Blog

Category: Faith

  • Obedience over Fear

    Jesus Isn’t Concerned About Your Confidence, Only Your Obedience.So many times, we hesitate to follow God’s calling because we feel inadequate, afraid, or unsure of ourselves. We think, “If only I had more confidence, if only I weren’t so scared, then I’d obey.” But here’s the truth: Jesus isn’t concerned about whether you feel bold or fearful, He’s only concerned about whether you obey.

    The Bible is full of people who obeyed God despite their fear, and one of the best examples of this is Ananias in Acts 9. His story is brief, but it teaches a powerful lesson about obedience in the face of fear.

    Ananias: The Fearful Yet Faithful Servant

    Ananias was a disciple in Damascus when Jesus appeared to him in a vision. The Lord told him to go to a man named Saul, lay hands on him, and restore his sight. Now, if you know anything about Saul, you know why Ananias was afraid. Saul was the chief persecutor of Christians, known for arresting and even approving the deaths of believers. To Ananias, this mission seemed dangerous, even suicidal.

    Ananias had every reason to protest. In fact, he did:

    “Lord,” Ananias answered, “I have heard many reports about this man and all the harm he has done to your holy people in Jerusalem. And he has come here with authority from the chief priests to arrest all who call on your name.” (Acts 9:13-14)

    Ananias was scared, and understandably so. But here’s what’s important: his fear didn’t stop him from obeying.

    Despite his apprehension, when Jesus said, “Go! This man is my chosen instrument” (Acts 9:15), Ananias obeyed. He went, found Saul, and laid hands on him. And because of his obedience, Saul—later known as Paul—received his sight, was filled with the Holy Spirit, and became one of the greatest apostles in history.

    Fear is Not an Excuse to Disobey:

    Ananias’ story teaches us that fear is not an excuse to ignore God’s calling. Nowhere in Scripture does Jesus say, “Obey me, but only if you feel comfortable.” Instead, He says, “Follow me” (Matthew 4:19), “Go and make disciples” (Matthew 28:19), and “Deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow me” (Luke 9:23).

    Jesus isn’t looking for people who feel fearless—He’s looking for people who will follow Him despite their fear.

    Think about it: what if Ananias had let fear stop him? What if he had refused to go to Saul? The story would have been completely different. But because he obeyed, the entire course of Christianity was impacted through Paul’s ministry.

    Obedience Over Emotion:

    We often think we need to feel confident before stepping out in faith. We wait until we “feel ready.” But faith isn’t about how you feel, it’s about what you do. If God calls you to something, your job isn’t to wait until you feel brave, but to step forward in obedience, even if your hands are shaking.

    Consider:Moses was afraid to speak, but he obeyed (Exodus 4:10-12).

    Gideon was full of doubt, but he obeyed (Judges 6:15-16).

    Mary didn’t understand how she could bear the Son of God, but she obeyed (Luke 1:38).

    God doesn’t need you to be fearless. He needs you to be faithful.

    Will You Obey?What is God calling you to do today?

    Is He leading you to step into ministry, speak to someone about Jesus, make a difficult decision, or trust Him in an uncertain situation? Whatever it is, don’t wait until you feel brave. Move forward in obedience, knowing that the same God who called Ananias, Moses, Gideon, and Mary is calling you, too.

    Jesus isn’t looking for confidence, He’s looking for surrender. Say yes to Him, even when you’re afraid. You never know how your obedience might change the world.

  • American Funerals/Tough Pill to Swallow

    American funerals have always felt off to me. There’s something almost rehearsed about them, something that seems more about making people feel good than about truly reckoning with death and what it means. The biggest issue? The universal fast pass to heaven.

    I’ve never been to a funeral where the deceased wasn’t declared to be in heaven. No matter who they were, what kind of life they lived, or even how they died, they always seem to get a glowing eulogy, complete with assurances that they’re now “in a better place.” But let’s be honest, does that really make sense?

