Even so it is not the will of your Father which is in heaven, that one of these little ones should perish. (Matthew 18:14)

On November 19, 2020, a furry gentleman adopted me into his world in complete surrender. On November 27, 2022, I allowed him to return to God.

Rocky Balboa was a precious black and white, long-haired kitty who may have taken his good old sweet time learning to trust me, but once he did, it was full-on devotion. I had seen Rocky around my yard for almost a year, but he’d never let me get close to him. When I first spotted the large dark spot on his left shoulder that didn’t quite match his other markings, I became more interested in him – wondering if it was a large wound. I tried to photograph him and zoom in on the mark but could never be quite sure what I was seeing.

It was while I was attempting to do so that Rocky first became more interested in me. I tried talking to him from afar – tossing treats into the grass to him – but I could never get close. I asked my neighbors about him, and they told me they thought he was blind and deaf – due to his penchant for lying beneath their truck with barely a response when they tried to get him to move. .At the prospect of these additional conditions, my empathy kicked in – big time. I was determined to befriend this little guy. If nothing else, I wanted him to be touched – to experience what love is and to know that he didn’t have to be alone.

Three months later, Rocky surprised me by waiting for me on my porch when I came home from work. As I slowly approached him, he didn’t move, so I ran inside to get some treats to toss. After doing so, I was shocked to see Rocky slowly coming towards me, cautiously venturing over to indulge in the kibble. He was starting to trust me!  

Within a week, Rocky regularly ate on my porch and allowed me to sit with him while he dined. My goal was to let him get used to my presence. It was a long, slow process, but I was determined to show love to this precious orphan. If I could just touch him for a moment, that would make me so happy. He was so skittish I never thought that day would come – until it did.

After weeks of sitting on the cold concrete, barely moving, consistently offering my camaraderie, kind words, and smiling face to this poor soul, one day Rocky gave in. As if a switch clicked inside him, Rocky walked over and sat down within inches of me. Not knowing how he’d react, I slowly reached out, offered my hand, and gently touched his head. That was all it took. Before I knew what was happening, this long-suffering creature climbed into my lap. I barely breathed when he did so but carefully pulled out my phone to take a photo of the milestone. When Rocky finally let me pet him – truly stroke his dirty fur – my heart soared as I marveled at his trust in me. Such a gift.

Despite his earlier reservations, Rocky demonstrated his joy as he began purring at my touch, seemingly unable to get enough of my love. My heart melted, and I was hooked. I had to take him inside.

What I’d long suspected was a shoulder wound was just that – a four by 5-inch, partially scabbed, deep, ugly gouge with leaves stuck in it. I didn’t dare touch it but felt such sympathy, knowing Rocky had carried this injury for at least 4-months: from when I first noticed his discolored shoulder. I suspected he was FIV-positive, like my other adopted kitty, Leo, due to his unhealing wound.

FIV stands for Feline Immunodeficiency Virus. While the disease is rare – affecting only 2-3% of the feline population in the U.S. – it is relatively common amongst Tom cats due to the saliva-to-blood transmission that can occur through a deep bite. While FIV is not the same as Feline Aids, much as HIV is not the same as the Aids virus in humans, it eventually can be – lowering a cat’s ability to combat infections.

A week later, I grabbed Rocky when he came to see me and rushed him inside my garage. He never protested. His vet visit the next day confirmed my earlier presumption.

“Many pet owners choose to euthanize their FIV-positive pets,” the vet explained. “What would you like to do?”

“I already suspected as much,” I replied. “That doesn’t surprise me. I intend to give Rocky all the love he can handle for as long as possible.”

With a freshly cleaned and shaved shoulder, antibiotics were prescribed for a newly neutered Rocky, and the rest is, as they say, history.

While it took a while for Rocky’s shoulder to heal, the fur eventually grew back without any lasting impact. A slow transition into my already two-cat household saw Leo and Rocky become best friends. I often wondered if they were long-lost cousins or even brothers, as their markings were similar, and they got along well.

Rocky didn’t know how to play when he first came inside – but once he learned, he taught Leo and Miss Kitty, my third cat, to wait patiently for our nightly routine of tossing the treats to whoever was “ready.” All it took was my asking, “Okay. Who’s ready?” for all three kitties to assemble in their designated locations to chase, block, and slide across the floor to catch and eat their goodies. The game became so indispensable to our nighttime routine that I had to explain it to my pet sitters. “If you don’t play ‘Ready,'” I insisted, “they’ll sit in their respective starting positions all night, just waiting for you to begin.”

Rocky and Leo were seldom far from each other’s sides over the past two years and often chased each other around the house in regular games of “Tag.” Best friends, if not brothers, to be sure.

It made me so happy to have Rocky jump into my lap, make kitty biscuits and lay down at regular intervals throughout the day. He loved popping his head up during Zoom meetings as I worked from home and consistently high-stepped ahead of me to wait for his dinner to be dispensed. Tail up, head high, he reminded me of a horse in a trotting race with his little black and white pajama markings swinging back and forth as he eagerly anticipated his thrice daily meals.

All that changed when Rocky became sick before my recent Samaritan’s Purse trip to Florida to assist with Hurricane Ian relief work. Regular vomiting ultimately became a diagnosis of intestinal cancer. When his mass disappeared after much prayer, medication, and lots of love, I truly believed God had given me a miracle.

A week later, a vet trip confirmed that Rocky was experiencing kidney failure. Still living up to his namesake, Rocky was a fighter with a heart of gold. His gentle, loving, energetic spirit never failed to charm anyone he met – even the workers in the animal hospital during his final visit. I didn’t want to let him go, but I knew the toxins in his body would eventually cause him to suffer, which I could never allow.

Rocky made my heart smile every day for two years and eight days. The joy he found in being loved changed his spirit and softened his heart even as it did mine.

There’s a part of me in such pain at losing him that I never want to love again. It’s too traumatic. And yet, God’s word tells us that “Above all, [we are to] love one another deeply.” (1 Peter 4:8). I believe that directive includes our animal friends, and I am more than happy to comply.

And yet love often includes heartache – as it did for me today. I take comfort in knowing there will come a time when all sadness, sickness, and death will be no more. How I long for that day. Revelation 21:4 promises, “He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”

Until then, I look forward to seeing all my dearly departed loved ones – including my dear fur babies – again. “Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care.” (Matthew 10:29)

How I miss my sweet Rocky’s contented presence. While I know his life was full of joy these past two years, it’s hard for me to quantify the happiness he brought me in return as he warmed my heart and lap each day.

I thank God for the blessing of Rocky’s unconditional love for as long as I had it.

May we all learn to live and love as adopted children of our heavenly Father just as our adopted fur babies demonstrate their trust and commitment to us.

I became a servant of this gospel by the gift of God’s grace given me through the working of his power. (Ephesians 3:7)

On the first night of my Samaritan’s Purse (SP) deployment in Fort Myers, FL, I shared my evening meal with five Beyond The Storm (BTS) team members. From my initial interaction with this group, clad in their matching black t-shirts with the BTS logo and Bible verses, I knew this team was exceptional.

One of their members, Ray, started talking to me as soon as he sat down, and I immediately felt I was no longer a stranger in a strange land but welcomed home by family. 

