Today’s a new day!
Fear may whisper,
“Turn around, don’t go.”
But faith says,
“Take the step—
there’s freedom where you go.”
Face the darkness,
walk through the pain,
trust that the storm
won’t always remain.
For courage begins
when fear loses control—
sometimes you must face fear
to set free your soul. ~OC
Today’s a new day!
Here is my medical rap sheet.
Looking at that list, many people would probably assume my life is over.
They would assume the best years are behind me. That my dreams have ended. That all that’s left is surviving.
But they would be wrong.
Every single day, I choose life.
I choose to keep making memories with my beautiful bride. I choose to laugh, to love, and to appreciate the moments that many people rush past.
I choose to continue advocating for other patients who need someone to remind them that they are more than a diagnosis.
I choose to keep fighting against human trafficking because there are people who desperately need hope, justice, and someone willing to stand in the gap.
Does that mean this health journey is easy?
Absolutely not.
There are days filled with pain. Days of exhaustion. Days when my body reminds me of every diagnosis on that list.
But years ago, I made a decision.
This health battle would never become my identity.
My diagnoses describe some of the battles I face—they do not define the man I am.
I refuse to allow illness to steal my purpose. I refuse to let disease dictate my joy. I refuse to surrender the calling God has placed on my life simply because my body doesn’t always cooperate.
Instead, I choose to keep living.
I choose to keep loving.
I choose to keep serving.
I choose to keep overcoming.
If you’re walking through a battle today—whether it’s a health crisis, grief, depression, financial hardship, addiction, or something no one else can see—I want to encourage you.
Don’t let your battle become your identity.
Keep fighting.
Keep making memories.
Keep dreaming.
Keep showing up.
Keep loving the people around you.
Live your life to the fullest, even if it looks different than you once imagined.
Champions aren’t defined by the battles they face.
They’re defined by the courage to keep getting back up.
So today…
Choose hope.
Choose purpose.
Choose joy.
Choose life.
And whatever comes your way, keep overcoming.
Live like a champion. ~OC
I remember when I walked into church and the first thing I noticed wasn’t a political slogan.
It wasn’t a candidate’s name.
It wasn’t a red hat, a blue hat, or a message about which political party was saving America.
It was the cross.
The cross was the center of the room.
We sang about Jesus.
We prayed for the broken.
We collected food for families who couldn’t afford groceries.
We visited people in hospitals.
We welcomed the stranger.
We prayed for our enemies.
We didn’t have to agree politically to worship together.
We just had to agree that Jesus was Lord.
I remember those days.
I miss those days.
And sometimes I wonder if Jesus misses them too.
Because the Church was never supposed to be built around a political party.
It was supposed to be built around a Savior. ~OC
Today’s a new day!
I am often ask if Jesus can still use people with chronic long term health issues.
Absolutely.
The world often measures our value by what we can accomplish, how much we produce, or how strong we appear. But Jesus has never measured people that way.
Throughout Scripture, God chose imperfect, weary, and broken people to accomplish extraordinary things. His power has always been greater than our limitations.
Maybe your body doesn’t cooperate the way it once did. Maybe chronic illness has changed your plans, stolen your energy, or forced you to slow down. That doesn’t mean your purpose has disappeared. It simply means your ministry may look different than it once did.
Sometimes the greatest testimony isn’t found in what we accomplish—it’s found in how we trust Jesus when the miracle hasn’t come yet.
Your prayers still matter.
Your encouragement still matters.
Your faith still matters.
Your story still matters.
People are watching to see what hope looks like in the middle of suffering. Every time you choose joy over despair, faith over fear, and worship over worry, you point others toward Christ.
Jesus doesn’t wait until we’re healthy to use us.
He meets us right where we are and often shines brightest through our weakness.
If you’ve ever wondered whether your chronic health issues have sidelined you from God’s kingdom, remember this: your illness may limit your strength, but it cannot limit God’s power.
You are not disqualified.
You are still called.
You are still loved.
You are still being used.
And your greatest ministry may be unfolding right in the middle of your struggle. ~OC
“My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness” ~2 Corinthians 12:9
I have come to a place in my faith where I would rather upset my fellow Christian community by loving the people Jesus called us to love than fit comfortably among Christians united by who they condemn.
That may not always make me popular.
It may not earn me invitations.
It may make some people question my theology, my priorities, or even my faith.
But I can live with that.
Because when I look at Jesus, I don’t see someone building His ministry around determining who was worthy of love.
I see Him moving toward the hurting.
Toward the rejected.
Toward the outcast.
Toward sinners.
Toward people religious society had already written off.
Jesus touched the untouchable.
He ate with people others avoided.
He spoke with people others ignored.
