Six Battles, One Faith

Hello. Every time I write a post, I wonder if it will be my last one. Writing and putting my thoughts together have become much harder the last few months. This post alone took me months to write. But as always, I leave everything in God’s hands.

My Journey with Cancer, Parkinson’s, Myasthenia Gravis, Gastroparesis, Long Haulers COVID, and Now the Beginning of Dementia.

Sometimes I sit back and wonder how one person can experience so many different medical battles in a lifetime.

Cancer, Parkinson’s. Myasthenia Gravis. Gastroparesis. Long Haulers COVID. And now, the beginning of another chapter I never imagined having to write: Dementia.

Six diagnoses. Six different challenges. Countless doctor’s appointments, hospitalizations, treatments, medications, sleepless nights, unanswered questions, and moments when my body has reminded me that I’m not in control of nearly as much as I once thought.

This isn’t a story I’m sharing because I want sympathy. It’s not about seeking attention or having people feel sorry for me.

It’s about sharing my journey. The good, the bad, the beautiful, the heartbreaking, and everything in between.

It’s about being honest about what life looks like when you live with multiple chronic and progressive health conditions.

And most importantly, it’s about sharing what Jesus has meant to me throughout this journey.

Cancer: The Battle That Started It All:

In 2003, I heard two words that would forever change my life: You have cancer.

It was one of my first major medical battles and an early reminder of just how fragile life can be. Cancer brought uncertainty, fear, and questions about the future, but it also strengthened my appreciation for every day I’m given.

Little did I know that cancer would be followed by several more medical battles over the years.

Through it all, I’ve continued to learn that my circumstances may change, but God’s faithfulness never does.

Cancer may have been one of my battles, but it never became my identity. Jesus remained my identity, my hope, and my strength.

PARKINSON’S: THE BATTLE THAT KEEPS ON STEALING:

My Parkinson’s diagnosis came in 2007.

I never imagined that a neurological disease would become such a significant part of my life. Parkinson’s has affected my physical abilities, mobility, energy, and, perhaps most frustratingly, my ability to communicate.

My voice doesn’t always cooperate. Sometimes I know exactly what I want to say, but getting the words out is an entirely different challenge.

For someone who loves writing, encouraging people, sharing the Gospel, and communicating with others, losing some of that ability has been particularly difficult.

I’ve had to find different ways to express myself and share what God puts on my heart.

But here’s something I’ve learned:

Parkinson’s may affect my voice, but it cannot silence my faith.

I still have something to say. I still have a testimony to share. And I still have a reason to encourage others.

MYASTHENIA GRAVIS: WHEN YOUR OWN BODY BECOMES A BATTLEFIELD

In 2009, another diagnosis entered my life: Myasthenia Gravis.

Living with MG means dealing with a neuromuscular autoimmune disease that causes muscle weakness and can affect everyday activities in ways most people never understand.

Some days, even the simplest things require tremendous effort.

There are days when my body doesn’t have the strength to do what my mind wants it to do. There are moments when fatigue takes over and I have to accept that I simply cannot do everything I want.

One of the hardest parts of living with MG is its unpredictability.

You can have plans, dreams, and things you want to accomplish, only to have your body remind you that today isn’t going to go according to plan.

It’s a humbling experience.

But I’ve learned that my worth isn’t determined by how much I accomplish in a day.

God doesn’t love me more on my productive days or less on my difficult ones.

His grace is sufficient, even when my strength isn’t.

GASTROPARESIS: WHEN SOMETHING SO SIMPLE BECOMES A DAILY BATTLE

In 2015, Gastroparesis became another part of my medical journey.

Something most people never think twice about, eating, became another challenge.

Gastroparesis affects the stomach’s ability to empty properly. It can make nutrition, eating, and digestion incredibly difficult.

It’s hard to explain what it’s like when something as fundamental as eating becomes a daily medical challenge.

There are frustrations, discomfort, limitations, and days when you simply wish your body would cooperate.

I have dealt with a gastric stimulator, a feeding tube and 70% of my stomach being removed.

Dealing with gastroparesis is another reminder that so many things we take for granted are actually blessings.

I’ve learned to appreciate things differently, celebrate small victories, and recognize that sometimes getting through an ordinary day is anything but ordinary.

LONG HAULERS COVID: ANOTHER UNEXPECTED CHAPTER

In 2021, Long Haulers COVID added another layer to an already complicated medical journey.

After everything my body had experienced, I found myself navigating the lingering effects of another illness.

The fatigue, physical challenges, and uncertainty added to an already difficult situation.

Sometimes it feels like just when I begin adjusting to one medical challenge, another one comes along.

I would love to tell you that I’ve gotten used to it.

But the truth is, you never completely get used to having your health turned upside down.

You learn to adjust. You learn to adapt. You learn to appreciate the good days.

And you learn that tomorrow is never guaranteed.

DEMENTIA: A NEW CHAPTER AND A DIFFERENT KIND OF FEAR

And now, there’s Dementia.

