Twenty-Five Years Later…We Remember

Today marks 25 years since September 11, 2001.

Twenty-five years.

And yet for those who lived through that day, it can still feel like yesterday.

We remember where we were.

We remember watching the first plane hit.

Then the second.

We remember the towers falling.

We remember the Pentagon.

We remember Flight 93.

We remember the confusion.

The fear.

The unanswered questions.

The phone calls.

The tears.

And the overwhelming realization that America had changed forever.

Before 9/11, we worried about ordinary things.

After 9/11, we looked at the sky differently.

We looked at airports differently.

We looked at strangers differently.

We hugged our families a little tighter.

We prayed a little harder.

And for a brief moment, something happened in America that we desperately need to remember.

We came together.

Political parties didn’t matter as much.

Arguments didn’t matter as much.

Our differences didn’t matter as much.

We were Americans.

We stood together.

We mourned together.

We prayed together.

We served together.

And we discovered an incredible truth:

When evil tries to divide us, love can still bring us together.

But 9/11 also taught us something else.

Freedom isn’t free.

Peace isn’t guaranteed.

Evil is real.

Life is fragile.

And tomorrow is never promised.

We learned that heroes don’t always wear uniforms.

Some ran toward the burning buildings while everyone else was running away.

Firefighters.

Police officers.

Paramedics.

First Responders.

Military personnel.

Flight attendants.

Ordinary citizens who made extraordinary choices.

Some gave their lives trying to save complete strangers.

That is courage.

Twenty-five years later, we should ask ourselves:

What have we learned?

Have we learned to love our neighbors?

Have we learned to appreciate the people sitting beside us?

Have we learned that hatred only creates more hatred?

Have we learned that our disagreements don’t have to make us enemies?

Have we learned that our time with the people we love is precious?

Have we learned that America is stronger when we stand together rather than tear one another apart?

Because here’s the uncomfortable truth:

We cannot change what happened on September 11, 2001.

But we can decide what September 11, 2001 will continue to teach us.

We can remember the innocent lives stolen.

We can honor the heroes who ran toward danger.

We can pray for the families who still carry empty chairs at their tables.

We can remember the survivors.

We can remember those who spent years battling the physical and emotional consequences of that day.

And we can refuse to allow hatred, division, bitterness and political tribalism to destroy the unity we discovered in the ashes.

Twenty-five years later, don’t just remember the buildings that fell.

Remember the people.

Remember the sacrifice.

Remember the courage.

Remember the unity.

Remember the prayers.

Remember the heroes.

Remember how quickly life can change.

And most importantly…

REMEMBER THAT WE ARE STILL RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT WE DO WITH THE LIFE WE HAVE BEEN GIVEN.

Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed.

The next breath isn’t guaranteed.

The next conversation isn’t guaranteed.

So call somebody.

Forgive somebody.

Hug your family.

Tell someone you love them.

Help somebody who is hurting.

Stand up for somebody who cannot stand for themselves.

And when the world tries to convince us that we have to hate one another because we disagree…

REFUSE.

We can remember September 11 without living in fear.

We can remember September 11 without surrendering to hatred.

We can remember September 11 by choosing courage over cowardice, love over hate, unity over division, and service over selfishness.

25 years later, we remember.

25 years later, we mourn.

25 years later, we honor.

25 years later, we still stand.

And may we never forget.

SEPTEMBER 11, 2001 — NEVER FORGET. 

God bless the families who lost loved ones.
God bless those who served.
God bless those who continue to carry the scars.
And God bless America. ~OC

The Day Before

SEPTEMBER 10, 2001.

Twenty-five years ago today, America went to bed believing tomorrow would look pretty much like today.

People went to work.

Parents kissed their children goodbye.

Kids went to school.

Planes crossed the skies.

People walked through airports without knowing that the world they knew was about to change forever.

Businesses opened.

Restaurants served dinner.

Families laughed around kitchen tables.

Friends talked about ordinary things.

Sports were played.

Life happened.

And nobody knew.

Nobody woke up that morning thinking, “This is the last normal day America will ever have.”

