We often expect stories of faith to follow a predictable, polished arc: a moment of crisis, a sudden realization, and a tidy resolution wrapped in a bow. We want the “happily ever after” where every problem is solved.

But for , the reality of faith was far less decorative. It didn’t always arrive as a sudden burst of light; sometimes, it was forged in a long stretch of silence and sustained through survival. For those currently navigating a “heavy season” or dealing with the echoes of trauma, faith isn’t a package of hope—it is a tool for staying alive when the world feels like it is falling apart.

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Faith as a Survival Mechanism, Not an Instant Remedy

There is a common misconception that walking away from faith is always an act of rebellion. In Harold’s case, it was often a byproduct of trying to survive. When his parents’ marriage collapsed, the foundation of his childhood world went with it. Leaving his Protestant upbringing behind wasn’t a defiant statement; it was the reflexive movement of a child trying to pick up the scattered pieces of his life.

In the years that followed, Harold tried to build something stable on his own terms. He married and, in an effort to support his first wife’s son, he became Lutheran so the boy could attend a specific school. It seemed like the right thing to do, yet that marriage crumbled after only two years of alcoholism and abuse. Once again, what was supposed to be steady fell apart. In these moments, faith wasn’t a “cure” for the pain, but the very thing that kept him breathing.

The Divine Navigation Through Deception

One of the most jarring truths of the spiritual journey is that God can use broken, and even deceptive, situations to lead someone toward a destination they didn’t know they needed. The same year Harold’s first marriage ended, he met the woman who would become his second wife. While the relationship initially seemed hopeful, it was eventually revealed to be built on a lie.

He spent two decades navigating a home life defined by constant instability, a reality that only later made sense through the lens of his wife’s diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder and narcissism. Yet, there is an irony at the heart of this wreckage: this woman, who provided years of emotional strain, was the one who brought him into the Catholic Church. Out of a partnership characterized by long-term pain, his faith became the one thing he could be grateful for. It is a strange, holy paradox to find a life-sustaining spiritual home through a source that was otherwise destructive.

The “Someday” Trap and God’s Patient Silence

It is easy to push spiritual matters into the indefinite future, assuming God will wait for a more convenient time. For over a decade, faith was absent from Harold’s life, replaced by the quiet promise that he would “come back to it someday.”

“Maybe you’ve said that before. He probably thought the same thing. But ‘someday’ turned into a long stretch of silence…”

During those years of silence, it might have seemed like the Divine had moved on. But God does not leave the room just because we’ve stopped acknowledging He is there. Even when Harold stepped away, the Presence remained.

Persistence Without a “Quick Fix”

We live in a culture that demands instant results, but real faith often involves enduring decades of instability without a clean conclusion. Harold chose to stay for twenty years.

Perhaps the hardest part of this testimony is acknowledging that the pain is not yet a memory—it is a present reality. His son, now 27, grew up in that environment of narcissism and instability and still lives there today, carrying the weight of a situation that has no easy resolution. A true testimony doesn’t require a neat ending to be valid. It is a record of surviving:

• Broken marriages

• Alcoholism and abuse

• The confusion of deceptive relationships

• Years of emotional and mental strain

Conclusion: Building Something Real on Sand

The most powerful realization Harold came to is that God does not wait for someone to have their life in order before showing up. Even when the foundation of life looks like shifting sand, it is possible to build something real. Faith isn’t always a victory shout; sometimes, it is just the thing that keeps someone breathing when everything else feels heavy. It is the anchor that holds even when the ground beneath it is soft.

As you look at your own circumstances, where might you be overlooking a steady presence in your current heavy season?

📚 Worth Your Time

This week, I want to point you to several books from within our own community.

Author:

Book: Bethan’s Identity

👉 Take a look here

And More Here!

Authors and their Amazon links:

— Click Here

— Click Here

— Click Here

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Christian Hotline & Prayer Support

If you’re struggling or need someone to pray with you, please reach out:

National Suicide & Crisis Lifeline: Dial 988
Focus on the Family Prayer Line: 1-877-771-4357
The 700 Club Prayer Line: 1-800-700-7000
Chatnow (24/7 Christian Chat & Prayer):

https://chatnow.org

Call to Repentance

If you’ve been trying to earn your way into heaven, it’s time to stop striving and start surrendering. Today can be the day everything changes.
The Bible says in 2 Corinthians 6:2, “Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.”
Don’t wait for a better moment. Turn from your sin, believe in the finished work of Jesus Christ on the cross, and receive the gift of eternal life.
He is calling—respond to Him today.

Call to Action

If this message spoke to your heart, don’t keep it to yourself.
Share it with someone you love — and make sure to subscribe so you never miss more biblical truth, encouragement, and hope.
Let’s walk this journey of faith together.

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Restack if it helped you. Please don’t copy and paste it elsewhere. If you quote it, credit and link back—thank you.

We are taught to look for idols in the loud places—the glitter of wealth, the roar of a crowd, or the desperate heat of an addiction. But learned, both through life and his work as a journalist, that the most dangerous stories are often the ones left untold— usually the idols that sit subtlety in the corner of the room, shaping identity without ever raising their voice.

His own quiet idol took root in Madisonville, Tennessee, when he was five years old and cancer entered their home. It wasn’t the softened version people talk about; it was raw and uncomfortable—the sharp, metallic smell of hospitals, the sight of hair falling out in clumps, and skin marked by radiation. At the same time, his parents’ marriage was unraveling in the background, loud and messy, while he clung to a simple, childlike faith he found at nine years old in a small country church.

Then December 25, 1993 came, and everything changed. His mother died on Christmas morning. He was eleven years old, and that date became an anchor he would carry for years. For nearly two decades, he ran—and grief became the most real thing in his life, slowly taking the place that belonged to God.

Read on.

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Grief Can Function as an Idol

It sounds strange at first—calling grief an idol—but an idol is anything that takes ownership of identity and dictates how life is seen. When tragedy becomes the primary lens through which someone views their past, present, and future, it takes on a role it was never meant to have.

His wasn’t loud. It didn’t demand attention. It just sat there—heavy, constant, present in every room he walked into.

Grief.

Recognizing that was the turning point, because it forced him to see that the weight he carried wasn’t just loss—it had become something he was living under. Until it was named, it couldn’t be dealt with, and once it was named, it became clear that it didn’t belong in the place it had taken.

Escapism is a Cage, Not a Cure

When the noise inside gets too loud, the instinct is to quiet it, and for him, that started early. He began drinking at thirteen, not out of rebellion, but out of a need to soften something he didn’t know how to process.

For years, life looked normal on the outside. He worked as a small-town newspaper reporter, stayed productive, and kept things moving forward in a way that would convince most people he was doing just fine. But internally, everything was unraveling, and by his mid-20s, he was divorced and weighed nearly 300 pounds—carrying far more than just physical weight.

The escape never led him anywhere new. It simply kept him circling the same pain, proving something most people don’t realize at first: what feels like relief in the moment often becomes the very thing that keeps you stuck.

Why His Career Was Just the Vehicle, Not the Driver

At 28, something shifted through what seemed like an ordinary conversation. A roommate’s friend came home on leave from the Navy and shared stories about travel, the ocean, and a life that felt bigger than the one he was living. That was enough to spark change.

He spent two years losing weight, rebuilding discipline, and eventually joined the Navy, convinced he had finally found purpose. Looking back now, he sees it differently. The Navy wasn’t his purpose—it was the vehicle that carried him toward it.

Through deployments, long watches, and moves to places like Hawaii, Colorado, Jacksonville, and Pensacola, God used those seasons to slowly bring him back. What felt like forward momentum was actually something deeper and more personal than he realized at the time.

Identity is Built on Redemption, Not Damage

The real shift didn’t happen in a single moment; it unfolded through life itself. It came through the struggle with infertility, through the eventual birth of his son, and through the steady influence of a pastor in Colorado who took the time to disciple him rather than just preach at him.

Over time, he stopped defining himself by what had broken him—the loss, the years of running, the drinking, the weight of everything he had carried—and began to understand something different. Identity isn’t built on damage. It’s built on redemption.

His story was no longer about the boy who lost his mother on Christmas morning. It became about the man who was found by a Father who had never left him.

The Beauty of the Full Circle

Today, he leads Operation Mustard Seed, a mission rooted in Matthew 17:20—a verse his mother loved. There’s something deeply intentional about that, as if God took the very thing that once carried so much pain and turned it into something meaningful.

He now uses that story to reach others, especially those in military life, where silence is common and struggles are often hidden behind strength. What once felt like a wound has become something that connects, speaks, and points others toward hope.

Conclusion: The Invitation to Follow

With five years left before retirement and a move to Norfolk ahead, the full picture is still unfolding. But for the first time, he isn’t trying to control it. He has learned to trust the One leading it.

His focus is simple now—be a present father, a faithful husband, and a light for others who are still carrying the same kind of quiet weight he once did.

Because in the end, God has a way of reaching into the very thing that tried to destroy someone and turning it into the very thing that leads them back to Him.

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Christian Hotline & Prayer Support

If you’re struggling or need someone to pray with you, please reach out:

National Suicide & Crisis Lifeline: Dial 988
Focus on the Family Prayer Line: 1-877-771-4357
The 700 Club Prayer Line: 1-800-700-7000
Chatnow (24/7 Christian Chat & Prayer):

https://chatnow.org

Call to Repentance

If you’ve been trying to earn your way into heaven, it’s time to stop striving and start surrendering. Today can be the day everything changes.
The Bible says in 2 Corinthians 6:2, “Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.”
Don’t wait for a better moment. Turn from your sin, believe in the finished work of Jesus Christ on the cross, and receive the gift of eternal life.
He is calling—respond to Him today.

Call to Action

If this message spoke to your heart, don’t keep it to yourself.
Share it with someone you love — and make sure to subscribe so you never miss more biblical truth, encouragement, and hope.
Let’s walk this journey of faith together.

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God always has some “funny ways” of building a calling. That was ’s case. Tt started with a cassette tape, and later an EF-4 tornado that changed the direction of his life. These moments would later reveal that God had been preparing him for a higher calling.

He was fortunate enough to grow up in a Christian home, so Church wasn’t foreign to him. In fact, it wasn’t optional in his parents’ house. Every Sunday morning and Wednesday night. It didn’t take long before he started asking questions about salvation at just seven years old. Like many kids raised in Church, Matt had heard the words before—sin, grace, forgiveness—but hearing them and understanding them are two very different things. The real turning point came in the most unexpected place: a first-grade classroom, after getting in trouble for something that had never happened before.

That moment gave him a reference point for something he had only heard talked about until then: sin. After that, the Gospel suddenly made sense.

This is his story. Read on.

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It Started With a Cassette Tape

I was blessed to be raised in a Christian home. We were at church every Sunday and Wednesday. At the age of 7 (1st Grade), I remember asking questions about salvation for the first time. My parents had Christian music playing on a cassette tape in my room at night (yes, I am that old). I remember hearing words like “grace” in one of the songs, and I did not understand what it meant. That began the conversations within our home. My pastor came to my house at least 4 times to share the gospel and help me understand my need for salvation. However, it was not until I got in trouble one day at school for talking that I understood my sin and need for a Savior. I was the kid who never got in trouble at school, never had my name written on the board. When that happened (and I faced the consequences at home as well), I had a reference point for sin. The next time my pastor came over, it clicked. I understood why Jesus came and my need to repent and receive His forgiveness. That night, now over 30 years ago, I gave my life to Christ.

When God Changed the Plan

I continued to grow up in a Christian home, and as I entered high school, I began to feel God’s call to ministry. I was scared. I did not know what that meant. But God kept giving me opportunities to lead in my youth group, even though I was younger than most of them. I felt like Gideon, very much intimidated, and very sure that I was not the type of man God would call for something like this. But I had a youth pastor who believed in me and gave me opportunities to lead and serve. As I entered college, I began to find a variety of ways to serve in the local church to see where God was leading me. But it was not until an EF-4 tornado wiped out much of our college campus that God’s plan for my life began to be set in motion. That Summer, I had intended to work with students on our campus at a Summer-long youth camp. After the tornado, the camp was cancelled. Someone from my home church called me and asked me to come serve with the K-5th Graders in our church daycare and lead a Bible study program for them all Summer. I accepted, and I have never looked back.

I worked that Summer program for 3 years. During the school year, I served with that same age group in the church I attended while in college. As I moved on to seminary, I continued to serve K-5th Grade, in my local church and through a Summer day camp for 2 more Summers. A mentor, while I was in seminary, wisely asked me if I saw a pattern forming. He recognized that God was calling me into Children’s ministry. As I graduated from seminary, a job opened up in my home church. For the first time, they were hiring a dedicated Children’s pastor, birth through 5th Grade. I applied and was hired, and I have been honored to serve here at FBC Martin, TN, for the last 13 years.

More Than Just Kids

In this role, I quickly realized that Children’s Ministry is Family Ministry. It is as much about ministering to the parents as it is the kids. 18 years later, I am still serving and teaching kids on a weekly basis. But my heart has grown for the parents and the families I minister to. My passion is family discipleship. I want parents to know that while they are the primary influence in their kids’ lives, we are here to join with them and help as much as we can. I tell parents I am your resource. If there is anything you need, please let me know. You are not on this journey alone. It is my heart’s desire to equip parents to do all they can to ensure their kids are ready to face a dark world once they leave home. How can we make sure our kids are still following Christ into their college years?

I am grateful for the Lord’s salvation. I am thankful for the calling God placed on my life. I am grateful that He led me to Substack last Fall, and that I now have the opportunity to reach and equip parents in other places as well. I praise God that He put me in a Christian home with parents who cared about my future, who wanted me to be faithfully following Him in my adult years. It is because of their leadership, guidance, and support that I am where I am today. Maybe that is why I am so passionate about this now. I pray the same will be true for my own 3 kids and for all the kids God has put in my path to minister to over the last 18 years and in the years to come.

Conclusion

Looking back now, it’s clear that God was leading Matt toward the place he would eventually serve. Today, his passion has grown beyond the classroom. His heart is for families, because he has seen firsthand how powerful it is when parents take seriously the role God has given them in their children’s lives.

From a cassette tape in a child’s bedroom to a calling in ministry, Matt continues to live out what God intended for him.

Join Our Subscriber Chat

If you’re walking this battle and need a safe space to talk, pray, or find encouragement—join our Subscriber Chat on Substack.

We pray, talk honestly, and remind each other that freedom in Christ is possible.

Christian Hotline & Prayer Support

If you’re struggling or need someone to pray with you, please reach out:

National Suicide & Crisis Lifeline: Dial 988
Focus on the Family Prayer Line: 1-877-771-4357
The 700 Club Prayer Line: 1-800-700-7000
Chatnow (24/7 Christian Chat & Prayer):

https://chatnow.org

Call to Repentance

If you’ve been trying to earn your way into heaven, it’s time to stop striving and start surrendering. Today can be the day everything changes.
The Bible says in 2 Corinthians 6:2, “Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.”
Don’t wait for a better moment. Turn from your sin, believe in the finished work of Jesus Christ on the cross, and receive the gift of eternal life.
He is calling—respond to Him today.

Call to Action

If this message spoke to your heart, don’t keep it to yourself.
Share it with someone you love — and make sure to subscribe so you never miss more biblical truth, encouragement, and hope.
Let’s walk this journey of faith together.

Subscribe now

© 2026 The Narrow Path Collective. All Rights Reserved.
Restack if it helped you. Please don’t copy and paste it elsewhere. If you quote it, credit and link back—thank you.

What happens when life doesn’t just knock you down once… but keeps swinging?

can tell you. She is the modern day female Job. Afflicted with many trials but staying faithful to God. Just like the old story goes in the Bible (See Job in the Old Testament).

Resilience became her companion when it wasn’t an option. A thing she had to master and overcome, and it didn’t come lightly. Her story consists of hardships, difficulties, questioning God, and wondering what she would do next.