This is perhaps one of the most difficult chapters for me to write about.

It’s one thing to experience physical limitations. It’s another thing to begin facing questions about your memory, your thinking, and what the future might hold.

Dementia brings a different kind of uncertainty.

There are questions I don’t have answers to. There are things about the future that I would rather not think about.

I love remembering. I love writing. I love creating songs, sharing stories, encouraging people, and reflecting on what God has done throughout my life.

Those pleasures in life are becoming more difficult these days. This is a difficult season to process.

But I’m learning something important.

My identity has never been dependent on my memory, my physical abilities, my voice, or my medical circumstances.

My identity has always been found in Jesus Christ.

Even when my body struggles, even when my voice is weak, and even when my memory isn’t what it once was, I am still a child of God.

My value hasn’t changed.

My purpose hasn’t disappeared.

And my Savior hasn’t gone anywhere.

I don’t know what this chapter will look like, but I know who will walk through it with me.

THE PART OF MY JOURNEY PEOPLE DON’T ALWAYS SEE

Behind these six diagnoses is a human being.

A child of God’s. A husband. A son. A friend. Someone who still has dreams, hopes, passions, and a desire to make a difference.

There are days when the fatigue is overwhelming.

There are nights when sleep is difficult to find.

There are moments when pain, weakness, and frustration take their toll.

There are things I want to do but cannot.

There are meetings I have to miss, commitments I have to step away from, and days when I have to remind myself that resting isn’t quitting.

Sometimes I miss the person I used to be physically.

I miss the freedom of being able to do things without calculating how much energy they will require.

I miss having a voice that cooperates.

I miss the days when my body didn’t dictate so many of my decisions.

And yes, sometimes I get discouraged.

I’m sharing that because I believe Christians need to understand something:

Having faith doesn’t mean you never struggle. Having faith means you know where to turn when you do.

I don’t believe we have to pretend everything is wonderful when we’re hurting.

Jesus never asked us to pretend.

He invites us to bring our burdens, our fears, our disappointments, and our brokenness to Him.

And that’s what I continue to do.

MY FAITH IS BIGGER THAN MY DIAGNOSES

Over the years, I’ve experienced some incredibly difficult medical situations.

I’ve faced moments when doctors weren’t sure I would survive. I’ve experienced hospitalizations, intensive care, treatments, and medical circumstances that I never imagined would become part of my testimony.

I’ve also experienced what I can only describe as the incredible grace and mercy of God.

In 2019, after years of serious illness and moments when my life was hanging in the balance, I experienced a remarkable miracle after attending a prayer gathering.

A miracle that hasn’t disappeared because God is mad at me or my lack of faith.

I am still walking in my miracle.

I have countless testimonies of God’s faithfulness, and I carry those experiences with me.

But I’ve also learned that faith isn’t a guarantee that we will never get sick, never suffer, or never experience another difficult diagnosis.

Faith is trusting Jesus even when the healing hasn’t come or the healing isn’t complete healing.

I believe the majority of the time, our healing is progressive. That is a post for another post.

Faith is believing when the answers don’t make sense.

Faith is finding peace when the circumstances haven’t changed.

Faith is knowing that even in the darkest valley, we are never walking alone.

One of my favorite passages is 2 Corinthians 12:9:

“My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness.”

I’ve come to understand that Scripture in ways I never could have imagined.

I used to think strength meant being able to do more, accomplish more, and push through every obstacle.

Today, I understand that sometimes strength means getting out of bed when everything hurts.

Sometimes strength means asking for help.

Sometimes strength means resting.

Sometimes strength means crying out to Jesus and admitting that you don’t have anything left to give.

And sometimes strength simply means getting through another day.

TO MY WIFE, FAMILY, FRIENDS, AND EVERYONE WHO PRAYS

I would be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge the people who have walked alongside me.

Especially my bride, Laura.

For more than two decades, she has walked through this medical journey with me. The appointments, treatments, surgeries, hospitalizations, uncertainty, and countless difficult days.

She has been there through so much.

People sometimes talk about what it means to love someone through sickness and health. Laura has lived that commitment in ways that words cannot adequately describe.

I am also grateful for family, friends, and everyone who made the choice to stick around and pray for us, encourage us, check in on us and reminded us that we’re not alone.

Your prayers matter.

Your encouragement matters.

And sometimes, just knowing someone is thinking about you makes a difficult day a little easier.

I’M NOT FINISHED LIVING

So, where do I go from here?

Honestly, I don’t know exactly what tomorrow will bring.

I cannot promise that my health will improve. I cannot promise that I won’t face more challenges. I cannot predict what these diagnoses will mean for my future.

But I can make a decision about today.

I can continue loving my wife.

I can continue encouraging people.

I can continue sharing my faith.

I can continue writing, creating, praying, and looking for opportunities to make a difference.

I can continue living a life of significance, even if that life looks very different from what I once imagined.

I have spent much of my life encouraging people to keep fighting, keep believing, and keep overcoming.

Today, I’m reminding myself of that same message.