Nobody went to sleep thinking, “Tomorrow, thousands of families will receive the worst phone call of their lives.”

Nobody knew that the next morning would bring images that would forever be burned into our memories.

Nobody knew that the words September 11th would become more than a date on a calendar.

It would become a scar.

A memorial.

A reminder.

A day we would never forget.

That is what makes September 10th so haunting.

It was ordinary.

And sometimes we don’t realize how precious ordinary is until ordinary is gone.

So today, September 10, 2026, let’s remember something:

Don’t take today for granted.

Call the person you’ve been meaning to call.

Hug your spouse.

Tell your children you love them.

Forgive somebody.

Put down the phone and look someone in the eyes.

Thank God for another morning.

Because none of us are promised tomorrow.

Tomorrow, we will remember September 11th.

But today, let’s remember September 10th.

The last ordinary day.

The day America didn’t know.

The day thousands of people went about their lives completely unaware that history was waiting just beyond midnight.

Cherish today.

Love deeply.

Forgive quickly.

Live purposefully.

And never forget how quickly an ordinary day can become a moment that changes everything.

🇺🇸 God bless America.

🇺🇸 Never forget.

9/10/2001 — The day before. ~OC

When The Argument Runs Out…

Today’s a new day!

Watch what happens when a political party has nothing left to stand on.

The conversation changes.

Facts become insults.
Debate becomes name-calling.
Ideas are replaced with attacks.
Leadership becomes fear.
And when persuasion isn’t enough, suddenly there are promises, favors, and bribes designed to buy your loyalty instead of earning your trust.

That’s not leadership.

And here’s the uncomfortable truth:

If your position is strong, you don’t need to destroy the person who disagrees with you.

You should be able to defend your ideas without calling someone stupid.

You should be able to debate without demonizing.

You should be able to disagree without treating your neighbor like an enemy.

And you should never have to buy someone’s vote to convince them your ideas are worth believing in.

I don’t care what letter is beside your name—D, R, or anything else.

Hold them ALL accountable.

Don’t worship a party.
Don’t surrender your conscience to a politician.
Don’t let fear manipulate you.
Don’t let anger become your identity.

Think. Question. Research. Listen. Then decide.

Because America doesn’t need more political tribalism.

We need people willing to stand on truth, integrity, character, and principle—even when doing so costs them something.

And as a Christian, my ultimate allegiance isn’t to a political party, politician, ideology, or government.

My allegiance belongs to Jesus Christ.

So I’m going to love my neighbor—even when we disagree.

I’m going to speak truth—even when it’s uncomfortable.

And I’m going to refuse to be manipulated by insults, fear, division, or political bribery.

Don’t let a political party tell you who to hate.
Don’t let a politician buy your loyalty.
And don’t surrender your God-given ability to think for yourself.

Stand on truth.
Stand on principle.
Stand on Christ.

Everything else is temporary. ~OC

The Valley’s

The valley doesn’t get to name you.
The valley doesn’t get to break you.
The valley doesn’t get to bury you.

YOU ARE COMING THROUGH!

Because the Shepherd is with you in the darkness, beside you in the battle, and ahead of you in the victory.

SO GET UP!
LIFT YOUR HEAD!
TAKE THE NEXT STEP!

THE DEVIL DIDN’T WRITE YOUR STORY.
YOUR CIRCUMSTANCES DON’T WRITE YOUR STORY.
THE VALLEY DOESN’T WRITE YOUR STORY.

JESUS DOES!

And if the Shepherd says KEEP WALKING—THEN KEEP WALKING!

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. ~ Psalm 23:4

Did you hear that?

THOUGH I WALK THROUGH.

Not stay in.

Not die in.

WALK THROUGH!

YOU’RE NOT GOING TO DIE IN THE VALLEY.
YOU’RE GOING TO WALK THROUGH IT!

Because the God who brought you this far will not abandon you now.

THE SHEPHERD IS STILL WITH YOU.
AND THAT CHANGES EVERYTHING.

So lift your head.
Strengthen your faith.
Take the next step.