But somewhere in the middle of all that chaos, something unexpected happened. An experience that she will never forget, a near death experience, when her heart stopped.

This story involves:

• Accidents.

• Medical Crisis

• Job loss.

• Bills you can’t pay.

• And nights you sit in silence wondering

If you’ve ever looked at a family and thought, How are they still standing after all of that? Then you want to read this.

Sometimes the trials that feel like they’re destroying us… are actually the ones God uses to prepare your heart for Heaven.

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Before We Continue…

If you want to read more of her story, or stories similar to hers, order Routed To Heaven!

AND, please join us on Substack Live, 3/11 at 1pm Pacific/2pm Mountain/3pm Central/4pm Eastern to hear more.

I called them the Job Families in an article that I wrote for ‘Leadership Journal’ that Christianity Today formerly published. The article recommended words and actions for pastors and leaders who serve families that seem to experience numerous trials.

I could relate. All within fifteen years, struggles included (but were not limited to) my firstborn birthed eleven weeks early due to preeclampsia (they told my family they could save our little two pounder but not me), my second baby born full term (but blue and not breathing), a spouse becoming permanently disabled and addicted to opiates, a car accident (causing two years of my own disability and chronic ongoing pain), a few dips into self-medicating, dealing with a predatory lender who purchased our mortgage and sought to own the whole block, job loss, moving into a travel trailer where we survived with two kids and two large dogs at several relative’s mercy, multiple bankruptcies, public assistance and more. Later came much more than I thought I could ever bear–I cannot speak of it all publicly.

I wrote the article because I sensed my own friend’s and ministry leader’s inner battle, even as they provided what help they could. “Do we say ‘hang in there, sister. The Lord is still near?’” (insert pat, pat, pat on shoulder here, plus a big ‘ole hug).

What could I even say to myself? I felt like I was drowning.

Always somewhat involved in serving, when I decided to make healthier choices for my children and me and work diligently on my healing, God plopped me into leading more ministry than I ever thought possible.

Although life in the last several years has greatly settled, God planned more. A year and a half ago, He vaulted me up to Heaven when I died from an allergic reaction. And He changed my world.

In front of me wavered a gold cloud, with people behind it. Soft, short grass made my toes feel like they wore the most comfortable slippers ever. I experienced a show of kaleidoscope panels celebrating Him and me. The colors were unlike any I had ever seen. Rays of light danced, and I saw prayers from earth shooting up like fireworks in the form of light rays vaulted from slingshots. Jesus spoke to me in a beautiful, heart-melting baritone. Later, He told me that we walked and talked even more, but that He would reserve some of those memories for a specific purpose.

After standing in Heaven with Him, I realized how much He individualized my experience. I never tunneled up–I am claustrophobic. And He held me on the way back down. I arrived to a muted but commanding stillness–quietness I later learned was holy silence. He speaks more to me in silence because on earth, I am a busy person and can mimic the Energizer Bunny at times. He wanted to ensure that I absorbed the most important piece–His words.

More memories keep returning as He promised–He waited to reveal some as I wrote ‘Routed to Heaven.’ Then I thought we were done, but He continues to tell me new ones as I now write the Study Guide.

One recent memory that made me weep with awe and joy was what He shared about my time in a Job Family: ‘My daughter, you suffered continual trials because you are especially chosen.’

Wait, what? Multiple verses tumbled through my head. You know, those ones that say, ‘He caused…’ or ‘He brought…?’ Ones I had always read as ‘Satan really did this, but He obviously allowed it. Errr – He must have had a reason!’

‘You were chosen for my impact. Because of your faith, trials, your choice to work hard on your healing and because you then obeyed and stepped into the roles I created for you, you have impacted thousands with my words, your stories and your experienced wisdom. You brought hope, healing and Heaven to my people and will continue. You honor me.’

How humbled and honored am I!

Conclusion

Looking back over the many years of hardship, it would be easy to see only the pain. Yet the story did not end in despair.

Through every hardship, Julie continued to press forward in faith, even when the path ahead felt uncertain.

Standing in Heaven, experiencing the presence of Christ, she was given a perspective she had never known before. What once felt like relentless suffering was reframed as something far more meaningful. The trials she endured were not meaningless. They were part of a calling—one that allowed her story, her faith, and her perseverance to touch the lives of thousands.

Christian Hotline & Prayer Support

If you’re struggling or need someone to pray with you, please reach out:

National Suicide & Crisis Lifeline: Dial 988
Focus on the Family Prayer Line: 1-877-771-4357
The 700 Club Prayer Line: 1-800-700-7000
Chatnow (24/7 Christian Chat & Prayer):

https://chatnow.org

Call to Repentance

If you’ve been trying to earn your way into heaven, it’s time to stop striving and start surrendering. Today can be the day everything changes.
The Bible says in 2 Corinthians 6:2, “Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.”
Don’t wait for a better moment. Turn from your sin, believe in the finished work of Jesus Christ on the cross, and receive the gift of eternal life.
He is calling—respond to Him today.

Call to Action

If this message spoke to your heart, don’t keep it to yourself.
Share it with someone you love — and make sure to subscribe so you never miss more biblical truth, encouragement, and hope.
Let’s walk this journey of faith together.

Subscribe now

© 2026 The Narrow Path Collective. All Rights Reserved.
Restack if it helped you. Please don’t copy and paste it elsewhere. If you quote it, credit and link back—thank you.

Welcome to our Testimony Series! Tuesdays. 8 PM. CST.

One thousand years may very well be as one day in God’s calendar, but based on how the last fifty-nine of mine played out (in years), I don’t have a moment to lose before I spend the remainder of my God-given days sharing His love in a deeply personal, and radically profound way. Impacting lives in a spiritual way often means walking alongside people whose stories and perspectives we may not fully understand or even agree with. It begins with an open heart, one that is willing enough to listen, learn, and to allow everyone involved to find meaning and value in one another’s journey. That’s why Thomas and I are here – to share the experiences of our broken and redemption-filled lives.

Despite the obvious truths of our coming from vastly different backgrounds, upbringings, lifestyles, and mindsets, our paths mysteriously converged into the arms of the same merciful and loving Father, just at different times and under different circumstances. With lives fueled from painful life lessons, I believe our results produced sage material for these very raw testimonies, with simply one goal - offering all the praise and glory to the Only One Who made it possible - Jesus Christ, The Risen Son of God. For now, I begin this personal journey down our contemplative collaboration the same way I intend to leave it – with the following words – God uses ALL His people—every size, every color, every shape, and every background—to further His glorious Kingdom. Though some may be quick to dismiss those they don’t understand, each person has a role to play. It is our duty to recognize that truth and make room for it to unfold.

Related Article

What Most People Get Wrong About the Homosexual Life

Before I go any further, let’s lay it all out on the table. I realize that for many people, their only knowledge of the gay lifestyle has been derived from the lenses of controversy, social media outcry, outlandish caricatures of city Pride celebrations, and the growing number of people engulfed in gender dysphoria. People rarely consider the presence of a silent minority who live in garage door communities; they save money for modest vacations, volunteer for worthy organizations, and tend their yards wearing atrociously boring attire - just like you do. As one who was deeply entranced in the gay community for almost four decades, I can wholly relate to opinions held by those outside the community, towards those within. I can also say firsthand, I remember yearning for the simpler days when one could easily identify themselves in any one of the four “LGBT” letters. Today, it’s abundantly clear that this ever-expanding acronym will not stop until it swallows the entire alphabet in its path, and no doubt, will advance its way towards adding special characters and “to the power of” mathematical exponentials to its moniker. I peacefully, and gratefully, leave that identity crisis to the ones best suited to do so. While anyone can extract the worst from the four above-mentioned lenses and bind that perception to the gay community as a whole, realize, they’re doing a tremendous disservice to an entire populus, many of whom are simply fighting with every fiber of their being to make it through a lifetime of mire you cannot possibly relate to, just like you have done, and just like I had painfully done.

I have very fond memories of the love, support, and encouragement provided by so many beautiful Christians who met me right where I was – confused, hurt, and seeking purpose. They were the ones I joyfully acknowledge had a pivotal role in bringing me to Jesus Christ, and ultimately, to where I am today.

Coming Out: The Cost of Being a Homosexual Son

I remember the day I came out to my mom. It was like yesterday. I told her to take all the time she needed to consume what I’d told her, and I would still be there. After all, it took me years to come to terms with this reality myself, so I certainly didn’t expect her to come to terms in just one shocking conversation. A week later, she called me and said two things I will never forget. “I appreciate how you allowed me the time to adjust to what you told me. It made all the difference. And you’re the same son I’ve always loved.” She also told me that she’d always known. So did my grandmother. My father was an entirely different story. I ended up having to re-live the delivery of that conversation after my mom prepped him beforehand. While the image of the “perfect son” still lived in my mom’s head, I was dead in my father’s. I moved frequently around the country for my job, and calling my parents was a weekly occurrence. Upon hearing my voice, my dad would skip the conversation entirely and say, “Lemme get your mom.” His and my relationship would never be the same.

The Christmas before I told them, I was home visiting my parents. Understand, I had been carrying an undisclosed secret from everyone in the world, including myself. It was affecting my entire life - my sleep, appetite, social life, work, motivation; it even magnified my fear of public speaking. Panic attacks were a normal occurrence. Midnight after I’d returned to my parents from visiting my college roommate, I looked into the bathroom mirror, and I told myself I had two choices. I would either: (1) kill myself after I flew back to Boston, or (2) I would dig further into this potential life I’d been avoiding and face the fact that I might be gay. At the time, suicide was a more viable option as the prospect of revealing to my parents that they’d never become grandparents was too great a burden for me to bear, not to mention the sheer embarrassment they’d feel amongst their tight circle of friends. I calculated that a dead “straight” son was much better than a living “gay” one. Ultimately both my sisters would take their lives for their own reasons, so the pressure to succeed had always been on me for years. Ensuring my parents’ life efforts with their children were not entirely in vain, I took it upon myself to overcompensate in every area of my life. The self-induced pressure was excruciating. I lived in that darkness for nearly four decades.

I want to take a moment to point out something that may not be as obvious to everyone else as it was to me. Before I “came out” to my family, the question I often asked myself was this-” Why in God’s green earth would ANYONE, WILLINGLY, HAPPILY accept, seek, or DESIRE a life of hiding, subjecting oneself to ridicule, alienation, embarrassment and REJECTION from those I rely upon for EMOTIONAL SUSTENANCE - all for the EFFIN sake of “choosing” the gay LIFESTYLE?” Rhetorical question. No one in their right and sane mind would consciously “choose” to live this way.

I’d known since I was five, but I buried those thoughts early, and I buried them deep. Or so I thought. There were constant reminders along the way. Speed Racer and Luke Skywalker didn’t exactly help me in keeping those thoughts at bay, but I was convinced for years it was a phase I’d eventually grow out of. For those who are wondering, I was not molested, and I was not sexually compromised as a child. I spent years wondering to myself what my close male childhood friends ever saw in the “Hustler” magazines they’d sneak into my basement and salivate over at my birthday parties when I was a kid. I’d always been the odd man out, but I never understood why until I turned 22.

The Real-World Consequences of Being Openly Homosexual

In the years to follow my coming out in 1992, I would begin to experience some of the things my parents were afraid I’d encounter:

• I was thrown out of my Greenwich apartment in the middle of winter after the owner surmised I was gay. I only had three days to find a new place. It was freezing cold and pelting rain as my buddies and I drove the rental truck from her driveway, “You’re from the devil! You’re from the devil!” she screamed as she shook one pointer finger.

• After working a straight 72-hour shift, I returned to the parking lot to find the word “FAG” poorly spray-painted across my driver’s side door with a brake fluid-filled water pistol.

• I was passed over promotions in positions I was long and well-qualified for, but ultimately didn’t fit in with the image of the good old boys.

• Another amazing job offer was rescinded a few days after I’d received it; the company learned that I was mid-way into a divorce (with a man). They found another candidate that had more “closely matched their needs.”

• After tithing a considerable amount of money to a church I was passionate about, I was encouraged by the Lead Pastor to find another church home following my own admission of my relationship with my then partner of two years.

• After nearly a decade of donating blood, I was rejected for having crossed the wrong “X”. No, it wasn’t AIDS or HIV, I was just ‘gay’ and that was enough.

I share all that background because it provides valuable insight to the spiritual journey ahead, which, like my sexuality, would remain hidden another 15 years before I’d discover it.

When God Confronted My Homosexual Identity

In February 2000, I was in the process of selling my first home. A promotion had relocated me from sunny Phoenix to frigid downtown Chicago the weekend of Valentine’s Day. Yeah, great timing wasn’t always my strongest suit. I’d also been deeply rooted in my first significant same-sex relationship with a guy I met the previous October. We discussed at great length, the feasibility of him upending his job, family, and personal life to follow me. We also shared two enormous dogs. It was not a small undertaking. He agreed to make the sacrifice but stayed behind until he tied things down with his job. My life was about to dramatically change in ways my imagination could never have been conceived.

A few weeks into my new assignment, I remember kneeling on the floor next to my hotel bed with a Bible in my hand. It wasn’t even mine; I found it inside the nightstand drawer. I wasn’t sure why I was kneeling, but someone told me if you opened a Bible with your eyes closed and pointed to a random page, the scripture you pointed to would provide some instruction. This was just another one of my desperate attempts to seek relief from the anxiety I felt waiting for my house to sell. To this day, I’m not sure whether to curse that person or hug them for telling me about Bible roulette. I literally, just now, made that up - “Bible Roulette.” I’m sure it exists somewhere, but I would quickly learn, this “game” was just as dangerous to me as its shooting counterpart. My finger unmistakably landed directly on top of Leviticus 18:22 (“You shall not lie with a man as with a woman. It is an abomination”). And so began a tumultuous 25-year journey into questioning my entire life’s existence.

That day on the floor would be three years shy from my having any formal inkling to inviting Jesus Christ into my life. The next year’s 2001 attacks on our country would fill the Moody Church on La Salle Drive to the brim. I know it shook me enough to attend. That Sunday still stands out in my mind. I hadn’t been so moved to even enter a church since accompanying my grandmother from the age of nine to twelve, and that was sporadic at best. I invited “Lee”, one of the church ushers to join me for dinner one night after work. I had some questions for him. We met at a diner a few blocks away where Lee asked me over dinner if I was saved. I wasn’t sure how to answer his question. I’d traveled with so much baggage from my childhood and the years prior. I really had no way to answer his question with any level of intelligence.

I managed to ask Lee “the question” that had been plaguing me since that day of Bible roulette. I asked him what the church, and God, would think if I was gay. Without quoting damning scripture, he responded with, “Here, I’ve got something for you.” He handed me a brand-new Bible and a wallet card depicting Jesus Christ holding up an exhausted man gripping a mallet in his hand, trails of blood spilled like a river on the ground below them. I remember feeling horrified by the picture, until I understood its meaning. Jesus was holding ME right after I’d driven the nails into His body. That image stayed with me for a very long time. Looking back on that night, it’s easy for me to see that Lee held the future of my Christian faith in his hands. A single turn in one direction opened my heart to consider who God was; a turn in the other and it could have frightened me away indefinitely. My dinner with Lee also helped to serve up one of the most spiritually supernatural events I will probably ever have in my life.

It was Saturday, July 13, 2003, 10:45AM. I know this because you don’t forget where you were when an event like this happens. I was on board a packed Boeing 767 bound for my home in Louisville, KY from Austin, TX. following a business trip. With only one store open, I purchased Rick Warren’s “Purpose Driven Life” assuming it was a self-help book on life/career changes. If I had known about the actual subject matter, I wouldn’t have purchased it. As we reached a smooth 30,000 feet, I was already into Chapter 7 reciting the prayer of acceptance. I was finally making that familiar invitation for Jesus Christ to come into my life. It was as genuine of a prayer I had ever recited. I poured my heart out in that prayer. When I was done, I looked up to find nothing special happening. At the very least, I’d hoped for our hitting a semi-violent air pocket to confirm God’s existence. When that didn’t happen, I returned to reading.