BTS is a disaster relief ministry based out of Seminole, FL. As partners with Samaritan’s Purse, BTS exists to “take the light and hope of Jesus Christ to those in need.” They arrive together in their ministry bus, serve as a team to prep homes for restoration work, and host their own Bible study sessions after the day’s work is complete. I was hooked by one meal and a single Bible study with the group. When they asked me to join them, I didn’t hesitate. After securing permission from SP leadership, I accompanied BTS on their Wednesday deployment. 

Wednesday was day two for BTS to complete demolition work in the home we were assigned to assist. The team’s lead, Ken, asked me to empty the kitchen cabinets while other team members finished their floorboard extraction, drywall cuts, and final clean-up. 

As I later ran a broom through the rooms, one of the young ladies began singing “Great is Thy Faithfulness,” to which the other women in the group and I joined in. Although the moment passed quickly, it reaffirmed my joy in serving alongside other passionate believers. 

While we completed our interior work, Ken moved next door to inquire if the homeowner would like help tarping his damaged roof. The British homeowner, Eric, initially seemed reluctant to accept assistance but eventually granted permission for our team to cover his roof and perform minor exterior debris removal. Hoping to help, I was advised that the situation was under control. I felt like the odd man out – being new, not entirely needed, and struggling to find something to do. 

After the first home was deemed clean, one of the BTS team members, Sarah, volunteered to spray the home’s wall joists with a mold inhibitor called ShockWave. During the chemical application, the rest of us vacated the house. We then moved next door to begin our next assignment. 

“Just walk the yard and pick up debris,” Ken told me. “The homeowner doesn’t really want us to do anything.” 

When I asked if I should remove a garbage bag near the front porch, Ken advised me to leave it alone since we weren’t explicitly asked to touch it. 

After dragging branches and boards to the curb, I began removing storm-blown items from the area near Eric’s front window, purposely allowing him to see what I was doing. While I was doing so, Ken brought Sarah over to spray ShockWave inside the owner’s home. 

“Eric agreed to our interior spray, but I need you to go in with her,” Ken said. “Just let the owner know that you’re there to help move anything she needs you to.” 

SP rules don’t allow women to be in one-on-one situations with men, so I understood the intent and was more than happy to comply. In fact, a conversation with the owner was precisely what I had been missing in the day’s labor. 

Upon entry, I announced my presence to Eric and advised him that I had come to help. Remembering that he was British, I asked Eric where he resided in the UK. After hearing his response, I explained that one of the executives I support in my workplace lives near Windsor, where Queen Elizabeth II had recently been buried. 

“Wasn’t the queen’s funeral incredible?” I asked Eric. “Watching it made me want to research the significance of all those who participated in the ceremony. Every action seemed symbolic.” Eric agreed and appeared to visibly warm at my connection to his country and queen. 

As we chatted further, I learned that Eric and his wife were in England when the storm hit. He later flew to the States to view the storm’s damage to their home. His wife chose to remain in the UK. “We’re not going to rebuild,” he explained. “We’ll just save what we can and sell the house ‘as is.’” 

After moving to the living room, Sarah asked me to move a few pieces of furniture to allow her better access to the walls. The first items I needed to bring out were nested tables. After picking them up, Eric commented that he needed to discard them. “I’ll put those out later,” he said. “I’m not keeping them.”

“I’ll be happy to take them outside for you now,” I told him. “Would you like me to do so?” 

“I don’t want to bother you,” came the reply. 

“It’s no bother at all,” I assured him. “That’s why we’re here – to help!” 

“Alright,” he agreed. 

“If there’s anything else you’d like me to remove, just let me know,” I advised Eric as I moved to the door.

“I think I’m okay,” came the reply.

I smiled and added the tables to the massive pile of debris extending the length of Eric’s lawn on both sides of his driveway. 

When I returned to the house, Eric had a contractor’s bag near the door where he was currently placing discards. “Are these items that you’d like to go out?” I inquired.

“Yes, they can go,” Eric said. 

“That’s great,” I replied. “Whatever you would like me to remove, please just let me know.” 

One bag, one item at a time, Eric consented to my removal of many additional possessions from his living room and kitchen. As other team members saw what I was doing, they came to help. “Can we go in?” they asked.

“Not just yet,” I explained. “The owner has just agreed for me to carry a few things out. Let’s see how he feels about others helping, as well.”

Returning inside, I asked Eric about the bag on the porch.

“Which one?” Eric replied. 

“Would you like to come outside, and see?” I asked. 

“Yes,” Eric said. “I need to know what you’re talking about.” 

Once he was outside, I asked Eric if we could help him remove anything from his garage, as the door was open. “Let me look,” he said. 

As he walked over, Sarah came outside and laid down her ShockWave spray pack. “What can I do?” she asked. 

The two of us joined Eric as he stood gazing into his garage. 

“If you’d like to just point to whatever you’d like us to remove, we’ll be happy to do so,” I explained. 

At this point, Eric walked to the back of his garage and began moving things around. “Well, this is ruined so it can go. And that rug must be trashed but it’s too heavy to move.” 

Turning around, I motioned for some of my male team members to help. “Not for them,” I said. “They can take it out for you. Right guys?” They agreed, each grabbing an end to carry the water-soaked rug to the street. 

One by one, item by item, my team and I slowly emptied almost everything from Eric’s garage.

While shuttling ruined personal effects to the curb, Ken asked if I’d signed Eric’s Bible. Thanking him for the reminder, I advised Eric that I needed to take care of something and would be right back. I then rushed to our truck to sign the Samaritan’s Purse Bible we give to every homeowner we help. 

After returning, I asked Eric if we could assist with anything further. 

“You’ve been a tremendous help,” he said. “I can take it from here.”

At that point, Ken returned with the signed Bible and asked our team to circle up in Eric’s driveway. 

“One of the things we like to do after helping homeowners is present you with a special Bible,” Ken explained. “Each of us have signed it to remind you of our purpose here in sharing God’s love.”

At that point, Eric opened the Bible to see our signatures and began paging through the interior. “My wife will love this,” he said, smiling. 

“We also want to pray with you,” Ken offered. 

“That would be great,” Eric replied. 

After holding hands and praying with Eric, several of our team members engaged with him more, asking about England and telling him we were happy to help. His initial reluctance to let us into his world was completely shattered at this point as he happily inquired about where we all lived and whether we’d ever visited the UK before. 

As we were leaving, Eric again reiterated how much he appreciated our help, noting that he’d enjoy telling his wife about our assistance when he talked to her later. 

After packing our supplies into our SP truck, our team loaded onto our bus and drove down the street to our next destination. Finding a dead-end, we looped around and drove past Eric’s house again to leave his community. 

Looking over to his house, I was delighted to see Eric standing in front of his home, waving demonstrably to our bus. The action made me laugh with joy to see this stoic man demonstrating such exuberant emotions as we drove by. God had allowed us to break through his barriers to let the love of Christ in.

As with my Good Samaritan Moe and the neighbors I met two days prior, only God knows whether any of our words or actions, performed in Christian love and faithfulness, will bring about a change in Eric’s heart to bring him closer to Christ. 