THE VALLEY IS NOT THE END OF YOUR STORY.
THE SHEPHERD IS LEADING YOU THROUGH!

NOW… KEEP WALKING! ~OC

After the Amen

What happens after I say Amen?

Because the truth is, sometimes the pain is still there.

The diagnosis doesn’t disappear.
The bill is still sitting on the table.
The relationship is still broken.
The grief is still heavy.
The questions are still unanswered.
And sometimes, I still wake up tired of fighting.

Amen doesn’t mean everything suddenly gets easy.

Sometimes faith looks like saying,
“Jesus, I still don’t understand… but I’m still here.”

Sometimes hope looks like getting out of bed when your heart doesn’t want to.

Sometimes courage looks like taking one more step when you have no idea how many steps are left.

And sometimes the greatest miracle isn’t that God immediately changes the circumstance…

It’s that He changes something inside of you while you’re walking through it.

I’ve learned that real faith isn’t pretending everything is okay.

Real faith says:

“This hurts.”
“I’m scared.”
“I’m tired.”
“I don’t have all the answers.”
“But Jesus, I’m not letting go of You.”

That’s honesty.

That’s faith without the religious mask.

That’s hope that has been tested in the fire and still refuses to die.

So when I say Amen, I’m not saying the battle is over.

I’m saying:

Jesus, I trust You in the battle.

I’m going to keep walking.
Keep believing.
Keep praying.
Keep loving.
Keep getting back up.

Because my circumstances may tell me “it’s over,” but Jesus still gets the final word.

And if all I can do today is take one more step…

Then one more step is enough.

Tomorrow can take care of tomorrow.

Today, I’m choosing Jesus.

After I say Amen, I’m going to live like I believe the God I just prayed to is still walking with me.

Because He is.

Amen

~OC

Be The Calm

Today’s a new day!

There is enough chaos in this world without us adding to it.

Enough anger.
Enough outrage.
Enough arguing.
Enough division.
Enough people reacting before they ever stop to think.

And sometimes, the most powerful thing you can do isn’t to speak louder.

It’s to stay calm.

When everyone else is losing their minds, be the person who brings peace.

When everyone else is reacting, be the person who pauses.

When everyone else is throwing gasoline on the fire, be the person who refuses to pick up the match.

When everyone else is looking for someone to blame, be the person willing to extend grace.

Because as followers of Jesus, we were never called to mirror the chaos around us.

We were called to carry something different.

Jesus didn’t promise us a life without storms.

He promised us His presence in the middle of them.

Think about Jesus asleep in the boat while the disciples were terrified by the storm. The waves were crashing. Fear had taken over. Everyone was panicking.

And Jesus got up and spoke to the storm:

“Peace! Be still!”

Maybe sometimes the miracle God wants to work through us isn’t calming the storm around us.

Maybe it’s teaching us how to remain calm while we’re standing in it.

You don’t have to answer every accusation.

You don’t have to win every argument.

You don’t have to respond to every criticism.

You don’t have to match someone else’s anger.

You don’t have to become bitter because someone else is bitter.

And you certainly don’t have to join the storm just because everyone else is standing in the rain.

Be different.

Be the calm.

Be the peace.

Be the person who walks into a chaotic room and changes the atmosphere—not because you have all the answers, but because you know the One who does.

The world doesn’t need more people adding to the noise.

It needs people who carry peace.

People who know when to speak and when to remain silent.

People who choose grace when anger would be easier.

People who choose forgiveness when bitterness feels justified.

People who refuse to let the storm outside determine the condition of their heart inside.

So today, before you react, pause.

Before you respond, pray.

Before you speak, ask yourself whether your words will bring healing or simply add to the storm.

You may not be able to control the storm.

But with God’s help, you can control whether you become part of it.

Don’t join the storm.

Be the calm in the middle of it.

And maybe, just maybe, someone who is drowning in the storm will find their way to Jesus because they saw His peace living inside of you. ~OC

The Mountain

Is God is calling you to climb a mountain?

You’ve been staring at this mountain long enough.

The diagnosis.
The disappointment.
The betrayal.
The loss.
The fear.
The rejection.
The impossible situation.