About 30 seconds later, I stopped reading and slammed the book into my lap. It was at that very second my entire life would change forever. I followed up to my initial prayer of surrender with this newly inspired one- “God, if you are so % omnipotent, and you can be everywhere at any time, you need to come onto this airplane, no I DEMAND You COME INTO this airplane and tell me that what you heard from my lips was absolutely sincere – I KNOW it was sincere, but I need to know YOU know it was sincere, and that You heard it from my lips.” That was my exact prayer, verbatim, less the colorful profanity I wedged between the “so” and “omnipotent.” Before I ever had the chance to finish whispering those words from my mouth, I distinctly “heard” a voice in my head. It was clearly audible; it was unforgettable, and it was NOT the pilots’. The Voice gently, but firmly, commanded me, “Look to your right”. I swear this on the life of every single pet I have ever owned. I looked to my RIGHT and I saw a woman only two rows back reading the following book, as clear as day for me to see:

I was in shock. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, let alone “hearing” a Voice in my head. I started to laugh at the absurdity of it. The laughter quickly turned to what I could only define as instant reverence. I realized what had just happened. HE happened. I felt an intense wave of tears coming. I held them back as tightly as I could. My 6’6” frame was wedged like a sardine between two strangers. It was too much for me to control. I leaned over, covered my face, and cried. My shoulders were shaking; my nose was running like a toddler’s. I know my neighbors must have thought I was having an emotional breakdown. I was certain I was getting attention from other passengers nearby, but I didn’t care. I wept from the sheer shock and joy that Someone so majestic would take the time to create even a single, fleeting moment to reveal His presence, to ME. That’s the moment I understood how small I was in the world, and just how gigantic He was. I still have difficulty articulating the pure essence of that moment. I just knew I wasn’t worthy of what I dared ask Him that morning. I wasn’t.

I also don’t believe in coincidence. This flight was sold out with over 300 people aboard. Consider the infinitesimal probability that of the three-hundred passengers, it only took ONE who was (1) close enough to my seat for me to see them (2) sitting BEHIND ME, reading a book titled (3) “Answered Prayers” (4) which I only would have seen if some random “intuition” prompted me to turn my head in her direction. I knew immediately it was God on that airplane. There’s absolutely no question in that moment it was God. It only made the road ahead even more challenging for me.

I remember the next five months or so feeling like I was in the middle of a honeymoon. Nothing phased me. I had witnessed what no one I knew ever did. I wanted to go to church. I got baptized. I started to pray. And for the first time in my life, I started to read the Bible. That’s when the real work started. I had conveniently buried the memory of “Bible roulette” in my subconscious for four years, and it shot up like a cannon. It scared me. I then skipped over to Revelation 22:15 where I was lumped in with dogs, sorcerers, murderers, idolaters, and anyone who practiced lying. I didn’t perceive myself as any of those mentioned, so I thought I might be safe. I continued reading other books from the Bible, where I carefully sidestepped any uncomfortable scripture that might spoil my newfound experience with God.

A few years later, I would meet another person that would change my life forever. I met “Andrew” in 2005, the same week Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans. That should have been its own sign of providence for my life. It was love at first sight. We were together for 16 years. We got married after it was passed into law. The first nine years of that relationship happily obliterated every insignificant experience that followed my break-up in 2001. Every Christmas, Andrew and I would receive a card from his grandfather, a retired Southern Baptist preacher, along with a check for $15. His heart-warming card was filled with the standard wishes of strong health and good cheer, accompanied by every biblical scripture damning us both to eternal suffering. By our third Christmas, I had the lineup memorized: Leviticus 18:22, Leviticus 20:13, Romans 1:26-27, 1 Corinthians 6:9-10, 1 Timothy 1:1. And Genesis 19. That one always induced inspiring mental gymnastics as we debated the relationship between homosexuality vs. hospitality.

It was challenging to see the spiritual realities awaiting me from behind the veils of normalcy. Andrew and I both had successful careers. I served on the Staff Parish Committee at my church for two years. I was later hired as a department head for that same church for another two years. I led our weekly “Tuesday Night Dinner” in prayer with 300+ in attendance. I organized church fundraisers and volunteer events for packing school lunches and the annual 5K. I was a certified Stephens Minister at my church. I delivered my “Answered Prayers” testimony to over 1,000 people one Sunday at my church. I was shifting minds and opening doors for others in the gay community to find a safe and loving place to worship. Before my official starting date, I told my Pastor, my then boss, that he could still back out if he wanted to. I didn’t want him to take the heat to hire me. He said, “You’ve been made for this type of ministry. You let me fight the battles, and you just do what we hired you to do.” One member of the hiring committee pointed to the door I’d just left through after my interview - “THAT is exactly the type of leader and passion for Christ I want my kids to see here at this church.” After I was hired, twelve families left the church and their money along with it. I can recall feeling intense hurt, not just for the rejection, but the wounds my church would be assuming on my behalf.

May of 2014 arrived and the bottom of my world dropped like a rusted floor of a haunted amusement park ride. The last seven years of our relationship obliterated any identity of self that ever mattered to me. The fact I am even here to write about my life is a miracle in itself. It’s nothing short of God’s will and purpose I am here. If my number wasn’t organically called after my countless bouts of reckless behavior, I came infinitely close to meeting the same destiny as my siblings. My divorce was finalized December 2021. I would never “really” come around until the summer of 2025. The number “11” has always held profound meaning for me. It shows up. A lot. I’d never thought it would signify the number of years I would endure the most excruciating pain I would ever experience.

God forged me through the fires, and I faced a lot of them. Last year this time, I purchased black opaque blinds for all the windows of my home for the purpose of perpetually blocking the view (and the light) of my once beautiful yard that was instantly decimated by a category 4 hurricane and a tornado at 4am, only to be met with the evil fleecing of $18K in my savings by a contractor who made the storms look weak in comparison. That was the last car of a very “long black train” that lasted eleven horrendous years of my life. Last November 2025, I had a second meeting with God. He was the same One I’d met on that airplane from Austin. Only this time, we knew each other intimately. And we were about to become even closer.

That one Saturday morning last year in November I was at work when a supernatural series of events took place over a four-hour period that could only have been orchestrated by God Himself. He showed up in my office. I know now that I had been preparing for that day for a long time. I’d been doing the “wash on, wash off” moves from “Karate Kid” for decades, and I applied them to that day when everything finally came together for me:

1. I could no longer live a life filtering scripture by what I could live with and live without.

2. I couldn’t wait to read the Bible. It would finally have more fingerprints than dust.

3. I swore I would get to know all the ins and outs of Him.

4. I wanted nothing less than a personal relationship with Him, not just what I read about.

5. I accepted the Bible as “inerrant,” a word I had been running from for 22 years.

6. I made a life-long vow I intend to keep.

Celibacy was something I’d marinated on for years. Innately, I began that journey a year ago, February 21, 2025. I formally declared this vow to Jesus Christ this past November. I knew it was the right “decision” because it wasn’t a decision - it was a response to the Holy Spirit. I’d been searching for years how I could forge an intimately deeper relationship with Jesus Christ.

For me, it was a very clear element to my reaching that goal, even if only by a fraction. Not borne out of malice, spite, nor any sense of incel behavior, my vow was a truly narrowing down to the marrow of what a genuine commitment to Jesus Christ would mean for me. Initially, I’d approached it from the standpoint of “giving up something” which was such a core identify trait for me. By the time of its inception, it was nothing short of an enormous spiritual gain.

While I conscientiously strive not to attach any sense of self-identity to it, I remain continually aware of it. I often find myself contemplating it, not unlike a person’s frequent gaze upon an engagement ring, overjoyed in with Whom the bond exists. My celibacy is a continual and beautiful reminder of God’s unfailing love, grace, and mercy in my life. When I think about the tremendous sacrifice Jesus made on that cross on my behalf, on ALL our of behalf, bearing the small one I carry only pales in comparison. Matthew 16:24 often comes to mind for me:

“Then Jesus told his disciples, ‘If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.”

Jesus, I will follow you wherever You lead me.

Yes, “God uses ALL His people—every size, every color, every shape, and every background—to further His glorious Kingdom. Though some may be quick to dismiss those they don’t understand, each person has a role to play. It is our duty to recognize that truth and make room for it to unfold.”

And now, we are back to the beginning of the journey. There’s so much more to go.

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What if the moment you thought you were dying… was actually the moment you finally met the God you swore you didn’t believe in?

Be honest. Have you ever thought something like this?

• Jesus wasn’t real

• God doesn’t exist

• Heaven is a fairy tale for adults

• Sky Daddy

• The Bible is just made up stories

had similar thoughts. She didn’t grow up knowing or chasing Jesus. In fact, she mocked and questioned Him, and even disassociated herself from anything that looked like church. But, she somehow found herself flat on a hospital bed with her blood pressure screaming toward disaster. Perplexed and bewildered, she started drifting somewhere she couldn’t explain.

This is a story about a woman who almost died three days after giving birth… and came back knowing, without a single doubt—that God is real.

Trust me. You need to read this one.

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The First Crack in the Old Life

’s life didn’t flip upside down slowly. It happened in 2018. One moment she was a tired mom in her late twenties who didn’t really believe in God. The next moment, she was staring straight into eternity.

Before that year, she would’ve told you God was a crutch. Something people leaned on because they didn’t want to face their own mess. Sure, she had a short season in church as a young teenager, but that didn’t end well. With an abusive mother at home, church felt like an escape at first. Then things got strange.

At twelve years old, she began having prophetic dreams and visions. Instead of being guided gently, she was treated like a problem to solve. Some thought she had demons. Others asked her deep prophetic questions she didn’t even understand. She was a child. She was scared, confused, and hurt.

So she shut it all down. She told God she wanted nothing to do with any of it. And as she grew into her late teens and early twenties, she mocked Christianity instead. If God was real, why would He let her walk through that?

The First Signs Something Is Happening

Then came her third son. Born out of wedlock. And three or four days after giving birth, something felt off.

It started with exhaustion. The kind that wraps around you like a heavy blanket and whispers, just stay here. When her children’s father came in to wake her after a long nap, she didn’t want to move. A strange thought drifted through her mind:

What if I just died here? I’d finally feel at peace.

That wasn’t normal but she brushed it aside and stood up.

The headache hit first. It was sharp and crushing. When she walked into the next room, the light was unbearable. She couldn’t open her eyes, and that’s when she knew something was wrong.

Machines, Monitors, and Uncertainty

At the hospital, her blood pressure read in the 180s over 130s. Postpartum pre-eclampsia. A rare and deadly condition. The cure for regular pre-eclampsia is delivering the baby. But postpartum? It can turn fatal fast.

Machines malfunctioned and nurses scrambled. Medication pushed through an IV. A doctor rushed in, threw on a gown, and said plainly, “We need to treat you now or you could have a stroke, seizure, and die.”

Normally, Amber would have resisted and questioned everything. But this time she didn’t argue. There was a knowing that she just has to let go. Surrender.

They moved her into a dark, windowless room. It had grey walls and a heavy air. The doctor suggested the baby’s father go home with the newborn. Before he left, Amber made an odd request for someone who didn’t believe.

“Ask your family to pray for me.”

She didn’t even fully understand why she said it. But she believes now that those prayers mattered.

Somewhere between the IV drips and the dim lighting, she began drifting.

The Pull Toward the Light

In the corner of the room, she saw them. Loved ones who had passed and bright beings filled with light. Peace rolled off them like waves. She knew right away they were angels. The love and peace they carried was nothing she had ever experienced before.

Then all of a sudden, a dramatic shift happened.

She was pulled into what she can only describe as a wormhole. Cloaked figures lined up, kneeling, placing something down—prayers? judgments? offerings? She didn’t know. But the angels were with her. And then a presence she recognized without ever studying it.

Mother Mary.

A radiant light. She had no physical face, there was just a knowing. And she heard, “I am with you. I am in you.”

Amber had no Catholic background. No deep theology about angels, yet there she was.

She was shown two realms. One was dark and heavy–filled with shadowed shapes that carried an unmistakable weight. She thought, I’m not going there.

Then beauty. Colors she had never seen before. Vibrant, alive, and beyond earthly comparison. The only thing she could recognize was a glowing blue butterfly.

There weren’t normal human emotions there. It was more like pure understanding. A thought flickered through her: Maybe I do want to live. I have children.

Instantly, she saw flashes:

• Birthdays.

• Conversations.

• Moments with her sons, young and older.

• Future glimpses.

She laughed softly and thought, If this is all I get, I’m content.

Then she was there, in the light. It wasn’t just brightness—it was unconditional love. She didn’t have thoughts, identity, or a body. It was all total, tangible, and complete love. Just love. And it was Overwhelming…but also felt completely safe. She knew this was God. It had to be.

She doesn’t know how long she was there. Time didn’t exist. She only knew she didn’t want to leave.

The Subtle Start of a New Chapter

Then suddenly—back in her body. The angels remained. She could see the bleeding in her brain, and somehow they showed her how to heal. She followed their instruction without overthinking it.

When she fully came back, she knew two things:

God is real.
And she had a purpose.

Her life changed overnight. She couldn’t deny what she experienced. But she didn’t shout it from the rooftops at first. It felt almost too wild to explain.

She went searching instead.

She wandered through spiritual paths, even into New Age ideas for a season. But she says God never left her. Emmanuel. Yeshua. Jesus. Always drawing her back.

Finally, in 2023, she was baptized. This time not out of fear or confusion—but by choice. She gave her heart fully to Jesus Christ. And the transformation continues. She understands now that perfection isn’t the goal. Belonging is. She believes she is a daughter of God. Part of a royal family she once mocked. Her story isn’t about being flawless. It’s about being found. No matter how far someone feels from God, she believes He is still reaching. Still sending messengers and still whispering life back into hearts that think they’re done.

She is living proof.

And she prays her story blesses someone who feels just one breath away from giving up.

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If you’re struggling or need someone to pray with you, please reach out:

National Suicide & Crisis Lifeline: Dial 988
Focus on the Family Prayer Line: 1-877-771-4357
The 700 Club Prayer Line: 1-800-700-7000
Chatnow (24/7 Christian Chat & Prayer):

https://chatnow.org

Call to Repentance

If you’ve been trying to earn your way into heaven, it’s time to stop striving and start surrendering. Today can be the day everything changes.
The Bible says in 2 Corinthians 6:2, “Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.”
Don’t wait for a better moment. Turn from your sin, believe in the finished work of Jesus Christ on the cross, and receive the gift of eternal life.
He is calling—respond to Him today.

Call to Action

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Share it with someone you love — and make sure to subscribe so you never miss more biblical truth, encouragement, and hope.
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Restack if it helped you. Please don’t copy and paste it elsewhere. If you quote it, credit and link back—thank you.

They say it takes two years to really know someone. I believe that. My wife learned that the hard way… and I hate that she had to.

But hang on. This isn’t a pity party. Stay with me because it gets better.

My wife is the definition of God’s grace. I’m not exaggerating. She has seen me at rock bottom. The worst versions of me:

• The angry one.

• The distant one.

• The one who didn’t even like himself.

When I came into this relationship, I was a wreck. Addicted and numb. Drinking too much, chasing porn, and running from pain. I was a man hollowed out by my own choices — carrying shame like it was part of my identity.

I didn’t have hope or direction. I was slowly starving myself of self-worth and calling it normal.

And then I met my wife, .

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From a Simple Steakhouse to the Side of the Road

My wife and I had our first date at a local steakhouse. Nothing fancy. Just simple food and two simple people who don’t care much for stiff etiquette.

She was nervous. I could see it in the way she talked and moved. I still remember it. But I was patient with her because I know that feeling. I’ve wrestled with anxiety myself. When you recognize it in someone else, you handle it gently.

And somehow… we just clicked.

The conversation flowed. The awkward silences never really came. Being with her felt easy and safe. Like I didn’t have to perform. She felt like my person. The one who would understand me without me having to explain everything. I can’t fully describe it without sounding dramatic, but there was this quiet nudge in my spirit that night. A calm certainty.

