Tag: Trials

A Life of Significance

Today’s a new day!

There is something about a long and difficult health journey that changes the way you see everything.

It has a way of stripping away every illusion of control.

We spend so much of our lives believing we are in charge of tomorrow. We make plans, build careers, chase achievements, accumulate possessions, and convince ourselves that if we just work a little harder or prepare a little better, we can control what comes next.

Then life happens.

A diagnosis.
A phone call.
A hospital room.
A test result.
A moment that changes everything.

My health journey has taught me that life is far more fragile than I ever imagined. It has also shown me how fragile relationships can be. Some people will walk beside you through the darkest valleys, while others quietly disappear when the road becomes difficult. Although that can be painful, it also reveals something beautiful—it helps you recognize those who genuinely love you, not for what you can do, but simply because you are you.

This journey has also taught me that everything we often believe defines us can disappear in an instant.

Our careers.
Our physical strength.
Our independence.
Our financial security.
Our titles.
Our reputation.
Even our carefully crafted plans for the future.

None of those things are guaranteed.

When those layers begin to fall away, one question remains:

Who are we when everything else is gone?

For me, that question continually brings me back to Jesus.

My identity cannot rest in what I accomplish, because accomplishments fade.

It cannot rest in my health, because health can change overnight.

It cannot rest in what others think of me, because opinions come and go.

My identity must rest in the One who never changes.

The older I get, and the longer this journey continues, the more convinced I become that so much of what we spend our lives worrying about simply doesn’t matter in the end.

We argue over temporary things.

We compete for positions that won’t last.

We chase recognition that will eventually be forgotten.

We exhaust ourselves trying to impress people whose approval can never truly satisfy our hearts.

Meanwhile, opportunities to love, encourage, forgive, and serve quietly pass us by.

What if we invested as much energy into loving people as we do protecting our image?

What if we pursued kindness with the same passion we pursue success?

What if we measured our lives less by what we accumulated and more by whose lives were changed because we were here?

I don’t want my life to be remembered for what I owned.

I want it to be remembered for how I loved.

I don’t want to simply leave behind possessions.

I want to leave behind hope.

I want people to know that even in weakness, Jesus remained faithful.

Even through suffering, His grace was sufficient.

Even when life felt uncertain, His promises never failed.

If my health journey has taught me anything, it is this:

Life is a gift.

Time is precious.

People matter.

Jesus is enough.

So today, I want to encourage you.

Don’t spend your life chasing things that will never satisfy your soul.

Don’t allow temporary achievements to become eternal priorities.

Choose a life of significance.

Love deeply.

Forgive quickly.

Serve generously.

Encourage freely.

Walk humbly with God.

Because when this life is over, it won’t matter how impressive our résumé was or how much applause we received.

What will matter is whether we loved God with all our heart and loved our neighbor as ourselves.

Those are the things that last.

Those are the things that echo into eternity. ~OC

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The Written Word

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

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

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

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

So today, I made a quiet decision.

I’m putting down the microphone.

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

This isn’t an ending.

It’s a return.

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

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

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

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

The microphone may be silent.

But the message continues.

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

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Loving Our Immigrant Neighbors

Today’s a new day! 

One of the most beautiful truths found throughout Scripture is this: every person is created in the image of God.

That truth doesn’t stop at a border.

It doesn’t depend on the language someone speaks, the color of their passport, or the country they once called home.

It is a truth that reminds us that every person has immeasurable value because they are loved by their Creator.

Today, my heart is especially drawn toward the immigrant community.

Behind every journey is a story.

Some came seeking opportunity. Others came to reunite with family. Some fled violence, persecution, or desperate circumstances. Many have sacrificed everything they knew in the hope of building a safer, better future for those they love.

While every person’s story is different, one thing remains the same: they deserve to be treated with dignity, kindness, and respect.

As followers of Jesus, our first response should never be fear or indifference. Our first response should be love.

Throughout His earthly ministry, Jesus consistently noticed the people others overlooked. He welcomed those on the margins, showed compassion to those in need, and reminded us that loving our neighbor is not optional—it is central to following Him.