    If you believe in heaven and hell, then logically, some people are not making it to heaven. Yet, in American culture, we gloss over this entirely. We tell ourselves comforting lies instead of facing hard truths. If someone lived a cruel, selfish, or destructive life, why do we pretend otherwise when they die? And if their actions had real consequences in life, should we really be washing all of that away with a few feel-good words once they’re gone?

    Of course, this isn’t to say that funerals should be about dragging the deceased through the mud. But at the very least, they should be honest. Instead of false comfort, we should take funerals as moments of real reflection, on who the person was, on the impact they had, and on what we can learn from their life.

    American funerals feel more like performances than genuine acts of remembrance. We sanitize death, wrap it up in soft words, and avoid dealing with the real emotions and consequences of a life lived. But we don’t need more empty comfort, we need more honesty. Because if we can’t face death truthfully, how can we ever truly face life?

  • False Prophets and Fools Gold

    The Masters of Deception. Wolves in Sheep’s Clothing. Some people are nothing more than masters of deception, living double lives so convincingly that even those closest to them have no idea who they really are. They walk among us, wearing the perfect mask, charming, respected, and even admired. They play the role so well that no one questions them. But behind the carefully crafted façade, their true nature is something far more sinister.They disguise themselves as pastors, teachers, doctors, and community leaders, figures of trust and authority. They speak words of wisdom, offer guidance, and seem to embody righteousness, but it’s all an act. Behind closed doors, in the shadows where no one is looking, they indulge in the very sins they preach against. They manipulate, they deceive, and they prey on the very people who trust them the most.They thrive on control, feeding off the blind faith and admiration of those who never suspect a thing. Their kindness is calculated. Their words are rehearsed. Every move they make is designed to protect the lies they live by. They wear holiness like a costume, morality like a mask, and use their position as a shield to hide the darkness that lurks within.It’s chilling to realize that some of the most dangerous people in this world aren’t the ones who look the part. They don’t stand out in a crowd. They don’t wear their sins on their sleeves. Instead, they blend in perfectly, hiding in plain sight, fooling everyone, even their own families.These are the true fiends, the wolves in sheep’s clothing. They lead double lives without a second thought, lying with such ease that even they start to believe their own illusions. They are not who they pretend to be, and when the truth comes out, because it always does, it leaves devastation in its wake.Be careful who you trust. Not everyone is who they claim to be. And some? Some are far worse than you could ever imagine.

  • Church Hurt/perfect church exist?

    Church hurt is real. It’s not just a bad experience or a misunderstanding, it’s deep, painful, and often leaves scars that make people question their faith, their worth, and even God. When the place meant to be a refuge becomes a source of pain, it can feel like betrayal.

    Maybe it was judgment instead of grace. Maybe it was manipulation instead of love. Maybe it was rejection when you needed acceptance most.

    Whatever it was, your hurt is valid. And if you’ve walked away from church because of it, I get it.

    But hear this: God is not the church that hurt you. People fail, leaders fall short, and institutions get it wrong, but God is still good. Healing is possible. Safe spaces exist. You are seen, you are loved, and your pain matters.

    If you’re carrying church hurt, I’m praying you find healing, whether that’s through community, therapy, or simply time in God’s presence. You don’t have to go back to the place that broke you, but don’t let it keep you from the One who can heal you.

    If you’re looking for the perfect church, you won’t find it. Why? Because churches are made up of people, and people are imperfect. We make mistakes, we fall short, and sometimes we even hurt each other.

    But here’s the truth: A church doesn’t have to be perfect to be a place of growth, healing, and community. A healthy church isn’t one without flaws; it’s one that acknowledges them, seeks accountability, and pursues grace.

    If you’ve been hurt by church before, I get it. And if you’re hesitant to try again, that’s understandable. But don’t give up on finding a community where you can grow in faith, even if it’s messy sometimes. The church isn’t about perfection, it’s about Jesus, and He is worth it.

    I was proud to be a part of what I thought was the perfect church for imperfect people. A place where grace covered flaws, and love met you where you were.