That’s your wife.

When Everything Fell Apart, She Leaned In

Now, lets fast forward 2 months later. We’re dating. Everything is going just fine, until one night.

Make a long story short, I was the passenger in an automobile accident (I wrote about it in the article linked above) and abandoned by the driver at the scene of the accident. My older sibling and wife found me laying on the side of the road at the crash scene along with a Good Samaritan who found me first.

I still remember what she said to me when I was laying there in agony.

“I love you.” She said it for the first time.

Two months in. I’m an alcoholic. I’m laying on the side of the road with a broken and dislocated hip (yes, my left hip is titanium now), I’m helpless, low, literally at my bottom …and she chose to love me anyway.

From this point on, I’d love to say everything was honky dory. It was not. In fact, things got even worse. I was still trying to live a somewhat secular life, even after that. Still far from God (even though He rescued me from that wreck), addicted to porn, and addicted to alcohol. My wife picked me up. She carried me, emotionally and spiritually.

That same year, 2020, I lost my older sibling to suicide. Yep, the one who found me at the wreck…geez that’s hard to type out.

She was with me through that, every..single..step of the way. I remember just absolutely breaking down one night. Almost like the weight of the grief made me collapse. My wife picked me up. She carried me, emotionally and spiritually.

And it doesn’t end there. It gets worse.

One month later. Exactly one month later, I was fired from my job. This completely devastated me. I was hopeless. They had no empathy for me. Wouldn’t even approve unemployment. But my wife—My wife luckily had a job at the time. My wife picked me up. She carried me, emotionally and spiritually.

Just when I thought the bottom couldn’t drop any lower… it did.

After getting fired in November 2020, I wasn’t even able to jump back into the job hunt. I had a hip replacement surgery already scheduled for January 2021. Not optional. If I wanted to walk without pain for the rest of my life, it had to happen.

So I was stuck.

Two more months at home. No job and in pain. Waiting for surgery. Limping around frustrated and restless. It wasn’t exactly sunshine and rainbows. I was short-tempered. Bitter some days and quiet on others.

And through all of it… she stayed steady. She didn’t just love me when I was strong. She loved me when I was stuck.

My wife picked me up. She carried me, emotionally and spiritually.

Grace in Human Form

So what’s the point of me telling you all this?

At the beginning, I said my wife is the epitome of God’s grace. That’s not romantic exaggeration. Let me explain.

There’s a psychological principle called unconditional positive regard. It’s the idea that real love isn’t dependent on performance. It isn’t based on whether you’re impressive, successful, emotionally stable, or easy to deal with.

It’s love that says, “I see you fully… and I’m not leaving.”

Most relationships don’t operate that way. Most are transactional at some level. You perform well, I stay. You meet my needs, I feel secure. You fall apart too long, I reconsider.

That’s human nature. We are wired for self-protection. When chaos enters, people distance themselves. When someone becomes a burden, resentment can grow. When pain lasts longer than expected, commitment weakens.

Psychologists also talk about attachment under stress. Stress reveals everything. It exposes insecurity, magnifies cracks, and forces a choice: withdraw… or lean in.

When I was at my lowest — addicted, grieving, unemployed, bitter, physically broken — my wife leaned in. That’s not normal instinct. That’s covenant love.

And here’s where it gets spiritual:

The Bible says in Romans 5:8 that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

While we were still a mess. That’s grace. Grace is staying when someone is hard to stay for. Jesus didn’t love us because we were lovable, He loved us knowing we would fail Him. And He still chose the cross.

My wife’s love mirrored that in a way that shook me.

She saw the worst versions of me:

• The insecure one.

• The addicted one.

• The grieving one.

• The angry one.

• The unemployed one pacing around the house in sweatpants with a titanium hip and a bad attitude.

And she didn’t withdraw. She stayed.

Psychology calls that secure attachment — when someone becomes a safe base even during instability. Spiritually, I call it grace in human form. Her love confronted me. With steadiness. And, steady love does something powerful to a broken man. It makes you want to rise and overcome.

Here’s another psychological truth: people tend to become what they believe they are. If you treat a man like he’s disposable, he’ll live like he is. If you treat him like he’s redeemable, something inside him starts to fight again.

She treated me like I was redeemable.

That kind of love doesn’t excuse sin. It doesn’t ignore problems. But, it refuses to define a person by their lowest chapter.

And that’s exactly what Christ does.

He doesn’t leave us in the ditch or say, “Call Me when you’re better.” He binds wounds and restores dignity to call us to something higher.

My wife did that for me. And I didn’t deserve it.

But grace, by definition, is unearned. And that’s why I say she is the epitome of God’s grace.

Because I met Jesus in a lot of ways during those years…

But I saw Him clearly in the woman who refused to walk away.

I love you , you’re my everything.

A hidden note I left for my wife in our home:

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If you’re walking this battle and need a safe space to talk, pray, or find encouragement—join our Subscriber Chat on Substack.

We pray, talk honestly, and remind each other that freedom in Christ is possible.

Christian Hotline & Prayer Support

If you’re struggling or need someone to pray with you, please reach out:

National Suicide & Crisis Lifeline: Dial 988
Focus on the Family Prayer Line: 1-877-771-4357
The 700 Club Prayer Line: 1-800-700-7000
Chatnow (24/7 Christian Chat & Prayer):

https://chatnow.org

Call to Repentance

If you’ve been trying to earn your way into heaven, it’s time to stop striving and start surrendering. Today can be the day everything changes.
The Bible says in 2 Corinthians 6:2, “Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.”
Don’t wait for a better moment. Turn from your sin, believe in the finished work of Jesus Christ on the cross, and receive the gift of eternal life.
He is calling—respond to Him today.

Call to Action

If this message spoke to your heart, don’t keep it to yourself.
Share it with someone you love — and make sure to subscribe so you never miss more biblical truth, encouragement, and hope.
Let’s walk this journey of faith together.

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© 2026 The Narrow Path Collective. All Rights Reserved.
Restack if it helped you. Please don’t copy and paste it elsewhere. If you quote it, credit and link back—thank you.

Drinking starts as fun, but eventually leads into a trap.

You remember the loud laughs, cold drinks, and that invincible feeling that told us everything was fine. Yeah, that was a lie. Alcohol didn’t ruin us right away, but it did become the ground we stood on as everything else started to fade.

Sure–stress faded, anxiety left, and you built liquid confidence. But, eventually that stops working, and what used to be fun, isn’t so fun anymore. The excitement turns the habit into a necessity. And when something becomes habit forming, you start to depend on it.

What we once thought was freedom was actually escaping. An escape from ourselves.

Eventually, drinking wasn’t celebrating anymore. We were drinking to feel okay. And every time we reached for that glass (or bottle), something subtle but real was happening. It was slowly eroding our souls, one drink at a time.

Read on.

Related Article

Thomas

Drinking started for me back in high school. If you were willing to look hard enough, it wasn’t exactly difficult to find. The people I spent time with weren’t shining examples of restraint either, so the whole environment kind of nudged things along. Plus peer pressure, and suddenly drinking just felt like the normal thing to do. Eventually you give in, mostly because you want to fit in and be seen as one of the cool ones.

And to be honest, at first it was fun. I won’t pretend otherwise. Some of my favorite memories involve sitting around a card table with friends, laughing way too loud, trading sarcastic jabs, and pretending we didn’t have a care in the world.

But as the years went on, especially into my mid and late twenties, something changed. Drinking stopped being fun and quietly became routine. Then routine became a dependency. It got to the point where I felt like I needed it just to feel normal. A few beers a night turned into the standard and beer basically replaced water.

Somewhere along the way, what started as a habit slowly turned into a god… and I didn’t even notice it happening.

January 2020.

I won’t go deeper into that night here. Instead, I’m linking an article I wrote about it before. That night is why I don’t drink anymore. It’s why I have a titanium hip. And most importantly, it’s why I follow Jesus more closely today.

👇 👇 👇

Kristen:

I didn’t wake up one day and decide alcohol was my god.

That realization came quietly and uncomfortably. It was the night I noticed how automatic it had become.

A hard day? Drink.

A heavy feeling? Drink.

Lonely? Drink.

Celebrating? Drink.

I wasn’t doing it to party anymore. I was doing it to cope. What scared me wasn’t how often I drank, it was how quickly I reached for it. Before prayer, before sitting with my feelings, before asking God what He wanted me to learn in the moment. Alcohol became the thing I trusted to take the edge off life, and it worked. .until it didn’t.

It numbed the pain, but it also numbed my discernment.

It quieted my thoughts, but it also silenced God’s voice.

I told myself I had control but anything you need to function already has power over you. That’s when it hit me, this wasn’t just a habit, it was a substitute. I wasn’t worshiping alcohol with words, but with dependence, routine, and escape. I used to give it access to parts of me that were meant to be surrendered to God. Here’s the part I want to be honest about: God didn’t shame me. He didn’t yank it out of my hand in anger. He showed me, gently, that I was asking alcohol to do what only He could do. I stopped running from the discomfort. I started sitting with it, praying instead of pouring, and journaling instead of numbing. Healing didn’t happen overnight, but freedom started the moment I told the truth. Alcohol was never my peace — God always was, I just had to let Him be.

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Final Thoughts

Looking back now, it feels obvious. At the time, we were both completely oblivious to the wreckage we were causing our souls.

Addictions are a h*** of a thing. They slide in quietly, pull up a chair, and convince you they belong there. It promises comfort, relief, and control (masquerades as something pleasant, who does that remind you of?)… and for a while they even deliver. Until one day you realize the thing you leaned on is now the thing you can’t stand without.

And that realization is humbling, but also the start to real freedom.

Because the moment you tell the truth, the illusion starts to break. You stop pretending it’s harmless.

And, let’s not forget this: God isn’t waiting on the other side of that confession with disappointment. He’s waiting with open arms and patience you don’t feel like you deserve.

So turn from your sin. Run back to God. Come back home.

Join Our Subscriber Chat

If you’re walking this battle and need a safe space to talk, pray, or find encouragement—join our Subscriber Chat on Substack.

We pray, talk honestly, and remind each other that freedom in Christ is possible.

Christian Hotline & Prayer Support

If you’re struggling or need someone to pray with you, please reach out:

National Suicide & Crisis Lifeline: Dial 988
Focus on the Family Prayer Line: 1-877-771-4357
The 700 Club Prayer Line: 1-800-700-7000
Chatnow (24/7 Christian Chat & Prayer):

https://chatnow.org

Call to Repentance

If you’ve been trying to earn your way into heaven, it’s time to stop striving and start surrendering. Today can be the day everything changes.
The Bible says in 2 Corinthians 6:2, “Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.”
Don’t wait for a better moment. Turn from your sin, believe in the finished work of Jesus Christ on the cross, and receive the gift of eternal life.
He is calling—respond to Him today.

Subscribe now

Call to Action

If this message spoke to your heart, don’t keep it to yourself.
Share it with someone you love — and make sure to subscribe so you never miss more biblical truth, encouragement, and hope.
Let’s walk this journey of faith together.

© 2026 The Narrow Path Collective. All Rights Reserved.
Restack if it helped you. Please don’t copy and paste it elsewhere. If you quote it, credit and link back—thank you.

didn’t wake up one day and decide to stop obeying God. It was more subtle than that. Slowly and surely he became distant and eventually so far away from God that opposing Him just seemed like the right thing to do. Or so he thought.

Mick grew up in faith but only learned how to hide his secret sins well.

For years, his life looked like it was getting better. But inside, he was lying—to his wife, to himself, and eventually to God. He thought as long as he kept things buried, grace would cover it.

He found out the hard way, he was wrong.

Read on.

Related Article

A Childhood That Taught Me Extremes

childhood wasn’t normal. His parents divorced when he was seven. He’s 34 now, and the truth behind that split has never really been owned—but affairs on both sides seem to be the quiet truth.

After the divorce, he lived between two extremes.

At his mom’s house, Christianity meant fear. Everything was going to send you to hell. Music. TV. Anything outside church walls. Scripture wasn’t explained—it was weaponized. He learned to fear God, but never to know Him.

At his dad’s house, there were no rules at all. Women came and went. His dad married and divorced again, and during that time Mick and his brother were exposed to things young boys never should be. There was no discipline or boundaries.

Later, his stepfather became verbally abusive and controlling, eventually physical with his mom. Mick stayed grounded constantly, forced to work landscaping jobs, carrying a pressure that doesn’t show up on paper. By ninth grade, something in him had already started to crack.

By sixteen, the adults had given up. Mick moved in with his dad. That’s when lust stopped being a temptation and became a lifestyle. His father openly encouraged cheating—love one woman, keep the rest on the side, just don’t get caught. Mick believed him.

Around the same time, he fell in with the wrong crowd and dove into the death metal scene. He didn’t deny Christ existed, just decided to oppose Him.

Running Hard and Falling Fast

At seventeen, Mick joined the Army to escape home. A teenage kid, alone, with no moral compass and full access to alcohol—he was headed somewhere dark fast.

By eighteen, he’d deployed. When he came back, sleep disappeared. So he drank, and he drank a lot.

During that season, he entered a toxic relationship filled with cheating and instability. She got pregnant. He married her trying to “do the right thing.”

That collapsed quickly.

After a brutal fight, she took a bottle of birth control pills and miscarried. Mick watched. That left him numb, angry, and absolutely empty. Shortly after, she left him and he hasn’t seen her since. That was 2012.

The next few years were divorce papers, heavy drinking, and sleeping around nonstop.

In 2013, Mick met the woman who is now his wife—while still married. He didn’t tell her but they started a relationship anyway, fueled by alcohol and desire.

At work, he excelled and made rank fast. He looked successful. But, he was doing what most men do: escapism. Trying to stay busy while burying the deep issues down inside. The uncomfortable truth? He was unstable and spiraling.

A Life Built on Lies

When she found out about his marriage, she stayed. But that made the problems multiply. He finalized his divorce and married her the same week. The marriage began already bleeding.

Mick was drinking a fifth of whiskey most nights. Entire chunks of those years are gone from his memory. He disappeared for nights, lying effortlessly about where he’d been. And, two things made that easy:

• His father normalized cheating.

• A childhood of constant punishment taught him how to lie convincingly.

Eventually, it all blew up.

His wife found him passed out drunk, phone open to another woman. When confronted, Mick snapped. It turned physical—not hitting, but terrifying. She tried to run and he tried to stop her. A neighbor intervened and the police were called. They both went to jail.

The Army found out.

During a no-contact order, Mick moved in with another woman and went right back to the same ol patterns: drinking and cheating. When the order expired, his wife reached out and said she wanted a divorce.

For the first time in his life, Mick said something different.

“We need God.”

The Lie That Finally Broke Me

They went to church and met with a pastor. Mick prayed a sinner’s prayer. There was visible change—but massive lies stayed buried. He told himself some sins were “between him and God.” That lie kept him comfortable.

He deployed again.

When he came home, things were calm—for a while. Then he called the woman he’d lived with during the no-contact order. She told him she’d been pregnant and he had disappeared. She had an abortion.

It wrecked him. He drank again. Stayed the night. Lied again.

They moved to Alaska. Outwardly, life improved.

Years passed. He stayed faithful physically. They attended a charismatic church that didn’t preach the gospel. They served in youth ministry. Their first child was born in 2019.

Then COVID shut everything down.

At home, Mick and his wife began reading the Bible—slowly, verse by verse. For the first time, Mick actually saw Scripture and conviction followed. The gospel finally made sense.

During a book study, they came to one question:

“Is there any sin you need to confess?”

Mick looked his wife in the eyes and said, “No.”

The moment the word left his mouth, fear hit him like a freight train. The reality of hell became real. He saw himself clearly, saved in name only. Spiritually dead and a liar.

The Walk Home

At the park later that day, pushing his daughter on a swing, Mick knew his testimony was a lie. He knew salvation was worth more than hiding and he knew the truth had to come out.

