Microwave Waiting

Today’s a new day! 

Waiting is one of the hardest parts of the Christian life. We pray. We cry out to God. We ask for direction, healing, provision, or restoration, and deep down we often expect an immediate answer. We live in a world of instant downloads, fast food, overnight shipping, and microwave solutions, so naturally we sometimes expect our prayers to work the same way.

We pray about a job and hope the phone rings tomorrow. 

We pray about a relationship and expect immediate reconciliation.


We pray about a health issue and long for instant healing.

And sometimes God does answer quickly. Sometimes doors swing wide open almost immediately. Sometimes healing comes fast, provision appears unexpectedly, and breakthrough arrives sooner than we imagined. Those moments remind us that God is powerful, loving, and fully able to move in an instant.

But other times… God’s timing feels like forever.

There are seasons when heaven seems quiet. Seasons where the prayer has been repeated hundreds of times. Seasons where tears have become part of the daily routine. In those moments, it can be tempting to believe God has forgotten us, ignored us, or moved on from our situation.

But the silence of God does not mean the absence of God.

Often, the waiting season is where God does some of His deepest work in us. While we are focused on the answer, God is focused on our heart. While we are praying for a destination, God is shaping our character during the journey.

Waiting teaches us trust.

Anyone can praise God when the answer comes quickly. But faith grows stronger when we continue trusting Him before we see the outcome. Waiting teaches perseverance. It teaches surrender. It teaches us to seek God not only for what He can give us, but simply for who He is.

Sometimes God delays the answer because He is protecting us. Sometimes He is preparing us. Sometimes He is arranging circumstances we cannot yet see. And sometimes He wants us to learn to hear His voice more clearly in the quiet place of dependence.

The Bible is filled with people who had to wait.

The Book of Psalms is full of cries from David asking, “How long, O Lord?” Abraham waited years for God’s promise. Joseph waited through betrayal and prison before stepping into purpose. Even the disciples had to wait after the resurrection before the Holy Spirit came at Pentecost.

The waiting was never wasted.

Neither is yours.

If you are praying today for a job, a relationship, healing, direction, or peace, do not give up because the answer has not arrived yet. Keep pressing in. Keep praying. Keep opening God’s Word. Keep worshiping when it is hard. Keep listening for His voice.

Sometimes God speaks through open doors.
Sometimes He speaks through closed doors.
And sometimes He speaks through the waiting itself.

Do not let delay destroy your faith. God is still working even when you cannot yet see the evidence. A seed underground looks invisible before it becomes a harvest.

God’s timing is not microwave timing. It is holy timing.

And when the answer finally comes, you may discover that the greatest miracle was not simply what God did for you, but what He did inside of you while you waited. ~OC

The Empty Road

Today’s a new day! Over the last few months, I have written a collection of short stories entitled “Miles That Still Matter.” I thought I would share one with you today. ~OC

Every morning at 5:00 a.m., Ed still woke up before sunrise.

For twenty years, he had laced up his running shoes before the world stirred awake. Marathons had shaped his life. He knew the quiet roads, the rhythm of breath, the ache in his legs at mile twenty-two, and the victory of crossing finish lines.

But now the shoes sat untouched beside the door.

A neurological condition had changed everything.

“Maybe tomorrow,” he whispered every morning, though he knew tomorrow would not come.

One chilly Florida morning, Ed sat on his porch with a cup of coffee, listening to a Carolina Wren sing from the oak tree nearby. His neighbor, Marcus, walked by slowly with his dog.

“Haven’t seen you running lately,” Marcus said carefully.

Ed forced a smile. “Doctors say those days are over.”

Marcus nodded awkwardly. “That’s rough.”

For a long moment, neither man spoke.

Then Ed quietly said, “You know what marathon running taught me?”

“What’s that?”

“That life isn’t won in the fast miles. It’s won in the hard ones.”

Marcus looked at him curiously.

Ed continued, “Anybody can run downhill with fresh legs. But when your body screams to quit and you keep going anyway—that’s where character shows up.”

Marcus stared at the ground.

“My wife left last month,” he admitted. “I honestly don’t know how to keep going.”

Ed leaned back in his chair.

“In a marathon,” he said, “you never focus on all twenty-six miles. You just look for the next step. Jesus works that way too. He doesn’t always give us the whole roadmap. Sometimes He just says, ‘Walk with Me to the next mile marker.’”

Marcus wiped his eyes.

That morning, Ed realized something.

He could no longer run races.

But he could still help weary people finish theirs.

Not In The Storm

Today’s a new day!