And that’s okay – because God’s the one in the life-changing business. Not me. As Christians, we’re only asked to be Christ’s hands and feet, showing His love and charity to all we encounter.

The rest is up to our heavenly Father. As Franklin Graham said in our SP orientation video, “God will use you in a powerful way to make an eternal difference.” 

May it be so, Lord. Every day. In every possible way.

Hear my prayer, Lord, listen to my cry for help; do not be deaf to my weeping.
I dwell with you as a foreigner, a stranger, as all my ancestors were. (Psalm 39:12)

On day two of our Hurricane Ian relief mission in Fort Myers, FL, our Samaritan’s Purse team was deployed to the home of Mary and Isaiah. Isaiah pastored a small family-style church that met in the homes of various congregants. Both he and Mary believed in the providence of God, and their smiling testimony was readily apparent to everyone who worked in their home.   

By all outward appearances, the houses in Mary and Isaiah’s community survived the hurricane unscathed. After all, minimal wind damage was sustained in this particular neighborhood.

However, the massive debris piles that lined this community’s streets told a different story and warned that things aren’t always how they seem.

Water is a formidable opponent. While only a few trees were toppled and structural damage was not immediately evident from the road, Ian’s eight-foot storm surge decimated nearly all the property in homes near the Caloosahatchee River in North Fort Myers.   

Mary began to cry with gratitude as we gathered for our initial circle-up prayer time with her and her husband. I immediately crossed to her to offer a hug, take her and Isaiah’s hands, and tell them that God sent us to help them. “You are not alone,” I said. “Help is not just on the way – it’s here. We are here to remind you that you’re not alone.”   

After praying with Isaiah and Mary, our team began ripping out floors in their guest bedroom. Our original plan was to move anything salvageable to this room while we worked on gutting the remainder of their home. The removal of the first floorboard in this space proved this plan unsustainable.   

Below the wood, four inches of standing water remained 12 days after the flood – the perfect breeding ground for mold to grow in this extensively damaged home. Our new plan was to slice and discard the plastic under the floors, allow the standing water to drain out, remove all doors and appliances, and extricate four feet of drywall – from the foundation up – to prepare the house for eventual restoration.   

While moving recoverable property, I noticed a large canvas print on the wall near the homeowner’s front door. I immediately recognized it as a replica of one I had purchased three years ago. The image depicts the front porch of a seaside dwelling with two oars and a pair of white tennis shoes resting outside the front door.   

I’ve always loved my print. I used to stare at it while I ate my dinner, feeling as if it was a promise of things to come. I will live by the sea one day, I told myself. God will take me there.   

I pulled Mary aside at the first opportunity to convey my thoughts regarding our shared canvas.  

“I have this exact same print in my home,” I told her. “I purchased it three years ago with the hope that I would one day live by the ocean. When I saw your canvas, I could only stop and smile. God knew when I bought my print that I would be here today, standing in your home to help you. I just had to answer His call to get here. We share not just the same print but the same Almighty God. Not one detail of our lives goes unnoticed. He’s in control of everything!” That thought made Mary and me both smile in agreement.   

When our team leader later advised us to take a lunch break, I insisted that Mary share my sandwich and snacks. “It’s my blessing to share,” I told her. “Don’t deprive me of my blessing!” She graciously accepted.  

While we sat laughing and chatting together on folding chairs in her front yard, my new friend told me about a song she remembered her mother singing about a stranger and a pilgrim.   

“How does it go, Mary?” I asked her. “I’ve never heard it.”   

At my invitation, Mary began singing what she remembered of the lyrics as a few of my team members came over to join us. I found the song on YouTube so we could all listen and appreciate the words that were so perfect for our situation.   

“I’m a pilgrim and a stranger, traveling through this wearisome land. I’ve got a home in yonder city (good Lord), and it’s not made by hand.” (Johnny Cash)  

After singing this song, Mary told me how she and her husband had been living in a friend’s spare room since Hurricane Ian hit.   

“My mother always told me to never wear out my welcome,” Mary recounted. “So, after church last Sunday, we told our friends that we were going to find our own meal and give them a break.”

“While we were out,” Mary explained, “I got a phone call from another friend. ‘Mary,’ she said. ‘I found you a place to stay in a condo that belongs to a co-worker. It’ll just be the two of you. You can stay there for a few months.’” 

To this, Mary’s face broke into an even wider grin as she showed me pictures of the peaceful respite God provided to this faithful couple in their precise hour of need.   

“That’s God’s grace,” I told her. “He will always take care of you!”   

At the end of the day, we were all touched by Isaiah and Mary’s faith. What started as a house filled with amassed belongings, water-logged floors, and monumental debris ended as nothing short of a miracle. Through God’s provision, our team of eight quadrupled when a busload of 24 workers from Miami showed up to help in whatever manner we needed them.   

As it turns out, those extra hands and feet were needed by a pilgrim and a stranger that God united through a painting and a shared love of Christ to conquer adversity with a remembered promise. Our real home, God assures us, isn’t made by men’s hands.   

After many hugs, tears, and the gift of a Bible inscribed with the good wishes penned by 32-sets of hands, Mary and Isaiah were encouraged by God to keep moving ahead through faith and trust in Christ. 

While our new friends were fortified by the workers who helped them with their damaged home, Isaiah and Mary strengthened all the volunteers by serving as living reminders that we should always walk by faith rather than sight. After all, we are just pilgrims and strangers – united by Christ and filled with love – traveling through this strange and lovely land.   

You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you. (Isaiah 26:3) 

On the afternoon of the first day of my Hurricane Ian relief deployment in Fort Myers, FL, my fellow Samaritan’s Purse team members and I were sent to another mobile home park in the Iona neighborhood. Like the one I detailed in my last post, this park suffered massive damage from the storm. The rising storm surge ruined what wasn’t wrecked by the winds. Few, if any, homes were spared from the ensuing chaos.   

Like before, rubble lined the streets of this hard-hit community. Unanchored mobile homes were turned on their sides by wind and water. Many anchored homes were split wide-open as if by a giant can opener, allowing passers-by to view straight into disheveled kitchens, living, and sleeping quarters. A pontoon boat stood smashed against one home that had been pushed off its foundation. A minivan rested nose-down in an adjoining lake – its bumper and muffler strewn behind its final destination when waters receded. Another vehicle remained against a lakeside pavilion with the front window smashed in – evidencing the impact of hitting the structure. Everywhere you looked, destruction was evident.   

The homeowner who had requested help was not quite ready for us to assist him when we arrived. Much of his personal belongings remained inside. Emotionally distraught, he only allowed two of our SP workers to enter his home to assess the damage. One of those individuals had opened the homeowner’s refrigerator only to be greeted by such a foul-smelling odor that she ran from the house gagging. Power had been off for 11 days at that point, and the owner hadn’t emptied anything from his fridge. When I entered to help, I wore a mask with Vicks VapoRub on my upper lip to shield me from the remaining odors in the home.   

Even with a crawl space to elevate his house 8-steps up from the street, the floors still had standing water that had to be pushed and shoveled out. After all the appliances were removed – including the fridge, which was now safely duct-taped shut – the drywall needed to be cut 4-feet up from the floor and removed. Before we could complete this work, the owner still had to decide what personal belongings he wanted us to take to his rented storage pod versus what he wanted us to discard. It was a slow process.  