And somewhere along the way, you started believing that because the mountain is BIG, your God must be small.

NO.

Caleb stood at 85 years old and looked at a mountain filled with giants and said:

“GIVE ME THIS MOUNTAIN.”

Not give me an easier assignment.
Not give me a different battle.
Not wait until the circumstances improve.

Give me this mountain.

That’s the kind of faith I want.

Faith that doesn’t collapse when circumstances change.

Faith that doesn’t disappear when the answer doesn’t come quickly.

Faith that doesn’t need everything to make sense before it takes another step.

I will walk in the confidence of God- regardless of the mountain standing in front of me.

Because my confidence isn’t in my circumstances.

My confidence is in Jesus.

The mountain doesn’t determine whether God is faithful.

The diagnosis doesn’t determine whether God is faithful.

The storm doesn’t determine whether God is faithful.

The enemy doesn’t determine whether God is faithful.

God is always faithful. Period.

So bring me the mountain.

Bring me the thing that scares me.

Bring me the thing that makes me realize I can’t do this in my own strength.

Because when I reach the place where I can’t, I discover the place where He can.

I don’t need to understand the entire journey.

I just need enough faith to take the next step.

One More Step.

When I’m tired—one more step.
When I’m afraid—one more step.
When I’m hurting—one more step.
When I can’t see the way forward—one more step.

Not because I’m strong enough.

Because Jesus is.

And hear me clearly:

I am not backing down.

I am not bowing to fear.
I am not surrendering to circumstances.
I am not allowing yesterday to dictate tomorrow.

God, give me this mountain.

Because I know who walks with me.

His name is Jesus.

The One who walked out of the grave.
The One who conquered death.
The One who holds my future.
The One who has never abandoned me.
The One who is still Lord when everything around me is falling apart.

I don’t need the mountain to be smaller.
I need my faith to become bigger.

So, Jesus…

Give me this mountain.

Give me the courage to climb it.
Give me the faith to face it.
Give me the strength to endure it.
Give me the perseverance to finish it.

And when I reach the top, I won’t take the credit.

I will point everyone to you.

Because I didn’t overcome because I was strong.

I overcame because Jesus was with me every step of the way.

The mountain may be big.
The battle may be real.
The circumstances may be brutal.

But Jesus is still Lord.

And if Jesus is with me—

I will keep on climbing.

Give me the mountain.
Give me Jesus.
and let’s go.

“Now therefore, give me this mountain…” — Joshua 14:12

Do You Have a Healthy Place to Grieve?

Where do you go when your heart is hurting?

Not where do you go to distract yourself.

Not where do you go to pretend you’re okay.

Not where do you go to put on a smile so nobody asks questions.

Where do you go to grieve?

Because sooner or later, every one of us will experience loss.

We will lose people we love. We will lose dreams we once believed would come true. We will lose seasons of our lives. We will lose relationships, opportunities, abilities, homes, jobs, friendships, and sometimes even the person we thought we were going to become.

And sometimes the hardest grief isn’t the loss of a person.

Sometimes it’s grieving the life you thought you would have.

I’ve learned that grief doesn’t always look like tears.

Sometimes grief looks like anger.

Sometimes it looks like silence.

Sometimes it looks like exhaustion.

Sometimes it looks like sitting alone in a room because you don’t have the energy to explain what you’re feeling.

Sometimes grief looks like laughing with your friends while carrying an incredible amount of pain inside.

And sometimes grief comes years after the loss because we were too busy surviving to actually grieve.

So let me ask you something: Do you have a healthy place to grieve?

Because I believe this is something the Church needs to talk about more.

We are often very good at telling people to have faith.

“Pray about it.”

“Trust God.”

“God has a plan.”

“Everything happens for a reason.”

And yes, there is truth in trusting God.

But sometimes we can use spiritual language to avoid emotional honesty.

Sometimes people don’t need us to explain their pain.

Sometimes they simply need someone willing to sit beside them in it.

Jesus Himself wept.

Think about that.

The Son of God stood at the tomb of Lazarus knowing that resurrection was coming, knowing that death would not have the final word, and Jesus still wept.

