When We Chose Silence

History never arrives wearing a name tag.

It comes in headlines,

executive orders,

courtrooms,

classrooms,

detention centers,

empty dinner tables,

and neighbors who suddenly disappear
from the routines of ordinary life.

It asks no one,
“Do you agree?”

Only,
“Will you notice?”

While some argued over politics,
children wondered if they would see
their parents again after school.

While some celebrated victories,
others quietly packed backpacks,
unsure if tomorrow would still feel
like home.

While many said,
“It isn’t happening to me,”
the circle kept growing,
its shadow stretching farther
than anyone expected.

A journalist lost a voice.

A teacher lost a lesson.

A veteran lost a place to sleep.

A refugee lost hope.

A worker lost dignity.

A family lost certainty.

And every loss whispered
the same question:

Who will stand beside them?

Freedom was never meant
to belong only to those
who look like us,
pray like us,
vote like us,
or were born where we were.

Justice was never intended
to recognize passports
before people.

Compassion was never supposed
to require permission.

One day,
our grandchildren may read
the journals written in 2026.

They may ask why children
wrote about fear instead of dreams.

Why families described hiding
instead of celebrating.

Why so many adults
mistook silence for peace.

I hope they also discover
another story—

Of ordinary people
who refused to let fear
have the final word.

People who crossed
political lines,
cultural lines,
and every invisible line
that divided neighbor from neighbor.

People who understood
that the measure of a nation
is not how loudly it celebrates liberty,
but how faithfully it protects
the vulnerable.

Because history remembers
more than what was done.

It remembers
who looked away,

and who,
at the right moment,

chose to speak. ~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

Hope Isles: A New Beginning/Chapter Twenty-Two: The First Winds

The weather changed overnight.

Not enough for tourists to notice.

Not enough for the ferry service to issue warnings.

But the people who had spent their lives on the water felt it immediately.

The air carried a strange heaviness.

The harbor seemed quieter.

Even the gulls behaved differently.

Walter noticed all of it.

By sunrise, he was already standing near the lighthouse with a cup of coffee in his hand.

His eyes remained fixed on the horizon.

Ethan eventually joined him.

“You’ve been up since four, haven’t you?”

Walter didn’t deny it.

“You ever get the feeling something’s coming?”

Ethan chuckled.

“Besides old age?”

Walter didn’t smile.

That alone got Ethan’s attention.

“What is it?”

Walter shook his head.

“I don’t know.”

And that was the truth.

The unsettling feeling had remained with him all night.

Not fear.

Not panic.

Just an awareness.

As though God was preparing the island for something.

Something none of them could yet see.

Meanwhile, James spent most of the morning trying not to think about his father.

Daniel’s tests were underway.

There was nothing he could do.

Nothing he could control.

So he threw himself into work at Hope House.

The community center had become busier than ever.

Families came for support groups.

Teenagers gathered for after-school programs.

Retirees volunteered throughout the week.

What had once been a neglected building now pulsed with life.

As James repaired shelving in one of the classrooms, Sarah walked in carrying several folders.

“You’ve been avoiding your phone.”

James glanced up.

“I know.”

“You nervous?”

“A little.”

Sarah smiled sympathetically.

“A little?”

“Okay. A lot.”

She sat beside him.

“You know your father would tell you not to spend all day worrying.”

“That’s exactly what he’d say.”

“And?”

James sighed.

“I’m ignoring him.”

That finally earned a laugh from both of them.

For a moment, the tension eased.

Then Sarah’s expression softened.

“Whatever happens, you’re not carrying it alone.”

The words hit him harder than he expected.

Because for most of his life, carrying things alone had been his specialty.

Hope Isles had slowly changed that.

Across town, June was busy doing what June always did during uncertain times.

Cooking.

By noon, she had prepared enough food to feed half the island.

Walter walked into the café and stared at the crowded counter.

“June.”

She looked up.

“Yes?”

“Are you preparing for a hurricane or a church potluck?”

June pointed a spoon at him.

“Both.”

Walter nodded.

“Reasonable.”

Neither found that answer unusual.

Late that afternoon, the phone finally rang.

James answered before the first ring had fully ended.

“Dad?”

Daniel’s voice sounded tired.

But there was something else.

Relief.

“Hey, son.”

James immediately noticed.

“What happened?”

A pause.

Then:

“The scans looked better than expected.”

James closed his eyes.

His shoulders instantly relaxed.

Not a miracle.

Not a complete victory.

But good news.

Real news.

The kind they had desperately needed.

Daniel continued.

“The doctors still want to monitor everything.”

“Of course.”

“But today was a good day.”

James smiled.

A genuine smile.