While the owner was making these decisions, I walked next door to talk to the neighbors. The owner there had told me he had just purchased his motor home – sight unseen – on August 23rd. The property where he hoped to spend the winter months was now in ruins. When I asked whether he had flood insurance, he told me he couldn’t insure the house as it was over 20 years old.   

A vehicle rested in front of his home, covered with debris. I commented on the same. “I can see the water inside your car,” I said. “That’s horrible.”   

“That’s not my car,” the homeowner told me. “It floated here.”   

While I was astounded at this revelation, I could believe it after seeing all the wreckage in his neighborhood.   

“Let us know if we can help you,” I told the neighbor, Bob, who came out to introduce himself and his brother-in-law, who was helping him clean out the house.   

“I appreciate that,” Bob said smiling, “but we’re good!”  

That’s when I heard the music emanating from this man’s home. Beautiful music. Christian music. As Mark Schultz sang the lyrics to “I am,” I smiled, too. “I can hear you have the right music on to help you.” Bob agreed.   

“I’ll be praying for you!” I told him. “Never forget that you’re not alone.”  

We chatted for a bit longer before I returned to wait at the original house we had come to help. Our team leader returned to our SP box truck while waiting for permission to enter and do more. Most of our team was lingering outside, just itching to put their hands to work in service for our Savior. As the owner still wasn’t ready for us to enter, I walked back to my car to get my water bottle.   

While returning, something caught my eye, and I looked down to examine it. There, amidst all the chaos, heartache, and uncertainty, a 5-inch painted stone gently nestled against a driveway with the word “Peace” emblazoned upon it. I could only smile at God’s perfect timing, directing me to this message.   

With cars and boats floating down the street in the middle of the storm, I wondered at the rock’s location. There were only three possible explanations, I thought.   

1. The stone had always been there.   

2. The rock had floated there in the storm surge and rested in this location.  

3. Someone had placed the stone there as a blessing.   

When our chaplains arrived, I showed them the rock and commented on how God’s hand of peace presides over everything – even the havoc of a hurricane. The sun was shining, and God had placed us there to help. What could be more reassuring than that?   

The remainder of the day proved to be a hubbub of activity as we helped this homeowner move to the next phase of his recovery. As we clasped hands with him to bring tranquility to the trauma, I remembered the stone. It doesn’t matter how it got there, I thought. What matters is the message God sent me in finding it – and to all the others who will stop, look down, and see our Creator’s silent reassurance in the coming days.   

Our heavenly Father can bring beauty from ashes, peace to pandemonium, and smiles to homeowners who may have lost everything but still remember that God is the great “I Am.”  

 The presence of so many SP volunteers ready to help the hurting souls in this community proved the validity of that statement. I will never forget the privilege my heavenly Father granted me to witness and be part of the same. 

And he answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself.” (Luke 10:27) 

While the Peace Corps may say theirs is the toughest job you’ll ever love, I beg to differ. I think that description belongs to Samaritan’s Purse (SP) work.

A little over a week ago, I had the privilege of suiting up, with a few others, to enter a muddy crawl space in 90-degree temps to cut plastic and extract water-soaked subfloor insulation from a storm-damaged home. Additional team members cut and removed drywall above me to gut a house of damage caused by #HurricaneIan. I loved every moment of it! The blessings were unquantifiable.   

On my first official service day, our team was deployed to a hard-hit mobile home park in Fort Myers, FL. Several members of my team had begun working in the home the day before I arrived. We hoped to complete the water-damaged extraction that morning and move to assist another needy homeowner in the afternoon. While I had seen many debris piles along the roads, this was my first chance to walk around and talk to those who had lived through the storm.   

As a relational person, I was encouraged to hear SP leaders tell us to seize every opportunity to remind homeowners and neighbors that God loves them and sent us to help. While I wanted to do the physical work, I was even more excited about being given a directive to share our Creator’s love. That’s why I’m here, I thought. Send me! It didn’t take long for God to place my first connection opportunity before me.  

While preparing to enter the crawl space, I looked over to an adjoining property and spotted a shirtless man brushing his hair while standing outside his home. I waved to him and was greeted by a friendly “Happy Monday” in return. That was enough of an invitation to walk over and introduce myself.   

Moe lived in the concrete garage of a connected mobile home. All around us stood piles of debris – along with a 4.5-foot carved bear. After introducing myself and learning Moe’s name, I commented that I loved his bear. Moe told me it wasn’t his. “It floated here,” he said, smiling.   

“What?” I replied incredulously. “Really? Were you here when the storm hit?”   

Over the next ten minutes, Moe told me his story.   

Everyone thought the storm was going to Tampa, as that’s what all the forecasts predicted. Moe had lived through minor flooding three times before, he explained. He wasn’t worried. The most his home had ever flooded previously was 18-inches. He’d be fine. He wasn’t concerned. He told me he was a veteran and had lived through worse situations.   

And then the waters came.   

When the storm surge reached Moe’s waist, he knew he needed to get himself, his cat, and his neighbors, Bo and Buck, to higher ground. The only thing higher was their landlord’s, Keith’s, mobile home with a crawl space beneath it and steps leading up. Up is good when the waters are rising. The house he was referring to is the one our team was working on.   

Moe wrapped his cat in a towel “to keep him from clawing me to death,” placed him on his shoulder, and forced his way through the increasing current to Keith’s home. After seeing his kitty safe inside, Moe returned for Bo and Buck.   

“Bo was okay,” Moe explained, “but Buck had a heart condition and weighed about 240-lbs. He told us he couldn’t make it and said we should just leave him. I wasn’t going to do that.”   

Moe tried placing his kayak’s life vest on Buck, but it wouldn’t fit. Not one to give up easily, he decided to check a boat sitting on a trailer near Keith’s home for something else to help. He found a towline inside, grabbed it, and returned for Buck.   

“Bo and I tied the rope around Buck, then pushed our way through the current and back to Keith’s house,” Moe explained. “The current was strong by then, but we were able to pull him through.”   

Moe showed me the water line in his home. The brackish floodwaters rose to 7.5-feet high – more than enough to drown cars, animals, and people – which it did.

“You saved his life,” I told Moe. “You were a true Good Samaritan.”

I asked my new friend if he knew the parable that Jesus told.   

“I may have heard it back when I sang in the choir as a youngster,” Moe laughed. “Now I’m sure you need to get back to work.”   

Sensing his desire to end our discussion, I told my new friend that we would be happy to help him if he needed us. He declined, showing me how he’d already gutted his home. I returned to my project but couldn’t stop thinking about Moe’s story.   

After our lunch break, I spotted Moe again and rushed back to speak to him. “I want to make sure you know the story of the Good Samaritan,” I implored. “Let me tell it to you.”   

Jesus said: “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho when he was attacked by robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. 31 A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. 32 So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. 33 But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. 34 He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. 35 The next day he took out two denarii[c] and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’  

36 “Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?”  

37 The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.”  

Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.”

(Luke 10:30-37)

After paraphrasing Jesus’ parable, I explained to Moe that he, like the Good Samaritan in the story, showed great love and compassion to his neighbor – refusing to let anything happen to him and risking his own life to save Buck.   

