Tag: Strength

What Running Taught Me About The Gospel Of Jesus Christ

Today’s a new day! Back in 2003, while having a cancerous golf ball sized tumor removed from my chest, I had a vision that God wanted me to start running marathons and sharing the Gospel. No, it wasn’t the medications talking. Four months after having my chest cracked open, I laced up my running shoes and began a journey that was about much more than physical exercise. What started out as a God given vision eventually became a living illustration of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. With every mile, every struggle, and every victory, God showed me truths that I had read in Scripture but had never fully experienced until I began running.

The Journey Begins With A Single Step:

No one wakes up one morning and suddenly runs a marathon. Every runner begins with a single step. The same is true in our walk with Christ. Salvation begins when we take that first step of faith and trust Jesus as our Savior.

Many people look at mature believers and assume they have always been strong in their faith. The reality is that every Christian starts at the same place—at the foot of the cross, completely dependent on God’s grace.

Running reminded me that God is not asking us to be perfect overnight. He simply asks us to take the next faithful step.

Endurance Is Built Through Difficulty:

Every runner knows that growth comes through discomfort. There are days when your legs are tired, your lungs are burning, and everything inside you wants to quit. Yet those difficult miles are often the ones that make you stronger.

The Christian life is no different.

Trials, hardships, disappointments, and seasons of suffering are not signs that God has abandoned us. Often they are the very tools He uses to strengthen our faith. Just as endurance is developed on the running trail, spiritual endurance is developed through life’s challenges.

The Gospel does not promise an easy road. It promises that Jesus will walk with us every step of the way.

You Can’t Finish Looking Behind You:

One lesson running taught me quickly is that constantly looking over your shoulder will slow you down.

Spiritually, many believers struggle because they spend their lives staring at past failures, past mistakes, and past regrets. The enemy loves to remind us of who we used to be.

But the Gospel reminds us of who we are in Christ.

Jesus paid for our sins on the cross. Through His grace, we are forgiven, redeemed, and made new. We honor God not by living in guilt but by moving forward in faith.

Runners finish races by focusing on what lies ahead. Christians grow by keeping their eyes fixed on Jesus.

The Race Is Not Against Other People:

One of the biggest mistakes runners make is comparing themselves to everyone else. Someone will always be faster. Someone will always have a better finish time.

The Christian life is not a competition.

God has given each of us a unique calling, a unique testimony, and a unique race to run. The goal is not to be better than someone else. The goal is to be faithful to what God has called us to do.

Comparison steals joy, but gratitude fuels perseverance.

Sometimes You Have to Keep Going Even When You Don’t Feel Like It

Not every run feels amazing. Some days motivation is nowhere to be found. Yet discipline carries you when feelings disappear.

Faith works much the same way.

There are days when we feel close to God and days when we do not. There are seasons when prayer feels effortless and seasons when it feels difficult. There are moments when worship flows naturally and moments when we worship by faith.

The Gospel teaches us that our relationship with God is not based on feelings but on the finished work of Jesus Christ.

We keep praying.
We keep believing.
We keep trusting.
We keep moving forward.

Every Finish Line Points to Something Greater:

Crossing a finish line brings a sense of accomplishment, but every race eventually ends. Another race always waits ahead.

Running taught me that earthly victories are temporary, but the promises of God are eternal.

The greatest finish line is not found at the end of a race course. It is found when we stand before Jesus and hear the words, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

The Gospel reminds us that this world is not our final destination. We are running toward eternity with Christ.

Final Thoughts:

Running has taught me countless lessons about perseverance, discipline, and determination. Yet the greatest lesson it has taught me is this: the Christian life is not about running perfectly; it is about staying faithful to the One who called us.

When we stumble, Jesus lifts us up.

When we grow weary, Jesus gives us strength.

When we feel like quitting, Jesus reminds us of the hope set before us.

So keep running your race.

Keep walking by faith.

Keep trusting Jesus.

The miles may be long, the hills may be steep, and the journey may be difficult, but the Gospel assures us that we never run alone. Christ is with us every step of the way, and because of Him, the victory is already secured.

I hope this encourages both runners and non-runners to see how everyday experiences can point us back to the life-changing Gospel of Jesus Christ. ~OC

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Seasons

Today’s a new day! Yes, I am still on a break from sharing daily post, but sometimes God puts something on your heart that you feel compelled to share. This is one of those moments. The following is a collection of thoughts God has shared with me the last few days. I pray it speaks to your spirit.