The first one he’d felt all day.

“That’s enough.”

“It is.”

For several moments neither spoke.

Neither needed to.

Gratitude filled the silence.

Finally Daniel chuckled.

“You can tell June she doesn’t need to bake an emergency celebration pie.”

James laughed.

“I’m pretty sure she’s already baked six of them.”

“Then we’re in trouble.”

That evening the town gathered near the harbor for its weekly outdoor concert.

Children ran between rows of folding chairs.

Musicians tuned guitars.

Neighbors shared stories.

The familiar rhythm of Hope Isles continued.

Yet beneath the laughter, Walter still felt unsettled.

As the music played, he found himself looking repeatedly toward the darkening horizon.

The clouds had grown larger.

Closer.

The wind had strengthened.

A storm was definitely coming.

But it wasn’t the weather that troubled him anymore.

It was a conversation he had overheard earlier that day.

A conversation between two visitors from the mainland.

Developers.

Investors.

People carrying maps.

Survey reports.

Plans.

Big plans.

Plans involving Hope Isles.

Walter had heard enough to understand one thing.

Someone wanted to change the island.

Not improve it.

Change it.

And if the rumors proved true, Hope House, Sit Awhile Café, and much of the waterfront could be caught in the middle.

The realization settled heavily on him.

For decades, Hope Isles had weathered storms from the sea.

But this storm might arrive in suits and briefcases.

And those storms were often far more dangerous.

As the concert ended, Walter spotted James and Sarah walking together along the harbor.

Laughing.

Enjoying the peace of the evening.

Walter watched them quietly.

Part of him wanted to warn them immediately.

Another part wanted one more night before the trouble began.

One more night of normal.

One more night of peace.

But deep down he knew that peace was already changing.

The wind shifted again.

The lighthouse beam swept across the dark water.

And somewhere beyond the horizon, forces were already moving toward Hope Isles.

For better or worse, the next chapter of the island’s story had begun.

And this time, the challenge wouldn’t test their endurance.

It would test what they were willing to fight for.

To Be Continued…

Who Will You Stand In The Gap For?

Today’s a new day!

There is a question that every follower of Jesus should ask themselves from time to time.

Who am I willing to stand in the gap for?

Is it only the person who looks like you?

The one who thinks like you?

The one who votes like you?

The one who worships like you?

The one who believes exactly as you do?

The one who speaks your language?

The one who was born in the same country as you?

Or are you willing to stand in the gap for anyone God places in your path?

Throughout the Gospels, Jesus continually crossed the boundaries that people had built. He touched those considered unclean. He ate with tax collectors and sinners. He spoke with Samaritans. He healed Roman servants. He welcomed children. He defended the outcast. He loved those society had rejected.

He never asked whether someone had earned His compassion before extending it.

Instead, He saw people made in the image of God.

That same calling has been given to us.

The world is becoming increasingly divided. We are encouraged to place labels on one another before we ever learn each other’s names. Political affiliation, nationality, race, denomination, social status, education, income, and ideology have become walls that separate people.

Yet the Cross tears those walls down.

Jesus did not die only for people who would someday agree with us.

He died for the whole world.

Every refugee.

Every immigrant.

Every prisoner.

Every addict.

Every widow.

Every orphan.

Every veteran.

Every child.

Every elderly neighbor.

Every wealthy executive.

Every person experiencing homelessness.

Every believer.

Every skeptic.

Every person struggling to find hope.

Every person you may never fully understand.

The ground at the foot of the Cross is level.

Our assignment as Christians is not to decide who deserves our love.

Our assignment is to love.

Sometimes standing in the gap means praying for someone who has no one else praying for them.

Sometimes it means buying a meal.

Sometimes it means listening instead of arguing.

Sometimes it means forgiving when forgiveness feels impossible.

Sometimes it means speaking up for someone whose voice has been ignored.

Sometimes it means sitting beside someone everyone else has walked away from.

Sometimes it simply means reminding another person that they are not forgotten.

Standing in the gap isn’t comfortable.

It wasn’t comfortable for Jesus either.

His love carried Him all the way to Calvary.

The Cross reminds us that sacrificial love is rarely convenient, but it is always powerful.

Imagine what our communities would look like if Christians became known less for the people we exclude and more for the people we embrace.

Imagine churches where everyone knew they would be welcomed.

Imagine conversations marked more by grace than by outrage.

Imagine believers who loved so deeply that people caught a glimpse of Jesus before they ever heard a sermon.

That is what it means to be the hands and feet of Christ.

The next time you encounter someone who is different from you, don’t begin by asking whether they deserve your compassion.

Instead, remember this:

Jesus loves them.