That walk home is when Mick knows he was saved.

That night, he confessed everything. It took days. His wife was shattered. Years of deception spilled into the light. It hurt deeply—and it healed deeply.

She stayed. At first, for their daughter. Then God healed her heart. She even apologized to Mick for staying only for the child—something he never deserved.

Nothing Left to Hide

Today, six years later, they have four daughters.

Nothing is hidden or feared. Their story has helped others—because of how honest and open they are about it.

Mick isn’t the man he was and he’s finally free.

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He grew up in a conservative American home.
Faith was around, but it stayed in the background—like a dusty family photo no one really looked at anymore.

He was confirmed in the Lutheran church, went through the motions, and learned the right Christian words. But…. belief never really took root.

There were no heroes to imitate or deep sense of meaning to chase. So, he escaped instead—sports, video games, and distractions that made the days move faster.

But College? Well that cracked something new open.

Philosophy. Political science. Big ideas. Big questions.
For the first time, his mind felt alive. He flirted with the idea of becoming a professor—someone who could explain the world to others.

But that path felt risky. Unstable and too uncertain.

So he chose the safer option.
A Job, mortgage, and a marriage.
A respectable life. The perfect American dream, right?

Wrong. Underneath it all, there was an unsettling reality knew he was about to butt heads with.

Read on.

Related Article

The Descent

Everything looked successful.
But, in real life he was quietly unraveling.

He hadn’t really grown up—at least not where it counted. Debt piled up and responsibility felt heavy. That’s when entertainment became an addiction and avoidance became a habit. And, under the weight of all this, his marriage was quietly suffering a heavy strain that he had avoided.

Just when you thought that was already enough to handle, then came infertility.

Eventually, they were blessed with two children through a donor. A miracle, honestly. But instead of confidence, fatherhood exposed something painful.

He felt completely unequipped.

Leading a family felt like being handed the controls of a plane mid-flight with no training manual. This is when anxiety came in and took over.

So, he searched for answers everywhere except God:

• Old philosophy books.

• Self-help shelves.

• Leadership podcasts.

• Even the occult.

Nothing worked.

The Breaking Point

Then RSV hit the house.

Sick kids, crying, and chaos.

PAUSE HERE – For those with children, you know exactly how stressful this can become. Moving on…

And instead of stepping up, he froze.

Anxiety locked his body in place. He couldn’t even bring himself to be near his own children. That realization cut deeper than fear—it exposed how empty he really was.

In desperation, he turned on a podcast.
Jordan Peterson and Jonathan Pageau.

Then Pageau said something that landed like a brick to the chest:

The crucifixion is “the foundation of the world.”

“Well that’s terrifying to think about,” he thought to himself.

If that were true… then everything rested on something he didn’t understand—and certainly hadn’t submitted to.

Out of options, he stepped into the shower, dropped to his knees, and prayed to a Messiah he wasn’t even sure he believed in.

Just a simple promise:
If You save me, I’ll give You my life.

He felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. He didn’t feel changed in that moment, but he survived the day.

The Slow, Quiet Transformation

A few days later, something happened! A nudge that led him to go to church.

This time was different.

The songs actually made sense….and the sermon? Landed.
It felt like someone finally turned the volume up on a frequency that had always been there and over the next few months, everything shifted:

• Responsibility replaced avoidance.

• Old habits got cut loose.

• Love started showing up in practical ways.

He grew hungry to know God and spent hours disappeared into theology and scripture. The same mind that once chased empty ideas was being retrained.

In July, he was baptized. Still no thunder. But a few days later, driving home from work, something happened. A wave of peace & love overwhelmed him. It was unmistakable.

Grace he didn’t earn.
Mercy he didn’t deserve.

The New Reality

Life didn’t become perfect—but it became anchored.

His marriage grew stronger, prayer became normal, and the family moved onto a piece of land that felt like provision, not coincidence.

Even social media—once an escape—got exposed for what it was. Another place to hide. So he walked away.

That old intellectual hunger didn’t disappear. It found its right place.

Scripture no longer felt like a collection of disconnected stories, but a single, intentional design—layered with structure, rhythm, and meaning. What once seemed random now felt held together.

Where he used to see emptiness, he now sees intention and order.
God’s fingerprints woven through everything.

And his purpose?

It isn’t complicated. It’s simply to learn what is true, live honestly, and pass it on to others.

Join Our Subscriber Chat

If you’re walking this battle and need a safe space to talk, pray, or find encouragement—join our Subscriber Chat on Substack.

We pray, talk honestly, and remind each other that freedom in Christ is possible.

Christian Hotline & Prayer Support

If you’re struggling or need someone to pray with you, please reach out:

National Suicide & Crisis Lifeline: Dial 988
Focus on the Family Prayer Line: 1-877-771-4357
The 700 Club Prayer Line: 1-800-700-7000
Chatnow (24/7 Christian Chat & Prayer):

https://chatnow.org

Call to Repentance

If you’ve been trying to earn your way into heaven, it’s time to stop striving and start surrendering. Today can be the day everything changes.
The Bible says in 2 Corinthians 6:2, “Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.”
Don’t wait for a better moment. Turn from your sin, believe in the finished work of Jesus Christ on the cross, and receive the gift of eternal life.
He is calling—respond to Him today.

Call to Action

If this message spoke to your heart, don’t keep it to yourself.
Share it with someone you love — and make sure to subscribe so you never miss more biblical truth, encouragement, and hope.
Let’s walk this journey of faith together.

Subscribe now

© 2026 The Narrow Path Collective. All Rights Reserved.
Restack if it helped you. Please don’t copy and paste it elsewhere. If you quote it, credit and link back—thank you.

This testimony doesn’t fit neatly into church-shaped boxes. And honestly, it never has. It isn’t clean, quick, or inspirational in the way people expect. It’s long, layered, and took decades to understand.

For most of his life, he thought his biggest problem was sin.

Lust, alcohol, anger and bad decisions stacked on top of worse ones.

Compounding sin and suffering if you will…

But what he didn’t realize—until decades later—was that sin was just the smoke. The real fire was a lot deeper and he didn’t trust God enough to sit with pain. So he did what men always try to do: fix themselves.

With women, distraction, numbing, and rebellion. It worked just well enough to keep him stuck….and comfortable…until he wasn’t.

This is ’s story. And trust me, you want to stick around to read this one.

Related Article

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A Childhood That Looked Fine From the Street

He was born into instability. Divorce came early. Then remarriage. Then divorce again. For a brief stretch—just a couple of years—life looked normal. With bike rides, playing ball in the street, and friends sleeping over. From the outside, everything passed with flying colors if you had to take the child upbringing examination test.

But behind the curtains? Yea, no. It definitely wasn't.

His mother drank heavily and relied on prescription drugs to manage depression and mood swings. Eventually, his brother was sent away to live with his father in Florida. That loss hit hard. Not long after, his mother overdosed and was hospitalized. While there, she had an affair. The marriage ended. Whatever sense of safety existed vanished.

Around that same time, he lost his dog—the one constant source of comfort he had. He was told the dog would be kept by friends and that he could visit anytime. Instead, it was gotten rid of. That moment mattered more than people realize. Something hardened in him after that. Permanently.

School fell apart. Grades tanked. Rebellion followed. Smoking. Drinking. Anything that dulled the noise inside. Moves piled up. Another remarriage. More instability. Eventually, he was expelled from high school. At sixteen, he was thrown out of the house and stayed with friends, drifting.

By nineteen, his girlfriend was pregnant. They married out of obligation more than wisdom. A child was born. Responsibility arrived. Addiction stayed.

Alcohol had teeth. Porn had claws. Lust was constant. Even after his newborn daughter landed in the hospital days after birth, he stopped at home first—to indulge. Drinking wasn’t daily, but when it happened, it went too far. Anger followed.

The Night That Almost Ended Everything

One night, drunk and enraged, he decided his brother deserved to die. He put a .45 in his waistband, drove to his brother’s house, and planned to shoot him without a word. Only one thing stopped it—his brother wasn’t home.

The next morning, the weight of what almost happened crushed him. He knew he was out of control. He didn’t know much about God, but he knew people said God could save. So he prayed the only way he knew how and surrendered everything, desperate for help.

What followed was intense zeal:

• Scripture.

• Discipline.

• Cutting off anything that felt worldly.

• Pornographic books burned in a barrel—though even then, part of him resisted.

• Reading the Bible like a man dying of thirst.

Trying to Obey Without Being Healed

Still, the battle with lust never fully ended. Short victories came and falls followed. Shame lingered and all he heard was the usual Christian explanations, but nothing brought lasting freedom.

His wife didn’t share his seriousness about faith. She attended church, but his hunger for holiness created distance between them. He wasn’t interested in being a “good Christian.” He wanted to be true before God. That gap became a fracture.

Church life didn’t help. A non-denominational church he trusted became controlling and fear-driven. Anxiety grew unbearable, God felt dangerous, and eventually he walked away from faith altogether just to survive.

When Numbing Becomes a Skill

Years later, an anxiety attack dragged him back. He tried again. Fought again. Even vowed purity—and kept it for six months, his longest stretch of victory. When he fell, it broke him. He decided he simply wasn’t cut out to be a man of God.

His marriage collapsed. Both numbed themselves—him with alcohol and lust, her with her own escapes. Violence was gone, but numbness replaced it. Eventually, he left, convinced it had to end. He sought comfort elsewhere and entered an emotional affair. The night he drove to that woman’s house, dread settled over him like a warning. He ignored it.

Marriages Built on Pain Instead of Trust

Twelve years of misery followed. A second marriage born in rebellion produced suffering he wouldn’t wish on anyone. Still, he learned—about compassion, brokenness, and how religious platitudes fail wounded people. God remained faithful through discipline and mercy alike.

That marriage ended too and loneliness followed. The addiction deepened and he demanded God give him a woman—or else. Be careful what you ask for…because he got it. One appeared immediately and the pattern repeated:

• Infatuation.

• Alcohol.

• Five years of slow decay.

Even marriage couldn’t fix what was broken….then everything collapsed.

The Moment Bargaining Stopped

One evening, sitting alone, he stopped bargaining with God. Stopped asking for fixes. He looked honestly at thirty years of rebellion and confessed all of it—every shortcut, every half-hearted repentance, every attempt to heal pain with counterfeit love.

That night was surrender.

He finally understood: you can’t ask God to fix what He never ordained. Healing comes through obedience. And obedience, when you’re broken, hurts.

God answered.

Things shifted quickly. Direction became clear. Strength came to walk away. Healing followed obedience, not the other way around.

Today, he stands free from addiction for over eighteen months. Surrounded by faithful people. Still human. Still learning. But no longer enslaved.

What remains true is simple:

• Obedience costs less than rebellion.

• God stays faithful even when we don’t.

• Mercy doesn’t expire.

• And it’s never too late to rebuild—if you’re willing to tear down what was built on the wrong foundation.

Grace met him late.

And, it met him fully.

I dont use buy me a coffee….sorry??

Join Our Subscriber Chat

If you’re walking this battle and need a safe space to talk, pray, or find encouragement—join our Subscriber Chat on Substack.

We pray, talk honestly, and remind each other that freedom in Christ is possible.

Christian Hotline & Prayer Support

If you’re struggling or need someone to pray with you, please reach out:

National Suicide & Crisis Lifeline: Dial 988
Focus on the Family Prayer Line: 1-877-771-4357
The 700 Club Prayer Line: 1-800-700-7000
Chatnow (24/7 Christian Chat & Prayer):

https://chatnow.org

Call to Repentance

If you’ve been trying to earn your way into heaven, it’s time to stop striving and start surrendering. Today can be the day everything changes.
The Bible says in 2 Corinthians 6:2, “Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.”
Don’t wait for a better moment. Turn from your sin, believe in the finished work of Jesus Christ on the cross, and receive the gift of eternal life.
He is calling—respond to Him today.

Call to Action

If this message spoke to your heart, don’t keep it to yourself.
Share it with someone you love — and make sure to subscribe so you never miss more biblical truth, encouragement, and hope.
Let’s walk this journey of faith together.

© 2026 The Narrow Path Collective. All Rights Reserved.
Restack if it helped you. Please don’t copy and paste it elsewhere. If you quote it, credit and link back—thank you.

(Disclaimer: there were many held back tears while typing this article)

Here’s the truth…I’ve been putting this off for a while.

It’s been sitting in my drafts for 4 months. Why? I don’t want to bring up the memories again.

But, grief is random. It comes when you least expect it. Especially at times when you want it to go away. And, writing seems to be a healthy outlet for me.

It was just a random Wednesday night. Nothing out of the ordinary. I didn’t expect my world to be flipped upside down….but it did. A memory that will always stick with me. A hole in my heart that will never mend. What am I talking about?

Sibling Loss. But not just sibling loss. Suicide loss.

There’s no polite way to talk about losing a sibling to suicide—especially when that sibling is the one you always thought would outlive everybody because he just knew stuff. My brother Brian wasn’t just smart; the man was basically a walking Google search bar. Ask him about cars, history, mechanical engineering, which bolt should go where, or what country had the best coffee—he’d have an answer before you finished the question.

And then one day… silence.

This is getting really hard to type….bear with me please.

What I am about to share with you is my testimony of surviving sibling loss to suicide, navigating the kind of grief that doesn’t sit politely in the corner, and clinging to faith when faith was the only thing left standing.

If you read this far….please…check on your siblings. I beg you. Even if you aren’t on good terms with them. Make amends and forgive.

I don’t say this to make anyone feel guilty but to warn them: time is short and you never know the last time you will speak to your brother/sister/step sibling.

Related Article

25% Off Forever Ends Soon

Brian: The Adventurous Navy Engineer With a Laugh You Couldn’t Ignore

Brian served in the United States Navy as a mechanical engineer. He traveled the world—literally. Half the time I didn’t know what continent he was on, but I remember him sending pictures of mountains, boats, sunsets, or some tiny street vendor you’d only find if you got lost… which he was good at doing.

He loved muscle cars… the louder the better. He loved kayaking and anything that involved being outside where the rest of us were complaining about the heat, bugs, or humidity. Not him. He’d just laugh and say something sarcastic like, “Nature builds character.”

He was hilarious. Sharp. Quick. The kind of guy that could make a funeral director laugh. And he didn’t just know things—he understood them. Veteran life. Engineering. People. Life. You could hand him a broken engine or a broken moment and he’d figure it out.

Which is why October 28, 2020 never made sense.

The Day Everything Changed

Surviving a sibling’s suicide is like having the ground snatched from under you and being expected to keep walking. You don’t get to prepare and its devastating.

Veteran suicide is a wound that hits differently. You know they carried things silently. I don’t have a clue what my brother was holding and I never will.

You know the military trains them to “push through,” and they fight battles long after coming home. But knowing doesn’t soften anything.

I don’t even remember the full conversation of that day. I just remember the weight. The kind that sits on your chest and dares you to breathe.

I wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary. My wife, Kali, was cooking when I received the phone call from my Father.

“Hey Mark, please come to the hospital. Your brother shot himself and he’s not going to make it.”

I’ll never forget that. I didn’t even know what to say to my Father. I was in such shock and denial.

“I’m on my way Dad!” I quickly exclaimed to him. I bolted to the kitchen and informed my wife what happened. I quickly ran out of the house. I hopped in my truck and peeled out of the drive way.

Looking back now, I didn’t really know what to think in that moment other than hurry up and get to the hospital.

I was in denial. I didn’t want to accept what had just happened.

“Brian? Really? He would never do that,” I thought to myself.

But humans have this tendency to try and block things when something extremely traumatic has just dropped on them.

At The Hospital

My family and I waited in a holding room adjacent to the ER at our local hospital.

I’ll never forget when the doctors walked in. They spoke to my parents directly, “what you’re about to see is not normal.”

Not normal? What did they mean by that?

My father…immediately wept. But not like an adult crying. He cried like a child. I didn’t see my father anymore. I saw a hurt little boy who needed comfort.