There are seasons in life when the presence of God feels especially near. Seasons where you can see His hand moving in ways that are undeniable. Moments where prayers seem deeper, peace feels stronger, and hope begins to rise again. I believe I am walking through one of those seasons right now.

In this season, I can feel and sense God doing a mighty work in my body, bringing healing, strength, and renewal. I can see Him moving within my marriage, drawing us closer together and reminding us that His love is the foundation we stand upon. I also see Him working in the lives of our family and friends, opening doors, restoring hearts, and surrounding people with His grace and mercy.

Sometimes God moves quietly, like a whisper in the night. Other times, His presence feels overwhelming, powerful, and impossible to ignore. This season feels like one of those moments where Heaven is touching Earth in a fresh way. It is a reminder that God never stops working, even when we cannot always see it immediately.

Because of this, I want to encourage everyone reading this to lean into God a little closer. Spend time with Him in prayer. Open His Word. Worship even in the middle of uncertainty. Trust that where He has you planted right now is not an accident. There is purpose in this season, even if you do not fully understand it yet.

God knows exactly where you are. He knows the battles you are facing, the prayers you are praying, and the dreams hidden within your heart. And just as He is moving in my life, I believe He desires to move in yours as well.

So embrace the season you are in. Stay rooted in faith. Keep your eyes fixed on Jesus. The same God who brought healing, miracles, and revival throughout Scripture is still moving today. And I truly believe we are living in a time where His presence is drawing people closer to Him once again.~ OC

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Until Then…

Today’s a new day! 

There are moments in life when God does not call us to speak louder, work harder, or create more. Instead, He calls us into stillness. Into quiet places where our hearts can rest, heal, listen, and be renewed in His presence.

I believe God is leading me into one of those seasons now.

As Laura and I step into this new adventure and begin this new chapter of our lives, I feel the Lord calling me into a season of silence and reflection. Because of that, I will not be sharing any new blog posts, spoken words, or music for a time. This is not a goodbye, but rather a pause — a sacred moment to step away from the noise and spend intentional time in prayer, rest, and seeking the heart of God.

Throughout Scripture, we see God drawing His people away before leading them forward. Moses spent time in the wilderness. Elijah heard God in the gentle whisper. Jesus Himself often withdrew to lonely places to pray. There is something holy about stepping back long enough to hear God clearly again.

Ecclesiastes reminds us that there is “a time to be silent and a time to speak.” Right now, I believe this is my time to be silent.

Silence can feel uncomfortable in a world that constantly demands content, opinions, and activity. Yet sometimes the greatest spiritual growth happens away from the spotlight, in hidden places where only God sees. It is in those quiet moments that He reshapes our hearts, renews our strength, and reminds us who we are apart from what we produce.

I do not know everything God has in store on the other side of this season, but I am excited to discover it. I trust that His plans are good, even when the path ahead is uncertain. This move, this transition, and this pause all feel covered in His peace.

To everyone who has read my writings, listened to my music, encouraged me, prayed for me, or walked alongside me on this journey — thank you. Your kindness and support have meant more than words can express.

As I step away for this season, my prayer for each of you is simple:

May the peace of God guard your hearts and minds.
May His blessings overflow in your homes and families.
May you hear His voice clearly in every season.
And may you never forget that even in silence, God is still moving.

I look forward to seeing what the Lord will do next.

Until then, grace and peace to each of you. ~OC

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A Look Into 26.2

Today’s a new day!

There’s something powerful about the number 26.2.

For runners, it represents the full distance of a marathon — a journey that stretches the body, tests the mind, and reveals what’s truly inside a person. Nobody accidentally finishes 26.2 miles. It takes endurance, perseverance, discipline, and the willingness to keep moving even when every step feels heavy.

In many ways, the Christian life feels a lot like a marathon.

There are moments when faith feels effortless — when the sun is shining, prayers are being answered, and God’s blessings seem to overflow at every turn. But there are also difficult miles. The lonely miles. The exhausting miles. The stretches where you wonder if you can keep going.

Yet through every mile of life, God offers something the world cannot give: His peace.

Jesus said in The Gospel of John 14:27, “Peace I leave with you; My peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives.”

That kind of peace is not dependent on circumstances. It is not tied to comfort, finances, success, or ease. God’s peace shows up in the middle of the race — when your legs are weak, your heart is tired, and you feel like stopping.

Anyone who has ever run a marathon knows there is usually a moment called “hitting the wall.” It’s the point where exhaustion crashes into you physically and mentally. Suddenly the finish line feels impossibly far away. For me, the wall always came at mile nineteen. I had to dig deep to keep moving forward.

Life has walls too.