And I want people to understand something:

I’m not an overcomer because I’ve defeated every medical condition.

I’m an overcomer because these conditions haven’t taken away my hope, my faith, my love for Jesus, or my desire to keep living.

My health issues are part of my story.

They are NOT my identity.

My identity is found in Jesus.

I am a child of God.

I am loved.

I am still here.

And I still have a purpose.

ONE FINAL THOUGHT

If you’re reading this and you’re fighting a battle of your own, whether it’s cancer, Parkinson’s, dementia, an autoimmune disease, chronic illness, depression, or something nobody else can see, please hear me.

You are not your diagnosis.

You are not your limitations.

You are not your worst day.

You are not forgotten.

You are not alone.

Give yourself permission to have difficult days. Give yourself permission to rest. Give yourself permission to ask for help.

And never believe that your life has lost its significance simply because your circumstances have changed.

I don’t know how many chapters remain in my story.

But I know who holds the pages.

I don’t know what tomorrow will bring.

But I know who holds tomorrow.

And I don’t know what the future of my health looks like.

But I know that Jesus will be with me every step of the way.

Six medical battles. Countless challenges. One Savior. One unwavering faith.

I’m not giving up.

I’m not throwing in the towel.

I’m not finished living.

I’m still fighting. I’m still believing. I’m still trusting Jesus.

And by His grace…

I’M STILL AN OVERCOMER!

KEEP FIGHTING. KEEP BELIEVING. KEEP OVERCOMING.

To God be the glory. ~OC

My Fifty Year Journey With Jesus

On Mother’s Day, 1976, I gave my heart to Jesus and was baptized. Little did I know what an incredible, challenging, beautiful, and sometimes unexpected journey I was beginning.

My walk with Jesus wasn’t always consistent during those early years. But when I turned 18, something changed. I made a decision to go ALL IN. I truly surrendered my life to Jesus, and I haven’t wanted to walk this journey without Him since.

As I look back over these 50 years, I can honestly say my journey hasn’t been perfect. I’ve stumbled. I’ve questioned. I’ve had seasons when life didn’t make sense. I’ve walked through valleys I never expected to experience, faced battles I never imagined fighting, and experienced moments when I didn’t understand what Jesus was doing.

But through it all, I’ve continued to keep my eyes on Him.

I’ve learned that following Jesus doesn’t mean you will always understand the journey. It doesn’t mean life will always be easy, prayers will always be answered the way you hoped, or that you won’t experience heartache, disappointment, and suffering.

It means choosing to trust Him even when you don’t understand Him.

Fifty years later, I’m still learning, still growing, still surrendering, still believing, and still holding on to His promises.

So, wherever you are in your walk with Jesus today, I want to encourage you with something I’ve learned over these five decades:

DON’T GIVE UP.

When life doesn’t make sense, keep believing.

When the answers don’t come, keep trusting.

When the road gets difficult, keep walking.

When you stumble, get back up.

When you cannot see what Jesus is doing, remember who Jesus is.

And when everything around you tells you to let go, hold even tighter to His promises.

You don’t have to have a perfect walk to have a meaningful relationship with Jesus. You just have to keep coming back to Him, keep surrendering, and keep your eyes fixed on Him.

As I continue this journey, my prayer is that my life will always point people toward Jesus. Not toward me, not toward my accomplishments, but toward the One who has carried me through every season.

Fifty years ago, I said YES to Jesus. Today, my answer is still YES!

I’m not finished walking. I’m not finished believing. I’m not finished trusting.

And as long as Jesus gives me breath, I’ll keep following Him.

STAY THE COURSE. KEEP THE FAITH. KEEP YOUR EYES ON JESUS.

“Let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith.” — Hebrews 12:1-2

To God be ALL the glory! ~OC

A Call To America 2026

Today’s a new day!

There comes a time in the life of every nation when the greatest danger isn’t the enemy standing at its gates, but the darkness growing within its own walls.

A time when a country can have more wealth than ever before, yet feel spiritually bankrupt.

When we can communicate with someone on the other side of the world in seconds, but cannot have an honest conversation with the person sitting across the dinner table.

When we have more information than any generation in history, but seem to have less wisdom.

America, we need to talk.

Not as Republicans or Democrats.
Not as conservatives or liberals.
Not as red states or blue states.

But as human beings.

As neighbors.

As parents and children.

As people who still believe that truth matters, kindness matters, and the lives of our fellow human beings matter.

Because something is happening to us. And pretending otherwise will not save us.

We have become a nation where winning an argument seems more important than understanding another person.

Where we celebrate our own victories and laugh at another person’s suffering.

Where we can watch a family lose everything and scroll past it without a second thought.

We have learned to defend our political leaders more passionately than we defend the truth.

We have become so determined to prove the other side wrong that we have forgotten to ask whether we are doing what is right.

And somewhere along the way, we started confusing cruelty with strength.

But cruelty is not strength.

Hatred is not patriotism.

And humiliating another human being does not make you a better person.