“Like Samaritan’s Purse,” I explained as I pointed to my shirt, “God had a purpose for you being where you were at the right time to help your neighbors. God saved you so you could save others. You are a real ‘Good Samaritan,’ and I know God has great things in store for you!”   

Moe and I chatted a while longer, and when the SP chaplains arrived later, I sent them over to talk to him further. While Moe didn’t make a confession of faith during our time together, there’s no telling what seeds we planted in his heart and mind that God may convert into his eventual salvation story.   

I spoke to other neighbors that day and learned more about the trauma this community faced. A couple sitting across the street from where we worked didn’t own the house where they were sitting. Their home was destroyed. They were only resting on the porch, watching and waiting for us to complete the work in Keith’s home so they could sleep inside that night. Although we had gutted the house of its flooring, cabinetry, interior doors, and drywall up to 4-feet high, Keith’s elevated property was the only one around that still had a bed, running water, and a flushable toilet.

This couple had been living in their car with their large dog for 11 days since the storm hit. They told me they couldn’t wait to sleep in a bed again. Although I never met Keith, I know that he, too, had proved himself a Good Samaritan – not just to Moe, Bob, and Buck during the storm, but also to this husband and wife during their time of need in the weeks thereafter.

The relief work performed by Samaritan’s Purse volunteers saves homeowners tens of thousands of dollars after natural disasters. More importantly, every homeowner is loved and assisted by volunteers who are passionate about God and dedicated to His service.

Upon completion of all demolition work, homeowners receive a unique leatherbound Samaritan’s Purse copy of the Holy Scripture. We pray over homeowners when we arrive, holding hands and asking God to safeguard all those volunteering in His service.

We pray again at our work’s completion, presenting the Bible to the homeowners that God allowed us to assist. All volunteers sign this gift before the presentation – leaving a lasting reminder of God’s blessings and provision from all those whose hands served Christ in service of these homes.

This 365-degree approach doesn’t just tell homeowners they are loved. SP’s work demonstrates Christ’s love in action through the hands and feet of volunteers from all over the country. This service has the incredible power to encourage those who desperately need hope to move forward. My Good Samaritan, Moe, made a life-changing difference to his neighbors, Bo and Buck. Keith was doing the same. And by following God’s direction, He allowed me to share love, compassion, and grace with a hurting community for His glory.

All it takes is a willing heart to make an eternal difference in the world. We are surrounded by neighbors who need to feel Christ’s love. I can’t wait to do so again!  

Join Good Samaritan Moe and Samaritan’s Purse and contribute to this God-ordained work by following this link. I can attest firsthand to the difference this group is making by bringing help and hope to those in need.   

Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?” And I said, “Here am I. Send me!” (Isaiah 6:8) 

In my last post, Sleep in the storm, I wrote about how God had spared my area from the wrath of Hurricane Ian. I felt so blessed to be saved from any potential home damage that I wanted to do something to help those who were not as fortunate.   

That’s when the first email from the Billy Graham Evangelism Association hit my inbox. “Deploying the love of Christ to Florida,” the subtitle began. “A Category 4 hurricane that produced a ‘500-year flood’ has left millions of Floridians without power and many without hope.”  

“To help minister to those impacted most,” the mailing continued, “the Billy Graham Rapid Response Team is deploying 20 chaplains to multiple locations in southwest Florida. Their mission: To let them know God has not abandoned them.”  

Ever since I learned about the existence of the BG Rapid Response Team, I’ve felt called to be a chaplain. As a relational person who gravitates to the hurting, this ministry seemed tailor-made for my evangelical beliefs and deep compassion. I’ve kept my eyes on the Samaritan’s Purse (SP) website ever since. I’ve always wanted to assist SP with disaster relief work. Could God have spared me and my home so I could help in such a time as this?   

In checking the SP website, I learned that volunteer opportunities to support hurricane relief work would soon be posted. My mind began moving ahead to the possibility of action. My workplace provides time for staff to volunteer each year. Perhaps I could use those hours in this service. After investigation, I discovered that I had 12 volunteer hours to use for the journey. There were no limits on what organization I could utilize these hours for. Obstacle #1, triumphed.   

I began seriously considering the trip on my birthday. What better way could I celebrate this day than by using my life to serve others? After researching potential relief site locations, I learned that a trip to Fort Myers – the hardest hit FL city – would take me approximately 7-8 driving hours. I can do that, I thought. Obstacle #2, overcome.   

My next challenge was in finding a pet sitter. I’d been looking for over a year, but the rates were so high that I despaired of finding one I could afford. I contacted several, and nothing was coming together.   

Did I really want to drive 7 hours to sleep on an air mattress with total strangers after performing hard labor all day? I wondered. The idea didn’t sound very appealing. Could I even get time off from work on short notice?   

The challenges were mounting up. I could think of countless reasons why such a concept seemed crazy. And yet, I felt compelled to go. In my innermost being, a deep longing existed – telling me that I needed to make this trip. I could feel my heart rate increase at the concept. The idea made me happy.   

Lord, I prayed, if this is Your will, You know the obstacles I am facing. If you want me to go, You’ll have to help me. Clear the way.  

That’s when I found The Pet Nanny. I’d consistently checked my NextDoor app for pet sitters in the area but never saw this business before. I texted the posted number, asking the sitter for her rates. Miraculously, they were exactly what I was hoping for and could afford. Best of all, the Pet Nanny could help me with just a few days’ notice. “You are a God-send,” I told her. “I prayed for God to help me if he wanted me to go on this trip, and that’s when I found you.” Obstacle #3, surmounted.   

The next day, I asked my boss if I could take three and a half days off the following week. I didn’t want to push it. He agreed. Obstacle #4, conquered.   

After that, I began researching cots versus air mattresses and wondered if I could even acquire such a thing on short notice. I found a cot that seemed perfect for me and ordered it. Delivery would come one day before my trip began. Obstacle #5, cleared.  

This was really happening! I could hardly believe it! What started as a simple act of praise for being spared from the storm became a mission trip in just a matter of days. I was more than thrilled to sign SP’s statement of faith, consent to a background check, and begin my preparations. God was taking me on a journey.   

Moving one step further in faith, I boldly used the notification of my trip to send a message to others I work with, announcing my upcoming absence. I included a link in my mailing to the SP Hurricane Ian response site, advising all those I work with that I would perform this service in Jesus’ name.   

The SP website is unabashedly evangelical. I had previously been cautious about announcing my faith in such a woke environment – but no more. Anyone curious about what I was doing or who I was doing it for would have no doubts after visiting the SP website.   

As Samaritan’s Purse President Franklin Graham stated, “The damage is incredible. These people need our prayers and our support. We’re going to need an army of volunteers. Prayerfully consider joining us to help in Jesus’ Name.”  

And that’s precisely what I did! If I’m going, I thought, I want to use this opportunity to testify both in my workplace and in Florida. As I wrote in my Silent No More blog, my days of hiding my faith at work are long gone. As co-workers responded to my mailing, I was more than happy to turn any praise of my service back to my Creator. “This is my opportunity to show the love of God to others who are hurting,” I explained. There can no longer be any doubt of my where my faith rests.   