Jesus died for them.

Jesus is pursuing them.

And perhaps He is asking you to stand in the gap for them.

May we be people whose love reflects the heart of Christ rather than the divisions of our culture.

May our hands be quick to serve.

May our words be full of grace.

May our prayers extend beyond those who are easy to love.

And may we never forget that someone once stood in the gap for us.

His name is Jesus Christ.

Because He stood in the gap between a holy God and sinful humanity, we have been offered forgiveness, redemption, and eternal life.

Now it is our turn to carry His love into a hurting world.

Who will you stand in the gap for today? ~OC

Living A Life Of Significance:Day 3

Day 3: Salt and Light

Scripture Reading: Matthew 5:13-16  

Reflection: Significance is influence. Salt preserves. Light exposes. Both are ordinary things with extraordinary impact in the right place.  

Application: Where is one room, one workplace, one family conversation where you can bring light today?  

Prayer: Jesus, help me flavor my world with grace.

Healing Prayer

Jesus, Our Amazing Healer

“But He was pierced for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on Him, and by His wounds we are healed.” — Isaiah 53:5

“Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.” — Hebrews 13:8

Dear Heavenly Father,

Today we come before You with grateful hearts, praising You for Your endless love, Your mercy, and the healing found through Your Son, Jesus Christ. You are Jehovah Rapha, the Lord who heals (Exodus 15:26), and nothing is impossible for You (Luke 1:37).

Jesus, throughout the Gospels You touched the blind and they received their sight. You spoke to the lame and they walked. You cleansed those with leprosy, restored the brokenhearted, raised the dead, and brought hope to those who had none. Your compassion never failed, and Your power was always greater than sickness, fear, or despair.

Lord, we stand on Your promises today. Your Word declares, “Praise the Lord, my soul… who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases” (Psalm 103:2–3). We believe that You still heal hearts, minds, bodies, and souls according to Your perfect will.

Father, bring healing where there is pain. Bring strength where there is weakness. Bring peace where there is anxiety. Restore what illness has stolen. Encourage those who are weary. Comfort those waiting for answers. Let Your Holy Spirit surround every hospital room, every home, every caregiver, and every person crying out to You.

Your Word reminds us in Jeremiah 17:14, “Heal me, Lord, and I will be healed; save me and I will be saved, for You are the one I praise.” We place our trust completely in You.

As James 5:14–15 teaches us, we pray in faith, believing that You hear the prayers of Your people. May every healing become a testimony that points others to Jesus Christ, bringing glory to Your holy name.

Lord, even in seasons when healing comes differently than we expect, help us remember that Your presence never leaves us. Your grace is sufficient, Your strength is made perfect in weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9), and Your plans are always good.

We rejoice because You are our Savior, our Redeemer, our Great Physician, and our Living Hope. Thank You for every miracle You have already done and every miracle still to come.

A Short Closing Prayer

Jesus, thank You for loving us so completely. Fill us with faith, courage, and hope as we trust in Your healing power. Let our lives reflect Your goodness, and may everything we do bring honor and glory to You. We rest in Your unfailing love today and always.

We pray all of these things in the mighty and powerful name of Jesus. Amen.

True Difference-Makers

Today’s a new day!

We live in a culture that often celebrates the loudest voices, the biggest platforms, and the wealthiest people. Every day we are bombarded with stories of people chasing power, fame, influence, and money, as though those things alone define a successful life.

But I have discovered something far more inspiring.

There are still people quietly changing the world.

They may or may not trend on social media. They may or may not become household names. They may or may not receive the recognition they deserve. Yet every single day they choose compassion and truth over applause, service over status, and people over personal gain.

I wanted to take a moment to recognize just a few individuals whose lives have encouraged me.

Ricky Aiken- Inner City Innovators:

Ricky Aiken has dedicated his life to investing in young people and underserved communities through Inner City Innovators (https://innercityinnovators.org/). Rather than asking, “How can I become successful?” he asks, “How can I help someone else succeed?”

His work is about creating opportunities where others see obstacles, building hope where many only see despair, and reminding people that every life has value.

That kind of leadership isn’t built on ego.

It’s built on love.

Bryan Stevenson-Equal Justice Initiative:

Bryan Stevenson has spent decades standing beside people whom much of society has forgotten. Through the Equal Justice Initiative (https://eji.org/), he has become a powerful voice for justice, mercy, and human dignity.

One of his most memorable statements is this:

“Each of us is more than the worst thing we’ve ever done.”

Those words reflect a truth Christians 

understand well. Every one of us stands in need of grace. Every one of us has been offered redemption through Christ.

Justice without compassion becomes cold.