There comes a moment in life when you realize the journey is not about pretending to be strong every second of every day. It is about learning how to walk honestly with God through both the beautiful moments and the painful ones. As I continue walking this crazy beautiful health journey, I am jumping into the deep end of life.  I am choosing to live fully, love deeply, and embrace every moment God places in front of me. I am taking trips with my bride, cherishing the laughter, the quiet moments, and the memories we are building together. I am having deep and meaningful conversations about real life, real struggles, real faith, and real hope. No sugar coating. No masks. Just honesty wrapped in grace.

Some days are incredibly good. Some days feel light, hopeful, and full of strength. Then there are days that are really tough. Days where the storm feels loud and exhausting. But through every high and every low, I refuse to let the storm become my identity. My diagnosis is not my identity. My struggles are not my identity. My difficult moments are not my identity. My identity is found completely in Christ, and that is the only identity that truly matters.

The world often tries to define people by what they are going through.   God defines us by who we belong to. We belong to Him. We are loved by Him. We are redeemed by Him. We are sustained by Him. Storms may shape parts of our story, but they do not get to name us. Jesus does.

What this journey has taught me more than anything is this: life is too precious to spend buried under fear, hesitation, or regret. Too many people are waiting for “someday” to start living. Someday they will take the dream trip. Someday they will say “I love you.” Someday they will forgive. Someday they will have the hard but healing conversation. Someday they will step out in faith and pursue what God placed in their heart. But someday is never promised.

So my encouragement to everyone reading this is simple: live life to the fullest. Trust God enough to truly live. Take the trip. Make the phone call. Sit down and have the real conversation. Laugh loudly. Love deeply. Pray boldly. Stop allowing fear to keep you trapped in a life of “I wish I would have.” The storm may still rage around you, but there is a way to live beyond the storm.

Living beyond the storm does not mean pretending the storm is not real. It means refusing to let the storm steal your joy, your purpose, your faith, or your ability to truly live. It means understanding that even in the middle of pain, God is still writing beautiful chapters. It means choosing to see every breath as a gift and every day as an opportunity to love God and love people well.

At the end of our lives, most people will not regret loving too much, believing too much, or trusting God too deeply. They will regret the moments fear kept them from fully living. So live courageously. Live gratefully. Live authentically. And no matter what storm comes your way, never forget who you are.

Your identity is not in the storm.

Your identity is in Christ. ~OC

Bruised Not Defeated

Today’s a new day!

There were moments when the storms of life tried to break you. The winds of hardship blew against your heart, the rain of disappointment poured endlessly, and the waves of exhaustion threatened to pull you under. People mocked your faith, questioned your devotion to Jesus, and treated your love for God like it was foolishness. Some walked away from you because of your obedience to Christ. Others misunderstood your journey entirely. Yet through every tear, every sleepless night, every spiritual battle, and every lonely season, God kept you standing. You may be bruised, but you are not broken. You may have scars, but those scars testify that the Lord has carried you through battles that should have destroyed you.

The enemy thought the warfare would silence your praise, but instead it deepened your worship. Every attack became another reason to lean closer to Jesus. Every trial became another testimony of His faithfulness. You kept praying when your heart was tired. You kept serving when nobody noticed. You kept praising the King of kings even when life made no sense. That is not weakness — that is spiritual endurance forged in the fire of God’s presence. The world may see an ordinary believer, but heaven sees a warrior who refused to quit.

Nothing can defeat a child of God who keeps their eyes fixed on Jesus. The storms may rage, but they cannot overthrow the foundation built on Christ. Spiritual warfare may intensify, but the power of God is greater than every attack of darkness. The same Savior who conquered death lives inside of you. Because of Him, you are not fighting for victory — you are fighting from victory. The cross already settled the outcome. The tomb is still empty, the Holy Spirit is still moving, and the King still reigns.

So stand tall in your faith. Keep lifting holy hands in worship. Keep speaking the name of Jesus with boldness. Your survival is proof of God’s sustaining grace. Your praise in the middle of pain is a weapon the enemy cannot understand. 

Through every battle, every heartbreak, and every storm, one truth remains unshaken: you are still standing, still serving, still praising, and still held securely in the hands of the King of kings. ~OC

The Limp of Faith, The Swagger of Grace

Today’s a new day!

When we truly surrender to Jesus, we often imagine peace, clarity, and a smoother path ahead—and in many ways, that’s true. But surrender also places us on a road that runs against the grain of the world. To live out His teachings, to walk in truth, grace, and conviction, is to stand in contrast to a culture that often resists both. Jesus never hid this reality. He made it clear that following Him would come with a cost—misunderstanding, rejection, and even ridicule. And yet, that cost is not a sign that something has gone wrong; it’s often evidence that something has gone right.