Thereafter, what began as a three-and-a-half-day trip to Florida became five days of being used by my Savior to sweat more, get dirtier, and work harder than I ever could have imagined – all in the name of Jesus.   

And so began a trip that has changed my heart and soul forever. The spiritual work God allowed me to perform was more important than the physical labor I expended. SP encouraged me to do what I was created for – show love by offering encouragement and support in Jesus’ name. “Every house has a task and a job,” one of our leaders explained. “The task is the house. The job is the homeowner. Share the love of God with them.”   

Every home we visited afforded me a new opportunity to do so. I took it upon myself to complete my task – but more importantly – my job every day. I purposely sought out connections with homeowners, neighbors, and community members wherever we were deployed. God led me to them and gave me the words to say.   

But the blessings didn’t stop there. From the moment I arrived at the SP base camp in Fort Myers, FL, I began talking to Rapid Response Team (RRT) Chaplains. “How did you become a chaplain?” I asked the first one I encountered as she walked me to my shared room. Of course, the next person to join me there was an RRT member. God was determined to surround me with them, so He sent two more to bunk with me. Every day, I sought out and questioned every RRT chaplain I met to ask about their service.   

On day two, two RRT members, Tommi and Paula, prayed over me after hearing how I spoke to all the neighbors. “You should be a chaplain,” Paula declared. I just laughed and told them of my aspirations. At the conclusion of Paula’s prayer, Tommi said, “It’s a done deal. You’ve already begun your journey.” I could only smile, thank her, and pray that her prophecy would come true.   

And so, my mission began. The lessons I learned and the experiences God gave me will take weeks to detail.   

For now, I end with this thought. If you feel led to follow God on a difficult journey outside your comfort zone, to a place far from home, with unquantifiable obstacles, go. Don’t question the prompting. I can fully affirm the grace, provision, and blessings that will follow if you are only willing to say these five simple words: Here am I. Send me! 

You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you. (Isaiah 26: 3) 

A week ago, I began preparing for what many in the media were calling the “Storm of the Century.” Hurricane Ian was forecast to hit Florida’s Tampa Bay area as a category 3 storm, with winds of up to 129 mph or more. After rampaging through FL, storm models showed it heading straight to the coastal region of GA, where I live. With predicted wind gusts of 65 mph through my town, I wasn’t going to take any chances.   

Over the course of several days, I removed all lightweight yard ornamentation – including solar lights, yard decorations, and flags. As hurricane trackers upgraded the storm to a category 4 – with sustained winds of 155 mph – I pulled the shepherd’s hooks from my yard that were holding windchimes and plants. I even laid down my concrete bird bath and blue heron statue. Could winds like that knock down concrete? I didn’t know, and I didn’t want to find out.   

Power outages were expected, so I prepared macaroni salad and egg salad to be eaten cold, if necessary. I recharged all my batteries, got out my battery-operated lantern and weather radio, and began filling jugs of water in anticipation of public water being shut down in the aftermath of the storm. I cleared my screen porch of furniture and knew I couldn’t do anything more – except pray.   

One of my friends advised me to leave. “Nope,” I said. “I’ve evacuated before. I’m staying. God is in control.”   

My boss told me to stay safe. “I’ve done everything I can,” I replied. “I have no fear. It’s in God’s hands.”   

Two days before Ian was expected to make landfall, I photographed the 6-foot-tall canna lilies in my yard with a spectacular sunset behind them. My soul was at peace. Our Creator’s hand is on the weather. I trust Him implicitly.   

And then the winds came. Ian hit Florida with a vengeance – packing 155 mph winds and bringing storm surge and rains that flooded areas from the west coast near Sanibel Island to central Orlando. Homes were swept off their foundations. Palm trees were uprooted. Buildings collapsed as wind, rain, and stormwater swept in from the Gulf and over anything in its path.   

When the storm’s outer bands first hit my area, the 55-mph wind gusts were bending trees and causing general havoc. My power was still on when I went to bed, but I suspected it would be a rough night. I was wrong. I heard nothing overnight and slept like a baby, scarcely remembering that a hurricane was nearing my doorstep.   

When I awakened the following day, I was shocked at the change in the weather. A 20-degree temperature drop was ushered in as the winds continued to hit the coast near me. More importantly, Ian had taken a dramatic turn, moving out to sea through the night. My area would be spared. What’s more, previous forecasts predicted 6-8″ of rain. We received nothing but a gentle watering of less than a quarter inch.   

Some might say Georgians were “lucky.” I know better. We were blessed by the hand of God. Other areas – especially hard-hit Fort Myers, FL – were not so fortunate. With a current death toll of 77 persons in FL and NC, anything could have happened here in GA. We could have been pummeled, but we weren’t. I could have lost everything as others did. Instead, everything I own was spared. I didn’t just sleep through the hurricane; I was protected through it.   

Jesus helped me sleep in the storm.   

Note: The Billy Graham Rapid Response Team has already deployed crisis chaplains to Florida to help residents cope with the devastation that hit their state. Samaritan’s Purse has sent tractor-trailer loads of supplies and equipment to help areas that were hardest hit by the hurricane. Volunteers are working to assist with mudding out houses, tarping roofs, and sharing God’s love through their hands and feet. Please consider donating to help Samaritan’s Purse assist those in need as they recover from the devastating effects of this massive storm.   

But for the grace of God go I – and you.   

In the first part of this series, I discovered that both my local Lutheran church and the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America (ELCA) advocate for full inclusion of the LGBTQ+ community in “Pride” events and church leadership. In part two, I discussed the current trend for churches to declare abortion as a “religious freedom” – even going so far as to bring lawsuits against states that are now banning the practice. What’s next? A pentagram placed next to the cross?  

For one Texas church, that concept came close to becoming a reality.  

The First Christian Church (FCC-Disciples of Christ) in Katy, TX, recently promoted their “Drag Bingo” night as a family-friendly event – with an adults-only show occurring at 8:00 pm on September 24. While such an event was already controversial, media outlets soon revealed further details that made the offering all the more disturbing. One of the performers hired by the church, Jaysen Kettl, was convicted in 2004 of planning a school shooting.  

At age 17, Kettl pled guilty to conspiracy to commit murder at Vidor High School. Legal records evidence Kettl’s violent tendencies as he and another student planned to enact torture by “nailing people’s hands to a table, chaining them to trees – before they killed certain people.”  

A recent review of Kettl’s social media accounts shows his continued penchant for evil practices. In one photo, Kettl is pictured holding a red skull, wearing pentagram earrings and a t-shirt with a Baphomet image surrounded by a pentagram. Baphomet is a created deity allegedly worshipped by the Knights Templar and later used in occult practices.   

Rather than cancel the event when word of Kettl’s background spread nationwide, FCC Katy simply replaced Kettyl and continued their affair without missing a beat. Drag Bingo was sold-out, after all, and the “show must go on!”  

By selling $20 Bingo cards and $400 tables, Drag Bingo was not just a social event meant to bring community members together. FCC Katy is not shy in promoting their “intentionally progressive” church agenda – and this event was no exception. Proceeds from the show will be used to sponsor FCC’s “TRANSparent Closet” as part of their LGBTQ+ ministry. FCC describes the TRANSparent Closet as a “FREE clothing boutique designed for trans and exploring teens, youth, and young adults to have a safe place for clothing needs and beyond.”  