One of the doctors laid a hand on his shoulder and escorted him and my Mother to the ICU.

I didn’t like this. Not at all.

In The Room

Eventually, the doctors came for me and my younger siblings. The walk was long…..too long. I was nervous more than anything. What was I about to see?

As we approached the door I became extremely anxious. I didn’t know what to expect.

We walked in…and I saw everything.

My brother was lifeless. Only kept alive by machines pumping air into his lungs. He was brain dead. His body just barely hanging on. The compression from the gun shot made his head swell like a balloon. A towel was draped over him so it would be less gruesome.

Like my father, I wept immediately.

I kept crying, “my brother, my brother, my brother.” That’s all I could get out. I knew he was gone. Forever. Never to return.

The nurse informed us that he would only be alive for hours. So, my family and I waited. We sat there and held his hand, prayed, kissed his forehead, and whispered our love to him.

Eventually he became cold to the touch and we knew the time was near.

The machines started buzzing like crazy and his blood pressure spiked. We knew this was it.

We all watched as my brother took his final breath. And that was that. His chest didn’t move anymore. He was still. Lifeless.

My brother was dead.

We all walked up to him, kissed his forehead, and said our goodbyes.

That was the last day I saw my brother. October 28, 2020.

Walking Through Grief When the Road Doesn’t Make Sense

People talk about “healing” like it’s a straight line. Spoiler: it’s not. It’s more like a Kentucky back road—unexpected turns, bumps, potholes, and one random chicken crossing for no reason.

Some days, the memories feel like warm sunlight. Other days, they hit like a wave you didn’t see coming.

Losing a veteran sibling to suicide brings layers most people don’t understand:

• The guilt you can’t explain

• The questions you can’t answer

• The “what ifs” that try to move in like unwanted roommates

• The tension between honoring their service and grieving their pain

But faith kept showing up. Just real steady—like a quiet hand on your shoulder reminding you that grief is real, but God is still God.

Give As You Feel Led

The Faith That Carried Us

There’s a verse people quote a lot in grief:
“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted…”
But when your heart is actually broken, that hits different.

We held on to faith because we didn’t have anything else.

Just faith.

And maybe that’s the point.

We learned this:
God does His best work in the space where we admit we have nothing left to bring. Grief didn’t push God away—it pulled Him closer. Tears became prayers. Silence became worship. Confusion became surrender.

And slowly—even if awkwardly—hope came back.

Why I Share This Story

Surviving the suicide of a sibling is lonely. Losing a veteran brother adds a whole different ache. And yet, I know there’s someone reading this who’s standing exactly where I stood the day the world spun off its hinges.

So hear me clearly:

You are not weird for hurting this long.
Or weak for missing them this much.
You are not faithless for asking God questions.
And you are not alone.

My brother Brian is more than his last day.
Your loved one is too.

Veteran suicide awareness matters because behind every uniform is a soul carrying weight we can’t always see. Sharing our testimonies matters because they remind someone else, “Hey, you’re going to get through this—even if right now you don’t believe it.”

Dear Reader If You Made It This Far…..

You’re probably wondering something a lot of people are scared to say out loud:

“Do people who die by suicide go to Heaven?”

I used to wrestle with that question too. It’s the kind of thought that sits in the back of your mind like a weight you don’t want to pick up… but you carry it anyway.

Here’s what I can tell you.

When my brother died, he had a Bible beside him. Right there next to him. And I can’t tell you what prayers he whispered or what battles he was fighting in those final moments… but I can tell you this:

Anyone who genuinely reaches for Jesus—even in their weakest, darkest, most desperate moment—is not turned away.

Jesus doesn’t say, “Come to Me… but only if you’re doing well.”
He doesn’t say, “I’ll save you… unless you’re struggling.”
He says:

“Whoever comes to Me I will never cast out.”

That verse hits differently when you’re grieving someone you love.

So if you’re sitting there with that question beating around in your chest, take comfort in something Jesus Himself taught:

Didn’t He leave the ninety-nine for the one?

Think about that.
He didn’t wait for the lost sheep to fix itself.

He went after it.
He carried it home.

If Jesus chases ordinary sinners like us, why wouldn’t He run after someone who was hurting so deeply they couldn’t see a way forward?

I believe Jesus met my brother in that moment of desperation.
I believe grace is bigger than the battles we can’t see.
And I believe the Shepherd doesn’t stop being a Shepherd just because the valley is dark.

So if you’re wondering about your loved one… take heart.

Let Jesus handle the part you can’t. He’s far more merciful, patient, and tender than we usually give Him credit for.

I have hope.

You should too.

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Rest In Peace Brian. I Miss You Dearly.

met Jesus in a kitchen at five years old… and spent the rest of her childhood learning what it meant to cling to Him when everything else fell apart.

Beatings. Rejection. Spiritual confusion. Families that promised love but demanded she deny Christ. Again and again, the world tried to take Him from her—but every time she cried out, Jesus stayed. And, It wasn’t always easy answers or instant resolution. It was protection, provision, and a quiet faith that refused to die.

This isn’t a story about a perfect life.
It’s about a faithful God who never let go—no matter how dark the room became.

And it raises a hard, honest question for all of us:

If God can clothe the lilies and feed the birds… can He be trusted with a life like this?
“Consider the lilies of the field…” (Matthew 6:28–30)

Stick with me. This testimony has something to say to anyone who’s ever wondered if God really sees them.

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A Faith That Started Early

Her oldest sister led her in the sinner’s prayer at home, standing in the kitchen. Even at that young age (five years old), she knew she needed Jesus. There was already a hunger in her heart for something more—something she wasn’t receiving at home.

Her home life was emotionally neglectful and abusive. There was physical abuse as well. Her stepfather was Jewish and emotionally abusive, often enabling the harm instead of stopping it. From early on, she felt different—like the black sheep, the outcast. While others around her accepted ideas like evolution without question, she didn’t. She didn’t have a solid Christian foundation at home—only what she could gather from others—but even then, Jesus seemed to keep her protected. She believes now that He spared her from even worse harm.

When False Faith Didn’t Sit Right

Around age six or seven, she spent time with neighbors who were Catholic. They taught her the rosary and introduced her to Catholicism. She routinely visited those neighbors. Once, she visited their new church, when nobody was in it except the two families. Something felt deeply wrong to her. Even as a child, she knew this wasn’t the Christianity of Jesus. She recognizes now that it was the Lord warning her spirit.

Fast forward to age nine, during Christmas, she was simply standing in a room where her parents kept the Christmas presents. That moment led to her first severe beating. She was beaten brutally. In the middle of it, she cried out to Jesus to protect her. And somehow, every time, the abuse stopped short of becoming even worse. As the beatings continued over time, she would cry out to Jesus again and again because the pain was unbearable—and He continued to protect her.

Around the same period, she visited relatives in Georgia on her stepfather’s side of the family, who were Jewish. Her stepfather’s mother’s husband confronted her harshly when she spoke about Jesus, demanding, “Were you there?” He aggressively challenged her faith, even though she was only seven. She didn’t know how to defend herself with words—only with what she felt in her spirit. Her parents stood by and did nothing, later telling her she wasn’t allowed to defend her faith.

Despite everything, she always knew Jesus was with her. Whenever she had the chance, she went to church. She always went to the altar. She explored different churches over the years, but the message often felt watered down.

(Pictured below, a poem that kept going throughout her childhood)

Drifting, Doubting, and Wanting Belonging

Around age eighteen or nineteen, she went through a deep crisis of faith. High school had led her into poor decisions. She was using the home computer one day, and when her mother discovered it and demanded the password (which was written down & kept in a kitchen drawer), she refused. This resulted in a brutal beating—worse than before. She fought back only to survive, genuinely afraid she might be killed.

Afterward, her mother kicked her out with nothing. No belongings. No glasses. No backpack. Just the clothes she was wearing. She stayed with a classmate and his family for a time. His mother was involved in astrology and predictions, though she didn’t understand then that it was demonic.

Later, she moved in with another family—a Jewish family who were also Freemasons, though she didn’t know what that meant at the time. She wanted a family more than anything—more than even Jesus. On the outside, they looked perfect. Siblings. Structure. Everything she had longed for. But God eventually revealed that the dysfunction ran deep. The mother rejected Jesus as the Son of God. The father was born Jewish, and both were involved in Masonic orders.

Desperate to belong, she even considered joining the Freemasons. The family offered to adopt her—but with one condition: she would have to reject Jesus Christ. At this point, she was far from God, even involved in the Gay-Straight Alliance club. She is nowhere near that now, but it shows how far she had drifted.

The Prayer God Refused to Ignore

She prayed a desperate prayer:
“God, if You’re really real, keep me. But if You’re not, let me go.”

She spent months wrestling, praying, and thinking. God never let her go.

When she finally told the family she could not reject Jesus—that she could not stop believing in Him—they turned against her. After she moved out, they tried to destroy her reputation and dragged her name through the mud.

She returned to church again, trying to reconcile her relationship with Jesus, but still felt empty—until she realized the Bible itself is the true doctrine, not church tradition.

Over the years, her family has been homeless five times. Yet every single time, God provided—food, shelter, money, gift cards, free meals from strangers. They never gave up on their faith, and God never failed to provide exactly what was needed.

We can learn from her testimony, that we should always trust in God’s provision. As it is written:

Matthew 6:28–30

“And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field… will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?”

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Christian Hotline & Prayer Support

If you’re struggling or need someone to pray with you, please reach out.

National Suicide & Crisis Lifeline: Dial 988
Focus on the Family Prayer Line: 1-877-771-4357
The 700 Club Prayer Line: 1-800-700-7000
Billy Graham Evangelistic Association: 1-888-388-2683
Chatnow (24/7 Christian Chat & Prayer):

https://chatnow.org

You are not alone. Someone is ready to listen and pray with you right now.

Call to Repentance

If you’ve been trying to earn your way into heaven, it’s time to stop striving and start surrendering. Today can be the day everything changes. The Bible says in 2 Corinthians 6:2, “Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.” Don’t wait for a better moment. Turn from your sin, believe in the finished work of Jesus Christ on the cross, and receive the gift of eternal life. He is calling—respond to Him today.

Call to Action

If this message spoke to your heart, don’t keep it to yourself. Share it with someone you love—and make sure to subscribe so you never miss more biblical truth, encouragement, and hope. Let’s walk this journey of faith together.

© 2026 The Narrow Path Collective. All Rights Reserved.
Restack if it helped you. Please don’t copy and paste it elsewhere. If you quote it, credit and link back—thank you.

I’m Mark, and this space is for the wanderers, the worn out, and the ones still wrestling with God at 2 a.m. I don’t have all the answers, but I know the One who does—and I’m learning to trust Him more.

If this message meets you where you are, stick around. Subscribe, share, or simply pray with me as we walk this narrow road together.

And, if you feel led to support my ministry, be sure to buy the next coffee! God Bless!

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“For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.” – Luke 19:10 (ESV)

A Punk Kid Searching for Truth

was just nineteen years old, living in Southern California in 1984. He dyed his hair, blasted Bauhaus and Siouxsie and the Banshees on repeat, and tuned in to KROQ out of Pasadena. Christianity wasn’t on his radar. In fact, anything that looked “normal” wasn’t.

But deep down, he was hungry for truth—he just didn’t know where to find it. The world told him to live fast and die free, but every party, every high, and every philosophy left him emptier than before.

He carried invisible wounds. A priest had molested him when he was in second grade, and that pain followed him for years like a shadow that never faded. “I don’t want your world and your pain anymore,” he thought one night. He was done.

A Candlefish in the Darkness

One afternoon, Robert grabbed the mail and tossed it on the counter. A new issue of National Geographic caught his eye. Inside were photos of glowing deep-sea creatures—tiny flickers of light in total darkness.

He whispered, “Wow… candlefish.”

Something about that image stuck with him: life surrounded by darkness, yet carrying light from within.

Later, those glowing fish would remind him of Jesus’ words in John 8:12:

“I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”

Heaven and Hell Collide

Back in his room, Robert had Ocean Rain by Echo and the Bunnymen spinning on his record player. He wasn’t really paying attention—until the lyrics from “The Yo Yo Man” stopped him cold:

“You know when heaven and hell collide, there are no in-betweens.”

It was like lightning struck his soul.

All this time, Robert had convinced himself he could stay neutral—neither for God nor against Him. But that lyric shattered his illusion. Jesus’ words echoed in his heart:

“He who is not with Me is against Me.” – Matthew 12:30

There are no in-betweens.

A Cousin Transformed

Robert’s cousin Cliff had recently become a Christian. Down at Lake Elsinore one weekend, Robert noticed something strange. He used to “see” people’s auras through his New Age practices, but Cliff’s was different now—not red, not gold—just clean.

That word hit him hard: clean.

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.” – 2 Corinthians 5:17

God was quietly stirring Robert’s heart.

The Voice That Changed Everything

A few weeks later, Robert stood in his room, ready to perform his usual morning “intentions.” But he stopped.

“What do I even want?” he muttered. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

Then, as he turned toward the crucifix on his wall, something supernatural happened. He heard a voice—not out loud, but undeniable inside his spirit:

“I am not a teacher. I am not a prophet. I am the Son of God.
I alone defeated death. I showed my power in the Resurrection.
Robert, if you will follow Me, you will be with Me forever.”

He froze.

All he could say was, “I don’t know where to go!”

But he knew this much—he had to ask Jesus to show him the way.

June 18, 1985 — The Night He Said Yes

Two weeks later, Robert found himself at a small Bible study in a tile warehouse in West Covina. The group was led by a man named Guido, and that night, surrounded by humble people and folding chairs, the presence of God met him there.

Robert said yes.

He accepted Jesus Christ as his Lord and Savior—and nothing was ever the same again.

The Same Jesus Still Knocks

Forty years later, Robert still remembers that moment vividly. Not because of the warehouse or the people—but because Jesus came to him when he least deserved it and most needed it.

And that same Jesus stands at your door today.

“Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him.” – Revelation 3:20

You can’t stay neutral. Heaven and hell have already collided. The choice is yours.

What This Teaches Us

Robert’s story reminds us that Jesus still comes to people in the middle of their mess. He doesn’t wait for us to get clean first—He makes us clean. His light shines even in the darkest places, and His love breaks through any wall we build around our pain.

Call to Repentance

If you’ve been trying to earn your way into heaven, it’s time to stop striving and start surrendering. Today can be the day everything changes. The Bible says in 2 Corinthians 6:2, “Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.” Don’t wait for a better moment. Turn from your sin, believe in the finished work of Jesus Christ on the cross, and receive the gift of eternal life. He is calling—respond to Him today.

Call to Action

If this message spoke to your heart, don’t keep it to yourself. Share it with someone you love—and make sure to subscribe so you never miss more biblical truth, encouragement, and hope. Let’s walk this journey of faith together.

Subscribe now

Share

I’m Mark, and this space is for the wanderers, the worn out, and the ones still wrestling with God at 2 a.m. I don’t have all the answers, but I know the One who does—and I’m learning to trust Him more.

If this message meets you where you are, stick around. Subscribe, share, or simply pray with me as we walk this narrow road together.

And, if you feel led to support my ministry, be sure to buy the next coffee! God Bless!

Support Our Ministry!

The Youth Group Kid

grew up in a quiet suburb just outside the big city—close enough to hear the hum of traffic, but far enough to know your neighbors by name. His parents were good folks—steady believers who didn’t preach much but lived what they believed. The Bibles on the shelves weren’t just decoration, and “grace before meals” was as normal as passing the mashed potatoes.

As a kid, Jason loved youth group. It felt like home—a place where he didn’t have to pretend. The youth director, Mrs. Betty, greeted him with the kind of smile that said, you matter. He went on mission trips, led prayers, even spoke at youth services. From the outside, he looked like the poster child for faith.

But under all that… something was missing.

Going Through the Motions

When Jason left for college, his faith fell apart faster than he ever expected. He didn’t lose it in a single moment—it just quietly slipped through the cracks.