A nation cannot remain united when its people are taught to hate one another.

We wave our flags. We sing our national anthem. We speak proudly about freedom.

And we should.

But freedom is not simply the right to say whatever we want.

It is also the responsibility to consider what our words do to the people who hear them.

It is the courage to defend the rights of people with whom we disagree.

It is the willingness to protect those at risk, even when doing so earns us no applause.

And it is the understanding that the person standing across the political aisle is still a human being created in the image of God.

America, we have a problem when we can quote the Constitution but ignore the humanity of our neighbors.

We have a problem when we demand religious freedom for ourselves but hesitate to defend it for others.

We have a problem when we claim to love the Bible but use its words as weapons against people who are already hurting.

And we have a problem when the name of Jesus becomes a political slogan instead of an invitation to love our neighbors.

Because Jesus never asked us to build His kingdom through hatred.

He told us to love our enemies.

He told us to care for the hungry.

He told us to welcome the stranger.

He told us to care for the sick.

And He warned us about judging others while refusing to examine ourselves.

Yet today, some of the loudest voices claiming to represent Christianity seem to have forgotten the very person they claim to follow.

Church, we must decide whether we want the power of a political kingdom or the transforming love of Jesus Christ. We cannot afford to confuse the two.

A political party cannot save a soul.

A president cannot die on a cross for your sins.

A flag cannot forgive you.

And no politician, regardless of party, should ever become more important to you than your faith, your conscience, or your commitment to the teachings of Jesus.

Our political leaders are human beings. They will disappoint us. They will make mistakes. Some will lie. Some will abuse their power.

They should be held accountable.

Not excused because they wear our party’s colors.

Not defended because we fear what the other side might do.

Truth does not change depending on who tells the lie.

Justice does not become optional when our preferred candidate is in trouble.

And integrity is not something we should demand only from people we oppose.

If we believe in accountability, let us practice it.

If we believe in honesty, let us tell the truth.

If we believe in justice, let us demand it for everyone.

And if we claim to follow Jesus, let us stop making excuses for behavior that contradicts His teachings.

The greatest threat to Christianity is not always the person attacking the church from the outside. Sometimes it is the person sitting inside the church who has forgotten what Jesus taught.

And what about our children?

What are we teaching them?

That success matters more than character?

That popularity matters more than integrity?

That having the most money, the most followers, or the loudest voice makes someone important?

That people who look different, pray differently, speak differently, or come from another country are somehow worth less than we are?

We cannot teach our children to love their neighbors while demonstrating contempt for our own.

We cannot tell them that bullying is wrong and then celebrate it when a politician bullies someone we dislike.

We cannot tell them to be kind while applauding cruelty.

Children are watching.

They are listening.

And they are learning far more from what we do than from what we tell them.

What kind of America are we preparing for them?

One where compassion is considered weakness?

One where disagreement becomes hatred?

One where school shootings have become so familiar that another grieving family barely interrupts our daily routine?

One where people struggling with poverty, disability, addiction, or mental illness are treated as problems to be ignored rather than neighbors to be loved?

Surely we can do better.

Surely a nation with our resources can find the will to protect its children, care for its vulnerable, and give people hope for tomorrow.

Surely we can disagree without destroying one another.

And surely we can remember that a person’s worth is not determined by their bank account, their political affiliation, their immigration status, their disability, or the color of their skin.

Every human being carries a dignity that no election can grant and no politician has the authority to take away.

Now, let us talk about the church.

Not the building.

Not the denomination.

Not the size of the congregation or the number of views on a livestream.

The church.

The people who claim to follow Jesus Christ.

Where are we when our neighbors are hurting?

Where are we when immigrants are afraid?

Where are we when a family is grieving?

Where are we when someone living with a disability feels forgotten?

Where are we when a teenager is struggling with depression and believes nobody cares whether they live or die?

Where are we when people who have been rejected by religious communities begin to believe that God must reject them, too?

Are we there?

Are we showing up?

Are we listening?

Are we loving people who cannot give us anything in return?

Or have we become so consumed with defending our own religious and political identities that we have forgotten our calling?

Jesus did not tell His followers that the world would recognize them by their political victories.

He said they would be known by their love.

That should stop us in our tracks.

Because if our Christianity makes us more hateful, more arrogant, more judgmental, and less compassionate, something has gone terribly wrong.

We may know the language of faith without practicing the heart of it.

We may defend Scripture without allowing Scripture to challenge us.

We may speak the name of Jesus while refusing to treat His children with the dignity they deserve.

A cross around your neck means little if there is no evidence of Christ’s love in your heart.

And now, America, a word about freedom.

Freedom is precious.

But freedom without responsibility becomes selfishness.

Faith without humility becomes arrogance.

Power without accountability becomes dangerous.

And patriotism without compassion becomes an excuse to ignore the suffering of others.

Loving America does not mean pretending America is perfect.

It means caring enough about this country to confront its failures and work toward something better.

It means telling the truth about our history, even when the truth makes us uncomfortable.