Loving our immigrant neighbors does not require us to agree on every political question or every policy debate. Faithful Christians can hold different views about immigration laws and border security while still agreeing that every human being deserves compassion and should be treated with dignity.

The Gospel calls us to something higher than winning arguments.

It calls us to love.

That love may look like volunteering with a local ministry, helping a family learn English, providing meals, supporting legal aid ministries, mentoring children, offering friendship to someone who feels alone, or simply taking the time to listen to another person’s story.

Sometimes the greatest ministry begins with seeing someone who feels invisible.

The Church has an incredible opportunity to reflect the heart of Christ.

Imagine churches becoming places where newcomers find hope instead of suspicion, friendship instead of isolation, and grace instead of rejection.

Imagine believers praying not only for their own families but also for the families who have traveled difficult roads in search of safety, stability, or a new beginning.

The love of Christ has always crossed every barrier humanity has tried to build.

When we remember that, our hearts begin to change.

Today, let’s pray for immigrant families in our neighborhoods and throughout the world. Pray for their safety, for wisdom for those making difficult decisions, for churches to faithfully serve their communities, and for our leaders as they seek solutions that uphold both justice and compassion.

Then ask the Lord a simple but life-changing question:

“Jesus, how can You use me to love my neighbors today?”

Because prayer is never meant to end with “Amen.”

Prayer changes us.

Prayer opens our eyes.

Prayer moves our hands and feet.

May we become known as people who welcome others with the same grace that Christ has shown us.

One day, people from every tribe, every language, every nation, and every people will stand together before the throne of God, worshiping Jesus with one voice.

Until then, may we live as citizens of His Kingdom—loving generously, serving humbly, praying faithfully, and reflecting the heart of Christ to everyone we meet.

Prayer:

Dear God, we lift up immigrant families around the world and in our own communities. You know every journey, every fear, every hope, and every need. Protect those who are vulnerable, comfort those who are grieving, strengthen families facing uncertainty, and provide opportunities for peace and flourishing. Give wisdom to our leaders as they make difficult decisions, and help Your Church to be a place of compassion, truth, and hope. Teach us to love our neighbors as You have loved us, so that our lives point others to Jesus Christ. In His powerful and holy name we pray, Amen.

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Our Citizenship in Christ

Today’s a new day!

Today I’m reminded of something I deeply love about the Church.

It has never belonged to one country.

It belongs to Christ.

That truth has been evident since the very beginning. Jesus didn’t come to establish an earthly kingdom defined by borders, flags, political parties, or national identities. He came to establish an eternal Kingdom made up of redeemed people from every corner of the earth.

One of my favorite pictures in all of Scripture is found in Revelation 5:9:

“And they sang a new song, saying: ‘You are worthy… because You were slain, and with Your blood You purchased for God persons from every tribe and language and people and nation.'”

What an incredible image.

Around the throne of Jesus there won’t be one nation represented above another. There won’t be political divisions or cultural superiority. There won’t be earthly labels separating us.

There will simply be worship.

People from every tribe.
Every language.
Every people.
Every nation.

All united by one Savior.

I’m grateful for the freedoms many of us enjoy. They are tremendous blessings that should never be taken for granted. But I’m also grateful for my brothers and sisters around the world who faithfully follow Jesus under circumstances I can hardly imagine. Some worship in beautiful church buildings. Others gather quietly in homes. Some sing openly without fear. Others whisper their praises because following Christ could cost them everything.

Yet we are one Church.

One Body.

One family.

The Church has always been much bigger than any nation and much greater than any government. Kingdoms rise and fall. Borders change. Leaders come and go. But the Kingdom of God continues to grow, one transformed life at a time.

That reminds me where my deepest identity truly belongs.

It isn’t found in my citizenship.

It isn’t found in my political affiliation.

It isn’t found in my nationality.

It is found in Jesus Christ.

