Tag: respect

Dear Christians, Please Stop the Hate

Dear Christians,

Please stop the hate.

We live in a world that desperately needs Jesus, but sometimes the loudest voices claiming to represent Him are not reflecting Him at all.

We talk about Jesus, but do we love like Jesus?

We quote Scripture, but do we live it?

We defend our beliefs, but do we remember the words Jesus actually spoke?

The red letters of the Bible call us to love our enemies, pray for those who hurt us, forgive, show mercy, care for the hurting, welcome the stranger, serve the least of these, and love our neighbors as ourselves.

That isn’t weakness.

That is Christianity.

Jesus didn’t tell us to win every argument. He told us to love one another.

He didn’t tell us to build walls around ourselves. He told us to go and make disciples.

He didn’t tell us to hate people who disagree with us. He showed us how to love people who were different from Him.

So, dear Christians, let’s stop using Jesus as a weapon and start following Jesus as our Savior.

Let’s put down the hate.

Let’s put down the outrage.

Let’s put down the judgment.

And let’s pick up love, grace, mercy, compassion, forgiveness and truth.

Don’t just wear the name Christian. Live like Christ.

The world doesn’t need more people shouting about Jesus.

The world needs more people who actually live like Jesus.

“By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” — John 13:35

Love like Jesus.
Serve like Jesus.
Forgive like Jesus.
Live like Jesus.

That’s what the red letters are calling us to do. ~OC

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Twenty Reasons to Get Out of Bed Every Day

Sometimes getting out of bed can be tough.

Can I get an amen?

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

But I’ve also learned something else:

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

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

1. Because you woke up.

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

2. Because God isn’t finished with you.

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

3. Because someone needs you.

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

4. Because there is still someone to love.

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

5. Because there is still someone who needs encouragement.

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

6. Because your testimony matters.

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

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

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

8. Because there are still miracles to witness.

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

9. Because you can still make a difference.

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

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

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

11. Because there are still memories to make.

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

12. Because laughter is still waiting for you.

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

13. Because somebody needs to hear your story.

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

14. Because you are more than your circumstances.

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

15. Because there is still work to do.

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

16. Because hope is still alive.

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

17. Because God can bring beauty from brokenness.

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

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

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

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

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

20. Because Jesus is still with you.

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

You are never walking alone.

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

Put your feet on the floor.

Take a breath.

Say a prayer.

And whisper:

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

Then get up.

Not because every day will be easy.

But because every day is still worth living.

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

And most importantly—

Keep Jesus at the center of it all.

Today is a new day.

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

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Remembering President Jimmy Carter: A Life of Character and Service

Today, October 1, 2026, would have been President Jimmy Carter’s 102nd birthday.

Today, we pause to remember a man who represented something that seems increasingly rare in American public life: character, integrity, humility, humanity, and a genuine commitment to serving others.

James Earl Carter Jr. was born on October 1, 1924, in Plains, Georgia. He would go on to become the 39th President of the United States, serving from 1977 to 1981. But his life was about far more than the four years he spent in the White House.

He believed that public service was supposed to be about people—not power.

He believed leadership carried responsibility.

He believed faith should be lived, not simply spoken.

And he believed that every human being possessed dignity and deserved to be treated with compassion.

Those values shaped his life long before the presidency and continued long after he left Washington.

A President From Plains

There was something remarkable about Jimmy Carter’s connection to Plains, Georgia.

He came from a small community, became governor of Georgia, became President of the United States, and then returned home.

He never seemed to believe that occupying the highest office in the land made him more important than the people around him.

After leaving the White House, President Carter and Rosalynn Carter founded The Carter Center in 1982, dedicating themselves to advancing peace, democracy, human rights, health, and humanitarian work around the world.

His post-presidential life became one of the most extraordinary chapters of his story.

He worked for peace.

He fought disease.

He monitored elections.

He advocated for human rights.

He helped build homes through Habitat for Humanity.

He taught Sunday school.

And he continued serving others when there was absolutely no political office left to win.

That matters.