He defended people others condemned.
He showed mercy when others demanded judgment.
And He commanded us to love our neighbors—not just the neighbors who look like us, vote like us, worship like us, think like us, or agree with us.
Love is not supposed to be selective.
If my Christianity requires me to hate someone in order to prove that I belong to the right group, then I need to take another long look at Jesus.
I don’t want to be part of a Christian community that is united primarily by the people it opposes.
I want to be part of a Church united by the One it follows.
Jesus.
I would rather be criticized for loving too many people than praised for condemning too many.
I would rather be accused of having too much compassion than too little.
I would rather stand beside someone who is hurting and remind them that they are loved than stand at a distance and remind them of everything they have done wrong.
That doesn’t mean truth doesn’t matter.
It does.
But Jesus never separated truth from love.
Grace and truth walked together.
So if loving like Jesus makes me uncomfortable to some Christians, I’ll accept the discomfort.
If compassion makes me controversial, so be it.
If welcoming the hurting makes some people question me, I’ll answer with the example of Christ.
Because at the end of the day, I don’t want to be known as someone who was really good at identifying who was wrong.
I want to be known as someone who loved people well.
I want people to encounter Jesus when they encounter me.
Not my politics.
Not my anger.
Not my judgment.
Not my tribe.
Jesus.
There are already enough Christians standing together because of who they condemn.
I want to stand with Christians who are willing to love because of who Jesus is.
So yes…
I would rather upset my fellow Christians by loving the people Jesus called us to love than fit comfortably among Christians united by who they choose to condemn.
Because I would rather be uncomfortable with people while following Jesus…
than comfortable with people while becoming unlike Him.
“By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” — John 13:35
Love isn’t weakness.
Love isn’t compromise.
Love isn’t abandoning truth.
Love is one of the clearest ways we show the world that we belong to Jesus. ~OC
Today’s a new day!
I know what it’s like to be dying.
I know what it feels like to look at your life and realize that tomorrow is never promised. I know what it’s like to spend time in hospital rooms, sit across from doctors, hear words that change the way you look at the future, and wonder how much time you have left.
I know what it’s like to come face-to-face with my own mortality.
But here’s the thing:
I don’t spend much time thinking about death.
I know it’s there.
I know one day my earthly journey will come to an end. I don’t deny it. I don’t run from it. And because of my faith, I don’t fear what comes after this life.
But I’m not going to spend the days I’ve been given worrying about the day they run out.
I’ve got too much living to do.
I’ve got too many memories to make.
Too many conversations to have.
Too many sunsets to watch.
Too many laughs to share.
Too many hugs to give.
Too many stories still waiting to be told.
Too many people I love who still need to hear, “I love you.”
There are places I still want to see, songs I still want to write, prayers I still want to pray, and moments I still want to experience.
There are memories I haven’t made yet with the people I love.
So I’m going to make them.
I’m going to laugh when I can.
I’m going to cry when I need to.
I’m going to celebrate the ordinary moments because I’ve learned that ordinary moments are often the extraordinary ones we remember most.
I’m going to sit a little longer at the dinner table.
I’m going to call the friend I’ve been meaning to call.
I’m going to tell people what they mean to me while they’re still here—and while I’m still here.
I’m going to stop saving life for someday.
Because someday isn’t guaranteed.
Today is.
Living with serious health challenges has taught me something I could never have learned from a textbook:
Life isn’t measured only by how many years we have.
It’s measured by what we do with the years we’ve been given.
Death may be somewhere down the road, but I’m not going to stand on the road staring at it.
I’m going to keep walking.
I’m going to keep loving.
I’m going to keep believing.
I’m going to keep making memories.
I’m going to keep squeezing every drop of meaning, purpose, joy, and hope out of this crazy, beautiful life.
And when my time finally comes, I don’t want to look back and wish I had lived more.
I want to be able to say:
I lived.
I loved deeply.
I laughed loudly.
I made memories.
I encouraged people.
I shared my faith.
I fought through the hard days.
I celebrated the good ones.
I didn’t waste my life being afraid of losing it.
I chose to live it.
Because death may be inevitable.
But today is a gift.
And I’m not wasting the gift.
I’ve got too much living to do.
Too much loving to do.
Too many memories to make.
Too much purpose left to pursue.
And as long as God gives me breath…
I’m going to fully embrace it. ~OC
Today’s a new day!
As I have walked this crazy beautiful health journey, I have had more than one person ask me what sin do I have in my life, that would cause me to be chronically ill. I have also had more than one person question my faith based on my health issues.
A dangerous lie found its way into the Church and the Christian community: if you’re sick, you must have done something wrong. If you just had enough faith, prayed harder, or lived a holier life, your illness would disappear.