It means protecting the rights of those whose beliefs differ from our own.

It means refusing to let hatred become the price of belonging.

It means believing that our country can be both strong and compassionate, both free and responsible, both proud of its achievements and honest about its shortcomings.

We do not have to choose between loving our country and wanting it to improve.

In fact, sometimes the greatest expression of love is refusing to remain silent when something is wrong.

And perhaps that is where our warning begins.

Not with the collapse of a government.

Not with the defeat of a political party.

Not with the disappearance of a particular way of life.

But with the slow death of our willingness to care about one another.

Because a nation does not become great simply because it possesses wealth, weapons, technology, or influence.

It becomes stronger when its people recognize their responsibility to one another.

When a hungry child is fed.

When a grieving family is comforted.

When a stranger is welcomed.

When a sick person is not forgotten.

When the powerful are held accountable.

When the powerless are protected.

When truth matters more than winning.

And when love becomes more than a word we use to describe ourselves.

America, we are not powerless to change the direction in which we are heading.

We can begin in our homes.

We can begin in our churches.

We can begin in our neighborhoods.

We can begin by putting down our phones and listening to someone whose life looks different from ours.

We can begin by refusing to share a hateful post.

We can begin by apologizing when we are wrong.

We can begin by helping someone who will never vote like us.

We can begin by treating the person who disagrees with us as a human being rather than an enemy.

And we can begin by asking ourselves one uncomfortable question:

If Jesus were standing beside me today, would He recognize the way I am treating His children?

Not the way I worship.

Not the way I vote.

Not the way I describe my faith.

The way I treat people.

That is where the real examination begins.

I cannot predict America’s future.

I cannot promise that our divisions will disappear or that our problems will be solved overnight.

But I believe we still have a choice.

We can continue down the road of bitterness, division, and contempt.

Or we can choose a different way.

We can choose truth over propaganda.

Compassion over cruelty.

Humility over arrogance.

Service over self-interest.

And the teachings of Jesus over the demands of political tribalism.

It will not be easy.

Loving people who disagree with us is difficult.

Standing for justice when our own side is wrong is difficult.

Admitting our mistakes is difficult.

Choosing forgiveness when resentment feels justified is difficult.

But doing what is right has never depended on doing what is easy.

And following Jesus has never been a promise of comfort.

It is a calling to faithfulness.

A calling to love.

A calling to serve.

A calling to become the hands and feet of Christ in a world that desperately needs Him.

So, America, this is not a prediction of doom.

It is a warning about the choices we are making today.

A warning that we can lose something far more important than an election.

We can lose our compassion.

We can lose our integrity.

We can lose our willingness to see the humanity in one another.

And we can lose sight of the very faith we claim to defend.

But we can also turn around.

We can repent.

We can rebuild trust.

We can reach across the divides.

We can choose to love again.

And we can remember that the future is not shaped only by the people in Washington, the leaders on television, or the voices shouting across social media.

It is also shaped by ordinary people deciding, one encounter at a time, what kind of neighbors, parents, friends, citizens, and Christians they will be.

The question is not whether America will ever be perfect. It never has been.

The question is whether we still have the courage to become better.

Whether we can put humanity above hatred.

Whether we can put service above selfishness.

Whether we can put the Gospel above our political loyalties.

And whether we can rediscover the simple, demanding, world-changing truth that loving God must never become an excuse for withholding love from our neighbors.

Because when the history of this generation is written, I wonder what will be remembered.

The politicians we defended?

The arguments we won?

The people we defeated?

Or the people we loved?

I wonder whether our children will remember a nation that taught them to fear one another or one that taught them to care for one another.

And I wonder whether the church will be remembered as a community that fought to control the world or one that courageously showed the world what the love of Jesus looks like.

America, the choice is before us.

We cannot change yesterday. We cannot control tomorrow. But we can decide who we will be today.

And perhaps the most important question of all is this:

When God looks at our lives—not our political parties, not our national symbols, not our public declarations of faith, but our hearts—will He see people who loved their neighbors as themselves?

Will He see people who cared for the least of these?

Will He see people who pursued justice, loved mercy, and walked humbly with Him?

Or will He see people who spent so much time fighting for power that they forgot what they were supposed to be fighting for?

May God forgive us where we have failed.

May He give us the courage to tell the truth.

May He soften the hearts we have allowed hatred to harden.

May He comfort those who are hurting, protect those who are vulnerable, and challenge those of us who have grown comfortable.

And may He remind us that the answer to a world filled with hatred is not more hatred.

It is a love strong enough to stand for truth, courageous enough to confront injustice, humble enough to admit its own failures, and faithful enough to serve even when nobody is watching.

America, wake up.

Not because one political party is evil.

Not because one election will save us.

But because we are in danger of forgetting what makes us human.

And, church, wake up.

Not to seize power.

Not to win a culture war.

But to return to Jesus.

Because the greatest revival America could ever experience would not begin with a political victory.

It would begin when ordinary people fall in love with Jesus again—and begin treating the people around them as if they actually believe what He taught.