Character When Nobody Is Watching

Perhaps one of the greatest lessons from Jimmy Carter’s life is that character is who you are when the cameras aren’t rolling.

Presidents come and go.

Political parties change.

Campaign slogans disappear.

Headlines fade.

But character remains.

President Carter demonstrated that leadership does not require constant outrage, personal attacks, or a hunger for attention.

It can look like humility.

It can look like listening.

It can look like keeping your word.

It can look like serving people who can do absolutely nothing for you in return.

It can look like choosing peace when division would be easier.

It can look like standing up for human rights even when doing so is politically difficult.

The Carter Center describes his life’s work in three simple words:

Wage peace. Fight disease. Build hope.

What a legacy.

What Washington Could Learn

And perhaps that is why remembering Jimmy Carter feels especially meaningful today.

Our politics can often seem consumed by division, anger, tribalism, personal ambition, and the endless pursuit of power.

Washington can sometimes feel very far removed from the people who are struggling to pay their bills, raise their families, care for aging parents, find affordable housing, afford healthcare, or simply make it through another difficult day.

That is why character still matters.

Integrity still matters.

Humility still matters.

Compassion still matters.

Leadership still matters.

And public service should still mean service to the public.

Jimmy Carter wasn’t perfect. No president is.

His presidency had successes, challenges, and controversies, just like every administration in American history.

But remembering him today isn’t about pretending history was perfect.

It is about recognizing the qualities he brought to public service and the example he continued to demonstrate for decades afterward.

In 2002, Carter received the Nobel Peace Prize for his decades of work pursuing peaceful solutions to conflicts, advancing democracy and human rights, and promoting economic and social development.

His life ultimately became bigger than a presidency.

A Legacy Bigger Than Politics

President Jimmy Carter died on December 29, 2024, at the age of 100, at his home in Plains, Georgia.

But his story didn’t end there.

His example continues.

His work continues through The Carter Center.

His words continue to challenge us.

His life continues to remind us that leadership doesn’t have to be about self-promotion.

It can be about service.

It can be about sacrifice.

It can be about faith.

It can be about peace.

It can be about human dignity.

And it can be about leaving the world a little better than you found it.

Today, I think about Plains, Georgia.

I think about the little hometown that produced a man who would become the 39th President of the United States.

I think about President Carter and his beloved Rosalynn.

I think about Maranatha Baptist Church.

I think about the Carter Center.

And I think about a simple question for all of us:

What kind of legacy are we leaving behind?

Because someday the political arguments will be forgotten.

The campaign signs will be gone.

The television commercials will be forgotten.

The social-media battles will disappear.

But how we treated people?

That will matter.

How we served?

That will matter.

Whether we showed compassion?

That will matter.

Whether we stood for peace, justice, dignity, and humanity?

That will matter.

Today, we celebrate the life and legacy of President Jimmy Carter—the 39th President of the United States, a son of Plains, Georgia, a husband, a public servant, a humanitarian, a man of faith, and a lifelong advocate for peace and human dignity.

Happy 102nd birthday, Mr. President.

Thank you for reminding America that leadership can still be about character over ego, service over power, humility over fame, and humanity over division.

May we never stop learning from your example. Happy Birthday President Carter. ~OC

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The World Is A Subway Car

THE WORLD IS A SUBWAY CAR

Think about the world for a moment as if it were one giant subway car.

People are packed inside.

Some are sitting quietly, staring out the window. Some are talking loudly. Some are laughing. Some are crying where nobody can see. Some are exhausted from the journey. Some are angry. Some are afraid.

Some know exactly where they’re going.

Others aren’t even sure what station comes next.

And somehow, we’re all riding together.

That’s what makes the subway such a powerful picture of our world.

We don’t get to choose everyone who gets on the train.

We don’t get to choose everyone’s politics, religion, race, nationality, economic situation, personality, or past.

We don’t get to know everyone’s story just by looking at them.

The person sitting across from you might be carrying a broken heart.

The person standing beside you might be fighting a battle nobody knows about.

The person who looks angry might have spent the night crying.