Compassion without justice becomes incomplete.

Bryan Stevenson reminds us that both matter.

Benjamin R. Cremer:

Benjamin Cremer (https://benjaminrcremer.substack.com/ ), consistently challenges Christians to look more like Jesus than like the culture around us.

His writing encourages believers to choose humility over arrogance, love over outrage, and faithfulness over political power.

In a time when Christianity is too often associated with division, Benjamin continually points people back to the heart of Jesus.

Not everyone agrees with him.

That isn’t the point.

His willingness to speak with humility, compassion, and conviction is something our world desperately needs.

Suleika Jaouad:

Suleika Jaouad (https://www.suleikajaouad.com/), has shared her deeply personal journey through illness, uncertainty, hope, and resilience with remarkable honesty.

Instead of allowing suffering to define her, she has used it to connect with countless others walking through their own difficult seasons.

She reminds us that healing isn’t always about becoming who we once were.

Sometimes healing is becoming someone entirely new.

As someone who has spent many years navigating serious health challenges, I deeply appreciate voices that speak honestly about pain while refusing to surrender hope.

A Different Kind of Legacy

These four people come from different backgrounds.

They may have different beliefs.

They may serve in different ways.

Yet they share something that seems increasingly rare.

They have chosen to live for something bigger than themselves.

They remind us that changing the world doesn’t always happen from a stage.

Sometimes it happens in a courtroom.

Sometimes it happens in forgotten neighborhoods.

Sometimes it happens through honest conversations.

Sometimes it happens one person at a time.

What Will Be Said About Us?

When our lives are over, people probably won’t remember how many followers we had.

They won’t remember how much money we accumulated.

They won’t remember how famous we became.

They will remember how we treated people.

Did we lift others up?

Did we stand beside those who were hurting?

Did we speak truth with grace?

Did we leave the world more compassionate than we found it?

Jesus never told His followers to seek fame.

He told us to love our neighbors.

He never instructed us to chase power.

He taught us to become servants.

He never measured success by influence.

He measured it by faithfulness.

Perhaps that’s the kind of legacy worth pursuing.

In a world obsessed with being noticed, may we become people who quietly notice others.

Because those are often the people who change the world the most. ~OC

The Written Word

For a long time, I believed that if I could simply get people to press “play,” they would hear my heart.

I recorded spoken-word videos, hoping that the voices, the pauses, and and emotions would carry each message farther than words on a page ever could. And while many listened, I slowly began to realize something unexpected.

Somewhere between the background music, the editing, and the performance, the message itself was getting lost.

The words that had been born out of prayer, tears, hope, were becoming entertainment for some rather than an invitation to reflect. My voice was being heard, but my heart wasn’t always being understood.

So today, I made a quiet decision.

I’m putting down the microphone.

Not because I have nothing left to say, but because I believe the written word is where my voice is the clearest. On the page, every sentence has room to breathe. Every thought invites the reader to slow down instead of simply moving on to the next video.

This isn’t an ending.

It’s a return.

A return to the place where these messages first began—with a iPhone, an open Bible, whispered prayers, and a desire to encourage people to draw closer to Jesus.

I know it may be easier to click “play” than to read a blog post. Life is busy, and I understand that. But if even one person pauses long enough to truly hear what God has placed on my heart through these written words, then the change is worth it.

So, beginning today, I’ll only be sharing the written versions of my blog posts.

To everyone who has watched a video, read a blog, left a comment, shared a post, or simply spent a few moments considering my thoughts—thank you. Your encouragement has meant more than you know.

The microphone may be silent.

But the message continues.

And sometimes, the quietest words leave the deepest echo. ~OC

What I Look For In A Leader

Today’s a new day!

As followers of Jesus, we are called to pray for those in authority (1 Timothy 2:1–2). We are also called to exercise wisdom and discernment when evaluating the character of those who seek to lead.

When I consider a political candidate, my first question isn’t, “What party do they belong to?” My question is, “What kind of person are they becoming?”

These are some of the qualities I look for.

I look for a joyful heart. Not a manufactured smile for the cameras, but a genuine joy that reflects gratitude, humility, and hope. Scripture reminds us that “the joy of the Lord is your strength” (Nehemiah 8:10). A joyful heart often points to a soul that isn’t driven solely by fear, anger, or resentment.

I look for a clear mind that produces clear thoughts and the ability to express those thoughts with maturity. Leadership requires wisdom. Decisions affect millions of lives, and words have the power to unite or divide. Mature communication matters.

I look for self-restraint. In a culture that rewards outrage and impulsive reactions, self-control is becoming increasingly rare. Yet Scripture calls self-control one of the fruits of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22–23). A leader who cannot govern themselves will struggle to govern wisely.