But that isn’t the message of Jesus.
Chronic illness is not a sin.
Living with long-term condition is not evidence that God has abandoned you. It is not proof that your faith is weak. It is not a punishment for hidden sin.
We live in a fallen world where sickness exists because of the brokenness brought about by sin entering creation—not because every illness is directly tied to an individual’s personal sin.
Jesus repeatedly challenged this misconception. When His disciples asked whether a blind man had sinned or whether his parents had sinned, Jesus answered, “Neither this man nor his parents sinned” (John 9:3). Instead of assigning blame, Jesus demonstrated the compassion and power of God.
Think about the Apostle Paul. He pleaded with God three times to remove his “thorn in the flesh,” yet God responded, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.” Paul wasn’t being punished. God was revealing His strength through a life that knew weakness.
The Bible is filled with faithful people who endured suffering. Job suffered immensely. Timothy battled recurring health problems. Trophimus was left sick. These men were not outside of God’s will—they were walking faithfully with Him.
The Church must stop treating chronic illness as a spiritual failure.
Instead of asking, “What sin caused this?” perhaps we should ask, “How can we carry this person’s burden?” Instead of offering shame, we should offer prayer. Instead of judgment, we should offer compassion. Instead of simplistic answers, we should simply sit beside someone and remind them they are deeply loved by God.
Some of the strongest believers I know are those who worship through pain every single day. They continue to trust Jesus when healing hasn’t come. They continue to serve even when their bodies won’t cooperate. Their faith isn’t smaller because of their illness—it often shines even brighter because of it.
Healing is real, and we should never stop praying for miracles. God still heals. But whether healing comes today, years from now, or ultimately in eternity, God’s love does not change.
Your diagnosis does not define your value.
Your disability does not diminish your purpose.
Your limitations do not limit God.
If you are living with a chronic illness today, hear this truth: You are not forgotten. You are not being punished. You are not a second-class Christian.
You are still called.
You are still loved.
You are still valuable.
And God can use your life in ways you may never fully understand this side of heaven.
Chronic illness is not a sin.
It may be part of your story, but it is never the end of it. Jesus is. ~OC
Storms have a way of stealing our focus. The wind gets louder, the waves grow higher, and fear begins to whisper that we’re sinking.
But just as Peter discovered on the water, everything changes when we fix our eyes on Jesus instead of the storm. The waves may still crash around us, but His presence brings peace that circumstances cannot take away.
Whatever storm you’re facing today, don’t let it become bigger than your Savior. Keep looking to Jesus. He is still faithful, still in control, and still leading you safely through to the other side. ~OC
“Fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith.” — Hebrews 12:2
Today’s a new day!
There are moments in life when the weight of the battle tries to convince us that we were created to surrender. Pain whispers that we’re finished. Disappointment tells us our best days are behind us. Fear insists that the mountain in front of us is too high to climb.
But God says something completely different.
I was created to overcome.
That isn’t positive thinking. It isn’t pretending life is easy. It’s a declaration rooted in the character of God.
Jesus never promised His followers a life free from hardship. He promised His presence in the middle of it. He said, “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” Because He overcame, those who belong to Him are called to live as overcomers—not by their own strength, but through His.
Overcoming doesn’t always look the way we expect.
Sometimes overcoming is standing after you’ve fallen.
Sometimes it’s praying when heaven seems silent.
Sometimes it’s choosing forgiveness when bitterness would be easier.
Sometimes it’s worshiping through tears.
Sometimes it’s simply getting out of bed and trusting God for one more day.
The world often measures victory by comfort, success, or popularity. God measures victory by faithfulness.
I’ve learned that the greatest victories are often invisible to everyone else. They’re found in the quiet moments when you decide that your circumstances will not define your faith. They’re found when you refuse to let suffering steal your hope. They’re found when you continue to believe God’s promises even when you can’t yet see their fulfillment.
Every scar tells a story.
Every trial has taught a lesson.
Every valley has revealed another side of God’s faithfulness.
Looking back, I can see that the battles I wanted to avoid became the places where God shaped my character the most. He didn’t waste the pain. He used it to produce perseverance, deepen my faith, and remind me that His grace truly is sufficient.
The enemy wants you to believe that your struggle is your identity.
God says your identity is found in Christ.
The enemy says you’re defeated.
God says you’re more than a conqueror.
The enemy points to your weakness.
God points to His strength made perfect in weakness.
The difference between those two voices determines how we live.
Being an overcomer doesn’t mean we never struggle. It means we never struggle alone.
The same God who walked with Daniel in the lions’ den, stood with Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego in the fiery furnace, strengthened Paul in prison, and raised Jesus from the dead is still at work today. His power has not diminished. His promises have not expired. His love has not failed.