The person who seems completely lost might simply need someone to remind them that they aren’t alone.

And here’s the thing:

We’re all passengers.

None of us owns the subway car.

None of us gets to declare that only people who look like us, think like us, worship like us, or vote like us belong inside.

We’re sharing the ride.

And every person on that train has a story.

DIFFERENT STATIONS

Life takes us through different stations.

Birth.

Childhood.

Friendship.

Love.

Loss.

Success.

Failure.

Illness.

Grief.

Change.

Hope.

And eventually, our earthly journey comes to an end.

Some people ride with us for decades.

Others get off after only a few stops.

Some people enter our lives unexpectedly and change everything.

Others leave behind memories that stay with us long after they’ve disappeared through the doors.

That’s life.

We are constantly meeting people at different stations.

And perhaps the question isn’t simply:

“Where are you going?”

Perhaps the more important question is:

“How are you treating the people riding beside you?”

THE PERSON NEXT TO YOU MATTERS

Jesus never seemed overly concerned with building walls between people.

He crossed boundaries.

He talked with people others avoided.

He touched people others considered untouchable.

He stopped for people others walked past.

He noticed people.

That’s something the world desperately needs right now.

We need to notice people again.

Not labels.

Not stereotypes.

Not political categories.

Not social-media arguments.

People.

The human being sitting beside us.

The mother trying to hold her family together.

The veteran carrying memories from a battlefield.

The immigrant hoping for a safer tomorrow.

The elderly person who hasn’t had a meaningful conversation in days.

The teenager wondering if anyone sees them.

The person battling addiction.

The person grieving a spouse.

The person living with chronic illness.

The person who smiles every day while privately wondering how much longer they can keep going.

You may never know what someone is carrying.

So be kind.

SOMETIMES THE TRAIN GETS DARK

Every subway has tunnels.

There are moments when the windows become black and all you can see is your own reflection.

Life has tunnels too.

Cancer.

Parkinson’s.

Dementia.

Grief.

Divorce.

Financial hardship.

Loneliness.

Addiction.

Fear.

Depression.

Loss.

There are seasons when it feels like the train has entered a tunnel and God has disappeared from view.

But here’s something important about a tunnel:

The darkness doesn’t mean the train has stopped moving.

You may not see the destination.

You may not understand the route.

You may not know why you’re going through this particular tunnel.

But the train can still be moving forward.

Sometimes faith is simply holding on until the lights come back on.

DON’T MISS YOUR STOP

One day, every one of us will reach our final station.

And when that happens, I don’t think we’ll be thinking about how many arguments we won on social media.

I don’t think we’ll care who had the better political meme.

I don’t think we’ll wish we’d spent more time proving ourselves right.

We’ll remember people.

We’ll remember conversations.

We’ll remember moments when somebody showed up.

We’ll remember the hand that reached for ours when we were hurting.

We’ll remember the person who prayed with us.

We’ll remember the person who stayed when everyone else left.

So while you’re riding this train called life, don’t miss the opportunities to love people.

Don’t be so busy staring at your phone that you miss the person sitting beside you.

Don’t be so consumed with being right that you forget to be kind.

Don’t become so comfortable in your own little corner of the subway car that you forget there are hurting people everywhere around you.

WE’RE ALL GOING SOMEWHERE

The world is a subway car.

We’re all passengers.

We’re all carrying something.

We’re all headed toward another station.

And maybe our assignment isn’t to control the entire train.

Maybe it’s simply to make the ride a little better for the people God has placed around us.

Offer encouragement.

Give grace.

Listen.

Forgive.

Help somebody carry their bags.

Make room.

Speak hope.

Stand beside the hurting.

Love your neighbor.

And when someone gets on the train who looks different from you, remember:

They’re a passenger too.

They have a story.

They have a destination.

They have hopes.

They have fears.

They have value.

And they were created by the same God who created you.

So let’s stop treating one another like enemies riding in opposing subway cars.

We’re on the same train.

We’re sharing the same journey.

And every station we pass is another opportunity to love somebody.

The doors are closing.