John 11:35 says:

“Jesus wept.”

He didn’t apologize for His tears.

He didn’t tell Himself He shouldn’t be sad because He knew what God was about to do.

He grieved.

And perhaps that gives us permission to grieve too.

Grief Isn’t a Failure of Faith

I think sometimes Christians are afraid to admit they’re hurting because they believe sadness somehow means they’re not trusting God enough.

But grief and faith can exist in the same heart.

You can trust God and still cry.

You can believe God is good and still be angry about what happened.

You can have hope and still experience heartbreak.

You can know that heaven is real and still miss someone desperately.

You can believe God has a purpose for your life and still mourn the dreams that never came true.

Faith doesn’t eliminate grief. Faith gives us somewhere to take it.

The Psalms are filled with people who cried out to God from the deepest places of their souls.

They didn’t sanitize their emotions.

They didn’t pretend everything was okay.

They brought their brokenness into the presence of God.

Maybe that’s what a healthy place to grieve looks like.

A place where you don’t have to pretend.

A place where you can say:

“God, I’m hurting.”

“God, I don’t understand.”

“God, I’m angry.”

“God, I miss them.”

“God, I’m afraid.”

“God, I don’t know how to move forward.”

And instead of running from God because of those feelings, you run to Him.

But We Also Need People

I believe God can meet us privately in our grief, but I also believe He created us for community.

We weren’t designed to carry everything alone.

Sometimes a healthy place to grieve is a trusted friend who doesn’t try to fix you.

It’s a spouse who lets you cry without telling you to stop.

It’s a pastor who listens instead of immediately preaching.

It’s a counselor who gives you permission to process what you’ve been through.

It’s a small group where you can take off the mask.

It’s someone who can sit in the silence with you and simply say:

“I’m here. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

We need people who understand that grief doesn’t operate on a schedule.

You can’t always tell someone to “move on.”

You can’t put a deadline on someone’s healing.

And you certainly can’t measure someone’s grief by how quickly they appear to be functioning again.

Some wounds take time.

Some losses change us forever.

And sometimes healing doesn’t mean forgetting.

Sometimes healing means learning how to carry the memory without allowing the pain to destroy you.

What Happens When We Don’t Have a Healthy Place to Grieve?

We find unhealthy places.

We bury it.

We numb it.

We isolate ourselves.

We become angry.

We become bitter.

We become addicted to distraction.

We pretend we’re fine.

We pour ourselves into work.

We hide behind ministry.

We hide behind church.

We hide behind our smiles.

We tell everyone, “I’m good,” when we’re anything but good.

And eventually, what we refuse to process begins processing us.

Unwept tears don’t simply disappear.

Unspoken pain doesn’t cease to exist.

Sometimes it comes out as anger.

Sometimes depression.

Sometimes anxiety.

Sometimes bitterness.

Sometimes we begin pushing away the very people who love us because we’re carrying pain we never learned how to express.

That’s why finding a healthy place to grieve matters.

Maybe Your Grief Needs a Name

Perhaps you’ve been calling yourself tired when you’re actually grieving.

Perhaps you’ve been calling yourself angry when you’re actually heartbroken.

Perhaps you’ve been calling yourself distant when you’re actually overwhelmed.

Perhaps you’ve been wondering why you’re struggling so much when the truth is simple:

You’ve experienced a loss, and your soul needs permission to acknowledge it.

So name it.

What are you grieving?

Who are you grieving?

What dream are you grieving?

What season are you grieving?

What version of yourself are you grieving?

What did you lose that you never gave yourself permission to mourn?

Sit with that question for a moment.

Don’t rush past it.

Because sometimes the beginning of healing is simply being honest enough to say:

“This hurt me.”

And Then Bring It to Jesus

Jesus isn’t intimidated by your grief.

Your tears don’t scare Him.

Your questions don’t scare Him.

Your anger doesn’t surprise Him.

Your broken heart doesn’t make Him uncomfortable.

He already knows.

And perhaps the invitation isn’t to figure everything out tonight.

Perhaps the invitation is simply:

Come.