That revival can begin in you.

It can begin in me.

It can begin today.

God, help us become the people we claim to be.

And may we never forget:

The strength of a nation is not measured only by the power it possesses, but by the love it is willing to give.

— A Call to America, 2026

Hope Refuses To Give Up

Hope is not wishful thinking that somehow everything will work out. Hope is the unshakable conviction that injustice will not win, death will not have the final word, and darkness will never overcome the light.

But hope is more than something we believe. It’s something we live.

Hope prays when the answers don’t come. Hope peacefully protests when injustice prevails. Hope weeps when hearts are broken. Hope keeps showing up when walking away would be easier.

Hope refuses to accept that the way things are is the way things must always be.

As Christians, our hope is rooted in Jesus Christ. We serve a Savior who conquered the grave, defeated death, and reminds us that even when the world looks hopeless, God is not finished writing the story.

So don’t just talk about hope. Live it. Fight for justice. Stand with the hurting. Love your neighbor. Speak truth. Keep showing up.

Hope is not passive waiting. Hope is active persistence. And as long as God gives us another day, we have another opportunity to make a difference.

“Let us not grow weary in doing good.” — Galatians 6:9

KEEP HOPING. KEEP STANDING. KEEP SHOWING UP. THE STORY ISN’T OVER! ~OC

The Mountain

Is God is calling you to climb a mountain?

You’ve been staring at this mountain long enough.

The diagnosis.
The disappointment.
The betrayal.
The loss.
The fear.
The rejection.
The impossible situation.

And somewhere along the way, you started believing that because the mountain is BIG, your God must be small.

NO.

Caleb stood at 85 years old and looked at a mountain filled with giants and said:

“GIVE ME THIS MOUNTAIN.”

Not give me an easier assignment.
Not give me a different battle.
Not wait until the circumstances improve.

Give me this mountain.

That’s the kind of faith I want.

Faith that doesn’t collapse when circumstances change.

Faith that doesn’t disappear when the answer doesn’t come quickly.

Faith that doesn’t need everything to make sense before it takes another step.

I will walk in the confidence of God- regardless of the mountain standing in front of me.

Because my confidence isn’t in my circumstances.

My confidence is in Jesus.

The mountain doesn’t determine whether God is faithful.

The diagnosis doesn’t determine whether God is faithful.

The storm doesn’t determine whether God is faithful.

The enemy doesn’t determine whether God is faithful.

God is always faithful. Period.

So bring me the mountain.

Bring me the thing that scares me.

Bring me the thing that makes me realize I can’t do this in my own strength.

Because when I reach the place where I can’t, I discover the place where He can.

I don’t need to understand the entire journey.

I just need enough faith to take the next step.

One More Step.

When I’m tired—one more step.
When I’m afraid—one more step.
When I’m hurting—one more step.
When I can’t see the way forward—one more step.

Not because I’m strong enough.

Because Jesus is.

And hear me clearly:

I am not backing down.

I am not bowing to fear.
I am not surrendering to circumstances.
I am not allowing yesterday to dictate tomorrow.

God, give me this mountain.

Because I know who walks with me.

His name is Jesus.

The One who walked out of the grave.
The One who conquered death.
The One who holds my future.
The One who has never abandoned me.
The One who is still Lord when everything around me is falling apart.

I don’t need the mountain to be smaller.
I need my faith to become bigger.

So, Jesus…

Give me this mountain.

Give me the courage to climb it.
Give me the faith to face it.
Give me the strength to endure it.
Give me the perseverance to finish it.

And when I reach the top, I won’t take the credit.

I will point everyone to you.

Because I didn’t overcome because I was strong.

I overcame because Jesus was with me every step of the way.

The mountain may be big.
The battle may be real.
The circumstances may be brutal.

But Jesus is still Lord.

And if Jesus is with me—

I will keep on climbing.

Give me the mountain.
Give me Jesus.
and let’s go.

“Now therefore, give me this mountain…” — Joshua 14:12

Men Stand Up

MEN, WE NEED TO TALK.

Not about politics.

Not about sports.

Not about money.

Not about who is right and who is wrong.

We need to talk about what happened to the men of God.

Because somewhere along the way, too many of us became comfortable sitting in the church while our families, our neighborhoods, and our communities were crying out for men who would actually stand up and lead.

We have plenty of men who can talk.

Plenty who can argue.

Plenty who can criticize.

Plenty who can tell everyone else what they’re doing wrong.

But God isn’t looking for more men who can point fingers.

God is looking for men who will get on their knees.

Men who will pray.

Men who will serve.

Men who will sacrifice.

Men who will give.

Men who will love.

Men who will stand in the gap.

Men who will say, “As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.”

Paul wrote:

“Be watchful, stand firm in the faith, act like men, be strong. Let all that you do be done in love.” ~1 Corinthians 16:13-14

Read that again.

Be courageous.

Be strong.

But don’t miss the last part:

Do everything in love.

Because biblical manhood isn’t about domination.

It’s not about control.