So whatever battle you’re facing today, remember this:
You were not created to be defined by your diagnosis.
You were not created to be imprisoned by your past.
You were not created to live in fear.
You were not created to surrender to despair.
You were created to glorify God by trusting Him through every season.
You were created to overcome.
One day, every battle will end. Every tear will be wiped away. Every broken thing will be made new. Until that day, we keep walking, keep believing, keep praying, and keep pointing others to the One who has already won the ultimate victory.
When life asks who you are, don’t answer with your failures or your fears.
Answer with confidence:
I am a child of God. I belong to Jesus Christ. And by His grace, I was created to overcome. ~OC
There is a temptation that has followed the Church since its earliest days.
It is the temptation to believe that changing the world requires political power more than spiritual power.
It whispers that if we can simply gain enough influence, enough seats at the table, enough cultural dominance, then God’s Kingdom will flourish.
But Jesus never asked His followers to seek power.
He asked them to pick up a cross.
Those are two very different paths.
Jesus entered Jerusalem not on a warhorse, but on a donkey.
He wore no crown of gold.
He commanded no army.
He never sought political office.
Instead, He humbled Himself, served the least, loved His enemies, and willingly laid down His life.
When Peter drew his sword to defend Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus rebuked him.
“Put your sword back in its place.”
The Kingdom of God would not be established by force.
It would be established by sacrificial love.
The Cross—not the sword—would become Christianity’s greatest symbol.
Jesus made His mission unmistakably clear before Pilate:
“My kingdom is not of this world.” (John 18:36)
That statement should forever shape how Christians think about politics.
Earthly governments rise and fall.
Political parties are born and disappear.
Empires come and go.
But the Kingdom of God endures forever.
When the Church forgets that truth, it begins to measure success by elections won instead of lives transformed.
Influence is not inherently sinful.
Joseph served Pharaoh.
Daniel served Babylon.
Esther influenced a king.
There are faithful believers throughout Scripture who served within governments.
The danger comes when the Church begins depending on political influence instead of the Holy Spirit.
History has shown that whenever the Church becomes too comfortable with worldly power, it often sacrifices its prophetic voice.
Instead of speaking truth to those in authority, it begins protecting them.
Instead of confronting sin wherever it is found, it excuses it when doing so preserves influence.
The prophets of Scripture never operated that way.
Neither did Jesus.
Political division has convinced many Christians that those who disagree with us are enemies instead of neighbors.
But Jesus told us to love our neighbors.
Even more challenging, He told us to love our enemies.
The Cross leaves no room for hatred.
No room for contempt.
No room for celebrating the downfall of those made in God’s image.
If our politics make it difficult to love people, then our politics have become a spiritual problem.
Too often, the Church has adopted the world’s methods while expecting God’s results.
We have traded humility for outrage.
Grace for suspicion.
Peacemaking for culture wars.
Faithfulness for influence.
The Church was never called to reflect the values of the surrounding culture.
We were called to reflect Christ.
That means telling the truth with courage.
Showing mercy without compromise.
Standing for justice without hatred.
Loving people without demanding that they first become like us.
The first Christians possessed almost no political influence.
They had no voting bloc.
No media platform.
No lobbying organization.
No cultural dominance.
Yet within a few centuries, the Gospel had spread throughout the Roman Empire.
Why?
Because believers loved radically.
They cared for plague victims whom others abandoned.
They rescued unwanted children.
They fed the poor.
They welcomed strangers.
They forgave those who persecuted them.
They lived lives that could not be explained apart from Christ.
Their greatest strength was not political power.
It was Christlike love.
Perhaps the greatest need in today’s Church is not another political strategy.
It is repentance.
Repentance for the times we have defended power more passionately than truth.
Repentance for placing party loyalty above Kingdom loyalty.
Repentance for allowing fear to shape us more than faith.
Repentance for forgetting that our Savior conquered through sacrifice, not domination.
The Church is at its best when it remembers that the Cross always comes before the crown.
Every generation must decide what kind of Church it will become.
One that seeks influence at any cost.
Or one that faithfully follows Jesus, even when it costs everything.
History remembers powerful kingdoms that have long since disappeared.
But it also remembers ordinary believers whose quiet faithfulness changed lives for eternity.
May we never trade the Cross for political power.
May we never confuse national success with spiritual revival.
May we never allow our allegiance to an earthly kingdom to overshadow our devotion to the King of Kings.
The hope of the world has never been found in Washington, Rome, London, or any other seat of earthly power.
The hope of the world has always been, and always will be, Jesus Christ.
May His Church once again become known not for the power it seeks, but for the Savior it follows. ~OC
The Blessed Overcomer 