As followers of Christ, we’re called to love our neighbors, pray for our leaders, serve our communities, and be good citizens wherever God has placed us. But above all else, we remember that our ultimate allegiance belongs to the King of Kings.

As Paul reminds us in Philippians 3:20:

“But our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ.”

May we never allow earthly differences to overshadow our heavenly unity.

May we celebrate the beautiful diversity of God’s family.

May we pray for believers across the globe with the same love we have for those sitting beside us each Sunday.

And may we live every day remembering that before we are anything else, we are followers of Jesus.

The Church has never belonged to one country.

It belongs to Christ.

And one glorious day, people from every tribe, every language, every people, and every nation will gather around His throne with one voice, proclaiming:

“Worthy is the Lamb!”

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If We Don’t Look And Act Like Jesus, Why Would Anyone Want Jesus?

Today’s a new day! ~OC

One of the hardest questions I wrestle with is this:

If I didn’t know Jesus, would the way many Christians act make me want to know Him… or run the other direction?

That’s not a question for “those Christians.” It’s a question for every one of us who claims His name.

Over the years, I’ve had countless conversations with people who don’t believe in Christ. What has surprised me isn’t that they reject Jesus. In fact, many don’t.

Most have no problem with Jesus.

They admire His compassion. They respect His love for the forgotten. They appreciate that He defended the outcast, touched the untouchable, forgave sinners, and confronted religious hypocrisy.

The problem they keep describing isn’t Jesus.

The problem is many of the people who claim to represent Him.

They see Christians who are quicker to judge than to listen.

Quicker to condemn than to comfort.

Quicker to win an argument than to win a soul.

Quicker to defend a political party than to defend the Gospel.

They hear us talk about love while watching us treat people with contempt.

They hear us preach grace while refusing to extend it.

They hear us speak about forgiveness while clinging to bitterness.

Can we really blame a hurting world for being confused?

Jesus said the world would know we belong to Him by our love—not by our outrage, our social media posts, our political victories, or our ability to prove someone wrong.

The early Church turned the world upside down because they looked like Jesus.

They served.

They sacrificed.

They forgave.

They loved people no one else wanted.

They cared for the poor.

They welcomed the stranger.

They laid down their lives rather than demand their rights.

Somewhere along the way, too many of us have become known more for what we’re against than for Who we follow.

That should break our hearts.

The Church was never called to mirror the culture. We were called to reflect Christ.

Being the hands and feet of Jesus isn’t a catchy phrase. It’s our calling.

It means feeding the hungry.

Visiting the lonely.

Welcoming the broken.

Standing with the hurting.

Speaking truth with humility.

Offering grace without compromising the Gospel.

Loving people before expecting them to live like believers.

The world is desperately searching for hope.

Searching for purpose.

Searching for unconditional love.

Searching for life.

They’re looking everywhere because too often they don’t see those things in us.

Imagine what would happen if Christians became impossible to hate—not because we compromised truth, but because we loved so radically that even those who disagreed with us couldn’t deny the presence of Christ.

Imagine if our first instinct was mercy instead of judgment.

Listening instead of assuming.

Serving instead of demanding.

Loving instead of labeling.

That’s exactly what Jesus did.

The Gospel has never changed.

Jesus has never changed.

His love still transforms lives.

His grace still saves.

His cross is still enough.

Maybe the greatest revival our communities need doesn’t begin with the lost finding Jesus.

Maybe it begins with the Church looking like Jesus again.

Lord, let us be known for our love.

Let our words match our witness.

Let our lives point people toward You instead of away from You.

May we never become a stumbling block to those You came to save.

May we truly become Your hands and feet in a world desperate to experience Your hope, Your grace, and Your life.

Amen.

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The Words Of A President Matter

Today’s a new day!

The words of a President matter.

They always have, and they always will.

The President of the United States holds one of the most influential voices in the world. Every speech, every interview, every social media post, and every public statement carries weight. Those words have the power to calm fears, inspire hope, strengthen democracy, and remind us that, despite our differences, we are one nation.

They also have the power to deepen wounds.