Maybe it’s grief.
Maybe it’s uncertainty.
Maybe it’s a season of waiting.
Maybe it’s prayers that seem unanswered.
Maybe it’s carrying burdens nobody else sees.

But God specializes in strengthening weary runners.

The Book of Isaiah reminds us:

“Those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary.”

Notice that Scripture does not say believers will never get tired. It says God renews us in the middle of the race.

That is one of the greatest blessings of following Jesus — we were never meant to run alone.

At mile 5 of life, He is with us.
At mile 13, He is with us.
At mile 20, when everything hurts, He is still with us.
And at mile 26.2, when we finally cross the finish line, He is waiting with open arms.

God’s blessings are not always flashy or loud. Sometimes His greatest blessings look like:

  • Peace during chaos
  • Strength during weakness
  • Hope during heartbreak
  • Joy during uncertainty
  • Rest in the middle of exhaustion

Those blessings sustain us for the long run.

A marathon runner learns quickly that the race is not won in a sprint. It is won through consistency — one faithful step at a time. The same is true spiritually. Faith is built daily. Prayer by prayer. Step by step. Moment by moment.

Some days your pace may feel strong.
Other days you may barely move forward.

But if you are still walking with Jesus, you are still in the race.

And here’s the beautiful thing about God’s grace: He is not standing at the finish line condemning exhausted runners. He runs beside us. He strengthens us. He carries us when necessary. His peace becomes the oxygen for weary souls.

The Christian life is not about running perfectly.
It is about running faithfully.

So wherever you are in your “26.2 miles” today, remember this:

God sees every step.
He hears every prayer.
He knows every struggle.
And His peace is available for every mile ahead.

Keep running.
Keep trusting.

Keep your eyes on Jesus.

The finish line will be worth it. ~OC

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Watchman On The Wall

Today’s a new day!

There are moments in life when words spoken over you stay buried deep in your spirit for years. Not because they inflate your ego, but because they carry weight. Responsibility. Sobriety. Reverence before God.

Several years ago, during two different conversations with two different men of God about some of my writings, they both shared something with me that I have never forgotten. They each told me they believed I was a watchman, like the watchmen described in the Book of Ezekiel Chapter 33.

At the time, I did not fully know what to do with those words. Honestly, part of me still wrestles with them. The title itself is not something I ever desired for attention or recognition. If anything, it humbled me and drove me into deeper prayer. But since those two separate conversations, I received multiple confirmations from God.

Because when you read Ezekiel 33, being a watchman is not about status. It is not about building a platform, gaining followers, or becoming spiritually important. It is about accountability before God.

The watchman in Ezekiel was called to stand alert, to discern danger, and to faithfully speak what God was saying whether people wanted to hear it or not. The responsibility was not to control outcomes, but to remain faithful in delivering the warning, the truth, and the call to repentance.

That is a sobering assignment.

As I have replayed those two specific conversations, I have become more humbled and do not take them lightly.

In a generation where compromise is often celebrated and truth is sometimes watered down to avoid discomfort, I believe the Church desperately needs voices that will speak with both conviction and compassion. Not voices fueled by anger, pride, or political obsession, but voices broken before God. Voices willing to grieve over sin rather than weaponize it. Voices willing to speak the whole counsel of God, even when it costs something.

A true watchman does not stand above the people. He stands among them, fully aware of his own need for mercy and grace.

That is where I find myself.

I do not claim perfection. I do not claim to have every answer. I am still learning, still growing, still being refined by the Holy Spirit daily. But one thing I know is this: I want to honor Jesus with whatever calling He has placed on my life.

As I have received more confirmation about this calling, I pray daily that God gives me the courage to remain faithful in this assignment.

Faithful when it is unpopular.
Faithful when culture shifts.
Faithful when the Church grows distracted.
Faithful when speaking truth costs comfort.
Faithful to warn.
Faithful to encourage.
Faithful to point people back to Christ.

Because the heart of a watchman is not condemnation. It is love.

A watchman warns because they care.
A watchman speaks because eternity matters.
A watchman refuses to stay silent because souls matter to God.

More than ever, I believe we are living in critical times. The Church must awaken from complacency. We cannot afford to drift spiritually asleep while darkness grows louder around us. Yet even in the middle of shaking, confusion, and moral compromise, I still have hope. Jesus is still building His Church. The Holy Spirit is still moving. Revival is still possible.

And so I continue to write.
I continue to pray.
I continue to seek the heart of God.

Not to build my own name, but to faithfully steward whatever assignment Heaven has entrusted to me.