Come with your questions.

Come with your tears.

Come with your anger.

Come with your memories.

Come with your broken dreams.

Come exactly as you are.

Because the same Jesus who stood beside a grieving family still meets people in their grief today.

Psalm 34:18 says:

“The LORD is near to the brokenhearted.”

Not far away.

Near.

That changes everything.

So if you’re grieving today, please hear this:

You don’t have to apologize for your pain.

You don’t have to pretend you’re okay.

You don’t have to rush your healing.

And you don’t have to grieve alone.

Find a healthy place.

Find safe people.

Find a trusted counselor, pastor, friend, spouse, support group, or community where you can be honest.

And most importantly, find your way into the presence of Jesus.

Cry if you need to cry.

Talk if you need to talk.

Sit silently if you can’t find the words.

But don’t bury your grief so deeply that you bury yourself with it.

Grieve.

Feel.

Pray.

Talk.

Heal.

And remember:

You can grieve deeply and still have hope.

You can be brokenhearted and still believe.

You can cry tonight and still wake up tomorrow believing that God is not finished with your story.

Because grief may be part of your story.

But it doesn’t have to be the end of it.

So I’ll ask you one more time:

Do you have a healthy place to grieve?

And if the answer is no…

Maybe today is the day you stop pretending you don’t need one. ~OC

Love Your Neighbor

Today’s a new day!

Maybe the hardest question we can ask ourselves as Christians isn’t, “Do I love Jesus?”

Maybe it’s this:

“Has following Jesus actually made me love my neighbor more?”

That question has been sitting heavy on my heart.

Because I’ve spent a lot of years learning about Jesus.

I’ve read the Bible. I’ve listened to sermons. I’ve sat in Bible studies. I’ve prayed. I’ve worshiped. I’ve written about faith, grace, suffering, forgiveness, hope and the goodness of God.

I’ve talked about discipleship.

I’ve talked about what it means to follow Jesus.

But lately, I’ve found myself asking a much more uncomfortable question:

Am I actually becoming more like Him?

Because there is a difference between knowing Jesus and becoming like Jesus.

And sometimes I wonder if we’ve become really good at the first one while completely missing the second.

We know the verses.

We know the doctrine.

We know what we believe.

We know what we think is right and what we think is wrong.

We know what other people should be doing.

But do we love them?

Really love them?

Not just the people who agree with us.

Not just the people sitting beside us in church.

Not just the people who vote like us, think like us, worship like us or live their lives the way we believe they should.

I’m talking about the difficult people.

The angry people.

The broken people.

The addicted people.

The people who have made terrible mistakes.

The people who don’t believe what we believe.

The people who have hurt us.

The people who have hurt themselves.

The people who don’t look like us.

The people who don’t smell like us.

The people society has decided aren’t worth much.

The people who make us uncomfortable.

Those people.

Jesus called them our neighbors too.

And that’s where this gets painfully personal for me.

Because it’s easy to love people when loving them costs us nothing.

It’s easy to talk about loving our neighbor when our neighbor looks, thinks and lives like we do.

It’s easy to say, “Jesus loves you,” from a safe distance.

But what happens when Jesus asks us to get close?

What happens when loving our neighbor means listening instead of lecturing?

Forgiving instead of keeping score?

Serving instead of being served?

Showing grace instead of passing judgment?

Sitting with someone in their pain instead of trying to explain it away?

What happens when loving our neighbor requires us to put our pride down?

That’s where discipleship gets real.

Because Jesus didn’t simply tell us to love people.

He showed us what love looks like.

He touched people everyone else avoided.

He ate with people religious society had rejected.

He stopped for people everyone else walked past.

He noticed people everyone else ignored.

He loved people who couldn’t give Him anything in return.

And then He stretched His arms across a wooden cross and showed us that real love is sacrificial.

So I’ve been asking myself:

What if discipleship isn’t measured by how much Bible I know, but by how much love I give?

What if spiritual maturity isn’t about how many arguments I can win, but how much grace I can extend?

What if becoming more like Jesus means becoming slower to judge, quicker to forgive, more willing to listen and more willing to love people who don’t deserve it?