    Turns out, it was actually the perfect church for perfect people. And I don’t qualify for that vibe.

    Because I’m the least of these, the broken, the messy, the one still figuring it out. But if I know anything about Jesus, He’s sitting at the table with people like me. And that’s the kind of church I want to be a part of.

    Church hurt is real. And if you’ve felt it, I see you. But don’t confuse people’s failures with God’s heart. Jesus is still for the broken, the outcast, the ones who don’t have it all together. And there’s still a place for us at His table.

  • Some Deep Thoughts

    A group of some of my removed Facebook posts.

    Too often, we let the opinions of others shake our confidence—especially from people who have no real value in our lives. But here’s the truth: if you wouldn’t go to them for guidance, why let their criticism affect you?Not everyone’s opinion matters. Not everyone is qualified to judge your journey. Focus on learning from those who’ve walked the path you admire, not from those who are just watching from the sidelines.Take advice from the wise. Ignore the noise from the irrelevant. Keep moving forward.

    I choose to forgive—not because they deserve it, but because I deserve peace. Holding onto hurt only weighs me down, but releasing it makes room for joy.To those who have wronged me, I release you. I let go of the pain, the anger, and the disappointment. Not because it was okay, but because I trust God to handle what I cannot.And I know this: God sees, God restores, and God repays. For every tear, He will give me double the joy. For every loss, He will bring double the victory.I am walking in grace, moving forward in peace, and expecting greater things ahead!

    If you’ve been through what I have, you’d understand. The kind of pain that breaks you down—physically, mentally, spiritually. I’ve been through hell, and I’ve felt it in every way possible.But pain teaches you. It strips away illusions, reshapes you, and makes you see the world differently. And after everything, I’ve learned that true peace is priceless.You can’t truly appreciate peace until you’ve survived the storm. And trust me, I have. That’s why I protect my peace with everything I have.

    I’ve been loyal to people who didn’t deserve it. I’ve stood by those who wouldn’t do the same for me. But I’ve learned—people don’t make me mad anymore; they just disappoint me.I had a lot of respect for you. I reward loyalty with loyalty, and disloyalty? With distance. Simple as that.I forgive, I truly do. But let’s not be naïve—I don’t forget. Lessons are meant to be learned, not repeated. So, I move forward, wiser, stronger, and with a circle that reflects the same energy I give.

    Respect is a two-way street. I give it freely and with the utmost sincerity, but I also demand mine. If you choose not to reciprocate, that’s your choice. I won’t argue, I won’t fight—I’ll simply remove myself from the equation.Because I’ve learned that when you entertain a clown, you become part of the circus. And I have no interest in performing.

    You Can Be Good and Still Be Betrayed. You can be kind. You can be gracious. You can be helpful. You can go out of your way to uplift others. And yet, betrayal can still come from those you least expect.Judas dined with Jesus. Walked with Him. Learned from Him. And still, he betrayed Him.So don’t let the actions of others change the goodness in you. Stay kind. Stay gracious. Stay helpful. Because your character is a reflection of you, not of those who fail to appreciate it. Keep being who you are, even when others don’t value it. Integrity will always outlast betrayal.

    If you’re going to be offended, let’s be clear—it won’t be because of my opinions. It’ll be because of the Word of God. My beliefs aren’t based on personal preferences, feelings, or trends. They’re rooted in Scripture, in truth that never changes.I don’t speak to please the world; I speak to stand for what is right in the eyes of God. If that offends you, it’s not me you have a problem with—it’s Him. And that’s something between you and Him.We live in a time where people are quick to reject truth if it doesn’t align with their desires. But the truth isn’t meant to be comfortable—it’s meant to set us free. If God’s Word convicts you, that’s not hate; that’s grace calling you to something higher.So if you find yourself offended, ask yourself: Is it really me you’re upset with? Or is it the truth of God’s Word challenging something in your heart?I stand on His truth, unapologetically. Because at the end of the day, I answer to Him, not the opinions of man.