The train is moving.

We don’t know how many stops we have left.

So let’s make every stop count.

Let’s love while we’re here.

Let’s serve while we’re here.

Let’s forgive while we’re here.

Let’s encourage while we’re here.

Let’s point people toward Jesus while we’re here.

And when our journey is finally finished, may we be able to look back and say:

“I didn’t just ride the train.”

“I helped somebody make it to the next station.”

Keep loving.
Keep serving.
Keep encouraging.
Keep overcoming.

And whatever station you’re at today—remember, you’re not riding alone. ~OC

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Grace For The Imperfect

Today’s a new day!

We live in a world that seems obsessed with perfection.

Perfect families.
Perfect marriages.
Perfect bodies.
Perfect careers.
Perfect churches.
Perfect social media feeds.

But here’s the problem:

None of us are perfect.

Not even close.

We all have scars people can’t see. We all carry stories we don’t always tell. We have made mistakes we wish we could undo. We’ve said things we wish we could take back. We’ve disappointed people we love—and we’ve been disappointed by people we trusted.

Sometimes we are our own harshest critics.

And sometimes, unfortunately, Christians can be the harshest critics of one another.

We forget that the person sitting next to us in church may be fighting a battle we know absolutely nothing about.

The person who seems distant may be hurting.

The person who keeps making mistakes may be struggling to get back on their feet.

The person who doesn’t have their life together may simply need someone to remind them that they are loved.

And the person who doesn’t look, think, believe, or live exactly like we do is still a person created in the image of God.

Maybe it’s time we gave each other a little more grace.

Grace doesn’t mean pretending that wrong is right.

Grace doesn’t mean ignoring sin, refusing accountability, or avoiding difficult conversations.

Grace means remembering that people are more than their worst moment.

It means correcting without condemning.

It means speaking truth without destroying the person who needs to hear it.

It means leaving room for repentance, growth, healing, and second chances.

Jesus didn’t wait for people to become perfect before He loved them.

He met people in their mess.

He sat with sinners.

He touched the untouchable.

He forgave the broken.

He welcomed the rejected.

He restored people who had failed.

And ultimately, He went to the cross for imperfect people like you and me.

That’s grace.

I think sometimes we forget just how much grace we ourselves have received.

We want grace when we’re struggling, but judgment when someone else is struggling.

We want understanding when we make a mistake, but consequences when someone else makes one.

We want people to remember our intentions while we judge someone else by their actions.

We want our past forgiven while holding someone else’s past against them.

But the Gospel calls us to something different.

“Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.” — Ephesians 4:32

What if we became people who were known for grace?

What if our homes became places where people could be honest about their struggles without immediately being judged?

What if our churches became places where broken people felt safe enough to say, “I’m not okay”?

What if instead of asking, “What’s wrong with you?” we sometimes asked, “What happened to you, and how can I walk with you through it?”

What if we stopped expecting everyone to have it all together?

Because here’s the truth:

We’re all works in progress.

God isn’t finished with me.

God isn’t finished with you.

And God certainly isn’t finished with the person you may be tempted to write off.

So give grace.

Give grace to the person who is learning.

Give grace to the person who is grieving.

Give grace to the person who is struggling.

Give grace to the person who failed.

Give grace to the person who is trying again.

Give grace to yourself.

And when accountability is necessary, let it be wrapped in love.

When correction is necessary, let it be offered with humility.

When someone falls, don’t be so quick to celebrate their failure.

Reach down and help them stand.

Because someday, you may be the one who needs someone else’s hand.

None of us are perfect.

We’re just people trying to navigate this crazy, beautiful journey called life while desperately needing the grace of God.

So let’s stop demanding perfection from imperfect people.

Let’s love a little deeper.

Listen a little longer.

Judge a little slower.

Forgive a little quicker.

And extend the same grace to others that we desperately need from God ourselves.

Grace doesn’t say, “You are perfect.”

Grace says,

“You are loved while you’re still becoming.”

And maybe that’s exactly what the world needs a little more of right now.

Grace for the imperfect.