There will be moments when obedience feels lonely, when doing the right thing makes you the target instead of the example. People may question your choices, mock your faith, or walk away because your life reflects something they don’t understand or don’t want to confront. In those moments, it’s tempting to shrink back, to soften the message, or to blend in just enough to avoid the discomfort. But surrender isn’t partial—it’s whole. And walking with Jesus means continuing forward, even when the path is steep and the crowd thins out.

So if you find yourself walking through seasons of resistance, don’t stop walking. Even if you walk with a limp—wounded by words, weary from the journey, or burdened by the weight of it all—keep moving. God has never required perfection; He honors perseverance. A limp doesn’t disqualify you, it testifies that you’ve been in the fight and you’re still standing. Your faith is not proven in comfort, but in your willingness to keep going when it would be easier to quit.

And as you walk, walk with a spiritual swagger—not arrogance, but confidence rooted in who you belong to. There’s a quiet boldness that comes from knowing your identity is secure in Christ. It’s the kind of confidence that doesn’t need validation from the world because it’s anchored in eternal truth. You don’t have to shout to be strong. Sometimes the strongest statement you can make is simply refusing to turn back.

So walk on. Walk through the criticism, through the doubt, through the isolation if it comes. Walk with humility, but also with authority. Walk with grace, but also with conviction. And whether your steps are steady or uneven, take them knowing that Jesus walks with you—every step, every stumble, every victory. ~OC

Letter III: To The Church In A Time Of Testing

Beloved Faith Family,

There was a time when the church stood as a moral compass in turbulent waters, offering clarity in moments of confusion and conviction in times of compromise.

Today, I fear that witness has been clouded.

In many places, the church has aligned itself so closely with political identity that it has become difficult to distinguish where faith ends and ideology begins. When this happens, the message of love is overshadowed by the pursuit of influence, and the call to humility is replaced with the desire for control.

Faith was never meant to be a tool of division.

If the church is to be a light in this present darkness, it must return to its first calling: to love without condition, to serve without recognition, and to speak truth without fear or favoritism. 

It must be willing to challenge injustice—even when it is inconvenient, even when it costs something.

For what does it profit a faith community to gain political power, yet lose its soul?

With steadfast hope,

A Servant of the Dream Yet to Be Fully Realized ~OC

Living A Life Of Significance

Today’s a new day! 

In a world that often measures success by status, wealth, and recognition, it’s easy to lose sight of what truly matters. We are constantly told to chase influence, build a platform, and make a name for ourselves. But as followers of Christ, we are called to a different standard—one that isn’t rooted in temporary applause, but in eternal impact. A life of significance is not about being seen by the world; it’s about being faithful to God.

Jesus never called us to be famous—He called us to be faithful. In the quiet moments, in the unseen acts of kindness, in the prayers whispered when no one else is around, God is working something far greater than we can imagine. The world may overlook these things, but heaven celebrates them. When we choose to love the unlovable, serve without recognition, and forgive when it’s hard, we are living a life that carries eternal weight.

Significance in God’s kingdom often looks like humility.  Jesus Himself demonstrated this by washing His disciples’ feet, showing us that greatness comes through serving others. When we shift our focus from “What can I gain?” to “Who can I serve?” everything changes. Our lives begin to reflect the heart of Christ, and our impact reaches far beyond what we can see.

Living a life of significance also means walking in obedience. It’s trusting God even when the path is unclear, saying “yes” when it’s uncomfortable, and stepping out in faith when it feels risky.  God doesn’t require perfection—He desires surrender. When we give Him our lives fully, He takes our ordinary moments and turns them into something extraordinary.

It’s important to remember that significance is not always immediate. Seeds planted today may not bear fruit until years later. A kind word, a simple prayer, or an act of generosity can echo through someone’s life in ways you may never know. But God sees it all. Nothing done in love is ever wasted.

At the end of our lives, what will matter most is not how much we accumulated, but how deeply we loved and how faithfully we followed Christ. A life of significance is built on surrender, service, and steadfast faith. It’s a life that points others to Jesus, not ourselves.

So choose today to live differently. Love boldly. Serve faithfully. Walk humbly. And trust that as you do, God is writing a story through your life that is far more significant than anything this world could offer. ~OC

Stay Rooted

Today’s a new day!