In recent years, political rhetoric has become increasingly hostile. It has become common to hear entire groups of Americans labeled as “evil,” “enemies,” or people beyond redemption simply because they belong to a different political party.

That kind of language is dangerous.

There are certainly evil actions in this world. There are policies we may strongly oppose. There are decisions that deserve criticism and leaders who should be held accountable. Democracy depends upon honest debate and the free exchange of ideas.

But there is a profound difference between challenging ideas and condemning millions of people.

Healthy debate strengthens a republic.

Demonizing one another weakens it.

One of the highest callings of the presidency is not merely to govern—it is to unite. While no president can eliminate every disagreement, the office carries a unique responsibility to remind Americans that we share a common future, even when we disagree about the path forward.

Unity does not require uniformity.

It does not mean everyone votes the same way or holds identical beliefs.

It means remembering that our political opponents are still our fellow citizens. They are our neighbors, coworkers, family members, veterans, teachers, nurses, police officers, pastors, small business owners, and friends. We may passionately disagree with one another, but disagreement alone does not make someone evil.

History reminds us that nations become strongest not when everyone agrees, but when people learn how to disagree without hatred.

Civil debate is essential.

Respectful disagreement is healthy.

Listening is powerful.

But when our language convinces us that those on the other side are no longer fellow Americans—but enemies to be feared or hated—we begin to lose something far more valuable than an election.

We begin to lose one another.

As Christians, this challenge carries even greater weight. Scripture calls us to “speak the truth in love” and reminds us that every person is created in the image of God. We are called to love our neighbors, pray for our leaders, and overcome evil with good—not to fuel hatred with harsher words.

Our nation desperately needs leaders who will lower the temperature instead of raising it.

Leaders who challenge without demeaning.

Leaders who persuade without insulting.

Leaders who remember that the presidency belongs to all Americans—not just those who voted for them.

The words of a President matter.

May those words bring courage instead of fear.

Hope instead of hostility.

Truth instead of propaganda.

And unity instead of division.

Because America will not be healed by louder voices shouting across political lines.

It will be strengthened by people—and leaders—who remember that we are at our best when we disagree with conviction, treat one another with dignity, and never forget that we are one nation under God, with liberty and justice for all. ~OC

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Dear God, We Give You This Moment

Today’s a new day!

This past Friday, the church Laura and I are currently attending experienced an unimaginable tragedy. The sixteen-year-old grandson of the founding pastor lost his life in a diving accident.

There are moments in life when words seem painfully inadequate. No explanation can remove the grief. No sermon can erase the tears. No answer can completely satisfy the questions that arise when a young life is taken far too soon.

My heart breaks for his family. It breaks for his friends. It breaks for this church family and for everyone whose life was touched by this remarkable young man.

Today, I simply pray:

Jesus, surround them with Your peace that surpasses all understanding. Hold them close when the silence feels overwhelming. Be their comfort when words fail. Be their strength when every step feels impossible.

Scripture reminds us that “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18). Those words are not clichés. They are promises for moments exactly like this.

As believers, we don’t grieve without hope. We grieve honestly. We cry. We ask questions. We lean on one another. And we cling to the One who has already conquered death through the resurrection of Jesus Christ.

While none of us can fully understand why tragedies like this happen, I believe God is able to meet people in the deepest valleys of life. Throughout history, He has brought hope where there was despair, healing where there were wounds, and faith where there were questions. I pray He will do that again in our community.  

My prayer is that, even in the midst of heartbreaking loss, people throughout our county will encounter the love, grace, and presence of Jesus in a way they never have before. I pray that those who have drifted from God will seek Him. I pray that those who have never known Him will discover the hope found only in Christ. I pray that our churches will become places where the hurting are welcomed, the broken are loved, and the Gospel is lived with compassion.

Revival has often begun not in moments of comfort, but in moments when people recognized their desperate need for God. I pray that our response to this tragedy will be to love more deeply, serve more faithfully, pray more earnestly, and point more clearly to Jesus.

Today, there are no easy answers.

Only a Savior who weeps with those who weep.