Because we’re all imperfect.

And we’re all in need of grace. ~OC

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” — 2 Corinthians 12:9

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Dear America, I’m Tired

I’M TIRED.

I’m tired of the lies.
I’m tired of the misinformation.
I’m tired of the arrogance.
And I’m tired of being told that everything is better when so many Americans are struggling to see it in their own lives.

As an American, I don’t want to blindly defend a political party or a president. I want to defend truth, accountability, freedom, and the people who call this country home.

The numbers matter.

Inflation is still putting pressure on American families. The latest BLS report shows consumer prices were up 3.4% over the previous year, while real average hourly earnings declined in August.

And we are now months into a war with Iran that has already cost tens of billions of dollars. A September Reuters/Ipsos poll found that only 25% of Americans considered the war worthwhile, while 82% expected the conflict to continue for an extended period.

That isn’t something we should simply accept because someone tells us it’s necessary.

Questioning our government isn’t being anti-American.

Demanding honesty isn’t being disloyal.

Wanting peace isn’t weakness.

And asking whether our leaders are actually making life better for ordinary Americans isn’t political extremism.

It is citizenship.

I don’t expect every American to agree with me. In fact, I believe disagreement is part of what makes our country work.

But I do expect us to demand more from those entrusted with enormous power.

Less arrogance.
Less propaganda.
Less division.
Less blaming.
Less pretending everything is perfect.

And more truth.
More humility.
More accountability.
More listening.
More diplomacy.
More concern for working families, veterans, children, seniors, and people who are simply trying to survive.

I don’t want America to fail.

Quite the opposite.

I want America to heal.

I want America to come together.

I want leaders who understand that serving the American people is a privilege—not a personal kingdom.

So I’m praying.

I’m praying for new beginnings.

I’m praying for real leadership.

I’m praying for wisdom in Washington and peace around the world.

And I’m praying that Americans—regardless of political party—will stop allowing politicians to convince us that we have to hate one another in order to love our country.

We can do better.

America can and must do better.

And I still believe there is hope.

God, give us leaders with wisdom, humility, courage, integrity, and a genuine heart for the people they serve. And give us the courage to demand nothing less. Amen. ~OC

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More Than A Cancer Support Group

Sometimes God brings people into our lives at the exact moment we need them most.

A Christian cancer support group may begin as a room full of strangers—people carrying different diagnoses, different stories, different fears, and different journeys. But somewhere along the way, something beautiful happens.

The group becomes a family.

We begin by sharing our stories, but eventually we begin sharing our lives. We learn each other’s names, celebrate the good news, sit together through the hard news, and remember the things that matter when someone else doesn’t have the strength to remember them.

We pray for one another.

Not just once, but again and again.

When someone is facing surgery, we pray.
When the scan results are coming, we pray.
When treatment becomes exhausting, we pray.
When fear creeps in, we pray.
When someone receives good news, we celebrate and thank God together.
And when someone doesn’t know what to say anymore, sometimes we simply sit beside them and remind them, “You don’t have to walk this road alone.”

Cancer can take a lot from a person, but it doesn’t have to take away hope.

There is something powerful about knowing that someone is lifting your name before God when you’re too tired to pray for yourself. There is strength in receiving a text that simply says, “I’m praying for you today.” There is comfort in knowing that when the road gets difficult, there are people who will walk beside you rather than walk away.

We may have met because of cancer, but cancer isn’t what defines this family.

Faith does.
Love does.
Prayer does.
Hope does.
Jesus does.

We hold each other up when someone is weak. We remind each other of God’s promises when circumstances become overwhelming. We cry together, laugh together, celebrate together, grieve together, and keep showing up for one another.

Because that’s what family does.

We don’t promise that the journey will always be easy. We don’t pretend that every prayer will be answered the way we hoped. But we can promise something just as important:

No one has to face the journey alone.

We will keep praying.
We will keep encouraging.
We will keep believing.
We will keep showing up.

And when one of us doesn’t have enough strength to stand, the rest of us will stand with them.

“Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.”
— Galatians 6:2

What started as a cancer support group has become something much more beautiful.

It has become family.

And family holds each other up.

Closing Prayer:

Dear Jesus, 

Thank You for bringing us together and for turning this group into a family of faith, love, encouragement, and prayer.

Thank You for every person here and for every story represented in this room. You know every diagnosis, every treatment, every fear, every unanswered question, and every prayer that has been whispered through tears.

Lord, give us strength when we are weak, peace when we are afraid, and hope when the road feels long. Surround each person with Your presence and remind us that we are never walking alone.

Help us to continue carrying one another’s burdens. Give us compassionate hearts, listening ears, encouraging words, and hands that are always willing to help. When one of us is discouraged, let the rest of us lift them up. When one of us rejoices, let us rejoice together. When one of us hurts, let us stand close and pray.

We ask for healing, comfort, wisdom for doctors and caregivers, strength for families, and peace that only You can provide.

Above all, help us keep our eyes on You. May our faith grow stronger through every season, and may our lives be a testimony of Your love and faithfulness.

Thank You for this family You have created among us. May we continue to love one another, pray for one another, and hold one another up until the day we see Your promises fulfilled.

In the precious,  powerful and matchless name of Jesus, we pray. Amen. ~OC

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The Most Important Parks of the Bible Don’t Have a Comma

Sometimes the most important parts of the Bible are the simplest.

Love God.
Love your neighbor.

And maybe we have spent far too much time trying to add a comma where Jesus never put one.

Love your neighbor, unless…

Unless they look different than you.

Unless they come from another country.

Unless they speak another language.

Unless they worship differently.

Unless they vote differently.

Unless they don’t believe what you believe.

Unless they have a different political party attached to their name.

Unless they are poor.

Unless they are struggling.

Unless they have made mistakes.

Unless they don’t fit neatly into your definition of who deserves love.

But Jesus didn’t give us a list of exceptions.

When Jesus was asked which commandment was the greatest, He pointed us toward loving God and loving our neighbor. And when someone tried to narrow down exactly who qualified as a neighbor, Jesus responded with the story of the Good Samaritan.

That wasn’t an accident.

The Samaritan was someone the religious people of Jesus’ day would have been tempted to look down upon. Yet Jesus made him the example of what loving a neighbor looks like.

That’s uncomfortable.

Because Jesus wasn’t asking us to love only the people who are easy to love.

He was asking us to love people.

Period.

Our neighbor isn’t defined by race, nationality, political party, socioeconomic status, immigration status, denomination, neighborhood, or whether they agree with us.

Our neighbor is our neighbor.

There is no comma.

There is no footnote.

There is no hidden exception clause.

And maybe that’s one of the greatest challenges facing the Church today.

We have become incredibly good at identifying who is different from us and incredibly comfortable deciding who deserves our compassion.

But Jesus keeps pulling us back to something much simpler:

Love.

Feed the hungry.

Welcome the stranger.

Care for the sick.

Defend the vulnerable.

Visit the lonely.

Help the hurting.

Forgive.

Show mercy.

And love your neighbor.

Not because they earned it.

Not because they agree with you.

Not because they look like you.

Not because they vote like you.

But because they bear the image of God.

So maybe before we ask, “Who is my neighbor?”

We should ask:

“Am I willing to love the neighbor Jesus has placed in front of me?”

Because the command isn’t:

Love your neighbor, unless…

It’s simply:

Love your neighbor.

No comma.

No conditions.

No exceptions.

Just Jesus.

And if we truly want to change the world, maybe we start by loving the person standing right in front of us.

Love God. Love people. Be the hands and feet of Jesus.

That’s the Gospel without the comma. ~OC

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What News Are Your Feet Bringing?

In the New Testament, there is a section of the book of Romans traditionally understood as a letter written by the apostle Paul to followers of Jesus gathered in house churches in first-century Rome.

Paul is talking about the importance of sharing the Gospel—the “good news.” And near the end of this section, he quotes the Old Testament prophet Isaiah:

And how are they to preach unless they are sent? As it is written, “How beautiful are the feet of those who preach the good news!” ~Romans 10:15

Think about that for a moment.