It’s not about being the loudest voice in the room.

It’s not about demanding respect.

It’s about becoming the kind of man who looks like Jesus.

Jesus picked up a towel.

Jesus washed feet.

Jesus touched the untouchable.

Jesus welcomed the rejected.

Jesus fed the hungry.

Jesus defended the vulnerable.

Jesus wept with those who were hurting.

Jesus prayed.

Jesus served.

Jesus sacrificed.

And ultimately…

Jesus laid down His life.

So if we want to be men of God, maybe we should stop asking,

“Who is going to serve me?”

and start asking,

“Who can I serve?”

Maybe it’s time for us to put down our pride and pick up the towel.

Put down our excuses and pick up our Bibles.

Put down our anger and pick up our cross.

Put down our phones and look our children in the eyes.

Put down our criticism and start praying for the people we’re so quick to criticize.

Men, our families need us.

Our wives need husbands who pray.

Our children need fathers who are present.

Our sons need men who will show them that strength isn’t about how much power you have, but how much of yourself you’re willing to give away.

Our daughters need to see what a godly man looks like.

Our churches need men who don’t just occupy a chair on Sunday but carry the burden of the Kingdom Monday through Saturday.

Our communities need men who will stop driving past brokenness and start walking toward it.

There are people all around us who are hurting.

People battling addiction.

People drowning in loneliness.

People wondering if anybody cares.

People who haven’t stepped inside a church in years because somewhere along the way, Christians made them feel like they weren’t welcome.

Men, what if we became different?

What if we became the men who showed up?

What if we became the men who prayed?

What if we became the men who served without needing recognition?

What if we became the men who gave without expecting something in return?

What if we became the men who loved people who could never repay us?

What if we stopped trying to build our own kingdoms…

and started building His?

I’m praying for something bigger than another men’s conference.

Bigger than another Bible study.

Bigger than another church program.

I’m praying for revival in the hearts of men.

I want to see men so completely consumed by Jesus that their families can’t help but notice.

I want to see fathers praying over their children.

Husbands praying with their wives.

Men opening their Bibles before they open social media.

Men serving the homeless.

Men feeding the hungry.

Men visiting the sick.

Men mentoring young men who desperately need somebody to tell them,

“You matter. You’re loved. You were created for something greater.”

I want to see men walk into the darkest places carrying the light of Christ.

I want to see men who aren’t ashamed to worship.

Men who aren’t afraid to cry.

Men who aren’t afraid to say, “I don’t have it all together.”

Men who aren’t afraid to get on their knees and cry out,

“Jesus, change me before You use me.”

Because maybe that’s where revival begins.

Not with a crowd.

With a man.

One broken man surrendering.

One father praying.

One husband repenting.

One son coming home.

One man saying,

“Jesus, I am Yours.”

And then another man catches fire.

And another.

And another.

And suddenly…

THE FIRE SPREADS.

It moves through families.

Through churches.

Through neighborhoods.

Through communities.

Until an entire city begins to feel the presence of God.

Not because men became louder.

But because men became different.

Not because men demanded their rights.

But because men started laying down their lives.

Not because men conquered people.

But because men started loving people.

I want to see men set on fire for Jesus.

And I don’t mean a temporary emotional high.

I mean HOLY FIRE.

The kind of fire that changes the way we live.

The kind of fire that changes the way we speak.

The kind of fire that changes our marriages.

The kind of fire that changes our parenting.

The kind of fire that changes how we treat strangers.

The kind of fire that makes us uncomfortable when we’re sitting still while somebody else is hurting.

Men, I’m calling us higher.

Higher than comfort.

Higher than complacency.

Higher than excuses.

Higher than church-as-usual.

Higher than cultural Christianity.

I’m calling us to Jesus.

To surrender.

To sacrifice.

To service.

To prayer.

To courage.

To holiness.

To love.

Because our communities don’t need more men pretending to have all the answers.

They need men who know where to take their questions.

To the feet of Jesus.

So tonight, before you criticize another man…

pray for him.

Before you complain about your church…

serve it.

Before you complain about your community…

love it.

Before you tell the world what’s wrong with Christianity…

show them Jesus.

And before you demand that everyone else change…

get alone with God and ask Him to change you.

Because revival may be closer than we think.

Maybe God isn’t waiting for the perfect man.

Maybe He’s waiting for the surrendered man.

The available man.

The obedient man.

The man who will say:

“Here I am, Lord. Send me.”

So, men…

Are you willing?

Are you willing to lead when nobody applauds?

Are you willing to serve when nobody notices?

Are you willing to give when it costs you something?

Are you willing to pray when you’re tired?

Are you willing to love when it’s difficult?

Are you willing to forgive?

Are you willing to repent?

Are you willing to surrender your pride?

Are you willing to pick up your cross?

Are you willing to follow Jesus even when it costs you everything?

Because here’s the question I can’t get out of my head:

If your family became exactly like the Christian life you are living right now…

would you be proud of what they became?

Let that sit there for a minute.