If God truly has called me to stand as a watchman in this hour, then my prayer is simple:

“Lord, keep my heart pure, my spirit humble, and my voice faithful to You until the very end.”

I continue to pray for each and every one of you, as you walk through this day. May your day be filled with God’s peace, wisdom and healing. Blessings. ~OC

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I Cried Out

There are moments in the life of a believer when words fail, when sermons feel too small, and when the only honest response left is tears. Recently, I found myself bowed low on my knees before God, overwhelmed by a grief so deep it felt impossible to fully explain. It was not grief over politics, culture, or the chaos of the world alone. It was grief over the condition of the global Church, especially here in America.

As I prayed, tears streamed down my face. Not tears of hopelessness, but tears of burden. Tears born from the realization that we are living in a critical hour, yet so many believers seem spiritually asleep.

The Church in America has more platforms, more buildings, more resources, and more influence than many generations before us ever dreamed of. Yet somehow, in the middle of abundance, we have often lost our hunger for the presence of God. We have mastered performance while neglecting prayer. We have learned how to build crowds while forgetting how to carry the cross. We have polished the image of Christianity while starving for genuine holiness.

And still, God is calling.

Even now, Heaven is extending mercy.

Even now, the Spirit of God is crying out to awaken His people.

I believe we are standing at a crossroads. One path leads toward comfort, compromise, and spiritual numbness. The other leads toward repentance, purification, surrender, and revival. The frightening reality is that many do not realize the urgency of the moment we are living in. Time is moving quickly. Eternity is drawing near. The hour is late.

The world does not need another watered-down gospel designed to entertain people while leaving them unchanged. The world needs a Church burning with holiness, truth, compassion, humility, and power. It needs believers who are not ashamed of Jesus. It needs disciples willing to pray when nobody is watching, obey when it is unpopular, and love when it costs something.

God is not looking for perfect people. He is looking for surrendered people.

Throughout Scripture, awakening always began the same way: with brokenness. Before revival came repentance. Before restoration came humility. Before God moved publicly, His people first wept privately.

Perhaps that is why the burden feels so heavy right now.

Because deep down, many believers sense that we cannot continue playing games with God. We cannot keep treating the holy things of Heaven casually. We cannot keep building our own kingdoms while neglecting His. We cannot keep blending in with a dying world while claiming to carry the light of Christ.

Jesus did not call us to cultural Christianity. He called us to die to ourselves and follow Him fully.

This is the hour for the Church to return to prayer.

Return to holiness.

Return to the Word of God.

Return to compassion.

Return to reverence.

Return to the secret place.

Return to our first love.

I believe God is shaking everything that can be shaken, not to destroy His people, but to awaken them. Some trust in personalities, platforms, politics, or programs, but none of those things can save us. Our hope has never been in human strength. Our hope is and always will be Jesus Christ.

The answer for America is not found in louder opinions. The answer is repentance and revival. 

The answer is the Church becoming the Church again.

So today, I continue to pray through tears:

“Lord, awaken us again. Purify Your Bride. Burn away every distraction, every idol, every compromise, and every counterfeit thing living inside of us. Teach us to fear You again. Teach us to love what You love. Refocus our hearts on eternity. Let revival begin in us first.”

May we not waste this hour.

May we not sleep through this moment.

May we not stand before God one day realizing we were too distracted by temporary things to pursue what mattered most.

Time is running out.

But the mercy of God is still calling His people home. ~OC

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Christianity…The Uncut Version

The Christian walk is often presented with polished smiles, perfect church clothes, and carefully edited testimonies. But the real journey with Jesus is not always neat, clean, or easy. It is gritty. It is costly. It is beautiful and painful at the same time. The real uncut version of following Christ is not a stage performance—it is surrender.

The Christian Walk Is Not a Highlight Reel

Somewhere along the way, many believers were taught that following Jesus would automatically make life easier. That if you prayed enough, served enough, or had enough faith, the storms would stop coming.

But Scripture never promised a painless life.

Jesus Himself said in The Bible, “In this world you will have trouble.” Not maybe. Not sometimes. You will.

The real Christian walk looks like praising God while fighting anxiety.
It looks like worshipping through chronic pain.
It looks like praying when heaven feels silent.
It looks like showing up to church with tears hidden behind your smile.
It looks like trusting God while your life feels like it is falling apart.

Faith is not pretending everything is okay.
Faith is clinging to Jesus when everything is not okay.

Real Christians Still Struggle

The sanitized version of Christianity often makes believers feel ashamed for struggling. But the heroes of faith in Scripture were deeply human.