He still had a Bible on his nightstand, but it mostly collected dust. He joined a fraternity, started drinking, and liked who he became when he was buzzed—louder, funnier, confident.

He still played the Christian role when needed. Summer mission trips. Emotional altar calls. Crocodile tears and half-hearted promises to change. But deep down, Jason knew the truth—he was performing, not believing.

There was a gap between what he knew in his head and what he felt in his heart.

“This people honors me with their lips, but their heart is far from me.” – Matthew 15:8

The Mask Cracks

College made hiding easy. But hiding slowly hollowed Jason out.
He became sarcastic, guarded, and mean. He used humor like a sword—cutting others before they could cut him. He wanted people to laugh, not because he was funny, but because laughter kept him safe from being truly known.

Then one day, a coworker sat him down and said eight words that burned into his heart:

“I hate coming to work because of you.”

Jason’s stomach dropped. Shame and anger wrestled for control. He couldn’t even remember how he responded, but he never forgot those words. They exposed the ugly truth he’d been running from—he had become the very kind of person he used to despise.

It didn’t change him overnight, but it cracked something open.

“For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul?” – Matthew 16:26

The Breaking Point

Not long after, Jason made a choice that shattered one of the few real friendships he had left.
He betrayed someone who had trusted him completely.

When confronted, he saw the pain in his friend’s eyes—and it crushed him. He quit his job out of guilt, not obligation. Punishing himself felt like the only thing he deserved.

He was at his lowest—ashamed, restless, and spiritually empty.
That’s when God sent help.

A trusted friend took him out to dinner and listened as Jason spilled everything—the lies, the drinking, the guilt. When he was done, his friend leaned in and said quietly,

“That’s not who you are.”

Those five words became a turning point.

“When he came to himself, he said, ‘I will arise and go to my father…’” – Luke 15:17-18

Grace in the Back Row

Jason didn’t think he belonged in church anymore. But his friend invited him, and he reluctantly went—expecting lightning to strike the second he walked in.

It didn’t.

Instead, the pastor preached about grace:

“God can use you right where you are. He’s not waiting for you to clean yourself up first.”

That truth hit Jason like a freight train. And before he could slip out, familiar faces began to surround him—people from his old youth group, his Sunday school teacher, volunteers who once prayed for him. They didn’t meet him with judgment. They met him with hugs.

Something inside him broke—and healed at the same time. His heart, as John Wesley once said, was “strangely warmed.”

From Pews to Purpose

Jason started attending regularly, joined a small group, and began volunteering again. His old self fought hard, but grace fought harder.

One day, Mrs. Betty (yes, the Mrs. Betty) called him up with an idea that made him laugh out loud.

“Jason, I think you’d make a great small group leader.”

He thought she was crazy. But she was serious. And before long, Sunday nights went from parties and hangovers to pizza and middle school chaos.

Those boys—those wild, curious, funny kids—ended up teaching Jason more about Jesus than any sermon ever had. They didn’t care about his past. They just wanted someone real.

“As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God’s varied grace.” – 1 Peter 4:10

A New Calling

After a year of serving, another door opened—this time for a full-time student ministry job. It didn’t make sense. Jason still didn’t feel “qualified.” But he said yes.

And through that yes, God redeemed what Jason thought was lost forever.

Mission trips. Mentorship. Real relationships. Redemption.

He learned that grace isn’t a reward for the clean—it’s a gift for the broken.
And that God can use even the messiest chapters for His glory.

“For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God.” – Ephesians 2:8

Jason’s story isn’t about perfection. It’s about persistence—about a God who never stopped pursuing him, even when he was running the other way.

What This Teaches Us

• God can rebuild even what shame has destroyed.

• Your past disqualifies you from nothing—grace rewrites the story.

• True ministry doesn’t come from perfection, but from compassion.

• Sometimes, the most powerful sermons come from scars, not pulpits.
  

  “Better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere.” – Psalm 84:10

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Call to Repentance:
If you’ve been trying to earn your way into heaven, it’s time to stop striving and start surrendering. Today can be the day everything changes. The Bible says in 2 Corinthians 6:2, “Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.” Don’t wait for a better moment. Turn from your sin, believe in the finished work of Jesus Christ on the cross, and receive the gift of eternal life. He is calling—respond to Him today.

Call to Action:
If this message spoke to your heart, don’t keep it to yourself. Share it with someone you love—and make sure to subscribe so you never miss more biblical truth, encouragement, and hope. Let’s walk this journey of faith together.

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So… let me start with something you already know:
Forgiving real betrayal feels impossible.

And, there are certain nights you wish your memory would misplace.

Mine hasn’t.

The night of the wreck still sits with me — like a cold breath that never really leaves your lungs. It wasn’t supposed to be an important night. I wasn’t driving or doing anything wild or reckless.

I was just… living the same Friday I’d lived a hundred times before.

Work.
Rain.
Beer.
Cards.
Cigarettes.
Laughing with my brother.
Kali coming over. (My beautiful and INCREDIBLE wife)
Life moving along like it always had.

If you had told me that night would change everything — I mean everything — I probably would’ve laughed, cracked open another beer, and dealt the next card.

That’s the thing about normal nights.
They don’t warn you when they’re about to flip your whole life upside down.

Why Forgiveness Feels So Hard

Let’s be honest — pretending forgiveness is easy doesn’t help anybody. When someone betrays you, something inside shifts:

• Trust cracks

• Security shakes

• Your memory becomes a replay button you can’t turn off

• Your heart goes into “never again” mode

And while everyone else keeps living their lives, you’re stuck in a loop, trying to figure out why the pain still feels fresh months or even years later.

It’s strange — betrayal echoes….and it follows you.

C.S. Lewis once said:

“To be a Christian means to forgive the inexcusable, because God has forgiven the inexcusable in you.”

And that hits different when you’re the one who was hurt.

People say, “Just give it to God,” but they never explain what that actually looks like when your chest still tightens at the thought of them.

I’ve been there. Here’s my story.

(U of L Hospital, circa January 2020)

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Before the Wreck — The Life I Thought I Controlled

Back then I worked for a beer distributor — long days, tight docks, cold freezers, and muscles that always felt one wrong lift away from quitting. Hard work has a way of making you feel like you’ve earned whatever you do afterward.

For me, that meant drinking. It wasn’t just socially or occasionally either….but routinely — three to five beers every night, and more on weekends.

I wasn't necessarily trying to party….just trying to numb myself.

Funny how “normal habits” can quietly turn into chains.

And I didn’t question it.

Until the night God put a giant, immovable tree right in front of my life.

The Calm Before Everything Unraveled

When I got home that night, everything felt familiar in the best way:

• My brother next door

• My dog Mello losing his mind with excitement

• Kali pulling in, soft smile and steady presence

• Cards on the table

• “Africa” by Toto playing because my brother insisted

• Beer cracking open like a signal that the weekend had officially begun

It was warm. Cozy. Comfortable. Familiar.

Or at least it felt that way.

My friend showed up later with a bottle of whiskey — cheap, strong, and loud enough to drown out whatever quiet warnings God was trying to whisper through the rain.

We drank, laugh, played cards, and crossed that invisible line where the room tilts but everyone swears they’re fine.

And somewhere in that thick, smoky haze, he said the sentence that still makes my stomach drop:

“We’re out of cigarettes.”

It should’ve ended there.
A missing pack of smokes shouldn’t change anyone’s life.

But alcohol doesn’t care about logic. Just impulse. And, I followed that impulse. Tragic, but true.

The Ten Steps I Wish I’d Never Taken

“Let’s go to the gas station,” he said.
“Real quick.”

I should’ve said no.
I should’ve told Kali we were leaving…maybe she would have stopped us.
But drunk logic isn’t logic.
It’s momentum.

So I stepped outside.
Cold rain drifting down.
Porch light buzzing.
That strange pressure in the air — almost like something was tugging at me, trying to get my attention.

Ten steps. That’s all it took.

My gut instinct kept telling me to turn around. Go back. This is trouble brewing. Did I listen? Nope, sure didn’t.

The Curve That Split My Life in Half

He backed out quick — too quick — and the second we hit the road, I knew something was wrong.

He was more drunk that I realized and we were going to fast.

Too fast for a dark, wet Kentucky backroad.
The fast curve everyone in town knows better than to disrespect.

I mumbled, “Slow down…”
But it came out weak and blurry — like a thought trying to escape my mouth after it was already too late.

Then it happened.

He swung too wide.
The tires slid.
The headlights whipped across the trees.

And then —
Impact.

Fifty miles an hour into a tree.

(aftermath of the wreckage pictured below, circa 2020.)

Metal crumpling.
Glass exploding.
My hip twisting so sharply it felt like part of me detached from the rest.

The world didn’t go black.
It went silent.

Silent enough to feel the fear settle into my teeth.

When the sound finally came back, I was laying on the ground. My friend (or so I thought at the time) hovered over me.

And something inside him snapped.

“I gotta go!” he yelled.
“I gotta go!”

I tried to speak.
Tried to tell him not to leave….that I broke something.
But my voice was fragile and thin.

He backed away.
Looked over his shoulder.

Looked back down at me and said, “Bye Mark.”

He left me. Just like that.

A Cold Night’s Silence - Alone In The Wreckage

…what… what just happened?

Did he just run off?
No… no, he wouldn’t do that.
He’s my buddy.
He’s… he’s not gone.
He’s coming back.
He has to be coming back.

Okay wait—did that really happen?

He looked at me.
He saw I couldn’t move.
He heard me struggling for breath.
And he—
No… no way.
He’s going to get help.
That’s what he’s doing.
Right?
Right?

…did he actually say “Bye, Mark”?

No.
That can’t be what he said.
Nobody says that.
Not in a moment like this.
Not when—
No…
no…
please tell me he didn’t say that.

Why would he say that?

I can’t hear him anymore.

He’s gone.

Oh God…
he really left me.

I’m all alone.

I’ve always been alone.
Why does it always end like this?
Nobody cares about you, Mark…
you see that now?
You were stupid to think—

No.
Stop.
Stop thinking like that.
Stay awake.

Okay… okay… let’s figure this out.
My leg—
my hip—
my back—
something’s broken.
Feels like everything’s broken.

Let’s try…
let’s try to crawl.
Just… just roll over.
Come on.

AGHH—nope.

Nope.
That’s not happening.
That—
that hurts too bad.
I can’t move.
I really can’t move.

Do I still have feeling in my legs?

I’m helpless.

Oh God…
I’m helpless.

“Hellllllpppppp!”
Try again.
Come on. Try again.

“Heeeeelllllpppppp!”

Someone…
anyone…

Silence.

Just rain.
Just pain.
Just… me.

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

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I’m sorry, God.
I’m so sorry.

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Am I still alive?

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I don’t know how long I lay there.
Rain hit my face.
Blood dripped somewhere I couldn’t see.
My leg wouldn’t move.
My breath came out in painful, short bursts.
Everything felt far away except the fear.

I tried yelling.
Once.
Twice.
A third time.

Nothing.

Just the sound of rain on metal…
and my own heartbeat pounding like it didn’t know if it wanted to keep going.

I cried. It wasn’t even a tough cry.

I cried like a child.

I knew I had done this to myself.
The drinking.
The choices - all of it.
All the nudges God gave me to stop. I didn’t listen. I just kept going. I didn’t think I needed God - until this moment.

And lying there in the cold grass, next to a twisted up smashed truck, I felt like the thief on the cross — the one who knew he deserved it.

I didn’t pray for rescue or for healing or for God to rescue me.

All I could manage was:

“God… I’m… sorry.”

Three words.
Barely a whisper.
But they came from the deepest place I’d ever spoken from.

And God heard my prayer. What a wonderful and gracious God He is.

Truth be told, had I died that night….I wouldn’t have ended up in Heaven.

So not only did God save me from the wreckage, He saved me from eternal damnation.

Headlights, Hope, and a Stranger God Sent

Five minutes later — maybe less, maybe more — a pair of headlights turned onto the road.

I had just enough strength to lift my hand.

Just enough.

The driver saw me.
Swerved onto the shoulder.
Jumped out, ran toward me without a second thought.

“Hey! Don’t move! I’m calling 911!”

He knelt down beside me.
Put his hand on my shoulder.
Stayed with me in the cold, the rain, the pain, the fear — until help came.

He didn’t treat me like garbage.
Didn’t judge me.

He just stayed.

A stranger in a world full of people who walk away.

I thanked God for that man.
And I still do.

Because sometimes God saves you with miracles…
and sometimes He saves you with a man in a car who refuses to pretend he didn’t see you.

The Hardest Part: Forgiving the Friend Who Left

Recovery wasn’t simple. My hip ached for months, and every step reminded me something had changed. It just felt different….but my body eventually caught up. My heart? That took a lot longer.

The real wound wasn’t the metal or the bruises.
It was the silence.
The empty space where a friend should’ve been.

Left there — like my life didn’t matter. No shout for help or “hold on, I’ve got you.” Not even a glance back to see if I was still breathing.

That kind of hurt settles deep.

But God has a way of stepping into places we think are too broken. He started reshaping me from the inside out — slowly, quietly, in a way that didn’t feel forced.

Forgiving my friend wasn’t something he earned. It was something God asked of me because staying angry would’ve trapped me in that ditch long after the bruises faded.

It turns out forgiveness wasn’t about him at all.
It was about freedom.

And while doctors helped me stand again, God was the One teaching me how to walk — not just with my legs, but with my spirit.

Surrender — The Thing I Never Knew I Needed

Before the wreck, I lived like most men do:

• controlled what I could

• avoided what I didn’t want to face

• drowned what hurt

• hid behind work

• numbed myself with routine

I thought control was safety.

But lying in that ditch showed me the truth:

I was never in control of anything.

And in losing control, I found the one thing I had been missing:

Surrender.

And I’m not talking about the dramatic or alter-calling kind.

The kind where you finally admit:

“I can’t run my life.
And I never could.”

But from this experience came peace.
Real peace —
the kind I tried to drink my way into for years.

Joy came next.
Then contentment.
Then a quiet, steady faith that didn’t need big moments to survive.

Just a second chance I never saw coming.

Why I Tell This Story

Well, it’s not because I’m proud of it.
I share it because somebody reading this might be living their own quiet disaster.

Trying to numb the hurt.
Running from God.
Reaching for anything that feels safe for a minute.
Taking tiny steps that somehow turn into a cliff.
Feeling unseen, worn down, guilty, or like you’ve drifted too far.

Maybe even feeling like that thief on the cross — the one who knew he had nothing left to offer but honesty.

If that’s you, listen for a second:

God isn’t waiting for perfect words.
He hears the shaky ones.
The whispered ones.
The “Lord… I’m sorry” that barely makes it out.

He met me in that place one cold January night.

And He’ll meet you right where you are too.

Dear Reader, If You Made It This Far….

I want to tell you something gently:
Holding on to what they did is exhausting, isn’t it?

You’ve carried the memory, the heaviness, the sting… maybe longer than anyone knows. And the person who hurt you? They probably walked away without ever realizing the weight they left on your shoulders.

Here’s the hope I want you to hear:

Forgiveness isn’t saying what happened was okay.
It’s saying it no longer gets to control you.

Someone literally left me for dead and God made it possible to forgive them.

“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” - Philippians 4:13

Letting go doesn’t mean you forget.
It means you stop reliving the wound every time their name crosses your mind.

Forgiveness is freedom.
Not for them—for you.

God sees every piece of the story—every tear, every moment you swallowed the pain, every night you replayed the memory wishing things had gone differently. And He isn’t asking you to pretend it didn’t hurt. He’s inviting you to hand Him what’s been eating at your peace.

You are not weak for wanting to forgive.

And here’s the quiet truth:
God can help you forgive even when your heart isn’t sure it’s ready.

You don’t have to feel it to begin it.
You just have to trust Him with the part that still shakes.

Letting go isn’t losing—it’s the first time you can breathe again.