Only a Shepherd who walks through the valley with His sheep.

Only a King who defeated death and promises eternal life to those who trust in Him.

So today, as one church family, one community, and one body of Christ…

Dear God, we give You this moment.

Bring comfort where there is sorrow.

Bring peace where there is anxiety.

Bring hope where there is despair.

Bring healing where hearts have been shattered.

And may Your love shine so brightly through Your people that many come to know Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior.

Please join me in praying for this precious family, for the church family, and for everyone affected by this heartbreaking loss.~OC

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Faces Covered, Hearts Exposed: What This Train Car Teaches Us About Hate And Christian Nationalism

Courage vs Cowards

Today’s a new day! Here are my thoughts on this photo taken on the Metro in Washington, D.C. The following are my thoughts and opinions. If you happen to disagree with me, I encourage you to take it up with God.

Look at this photo. A young woman sits alone on a train, surrounded by dozens of men in matching uniforms, faces covered, patches bearing flags. She meets the camera’s eye. They refuse to be seen.

This image is a parable. And it’s the opposite of the Gospel.

The Gospel unmasks. Hate hides.

Jesus never hid His face. He wept publicly, prayed publicly, died publicly. “I have spoken openly to the world,” He told His accusers. (John 18:20)

Hate loves masks. It loves anonymity, mobs, and intimidation. Why? Because deeds done in darkness don’t survive the light (John 3:20). When an ideology needs to cover faces to deliver its message, it’s already confessed something about that message.

Christian Nationalism too often puts a mask on Jesus. It takes the crucified Savior and dresses Him in the uniform of earthly power. But Christ doesn’t need our flags stitched to His robe. “My kingdom is not of this world” (John 18:36). When we try to make it of this world, we end up looking like this train car: coercive, not compelling.

The Gospel draws near. Hate surrounds.

Notice the posture here. One person, isolated. Many others, standing, looming. That’s not how Jesus moved through crowds. 

He touched lepers when others stepped back. He invited Zacchaeus down from a tree when the crowd boxed him out. He stopped for the woman no one else would look at. The Gospel breaks circles of exclusion. Hate forms them.

Christian Nationalism, at its worst, baptizes “us vs. them.” It defines who belongs and who threatens. But the cross destroyed the dividing wall of hostility (Ephesians 2:14). If our faith needs an enemy to stay strong, it isn’t Christian faith. It’s civil religion with a cross necklace.

The Gospel sees the individual. Hate sees categories.

I don’t know the woman’s name in the photo. You don’t either. But God does. She isn’t a symbol. She’s a person made in His image (Genesis 1:27)

Movements built on hate don’t see people. They see demographics, threats, problems to solve. They make you afraid to sit alone on a train in your own city. 

Jesus’s first question to people was often, “What do you want me to do for you?” (Mark 10:51). He saw individuals. Christian Nationalism tends to see a “nation to save” and turns people into footnotes. When saving “America” matters more than loving the person next to you on the Metro, we’ve lost the plot.

So what do we do when the train car feels like the world?

Uncover our own faces: Confess where contempt has crept into our hearts. It’s easy to hate the masked men too. Jesus doesn’t give us that option. “Love your enemies” (Luke 6:27) includes them.

Sit with the isolated: Who in your life feels like that woman on the train? The Gospel moves us toward them, not away. Proximity kills caricatures.

Refuse the idols of power and fear: The early church changed the Roman Empire without voting, lobbying, or taking up swords. They did it by loving radically and dying well. Our witness still works that way.

Remember what we’re witnessing to: Not a Christian nation. A crucified Christ. “We preach Christ crucified… the power of God and the wisdom of God” (1 Corinthians 1:23-24). 

This photo should grieve us. Not just because of what it says about them, but because of what it reveals about us. Every one of those masked hearts was knit together by God. Every one of them is someone Christ died for. So is she. So are you. So am I.

Hate says, “Cover your face and find your strength in numbers.” 

Jesus says, “Take up your cross and find your life by losing it.”