David battled fear and depression.
Elijah became so overwhelmed he wanted to die.
Peter denied Jesus.
Thomas doubted.
Paul spoke openly about weakness and suffering.

God still used every one of them.

The modern church sometimes celebrates polished personalities more than authentic surrender. But Jesus was never looking for perfect people. He was looking for willing people.

The truth is this:
Some believers are exhausted.
Some are grieving.
Some are battling addiction.
Some are fighting private temptations.
Some are barely holding on.

And yet, they still whisper, “Jesus, I trust You.”

That is real faith.

Picking Up Your Cross Is Heavy

Jesus never said, “Pick up your crown and follow Me.”
He said, “Pick up your cross.”

Crosses are heavy.

Sometimes following Jesus means losing friendships because your values changed.
Sometimes it means forgiving someone who never apologized.
Sometimes it means standing alone.
Sometimes it means obeying God while everyone around you thinks you are crazy.

The Christian walk is not always comfortable because transformation is painful.

God will lovingly tear down pride.
He will expose idols.
He will confront hidden sin.
He will lead you into wilderness seasons where your only source of strength is Him.

And honestly? Those wilderness seasons are often where the deepest intimacy with God is formed.

Church Hurt Is Real — But So Is Jesus

Many people carry scars from the church.

Some were judged instead of loved.
Some were manipulated.
Some were ignored in their pain.
Some watched leaders fall.
Some walked into church broken and walked out feeling even more condemned.

Church hurt is real.
But Jesus is not the abuse you experienced.
Jesus is not the hypocrisy you witnessed.
Jesus is not the pride of broken people pretending to represent Him perfectly.

The real uncut Christian walk sometimes involves learning how to separate Jesus from flawed human behavior.

And that healing process can take time.

Sanctification Is Messy

Following Jesus is not instant perfection.
It is daily surrender.

Some days you feel spiritually strong.
Other days you feel numb.
Some days you pray for hours.
Other days all you can say is, “God, help me.”

Sanctification is messy because God works through real people with real wounds, real habits, and real struggles.

The Christian life is not about never falling.
It is about continually getting back up and running back to Jesus.

Grace does not excuse sin.
Grace gives us the power to keep fighting.

The World Does Not Need More Performers

The world is tired of celebrity Christianity.
Tired of fake perfection.
Tired of filtered faith.

People are starving for authenticity.

They need believers who are honest about their struggles while still pointing to the faithfulness of God.
They need Christians who love deeply.
Who repent genuinely.
Who serve quietly.
Who stay faithful even when nobody is applauding.

The strongest testimony is often not someone who has a perfect life.
It is someone who walked through hell and still did not let go of Jesus.

Jesus Is Still Worth Following

Even in the pain.
Even in the confusion.
Even in the waiting.
Even in the unanswered prayers.

Jesus is still worthy.

Because the real Christian walk is not built on feelings.
It is built on the truth that Christ remains faithful even when life is hard.

Following Jesus will cost you comfort, pride, and sometimes even relationships.
But it will also give you something the world can never offer:
real hope,
real peace,
real purpose,
and eternal life.

So if your walk with God feels messy right now, you are not alone.

Keep praying.
Keep fighting.
Keep showing up.
Keep trusting.

Not because you are strong,
but because He is.

And sometimes the most powerful words a believer can say are simply:
“Jesus, I’m still here.” ~OC

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The Kingdom

Today’s a new day! I want to share a poem I wrote a few years ago. It’s entitled “The Kingdom.” ~OC

They can empty my pockets,
strip the paint from my name,
close doors in my face
and leave me standing in the cold of rejection.

They can take the title,
the comfort,
the applause of crowds
that fade like smoke in the wind.

They can break my body with sickness,
bury my dreams beneath ashes,
and tell me I am forgotten.

But there is one thing
this world will never touch.

It cannot steal the crown
prepared by nail-scarred hands.
It cannot silence the promise
spoken by the risen King.
It cannot chain eternity,
cannot lock Heaven’s gates,
cannot erase my name
written in the Book of Life.

For my treasure is not built
from the dust of this earth.
My hope is not hanging
on the fragile thread of tomorrow.
My inheritance is guarded
beyond the reach of thieves,
beyond the power of kingdoms,
beyond the grave itself.

So let the storms come.
Let mountains crumble
and fortunes disappear.
Let the world take all it can carry.

Because when the final shadow falls,
I will still stand redeemed,
still held by mercy,
still clothed in grace.

The world may take everything from me,
but it cannot take away
the Kingdom of Heaven from me.

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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

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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.

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