already hard enough. Thanks for listening. ~OC

The Race Called Life

Today’s a new day! During my running days, I was blessed to complete 350 marathons. Yes, you read that correctly. I can take no credit. It was all God pushing me through those marathons. People often ask me why I ran 350 marathons? I tell them I did not like the number 349.

It’s been a number of years since I was able to run based on my health issues. While I would have never considered myself a professional by any means, I like to think I learned a few things during my running days. Like how to stabilize my breathing (well, I did my best) and how to run at a steady pace. Once again I tried my best. Running is a lot like living the Christian life. We have many lessons to learn. I learned a lot of lessons during my running days that I have been able to apply to my Christian journey.

One of the first lessons you learn when you start running is that you need to have endurance. Whether you’re running a 5K or a 50 miler (yes, I did that), you need to train so that you can run at a steady pace and not get worn out quickly.

The Christian life requires endurance as well. Life can seem long and hard as Christians, especially in the midst of challenges. Many people have made the comparison that life is a marathon, not a sprint, and the same goes for the Christian life. As the writer of Hebrews says, “For you have need of endurance, so that when you have done the will of God you may receive what is promised” (Hebrews 10:36).

When you’re running, especially long distances, you want to lay aside everything that could weigh you down so that you only have the essentials. Lightweight shoes and light breathable clothing. As a runner you need to find the perfect balance between bringing what is necessary and those things that would just weigh you down.

In the Christian life, we are called to lay aside what weighs us down—namely, sin and any idols in our lives. Hanging on to those idols can cause our faith to falter and stumble. Letting go of idols in our lives frees us to live a life that is dedicated to Jesus. As the writer of Hebrews says:

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.” (Hebrews 12:1–2)

As a runner, you come across trials and challenges. Whether that’s a heatwave, snowstorm, rainstorm, or injury, runners face challenges that impact their race. You can never predict these trials and instead you just have to take them as they come. But you cannot allow the obstacles in life to keep you from living the race God has designed just for you.

In the same way, as Christians we can face unexpected challenges and suffering. From a poor diagnosis, a lost relationship, a lost job or a broken family. This race called life can be difficult. But thankfully, we are being made perfect through the grace of God. As James writes in James 1:2-4, “Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing”

My prayer is that we will all run this race called life with endurance and receive the beautiful gift of eternal life. ~OC

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