Rather than support impressionable youth in further developing their Christian faith, FCC Katy wants to provide “undergarments, style accessories, makeup, and more.” Per the church website, “We would love to host you and have one of our stylist help select just the right things for you. ” 

Make no mistake. This “boutique” is not a thrift shop for the impoverished but rather a church-sponsored gateway to confuse and misguide innocent youth into practices that take them further away from God.  

I can’t help but ask, whatever happened to bowling nights and youth group meetings for young people to learn more about how to become true “disciples of Christ”? Instead of potluck suppers, this so-called “Christian” church features photos from their booth sponsorship at the “Pride Festival.”

Lest anyone suspect that this ministry exists to save lost souls, one need only gaze at their tent – adorned in rainbow flags, pencils, and a “Love is love” banner – to know that talking about Christ is the farthest thing from this so-called religious intuition’s agenda. One might never suspect the booth belonged to a church were it not for the FCC sign, which proclaims it to be “Radically welcoming. Intentionally progressive” – with not a cross in sight.  

Further investigation reveals that FCC’s “Minister of LGBTQ+ Ministries and Social Media” is openly gay. He even writes a blog entitled “Gay by the grace of God” about being – you guessed it – a “gay seminarian.” If I could ask this leader one question, it would be for him to show me where the Bible says that God gives grace for someone to follow an unGodly lifestyle. Our Creator provides us with grace to cover our sins – even though we don’t deserve it – not continue them. I think this statement alone disavows the title and “calling” of this would-be seminarian.

Knowing where to begin to unpack all the above information is difficult. As a devout Christian who believes in the unerring word of God, I find it hard to stomach all the ways that today’s churches have descended into the sins of pride, perversion, and popularity.  

While I understand the penchant to be inclusive and accepting, Christians should never give up the unique attributes that separate us from the rest of our culture. The Apostle Paul provided this admonition to the Ephesians: “Having lost all sensitivity, they have given themselves over to sensuality so as to indulge in every kind of impurity, and they are full of greed. That, however, is not the way of life you learned when you heard about Christ and were taught in him in accordance with the truth that is in Jesus. You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness.” (Chapter 4: 19-24)

How then, one must ask, can it be acceptable for a church leader to be living a lifestyle that affirms sensuality and impurity? Scripture clearly tells us that it’s impossible to follow both fleshly and spiritual desires. How can a church affirm, endorse, and – worse yet – bring impurity into its own halls as a form of entertainment and still call itself a church? More so, how can a church claim to be Christian while promoting an ideology that corrupts children by removing their innocence?

Paul takes this further: “But among you, there must not be even a hint of sexual immorality, or of any kind of impurity, or of greed, because these are improper for God’s holy people. Nor should there be obscenity, foolish talk, or coarse joking, which are out of place but rather thanksgiving. For of this, you can be sure: No immoral, impure, or greedy person—such a person is an idolater—has any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God. Let no one deceive you with empty words, for because of such things God’s wrath comes on those who are disobedient. Therefore do not be partners with them.”

Christians are not called to “embrace diversity” to earn acceptance by the masses. Nor should our purpose on earth be to simply “enjoy life.” And yet, these principles are featured prominently as part of the mission of FCC Katy – as I suspect they are at many other “Woke” churches. The concept of serving God in faithfulness and purity seems to be gone from these religious institutions. If they want to become “Do-gooder” clubs where everything is acceptable, they should call themselves that to end the confusion and degradation of the gospel. Such concepts are not what Christianity is all about.

Christians are admonished to preach the gospel of Christ – which teaches that we must first accept that “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” (Romans 3:23) If we don’t believe ourselves to be sinners in need of a Savior, we are then free to elevate ourselves, our “good deeds,” and yes, even our acceptance of anything and everything in the world as more desirable than following the will of God. If there is no sin and everything is acceptable, why would we need Jesus? Does the sacrificial blood of Christ mean nothing to these churches? How can they call themselves “Christian” without understanding the purpose of Christ?  

Scripture tells us to come out of the world – not become part of it. Matthew 5:13 tells us, “You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot.”  

I go into great detail about how Christians are told to leave their sinful nature behind in my blog about the church’s blanket acceptance of LGBTQ+ principles. In short, God does welcome everyone into His family – if we will acknowledge our sins, accept Christ as our Savior, and ask Him to make us a new creation. 

Furthermore, Jesus did not tell everyone to keep sinning. As Christ admonished the woman caught in adultery, “Go now and leave your life of sin.” (John 8:11) 

Both the Old and New Testaments warn against homosexuality and sexual perversion.  

• “‘Do not have sexual relations with a man as one does with a woman; that is detestable.” (Leviticus 18:22) 
• “‘If a man has sexual relations with a man as one does with a woman, both of them have done what is detestable.” (Leviticus 20:13) 
• “Or do you not know that wrongdoers will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived: Neither the sexually immoral nor idolaters nor adulterers nor men who have sex with men nor thieves nor the greedy nor drunkards nor slanderers nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God.” (1 Corinthians 6: 9-10) 
• “Marriage should be honored by all, and the marriage bed kept pure, for God will judge the adulterer and all the sexually immoral.” (Hebrews 13:4) 

For a church to speak differently is to blaspheme the word of God. For a church to call itself Christian while refusing to call sin “sin” must break the heart of our Creator.  

We serve a divine Father who sees all and has infinite patience with us. John 3:17 tells us, “God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through Him.” 

Nevertheless, salvation is not a cloak we can place over ourselves on Sunday and take off while sinning on Monday. We must follow our Savior every day and put God above ourselves. Proclaiming that we are Christians while clinging to our sins is the ultimate hypocrisy. Refusing to give up our worldly ways exemplifies our lack of understanding of God’s gift of eternal life.

“You who take oaths in the name of the Lord and invoke the God of Israel – but not in truth or righteousness – you who call yourselves citizens of the holy city and claim to rely on the God of Israel – the Lord Almighty is His name. You have neither heard nor understood; from of old your ears have not been open.” (Isaiah 48:1-2)  

While God is patient with our sinful ways, there will come a day when His patience will end. Ultimately, each of us will have to stand in judgment before our Creator. Either we will claim the blood of Christ that covers all our sins, or we will learn that our refusal to accept Jesus as our Savior will separate us from Him for all eternity.  

“For My own name’s sake, I delay my wrath; for the sake of My praise, I hold it back from you, so as not to destroy you completely. For My own sake, for My own sake, I do this. How can I let myself be defamed? I will not yield my glory to another.” (Isaiah 49: 9,11) 

We forget the sovereignty of God when we worry about the praise of man. We serve a holy and just Creator. He gave us the Bible as the guidebook for our lives. To skip over the parts of the Bible that we don’t like is to forget that we are made by and must one day answer to Him.  

“I am the Lord, and there is no other. I form the light and create darkness, I bring prosperity and create disaster; I, the Lord, do all these things.” (Isaiah 45:6-7) 

Today’s Woke church needs to wake up. Churches that lead people astray, gloss over sin, destroy the innocence of children, teach affirmation rather than sacrifice, idolatry over divinity, and pleasure over piety will one day learn how very wrong they were.  