The train is still running. The choice is still ours. Which kingdom will we board? ~OC

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If Old Glory Could Speak On America’s 250th Birthday

Happy Fourth of July! Before we start with the food and fireworks, I wanted to share the following post with you. I hope you will take the time to read. ~OC

“I have flown over battlefields and schoolhouses, over farms and factories, over churches and courthouses. I have been raised in moments of victory and lowered in moments of grief. I have watched generations come and go. Today, America turns Two-Hundred and Fifty years old. If I could speak, this is what I would say…”

My Dear America,

For two hundred and fifty years, I have waved in the wind through seasons of triumph and seasons of heartbreak.

I have seen brave men and women give everything so others could live in freedom. I have watched families build lives from nothing. I have witnessed extraordinary courage during wars, disasters, and national tragedies. I have also watched division, hatred, selfishness, and pride threaten the very foundation upon which this nation was built.

Today, I want to speak—not as a politician, not as a party, not as an ideology—but as the flag that has stood above every American generation.

To Those Born in America

Never forget that freedom has always carried a cost.

The liberties you enjoy today were purchased by the sacrifice of countless men and women whose names history may never remember. Some never came home. Others came home carrying wounds that could not be seen.

Honor their sacrifice not merely with words, but by how you live.

Respect one another.

Serve your communities.

Defend truth.

Care for your neighbors.

Do not waste your freedom chasing things that will never satisfy your soul.

Remember that rights and responsibilities have always walked hand in hand.

A nation cannot remain free if its people refuse to live with character.

To Those Who Now Call America Home

Welcome.

Whether your journey here began with hope, hardship, sacrifice, or prayer, know that your story is now woven into America’s story.

Bring your talents.

Bring your dreams.

Bring your work ethic.

Bring your love for family.

Bring your gratitude.

Help strengthen this nation by embracing not only its opportunities but also its responsibilities.

Never stop appreciating the freedoms that millions around the world still long for.

America has always been at her best when people from many backgrounds chose to become one people committed to a shared future.

To Every Citizen

Please stop seeing each other as enemies.

You were never meant to fear one another simply because you vote differently.

You were never meant to despise someone because they grew up somewhere else.

You were never meant to define another human being by a political label before seeing them as a person.

I have covered the coffins of soldiers from every political belief.

Death never asked who they voted for.

Their sacrifice was for every American.

Perhaps that should remind you that your neighbor is not your enemy. 

Remember Who You Are

I am only cloth.

I have no power by myself.

I only represent the people who stand beneath me.

If honesty disappears…

If compassion disappears…

If courage disappears…

If integrity disappears…

Then I become nothing more than fabric blowing in the wind.

A nation’s greatness has never depended upon the beauty of its flag.

It has always depended upon the character of its people.

A Word About Humility

No nation is perfect.

America has accomplished remarkable things.

America has also made painful mistakes.

Maturity is found in celebrating what is good 

while having the courage to acknowledge what must improve.

Patriotism is not pretending perfection.

Patriotism is loving your country enough to help it become better.

To the Next Generation

Dream boldly.

Work diligently.

Serve faithfully.

Honor your parents.

Protect the vulnerable.

Respect those who came before you.

Build something that outlives you.

Leave America stronger than you found her.

One day, this nation will belong to your children.

Prepare it well.

One Final Thought

As I have flown over this nation for two-hundred and fifty years, I have learned something.

The strongest America has never been the loudest America.

The strongest America has always been the America that prayed together…

served together…

sacrificed together…

forgave together…

and believed that tomorrow could be better than yesterday.

May you never lose that hope.

May you never lose your courage.

May you never lose your gratitude.

And may you never forget that while I may symbolize your nation, it is you—your character, your compassion, your integrity, and your willingness to love your neighbor—who determine what I truly stand for.

Happy Two Hundred and Fiftieth Birthday, America.

May God bless you with wisdom.

May He guide your leaders.

May He protect your people.

And may liberty always be joined with justice, humility, and love.

Happy Birthday, America.

Signed, 

—Old Glory

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God, What Are You Trying To Teach Me?