Because here’s the truth I’ve had to confront:

I can be right and still be unChristlike.

I can know Scripture and still have a hard heart.

I can defend the truth and still fail to show grace.

I can go to church every Sunday and still walk past my neighbor without ever noticing that they’re hurting.

I can call myself a disciple while becoming increasingly comfortable with people I don’t like being treated as though they don’t matter.

And that realization hurts.

Because I don’t want to simply talk about Jesus.

I want my life to look like Him.

I want people to experience something different when they encounter me.

I want the lonely to feel seen.

I want the hurting to feel safe.

I want the broken to know they aren’t beyond redemption.

I want the person who disagrees with me to know I can disagree without hating them.

I want the person who has fallen to know there is still grace.

I want the person who feels forgotten to know that somebody cares.

I want my neighbor to encounter Jesus—not because I preached a sermon at them, but because I loved them.

Maybe that’s the discipleship journey we’re missing.

Maybe following Jesus isn’t about becoming more religious.

Maybe it’s about becoming more human—the kind of human God created us to be before sin taught us to divide, judge, hate and exclude.

So I’m asking myself today:

Has following Jesus made me love my neighbor more?

Has it changed the way I speak to people?

Has it changed the way I treat people who disagree with me?

Has it changed the way I respond to the broken?

Has it made me more compassionate?

More patient?

More forgiving?

More generous?

More willing to serve?

More willing to listen?

More willing to love without expecting anything in return?

And perhaps most importantly:

Would my neighbor say that following Jesus has made me a more loving person?

That’s the question that scares me.

Because it’s one thing for me to say I’m becoming like Jesus.

It’s another thing for the people around me to actually see it.

Maybe it’s time we stopped measuring our discipleship by how many Christian things we do and started measuring it by how much love is actually coming out of our lives.

Because Jesus didn’t say the world would recognize His disciples by their political opinions.

He didn’t say they would know us by our church attendance.

He didn’t say they would know us by how loudly we defended our beliefs.

He said they would know us by our love.

So before I point another finger…

Before I criticize another person…

Before I decide who is worthy of my compassion…

Before I tell someone else what they need to change…

Maybe I need to get on my knees and ask God:

“Lord, change me first.”

Make my heart softer.

Make my hands willing to serve.

Make my ears willing to listen.

Make my eyes willing to see the people everyone else overlooks.

Make me love the people I don’t understand.

Make me forgive the people who hurt me.

Make me compassionate toward people whose stories I don’t know.

And when I encounter someone who is hurting, broken, angry, lost or far away from You…

Don’t let me walk past them.

Let me stop.

Let me see them.

Let me love them.

Let me become Your hands and feet.

Because maybe the greatest testimony we will ever give isn’t something we say.

Maybe it’s the way we love someone who thought Christians would hate them.

And tonight, I hope we all sit with this question for a while:

If the only Bible my neighbor ever read was the life I lived, would they see Jesus?

Not perfection.

Not religion.

Not condemnation.

Jesus.

Because if my discipleship hasn’t made me love my neighbor more…

Maybe the problem isn’t that my neighbor needs to come closer to Jesus.

Maybe I do. ~OC

Prayer

Dear Lord,

We come before You in the mighty name of Jesus, believing in the power of Your Holy Spirit. Holy Spirit, fall fresh upon us. Move through every place that is broken, wounded, weary, and hurting.

Bring healing where doctors cannot reach. Bring strength where weakness has taken hold. Bring peace where fear has settled. Bring restoration where the enemy has brought destruction.

Lord, release Your healing power. Let faith rise above fear. Let hope rise above despair. Let Your presence fill every room, every hospital bed, every home, and every heart that is crying out to You.

We believe You are still the God who heals, restores, renews, and makes all things new. Nothing is too difficult for You. Nothing is beyond Your reach.

Holy Spirit, have Your way. Bring healing. Bring restoration. Bring life.

We surrender every outcome to You and trust Your perfect will, knowing that Your power is greater than our circumstances.

In the powerful, healing, and victorious name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

~OC

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