Don’t scroll.

Don’t defend yourself.

Don’t think about the man sitting next to you.

Think about you.

Look in the mirror.

Look at your Bible.

Look at your family.

Look at your community.

Look at your life.

And ask yourself the question that may be the most important question a man can ever ask:

AM I REALLY THE MAN GOD HAS CALLED ME TO BE?

And if the answer is no…

Don’t run from that conviction.

Run toward Jesus.

Because He isn’t finished with you.

Men, let’s rise.

Let’s pray.

Let’s serve.

Let’s give.

Let’s love.

Let’s lead.

Let’s surrender.

Let’s become the men our families need, our churches need, our communities need—and most importantly, the men Jesus has called us to be.

One man.

One surrendered heart.

One family.

One church.

One neighborhood.

One city.

Until the fire spreads.

MEN, IT’S TIME.

Let’s set your city’s on fire—not with our anger, not with our politics, not with our pride…

but with the radical, reckless, transforming LOVE OF JESUS CHRIST.

In Jesus’ name, Amen. ~OC

Living

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

Chronic Illness Is Not A Sin

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

I Was Created To Overcome

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

Life With Purpose

Today’s a new day!

Twenty-four years ago, I never imagined the road my life would take.

If someone had told me I would spend decades walking through cancer, Parkinson’s Disease, Myasthenia Gravis, a stroke, gastroparesis, early-stage Lewy Body Dementia, countless hospital stays, surgeries, treatments, and more doctor’s appointments than I could ever count, I probably would have wondered how anyone could endure that much.

The truth is, there have been days when I wondered the same thing.

There have been moments when fear tried to take over. There have been seasons of grief as I watched abilities I once took for granted slowly disappear. As a former marathon runner, I remember what it felt like to run mile after mile with freedom. Today, every step is a reminder that life has changed.

But here’s what I’ve discovered.

I couldn’t choose my diagnoses, but I could choose what I did with them.

Somewhere along this journey, God began changing my perspective. Instead of asking, “Lord, why is this happening to me?” I found myself asking, “Lord, how can You use this for Your glory?”

That question changed everything.

Purpose doesn’t eliminate pain, but it gives pain eternal significance.

Some of the most powerful moments of my faith haven’t happened in church buildings. They’ve happened in emergency rooms, hospital rooms, intensive care units, doctor’s offices, and quiet moments when all I could do was whisper the name of Jesus.

I’ve experienced frightening hallucinations brought on by Parkinson’s Disease and dementia. They were unlike anything I had ever known. Yet even in those moments, when my mind should have been consumed with fear, God filled it with peace and worship. Songs came flooding into my heart. Instead of darkness having the final word, Jesus reminded me that His presence reaches places illness never can.

Those songs eventually became Songs in the Battle.

What the enemy intended to use to discourage me, God transformed into worship.

In 2019, during surgery, God gave me a glimpse of Heaven that forever changed how I see suffering. I experienced a place more beautiful than words could ever describe. I had no pain. I had a new body. I didn’t want to leave.

Then I heard these words:

“Not yet, my son. I have more work for you to complete.”

When I woke up in recovery pointing toward Heaven, I knew my life no longer belonged to me. It belonged completely to the One who had sent me back.

That experience didn’t remove my health challenges.

It gave them purpose.

I’ve learned that ministry isn’t confined to a platform or a microphone. Sometimes ministry looks like encouraging another patient in a waiting room. Sometimes it’s praying for a nurse who has had an exhausting shift. Sometimes it’s simply choosing joy when your circumstances make no sense.

Every diagnosis has become another opportunity to testify to God’s faithfulness.

Every setback has become another opportunity to trust Him.

Every scar has become another reminder that God is still writing my story.

I’ve also learned that weakness isn’t the opposite of usefulness.

The world measures people by what they can produce. God measures us by our willingness to trust Him. Scripture reminds us that His power is made perfect in weakness. Looking back, I can honestly say I’ve often experienced God’s strength most clearly when I had none of my own.

If my journey has taught me anything, it’s that purpose isn’t determined by our physical abilities. It’s determined by our willingness to surrender whatever we have to God.

I don’t know what tomorrow’s doctor’s appointment will bring.

I don’t know what new challenge may be waiting around the corner.

But I do know this:

As long as God gives me breath, I want every breath to point someone toward Jesus.

If my story gives hope to someone newly diagnosed…

If it encourages a caregiver who is exhausted…

If it reminds someone that miracles still happen—even when they don’t look the way we expected…

If it helps one person discover that Jesus never abandons us in our suffering…

Then every difficult day has eternal value.

I have made the choice to live out my health issues with purpose.

Not because this journey has been easy.

Not because I enjoy suffering.

But because I have seen, time and time again, that God never wastes a surrendered life.

My health challenges are part of my testimony, but they are not my identity.

My identity is found in Jesus Christ.

And as long as He continues to write my story, I will keep telling the world that hope is alive, miracles still happen, and no diagnosis is greater than the faithfulness of God. ~OC

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