I am no saint, nor do I fault anyone else for their sins. Rather, I thank God daily for my forgiveness while asking Him to help me to do better, to serve Him more fully – with my entire being. I can’t do that by elevating my wishes over His.  

I pray that today’s churches will see their folly in seeking the popularity of people rather than the sovereignty of our Savior.  

“As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.” (Joshua 24:15)

For I am not ashamed of the gospel, because it is the power of God that brings salvation to everyone who believes. (Romans 1:16) 

In early August, I participated in a virtual department meeting that changed my mindset in an irrevocable manner – not for what was shared but for an image that was seared into my head during this extraordinary session.   

As a remote employee, I enjoy scrolling through live connections with my fellow team members to see who participates in the Zoom calls and what types of backgrounds they may use. Most people blur their environments, some show their home offices, and still others – like me – use favorite landscape photos as their backdrops. You can tell a lot about a person from what type of background they utilize in such an environment.   

In this particular instance, what started as usual soon altered to become one of the bravest acts of faith I’ve ever seen in the workplace.   

While waiting for the last few stragglers to join our meeting, one of my team members pointedly stated that he had forgotten to add his new background. His screen blipped for a minute while he uploaded the image – and then the world tilted on its access.   

An illustration of a cross stood boldly illuminated behind my team member’s headphoned profile. I was stunned. Without saying a word, this unspoken profession of faith in Jesus Christ spoke volumes in a company where liberal policy abounds and alternate lifestyles are celebrated at every opportunity. I could hardly believe what I was seeing. I took a photo with my phone to remember forever and celebrate this public declaration of faith.   

While the meeting proceeded without missing a beat, the moment that image took shape will forever change how I feel in the workplace.  

I’ve been indoctrinated for many years now – steadily watching the propaganda machine tell me that I should laud ideals in opposition to my faith. While I will never do so, like many other Christians, I have learned to watch what I say and do in the workplace to avoid offending and being sent to HR. I’ve been subjected to training asking me how I would react to men using the women’s bathroom. I’ve been asked to choose the correct multiple-choice answer on how I would treat a male co-worker who has decided to dress in women’s clothing. And I’ve been asked to celebrate images of team members marching in Pride events with their rainbow-clad children. All of this has led to increasing discomfort.  

All of this has led to increasing discomfort. And yet, I know I can never speak out against these offenses and still retain my job. Not in today’s world. Not in a “woke” organization. 

In one moment, all that fell away. Seeing that cross gave me hope that taking a stand for one’s faith might be allowed. With an HR member on the call, I wondered how long this cross-backed image would remain. It stayed up throughout the meeting. A month later, this same team member not only retained his chosen clipart but also used it while speaking and sharing a presentation with our group. I could no longer remain silent.   

At the session’s end, I sent a message to my team member to advise him of how much his background choice meant to me.   

“Please allow me to thank you, personally, for having the great fortitude to use a cross as your virtual backdrop,” I began. “My faith governs everything I do and I’m not ashamed to say so. But using the cross in such a highly visible place really stirred my soul. I want you to know that your imagery has made a difference – not just to me but to who knows how many others. Thank you for your faith. I’m incredibly proud of you.”  

My teammate’s response verified his beliefs. “I’m honored and blessed to meet a fellow believer,” he began. “We need Christ in these desperate times that our world is facing. He is the answer, and it gives me great comfort that nothing takes him by surprise.”   

Not content to put the cross by his head to broadcast to all his co-workers, my Christian brother also provided written testimony in response to me. My follow-up did the same in return.   

“Amen,” I replied. “I couldn’t agree more. We need our Savior more than ever right now. I would be nothing without Him.”   

As a result of this experience, I’ve recommitted to standing for my faith – not just here in this blog and to those I speak to outside my work environment. I now purposely show my dining room wall art while on camera in meetings. My framed message attests to 1 Thessalonians 5: 16-18: “Rejoice always. Pray continually. Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” That is my new unspoken yet intrepid stance.  

If someone is offended, that’s on them. I won’t be afraid to give a voice to my faith in the workplace any longer. I am not ashamed of the gospel of Jesus Christ.  

As I affirmed to my team member in our chat, I now proclaim to all of us. “Remember. God put you here for a reason. I’m excited to see what He has in store for you next!”   

We are Jesus people. Stand up. Let it be known! 

The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. (Psalm 19:1)  

It’s no secret that I love nature. God created the world we live in to be full of light, color, and beauty. Creation didn’t have to be paradisaical – and yet it is. Whether it’s the iridescent wings of a hummingbird, the lime green of a tree frog, or the flaming orange and pink of a brilliant sunset, the world’s magnificence often takes my breath away.   

I especially love the sky. I’ve often told friends who feel overwhelmed to go outside and look up at the heavens. Something about the grandeur of the sky makes my problems feel small and insignificant.   

I’m often awe-struck by sunsets or cloud formations while driving and have struggled with capturing these images without wrecking. While the moving photos never do the reality justice, I feel compelled to try to share what I see with others to remind them of God’s presence in our world.   

In 2019, a resident of San Salvador did just that. Mónica Aramayo photographed a cloud formation that she hoped would “bless” anyone who saw it. Many who viewed her image attest to it showing the outline of a standing Jesus – complete with outstretched arms, blessing the earth. While skeptics were quick to say that her portrait was photoshopped, others compared it to that of the famous mountaintop statue of Christ in Rio de Janeiro.   

We serve an image-less Savior, and there’s a reason for that. We tend to praise what we can see with our eyes. In contrast, the essence of faith is that we believe without seeing.   

God went to great lengths to remind us not to create idols to worship – yet many still do. For this purpose, the altar of Mary and created saints grace the churches of many large and small cathedrals worldwide. Statues of saints are sometimes carried during feast days, and many devout parishioners have prayed before the same, lighting candles and reciting prayers to what they see and believe.   

While scripture tells us that Moses spoke face-to-face with God (Exodus 33;11), we know that this passage refers to a direct conversation rather than a visual one – “as a man speaks to his friend.” (Exodus 33:11) This understanding is confirmed in a later passage when Moses asked God, “Please show me your glory.” (Exodus 33:18)  

God responded to Moses by explaining, “You cannot see My face, for no one can see Me and live.” (Exodus 33:20)   

Instead, God agreed to allow Moses to experience his Creator in a controlled encounter.   

“And the Lord said, ‘There is a place near me where you may stand on a rock. When My glory passes by, I will put you in a cleft in the rock and cover you with My hand until I have passed by. Then I will remove My hand and you will see My back; but My face must not be seen.'” (Exodus 33:19–23).  

Imagine the thrill of that phenomenon. Remember, there will come a day when all who believe in the gospel will spend eternity with our Creator. What a magnificent future Christians have to look forward to!  

We don’t need a photographer to show us that God lives among us. Just look around, and you’ll see Him. Our Father demonstrates His power in mighty thunder – His gentleness in a cool breeze. We see His majesty in the mountains and His grandeur in the sea. God’s fingerprints dwell in all creation, from the tiniest molecules to our unquantifiable galaxy.   

We need only open our eyes to see our Creator – in everything.