Today’s a new day!

Over the past twenty-plus years, I have walked through one of the most difficult journeys of my life. There have been diagnoses I never expected, hospital stays, surgeries, treatments, setbacks, moments of uncertainty, and seasons where I had no idea what tomorrow would bring.

People have often asked me, “Have you ever asked God, ‘Why me?'”

My answer has always been the same.

No.

Not because there is anything wrong with asking that question. In fact, many faithful men and women throughout Scripture poured out their hearts before God. They asked difficult questions. They lamented. They cried. They wrestled with pain. God is not afraid of our honest questions.

But for me personally, “Why me?” was never the question God placed on my heart.

Instead, from the very beginning of this journey, another question kept rising within me:

“God, what are You trying to teach me in this season?”

That simple shift changed everything.

Instead of only looking for an explanation, I began looking for His presence.

Instead of demanding answers, I started seeking wisdom.

Instead of focusing only on what I had lost, I began discovering what God was building inside of me.

Looking back over these twenty-plus years, I realize that some of life’s greatest lessons weren’t learned on the mountaintops. They were learned in hospital rooms, waiting rooms, sleepless nights, rehabilitation sessions, and quiet moments when all I could do was trust Jesus.

So, what has God taught me?

I’m glad you asked.

God has taught me that my identity is not found in my health but in Him.

When your body begins to fail, you quickly discover that your worth isn’t measured by what you can accomplish. My value has never been based on my strength, my productivity, or my abilities. My identity has always been found in being a child of God.

God has taught me that weakness is not failure.

The world celebrates strength, but God’s Kingdom often works through weakness. It is often in our weakest moments that His strength shines the brightest. My limitations have become opportunities for His power to be displayed.

God has taught me patience.

Healing rarely happens on our timetable. Answers don’t always come when we want them. Waiting has never been easy, but waiting with Jesus has shaped my faith in ways instant answers never could.

God has taught me to treasure every single day.

When you’ve stared mortality in the face, ordinary days become extraordinary gifts. A sunrise. A conversation with my bride, Laura. A laugh with a friend. A walk outside. These are no longer ordinary moments—they are reminders of God’s goodness.

God has taught me compassion.

Pain has a way of opening your eyes to the suffering of others. I have learned to notice the people sitting quietly in waiting rooms, the caregivers who are exhausted, the families praying for miracles, and the person who simply needs someone to listen.

God has taught me that prayer changes me.

Sometimes God changes our circumstances.

Sometimes He changes us while we’re in them.

Both are miracles.

God has taught me that hope is never wasted.

Hope isn’t pretending everything is okay.

Hope is believing that Jesus is still faithful when everything around you says otherwise.

Hope is trusting His promises even when you cannot yet see His plan.

Most importantly…

God has taught me that He will never leave me.

Not once.

Not in the emergency room.

Not in the hospital room.

Not during surgery.

Not during the difficult diagnoses.

Not during the darkest nights.

Not during the countless doctor’s appointments.

Not during the moments when I didn’t know what the future would hold.

Jesus has been faithful every single step of the journey.

If you’re reading this while walking through your own difficult season, maybe your question today is, “God, why me?”

If that’s where you are, know this: God welcomes your honesty.

But perhaps, when you’re ready, you might also ask another question:

“Lord, what are You trying to teach me in this season?”

That question doesn’t minimize the pain.

It doesn’t erase the tears.

It doesn’t guarantee immediate answers.

But it does position our hearts to receive what God may be doing beneath the surface.

I’ve learned that while God may not always remove the storm immediately, He is always present within it. Sometimes the greatest miracle isn’t that our circumstances change overnight—it’s that Christ transforms us as we walk through them.

My health journey has been long.

It has been difficult.

It has been painful.

But by God’s grace, it has also been one of the greatest classrooms of my life.

And for every lesson, every trial, every unexpected detour, and every reminder that His grace is sufficient…

I simply say:

“Thank You, Jesus.

Now, Lord…

What would You like to teach me next?” ~OC

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