How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news.

What a beautiful picture.

Paul wasn’t talking about beautiful shoes. He wasn’t talking about polished feet or perfect appearances. He was talking about people who carry good news with them wherever they go.

And I wonder:

What kind of news are my feet bringing?

What happens when I walk into a room?

What happens when I sit down beside someone who is hurting?

What happens when I encounter someone who sees the world differently than I do?

What happens when I open my phone and start typing?

Because our feet don’t just take us from one physical location to another.

In a very real sense, we carry something with us.

We carry our words.

We carry our attitudes.

We carry our encouragement—or our discouragement.

We carry compassion—or judgment.

We carry hope—or fear.

And today, we carry all of that into the world through our social-media feeds.

We live in an age where bad news is available 24 hours a day.

Another alarming headline.

Another disturbing video.

Another political argument.

Another tragedy.

Another outrage.

Another reason to be angry.

Another reason to be afraid.

Another reason to divide ourselves into “us” and “them.”

And yes, we should pay attention to what is happening in the world. Ignoring suffering doesn’t make it disappear. We should care about injustice. We should care about our communities. We should care about people who are hurting.

But there is something else we should remember:

We are not powerless.

Take away the trending stories.

Take away the alarming updates.

Take away the endless arguments.

Take away the disturbing realities that fill our screens.

We are still sentient human beings with choices to make.

We still have time.

We still have resources.

We still have energy.

We still have words.

We still have opportunities.

We still have people around us who need someone to remind them that they matter.

And we still get to decide what kind of news our feet bring.

Maybe the good news today is a phone call to someone who feels forgotten.

Maybe it’s buying groceries for a neighbor who is struggling.

Maybe it’s sitting quietly with someone who doesn’t need an answer—they just need someone to stay.

Maybe it’s forgiving someone.

Maybe it’s listening before responding.

Maybe it’s choosing not to share that inflammatory post.

Maybe it’s encouraging someone who is ready to give up.

Maybe it’s welcoming the person everyone else has overlooked.

Maybe it’s being kind to the cashier, the server, the stranger, the immigrant, the lonely neighbor, the person sitting alone at church, or the person who doesn’t believe what you believe.

Maybe the good news isn’t something we post.

Maybe it’s something we become.

Our world doesn’t need more people adding gasoline to every fire.

It needs people willing to carry water.

It needs people willing to walk into difficult places and bring compassion.

It needs people willing to speak truth without losing love.

It needs people willing to disagree without dehumanizing.

It needs people who can look at the person in front of them and remember:

There is a human being here.

And for those of us who follow Jesus, perhaps this is part of what it means to live out the Gospel.

Not merely talking about good news.

Bringing good news.

Not merely posting Scripture.

Living Scripture.

Not merely telling people that God loves them.

Showing them what love looks like.

Romans 10:15 asks us to imagine beautiful feet—the feet of people who carry good news into the world.

So before we ask what the world is bringing to us today, perhaps we should ask a different question:

What are we bringing to the world?

What news will our feet carry into our homes?

What news will they carry into our workplaces?

What news will they carry into our churches?

What news will they carry into our neighborhoods?

And what news will they carry onto our social-media pages?

We may not be able to control every headline.

We may not be able to fix every problem.

We may not be able to change the entire world.

But we can choose what we carry into the little corner of the world where God has placed us today.

So go.

Walk into someone’s darkness carrying a little light.

Walk into someone’s loneliness carrying companionship.

Walk into someone’s fear carrying courage.

Walk into someone’s grief carrying presence.

Walk into someone’s anger carrying peace.

Walk into someone’s hopelessness carrying hope.

And if you follow Jesus, carry His love with you.

Because perhaps the question isn’t simply whether our feet are beautiful.

Perhaps the real question is:

What kind of news are our feet carrying?

May our feet carry good news.

May our words carry grace.

May our hands carry compassion.

May our lives carry hope.