    Why Doesn’t the World Want Anything to Do with the Church?Because they see how the church treats each other. And honestly, the world treats each other better than some self-proclaimed Christians do.Shame on you, so-called children of God, for using social media to tear others down instead of lifting them up. We are called to be the light, yet some of you are spreading darkness with your words and actions.Jesus said, “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” (John 13:35)So ask yourself—what are you showing the world? Love or division? Grace or condemnation? If we don’t reflect Christ, how can we expect the world to want anything to do with Him?It’s time to do better.

    I’m in a quiet war.Inside, a battlefield wages in silence.I’m hurt. I’m angry. I’m sad. I’m lost. I’m broken.I walk around like everything is alright—but everything is not alright.But even here, in the wreckage, I know Jesus is with me. Even when I don’t feel it, even when the weight is too much, He is here.Holding the broken pieces of my heart,waiting for me to let Him put them back together.Not into what was, but into something new.A mosaic of beauty and pain, a testimony only He can use to reach others. Not me. But Jesus. Always Jesus.

    Here I am—standing tall despite everything that tried to break me. Scarred but stronger, wiser but still learning. I’ve walked through fire, faced betrayal, and carried burdens I never asked for. And yet, I’m still here.I won’t shrink to make others comfortable. I won’t apologize for my strength, my voice, or my presence. I’ve fought too hard to be who I am today. Here I am—unapologetic and resilient. Take me as I am or watch me walk away.

    I’m so tired of this self-righteous world. Everybody’s got something to say about someone else, pointing fingers, acting like they’re better. But let’s be real—you’re not. You’re flawed, you’ve made mistakes, and if you think your mess is any cleaner than theirs, you’re only fooling yourself.You’re judging people, but you stink too. You’ve got dirt, you’ve got struggles, and you’ve got messes. So why act like you’re above anyone else?The truth is, when God looks at them, He doesn’t see them as less than you. He sees them just like He sees you—worthy of love, grace, and redemption. So before you speak on somebody else’s life, take a long, hard look in the mirror.Who are you that God is mindful of you? Yet, He is. Just like He is with them. Maybe it’s time we stop acting like we’re the judge and start showing the same grace we hope to receive. Because at the end of the day, none of us are better. We all need mercy.

    You are a gift, not a convenience. Your presence is a privilege, not an obligation. If someone cannot see your worth, if they take you for granted or drain you with their negativity, cut them out—without hesitation, without guilt. You don’t need liabilities disguised as friendships, nor do you need to beg for the bare minimum. Protect your energy, surround yourself with those who uplift, not those who deplete. You are not here to carry dead weight—you are here to grow, to thrive, to be valued. And anyone who doesn’t see that? Let them watch from a distance.

    The more unwanted you are, the more necessary you become. A storm is never welcomed, yet it nourishes the earth. A fire is feared, yet it forges the strongest steel. Rejection does not mean insignificance—often, it signals purpose beyond what others can see. The world may push you away, but that only means it is unknowingly shaping itself around your absence. And when the moment comes, when the need arises, it will turn back to you, realizing that what it once discarded was, in truth, indispensable.

    I laugh loud because I used to cry hard. I shine bright because my whole life, people threw shade on me. I went through tests so I could have a testimony. People want the rewards but don’t want to pay the cost I paid. They think my blessings came at a discount—like I got my success on sale.But what they don’t see is the full price I paid in pain, struggle, and sacrifice. Nothing was handed to me.Nothing was easy. But I kept going, and now I stand tall, shining even brighter. Let them talk. Let them assume. But I know the value of every tear, every lesson, and every battle I fought to be where I am today.

    I try to stay chill and keep quiet. I mind my own, stay in my lane, and let things slide. But don’t get it twisted—just because I don’t, doesn’t mean I can’t. Just because I choose peace, doesn’t mean I don’t know war. My silence isn’t weakness, and my patience isn’t fear. I’m calm, not soft. Respect that.