I look for someone who values people more than power. Power should never become the goal; it should be a tool used to serve others. Jesus, the greatest leader who ever lived, washed the feet of His disciples instead of demanding they serve Him. That is the model of leadership I admire.

I look for someone who respects people—even those who disagree with them. We don’t have to agree with everyone to treat them with dignity. Every person bears the image of God. Civility is not weakness; it is evidence of maturity.

I look for someone who can receive constructive criticism. None of us has all the answers. Wise leaders surround themselves with truth-tellers instead of yes-men. Humility allows correction to become growth instead of offense.

Finally, I look for a heart that produces both kindness and strength. Kindness without conviction can become compromise. Strength without kindness can become cruelty. Jesus embodied both perfectly. He stood firmly for truth while extending extraordinary compassion to people who were hurting.

As I look across today’s political landscape, I find myself longing to see these qualities displayed more consistently in our leaders. That longing isn’t about one party or another. It reflects a desire for leadership that more closely resembles the character Scripture commends.

Perhaps the greatest challenge isn’t simply asking whether our leaders possess these qualities.

Perhaps it’s asking whether we do.

Are we joyful?

Are we self-controlled?

Do we value people over winning arguments?

Do we listen well?

Do we show kindness without abandoning truth?

The Church should be known for these qualities long before we expect them from Washington, our state capitals, or city halls.

Our ultimate hope has never rested in a president, governor, senator, or political party. Our hope rests in Jesus Christ—the King whose kingdom cannot be shaken.

So let us pray for our leaders. Let us vote with wisdom. Let us speak with grace. And above all, let us live in such a way that the character of Christ shines through us, regardless of who occupies positions of earthly authority.

Because while elections shape nations, transformed hearts change the world. ~OC

Dear Christian Community: The World Isn’t Rejecting Jesus

Dear Christian Community,

I have spent countless hours talking with people who don’t attend church, who have walked away from the faith, or who have never considered following Jesus.

One thing has become increasingly clear.

Most of them are not rejecting Jesus.

They are rejecting what they have seen from many who claim to represent Him.

They have read about the Jesus who welcomed sinners, touched lepers, defended the broken, forgave His enemies, washed His disciples’ feet, and willingly gave His life on a cross for the salvation of the world.

Then they look at much of modern Christianity.

Instead of humility, they see arrogance.

Instead of compassion, they see outrage.

Instead of mercy, they see judgment.

Instead of sacrificial love, they often see a relentless pursuit of political influence and cultural power.

Some churches have become so consumed with defending political ideologies that the Gospel has been pushed to the background. Sermons increasingly sound like campaign speeches. Social media feeds often reflect more passion for political victories than for seeing lost people encounter Jesus.

When political identity becomes more important than our identity in Christ, something has gone terribly wrong.

Jesus never called us to build earthly kingdoms.

He called us to build His Kingdom.

He never instructed His followers to place their hope in governments, political parties, or elected officials. He told us to seek first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness. He commanded us to love God with all our heart and to love our neighbors as ourselves.

Our greatest weapon has never been political power.

It has always been the love of Christ.

The early Church transformed the world without controlling governments. They had no political majority, no cultural influence, and no worldly authority. Yet they turned the world upside down because they loved extravagantly, served sacrificially, forgave freely, and boldly proclaimed the resurrection of Jesus Christ.

That same Gospel still changes lives today.

But if we replace it with political tribalism, people will naturally conclude that Christianity is simply another ideology competing for influence.

The Church should never become known more for its political preferences than for its love.

Jesus said the world would know we are His disciples by our love for one another—not by our voting record, our online arguments, or our ability to win cultural battles.

This isn’t a call to withdraw from society or to stop caring about important issues. Christians should engage the world with wisdom, conviction, and courage.

But our highest allegiance must always belong to Jesus Christ.

The Gospel is too beautiful to be overshadowed by partisan division.

If people reject Jesus after seeing His love, hearing His truth, and encountering His grace, that is their decision.

But may they never reject Him because we failed to reflect Him.

Church, perhaps it’s time to ask ourselves some difficult questions.

Are we known more for making disciples or making political statements?

Do people see Christ when they look at us?

Are we carrying our cross—or merely carrying our preferred ideology?

The world desperately needs Jesus.

Let’s make sure they actually get to see Him.

May our churches once again become places where grace is abundant, truth is spoken in love, the hurting are welcomed, the forgotten are seen, and every person encounters the transforming hope found only in Jesus Christ.

Because the world doesn’t need a more politically powerful Church.

It needs a more Christlike one.

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