And may the people we encounter today be able to say:

“I am glad you showed up.” ~OC

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What About The People?

There is something I keep coming back to, and I believe we need to ask ourselves some hard questions.

What about the people?

People are struggling to put food on the table.

Families are feeling the pain at the gas pump. Gas prices have risen substantially this year, with the national average reaching levels above $4 a gallon amid the continuing disruption of global oil markets.

America is involved in an ongoing war with Iran—one that has already cost American lives and continues to affect energy markets and the global economy.

And healthcare?

For millions of Americans, affordable healthcare remains out of reach. The Census Bureau reports that 26.7 million Americans—7.9% of the population—were uninsured for the entire year in 2025.

Meanwhile, the current administration is pursuing major construction and other high-profile projects in Washington, including a proposed $400 million White House ballroom complex and plans involving a proposed triumphal arch.

And that’s where I have to ask:

What about the people?

What about the mother standing in the grocery store trying to figure out what she can afford?

What about the father watching the gas pump climb higher and wondering which bill he will have to postpone?

What about the senior citizen choosing between medication and groceries?

What about the person who is sick but afraid to seek medical care because of the cost?

What about the military families worrying about loved ones serving in a war zone?

What about the Americans who are working hard every day and still struggling to make ends meet?

These aren’t abstract political issues.

These are human beings.

I believe government should never lose sight of the people it exists to serve.

And that’s why I struggle when it appears that enormous buildings, monuments, renovations, and political legacy projects can command so much attention while ordinary Americans are struggling with basic necessities.

There is nothing inherently wrong with building something beautiful.

There is nothing inherently wrong with investing in infrastructure.

There is nothing inherently wrong with having ambitious national projects.

But there is something wrong when the people begin to feel forgotten.

Leadership, in my view, isn’t measured by the size of a building.

It isn’t measured by how impressive a project looks.

It isn’t measured by how much attention a president or politician receives.

Leadership is ultimately about people.

It’s about serving.

It’s about listening.

It’s about protecting.

It’s about making difficult decisions with the wellbeing of the country—not personal legacy—at the center.

And that’s why I believe Americans have a responsibility to pay attention.

Not just Republicans.

Not just Democrats.

Not conservatives.

Not liberals.

All of us.

We cannot afford to treat politics like a football game where we automatically defend our team regardless of what happens on the field.

Our allegiance to a political party should never be greater than our commitment to truth, integrity, our neighbors, and the wellbeing of our country.

So as we approach the November elections, please do your homework.

Don’t simply believe what someone posts on Facebook.

Don’t let a television commercial make your decision.

Don’t listen to only the people who already agree with you.

Look at the candidates.

Look at their records.

Read their policies.

Examine the spending.

Check the claims.

Look at what has actually happened—not just what someone promises will happen.

Listen to opposing viewpoints.

Ask hard questions.

And then—

pray.

Pray for wisdom.

Pray for discernment.

Pray for our country.

Pray for our military.

Pray for our communities.

Pray for the people who will be elected.

And perhaps most importantly, pray for ourselves.

Pray that we won’t be motivated by hatred.

Pray that we won’t be controlled by fear.

Pray that we won’t become so politically tribal that we can’t recognize truth when it comes from someone we disagree with.

Because the November election isn’t simply about political parties.

It’s about choices.

It’s about accountability.

It’s about the direction our communities and our country take.

And we each have a responsibility to participate.

So don’t just complain.

Learn.

Listen.

Question.

Verify.

Pray.

And vote.

Don’t vote because I told you how to vote.

Don’t vote because your neighbor told you how to vote.

Don’t vote because a political party told you how to vote.

Vote after you’ve done the work.

Because democracy requires more than passionate opinions.

It requires informed citizens.

And regardless of where you stand politically, I hope we can agree on one thing:

The American people should never become an afterthought.

People matter.

Families matter.

Our seniors matter.

Our children matter.

Our veterans matter.

Our sick and vulnerable neighbors matter.

And the people who are struggling today matter.

What about the people?

That’s the question I hope every candidate—and every voter—will be willing to answer. ~OC

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