GIve As You Feel Led

Christian Hotline & Prayer Support

If you’re struggling or need someone to pray with you, please reach out.

National Suicide & Crisis Lifeline: Dial 988
Focus on the Family Prayer Line: 1-877-771-4357
The 700 Club Prayer Line: 1-800-700-7000
Billy Graham Evangelistic Association: 1-888-388-2683
Chatnow (24/7 Christian Chat & Prayer):

https://chatnow.org

You are not alone. Someone is ready to listen and pray with you right now.

Call to Repentance

If you’ve been trying to earn your way into heaven, it’s time to stop striving and start surrendering. Today can be the day everything changes. The Bible says in 2 Corinthians 6:2, “Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.” Don’t wait for a better moment. Turn from your sin, believe in the finished work of Jesus Christ on the cross, and receive the gift of eternal life. He is calling—respond to Him today.

Call to Action

If this message spoke to your heart, don’t keep it to yourself. Share it with someone you love—and make sure to subscribe so you never miss more biblical truth, encouragement, and hope. Let’s walk this journey of faith together.

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Welcome friend,

I’m Mark, and this space is for the wanderers, the worn out, and the ones still wrestling with God at 2 a.m. I don’t have all the answers, but I know the One who does—and I’m learning to trust Him more.

If this message meets you where you are, stick around. Subscribe, share, or simply pray with me as we walk this narrow road together.

And, if you feel led to support my ministry, be sure to buy the next coffee! God Bless!

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AJ’s story isn’t some neat, polished redemption story you’d see in a movie. It’s raw and messy. But it’s real — and it’s proof that God’s grace reaches even into the darkest corners of a prison cell.

He grew up in a loving home, but life started feeling heavier as the years went on. Born without his right hand, AJ always felt like the world saw him through a cracked lens. That sense of being “different” grew into isolation, then into shame. By middle school, depression had moved in like an uninvited guest that wouldn’t leave.

By high school, AJ was running from that pain any way he could — alcohol, weed, parties — anything that made him feel accepted for a moment.

Running Toward the Wrong Kind of Peace

The more he searched for peace, the further he got from it. He started chasing after philosophies that promised enlightenment and balance: chakra alignment, the law of attraction, universal oneness, and entanglement. They sounded deep and spiritual — but they were empty. They offered control but delivered confusion.

AJ says now that he wasn’t just dabbling in false peace — he was trying to fill a God-shaped hole with human-made answers. It didn’t work.

And his choices kept spiraling. He made decisions that broke him — like convincing his girlfriend to have an abortion. It’s something that still stings to this day. He thought he was in control, but he was just digging a deeper hole.

When he got expelled for drug use and reckless behavior, his world started caving in. But instead of turning around, he ran faster.

Falling Deeper

By his twenties, AJ was living for the next high. Weed turned into painkillers, and painkillers into heroin. He moved in with a friend who used daily, and soon, AJ was doing the same.

When his son was born in 2014, he thought that would be his turning point. He loved that little boy with everything he had — but addiction had a tighter grip than he realized.

And it wasn’t just drugs. Lust and pornography wrapped around him like invisible chains. It wasn’t something he talked about, but it consumed him. The same way he chased drugs to escape pain, he chased lust to escape emptiness. Both were prisons, and both were slowly killing him.

He lied to his family, stole from the people who still cared about him, and burned every bridge he had. The guilt was unbearable, but the shame kept him stuck. And eventually, the law caught up.

By 2020, AJ found himself behind bars, facing four years in prison.

The Breaking Point

Prison wasn’t a wake-up call —not right away. The same cycle followed him inside. Drugs were still easy to find, and he fell right back in. He started using a synthetic drug called “deuce,” a chemical mix that messed with his mind in terrifying ways. Every high brought panic and darkness.

Then one day, he hit a wall. He’d had enough. During a routine head count, he walked up to a correctional officer and said, “I’m high. I need help.”

That moment changed everything.

He was sent to the SHU, the Special Housing Unit. It was cold, quiet, and lonely. But God meets people in the quiet places.

In that tiny cell, AJ found a book called War Room by Chris Fabry. It wasn’t just a story — it was a mirror. It showed him what a life surrendered to God could look like. One night, he hit his knees on that concrete floor and cried out, “God, I don’t want to live like this anymore!”

He felt something shift — a warmth, a peace, a presence. The same God he’d ignored for years was listening.

Chains Begin to Fall

After that prayer, things started changing in ways AJ couldn’t explain. His disciplinary charges were suddenly wiped clean because of a “technical error.” The man he owed drug money to was transferred to another facility. The weight he’d been carrying — physically, emotionally, spiritually — started lifting.

Then came another miracle: he was accepted into the Residential Drug Abuse Program (RDAP), one of the hardest programs to get into. It gave him structure, focus, and a chance to rebuild.

AJ threw himself into Scripture, prayer, and worship. He started going to every chapel service he could find — Protestant, Catholic, Messianic — anywhere Jesus was being preached.

Slowly but surely, God was breaking every chain — not just addiction, but lust, shame, and guilt.

Walking in Freedom

When AJ got out, he didn’t run back to his old ways. He ran to Hope City Church.

On his first Sunday there, the pastor gave an altar call about freedom. AJ walked forward and told him his story. The pastor looked him in the eyes and said, “This altar call was specifically for you.”

It was confirmation — God had been directing his steps the entire time.

Today, AJ is living free. He’s a father, a believer, and a walking testimony of what grace looks like. He’s not perfect, but he’s new.

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Call to Repentance

If you’ve been trying to earn your way into heaven, it’s time to stop striving and start surrendering. Today can be the day everything changes. The Bible says in 2 Corinthians 6:2, “Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.” Don’t wait for a better moment. Turn from your sin, believe in the finished work of Jesus Christ on the cross, and receive the gift of eternal life. He is calling—respond to Him today.

Call to Action

If this message spoke to your heart, don’t keep it to yourself. Share it with someone you love—and make sure to subscribe so you never miss more biblical truth, encouragement, and hope. Let’s walk this journey of faith together.

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Share

I’m Mark, and this space is for the wanderers, the worn out, and the ones still wrestling with God at 2 a.m. I don’t have all the answers, but I know the One who does—and I’m learning to trust Him more.

If this message meets you where you are, stick around. Subscribe, share, or simply pray with me as we walk this narrow road together.

And, if you feel led to support my ministry, be sure to buy the next coffee! God Bless!

Support Our Ministry!

“So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.” – John 8:36

Growing Up Halfway

grew up knowing God mattered, but God was never at the center. His parents split, his mother moved away, and his dad worked so much that he was hardly around. By 15, he was already mocking faith. He even tore pages out of a Bible to roll joints.

Then one night, he had a vision so real he could still feel it years later—he fell straight into hell. The screams, the fire, the judgment—it was terrifying. In desperation, he cried out to Jesus, and Jesus pulled him out.

But even after that, he lived halfway for nearly two decades.

Revelation 3:15–16: “I know your works: you are neither cold nor hot. Would that you were either cold or hot! So, because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth.”

The Mask of Sin

Halfway meant lying to himself and everyone else. He lied about addiction, money, and where he was. Cocaine, strip clubs, porn—he numbed himself and thought that as long as he kept up appearances, he was fine. But inside, he was dying.

He didn’t just flirt with sin—he married it. And every day the enemy whispered: “You’ll never change. You’ll always come back to me.” For years, he believed that lie.

The Cracks Begin to Show

He tried to lead in his own strength—jobs, teams, even his family—but it always ended in burnout, cruelty, or shame. Eventually, his marriage collapsed. They realized they weren’t the same people outside of getting high, so they split.

Yet even in that wreckage, God was planting seeds.

2 Corinthians 12:9: “But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.”

Turning Points and Tragedy

He eventually got clean and met Deidre, who guided him toward a better path. But he still wasn’t chasing God. It took a few more years, the death of his father, and crushing struggles before he realized how much he needed Jesus.

Together, he and Deidre faced one of the darkest seasons—losing a child, and nearly losing her too. That pain broke them, but it also drove them closer to Christ. Later, God blessed them with another child, and that became a turning point. From then on, they steadied themselves in His Word and in His church.

“You Can Lead”

One Sunday after church, a scrap of paper literally landed at his feet. Three words were scribbled on it: “You can lead.” That was God’s reminder that leadership wasn’t about power—it was about surrender.

Fatherhood Changes Everything

Fatherhood sealed the change. Doctors had said it wasn’t likely, but God had other plans. Becoming a dad humbled him. He didn’t want his kids to wonder about his faith the way he had always wondered about his father’s.

He realized his greatest ministry might not be behind a microphone or a pulpit—but in holding a flashlight while his kids walked down the path God had for them.

Proverbs 22:6: “Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it.”

No Longer Halfway

Today, he isn’t perfect and he isn’t finished, but he’s no longer halfway. Halfway Wasn’t Enough became more than the title of his book—it became the story of his life. Out of it was born From Halfway—a testimony and movement dedicated to devotionals, discipleship, and even children’s books that fund charity.

Its mission is simple: to ignite souls, guard the flame of faith, and forge warriors for Christ.

What This Teaches Us

You can’t live halfway with God. Compromise doesn’t free you—it chains you. Sin whispers, but Christ shouts louder. The enemy will say, “you’ll never change,” but the cross proves otherwise. Jesus rescues, restores, and repurposes even the most broken stories into testimonies that point back to Him.

Call to Repentance:
If you’ve been trying to earn your way into heaven, it’s time to stop striving and start surrendering. Today can be the day everything changes. The Bible says in 2 Corinthians 6:2, “Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.” Don’t wait for a better moment. Turn from your sin, believe in the finished work of Jesus Christ on the cross, and receive the gift of eternal life. He is calling—respond to Him today.

Call to Action:
If this message spoke to your heart, don’t keep it to yourself. Share it with someone you love—and make sure to subscribe so you never miss more biblical truth, encouragement, and hope. Let’s walk this journey of faith together.

Leave a comment

Share

I’m Mark, and this space is for the wanderers, the worn out, and the ones still wrestling with God at 2 a.m. I don’t have all the answers, but I know the One who does—and I’m learning to trust Him more.

If this message meets you where you are, stick around. Subscribe, share, or simply pray with me as we walk this narrow road together.

And, if you feel led to support my ministry, be sure to buy the next coffee! God Bless!

Buy Me a Coffee

“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.”
— Psalm 34:18

A Life Built on Appearances

She was born into a Christian family. Both parents were devoted, and her mother even taught Sunday school. By the time she was 17 or 18, she “accepted” Jesus as her Savior. From then on, she learned more about God—but only in her head. For the next seven years, she lived puffed up by her little knowledge, thinking she was fine, but never truly seeking God for herself.

Instead, she fell into gossip, an unhealthy situationship, judgmental thinking, and the influence of worldly friends. She had built a fortress of lies around her heart, hiding behind the mask of self-righteousness. Deep down she knew her life was shallow, but she didn’t know how to escape—or if she even wanted to.

The Shaking

In 2023, her parents arranged her marriage to a man in India—someone she barely knew. This shattered the high tower of control she had built. For the first time, her life wasn’t going the way she wanted. In despair, she cried out to God. But when she felt Him leading her toward the marriage, she felt betrayed, as though God was against her.

Her bitterness grew. Depression sank in. Yet her mother’s reminder rang in her ears: “God promised He will never leave you nor forsake you. Where is your faith?”

Holding on to that promise, she agreed to the marriage. Shortly after, she moved to the United States.

The Wilderness

In America, everything was new and foreign. She had no friends, no familiar places, and carried a heavy burden of bitterness in her heart. Alone, she finally started spending time with God. His Word began to speak to her in ways she had never experienced before.

One verse pierced her heart like lightning:

“You search the Scriptures, for in them you think you have eternal life; and these are they which testify of Me. But you are not willing to come to Me that you may have life.”
— John 5:39–40

She realized she had been more concerned with knowing about God than actually knowing Him. The truth of her condition was exposed, and she broke down, crying out for forgiveness.

A Heart Rewired

Slowly but surely, God began healing her. He revealed her idols, her hidden sins, her bitterness. He led her to repentance. He helped her forgive others. Piece by piece, He tore down the false life she had built and rewired her from the inside out.

She says now with joy: “He saved me from me.”

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.”
— 2 Corinthians 5:17

Living Restored

Two years later, she looks back and thanks God for every difficult moment. She knows if she tried to erase the hardest, loneliest part of her life, she would also erase God’s saving work in her heart.

Today, His Word continues to draw her closer. She trusts Him with her life, finally free from the need to control everything.

And she declares with confidence: “Giving away the control over my life to Lord Jesus was the best thing I’ve ever done.”

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths.”
— Proverbs 3:5–6

What This Teaches Us

Her story shows us that head knowledge about God can never replace truly knowing Him. Sometimes, God allows our world to fall apart—not to destroy us, but to rebuild us on the foundation of Christ. It reminds us that surrender is not weakness but the doorway to freedom.

Like her, we are called to lay down control and trust Jesus with every part of our lives. Because when we finally stop fighting Him, we find out He has been for us all along.

“So Jesus said to the Jews who had believed him, ‘If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.’”
— John 8:31–32

Call to Repentance:
If you’ve been trying to earn your way into heaven, it’s time to stop striving and start surrendering. Today can be the day everything changes. The Bible says in 2 Corinthians 6:2, “Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.” Don’t wait for a better moment. Turn from your sin, believe in the finished work of Jesus Christ on the cross, and receive the gift of eternal life. He is calling—respond to Him today.

Call to Action:
If this message spoke to your heart, don’t keep it to yourself. Share it with someone you love—and make sure to subscribe so you never miss more biblical truth, encouragement, and hope. Let’s walk this journey of faith together.

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She didn’t grow up with a perfect faith, but she did grow up with seeds planted—seeds of truth, of grace, of who God is. Raised in California in a God-fearing home but missing discipleship, her relationship with the Lord was more ritual than reality. When she went off to college on a softball scholarship, life hit hard. Partying, pain, and emotional rejection led her deeper into the world and away from God.

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By 2019, the weight of grief became unbearable. Two miscarriages, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, and emotional brokenness nearly crushed her. Even the birth of her son, while a moment of purpose, couldn't take away the darkness. She blamed God, and like many of us, she didn’t understand that sometimes the breaking is part of the making.

But God never gave up on her.

The Turnaround

In 2023, something shifted. She felt led—almost nudged—to read her Bible. It wasn’t easy. Leviticus was a struggle. But then she stumbled across Jesus: A Theography at the library, and it wrecked her—in the best way. She became enamored with Jesus. As she read the Gospels, she wasn’t just reading about Him—she was encountering Him.

And the fire started.

One flight home in October 2023 sealed the deal. A terrifying moment in the air led her to cry out, not in fear, but in faith: “No. This is not how my story ends.” That moment became a turning point. She stopped running. She gave God her “yes.”

A Life of Consecration

Since then, she’s given up secular music, smoking, drinking, unhealthy relationships, ideologies, and even her car. One thing after another, she laid it all down—and not because it was easy. Because obedience mattered more.

Her words? “He’s been consecrating me for something bigger than I can even imagine.”

But obedience wasn’t enough. She had to learn the rhythm of surrender, obedience, and faithfulness. That became her heartbeat.

Surrender meant letting go of everything she thought she wanted.

Obedience meant walking in the dark, trusting the hand of God even when she couldn’t see the way.

Faithfulness meant showing up daily—when she was tired, confused, or felt nothing at all.

And every day she said “yes” again.

Walking in Boldness

Now, she walks in the light. She walks in divine purpose. And she’s not afraid anymore. She’s not perfect, but she’s positioned. She’s surrendered, obedient, and faithful. And that’s why she speaks boldly—because her confidence isn’t in herself, but in the One who called her.

Want to learn more about Adrena and her ministry? Check her out here!:

https://substack.com/@adrenaanderson?utm_source=share&utm_medium=android&r=57gi5m

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She encourages others to stop playing games with God and answer the knock at the door. You don’t have to be perfect. You just need to say “yes.”

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