Be careful who you listen to and trust—this simple truth carries deep spiritual weight. In a world full of voices, opinions, and influences, not everything that looks good is good for you. Just as salt and sugar can appear nearly identical at a glance, what we hear can sound sweet, wise, or convincing while actually leading us away from truth. The Bible reminds us to test every spirit and to seek discernment, because deception rarely announces itself boldly—it often comes dressed in familiarity and comfort. If we are not grounded in God’s Word, we can easily mistake something harmful for something helpful.

Trust is a precious gift, and it should not be given lightly. As believers, we are called to anchor our trust in God first, allowing His truth to shape how we evaluate everything else. When we rely solely on human wisdom without seeking divine guidance, we risk being misled. Just as consuming salt when expecting sugar would leave a bitter taste, following the wrong voices can leave us spiritually drained and confused. Stay rooted in prayer, immerse yourself in Scripture, and ask God for wisdom to discern what is truly good. Not everything that looks right is right—but God’s truth will never lead you astray. ~OC

Through The Eyes Of A Thief

The sky darkens in a way I’ve never seen before, though I’ve spent my life in the shadows. I hang here, condemned, my body wracked with pain, my past heavier than the crossbeam upon my shoulders. I deserve this, I know it. Every selfish choice, every hardened moment has led me to this hill. Beside me, another man curses, demanding rescue, demanding proof. But I have no demands left—only the bitter clarity that comes when there is nothing left to lose. And then I look at Him.

There is something different about the man in the middle. He does not spit back insults. He does not fight for breath with rage, but with mercy. I hear Him pray—not for Himself, but for those who have nailed Him here. “Father, forgive them.” Forgive them? In that moment, the weight of my own guilt presses deeper, yet strangely, hope flickers where despair once lived. If He can ask forgiveness for them, could there be mercy even for me?

With what strength I have left, I speak—not to mock, but to confess. I deserve this. He does not. And then, with a trembling voice, I ask the unthinkable: “Remember me.” Not save me from this cross, not erase my past—but remember me. It is a small plea from a broken man. Yet His reply is immediate, certain, and filled with a grace I have never known: “Today, you will be with me in paradise.” In the shadow of death, I find life. On a cross meant for punishment, I receive a promise.

As the darkness deepens, fear loosens its grip. My circumstances have not changed, but everything else has. The man beside me is not just another condemned soul—He is a King whose kingdom begins where mine ends. And somehow, by His mercy, I am invited in. This is Good Friday through my eyes: not the end of a life, but the beginning of eternity. ~OC

Purpose Equals Peace

Today’s a new day! 

For more than two decades, I have walked a road marked by uncertainty, pain, and countless moments where I was told my life might soon end. After hearing over fifty times that I had only hours, weeks, or months to live, I stopped counting. Not out of denial, but out of a quiet realization—life was never meant to be lived under the constant shadow of “what if today is the last day?” Instead, I chose to seek something deeper. In the midst of my storm, I prayed and asked Jesus to show me my purpose within the pain. And He answered.

What I discovered changed everything. My hospital rooms became mission fields. Waiting rooms turned into places of ministry. Conversations with doctors, nurses, and fellow patients became opportunities to encourage, uplift, and share hope. God didn’t remove my storm, but He gave it meaning. Over the years, He has allowed me to walk alongside others in their darkest moments—offering support, listening ears, and reminders that they are not alone. It has been one of the greatest privileges of my life to be used in this way. And in that purpose, I found something unexpected: peace. A deep, unshakable peace that doesn’t depend on circumstances.

Time and time again, I’ve heard others share a similar testimony. When they begin to understand that God has a purpose even in their suffering, something shifts. The fear loosens its grip. The questions quiet. And peace begins to take root. It doesn’t mean the storm disappears—but it does mean the storm no longer defines them. So today, I want to gently challenge you: what is God revealing to you in your current season? Are you leaning in to listen, or are you overwhelmed by the noise of the storm? Have you allowed your struggle to become your identity, or are you willing to surrender it?

Take a moment today to lay your burdens at the foot of the Cross. In fact, don’t just lay them down—leave them there. Nail your fears, your pain, your questions, and your weariness to the Cross and trust that Jesus will carry what you cannot. I can’t promise that your season of hardship will end quickly, or even in the way you hope. But I can promise this: when you seek God’s purpose in the storm, you will find His peace. Even now, as I continue walking through ongoing health challenges, I do so with hope and a calm assurance that God is not finished.

So the question remains—are you willing to take that first step today? To trust, to seek, and to walk forward in the purpose God has prepared for you? Peace and victory are not found in the absence of storms, but in the presence of Jesus within them. ~OC

You can check out the Spoken Word version at my YouTube channel Todd E. Shoemaker Music.

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