Faith is Unnatural

 “God’s peace exceeds what the human mind can comprehend." ~ Philippians 4:7

They were nearly home from church. Jana’s preschool son and infant daughter sat securely in the back seat. The sun’s golden rays cast a warm glow on the passing countryside. It was a perfect day to put the world on pause - or so it seemed.

When she felt her iPhone vibrate, Jana instinctively reached for it. In that split-second distraction, she failed to notice the car ahead slowing down. Tires screeched, glass shattered, and airbags exploded when her car struck theirs in a thunderous collision.

Miraculously, the children were frightened but unharmed.

As a cautionary measure, paramedics transported Jana to the ER. They examined her for signs of internal bleeding, fractures, or anything unusual. Numerous scans revealed a kidney stone… and something else.

Weeks later, an Ultrasound, MRI, and subsequent biopsy confirmed Stage 2 breast cancer. The mass was close to her chest wall, masked by bone structures and muscle tissue. It'd gone undetected for years despite annual mammograms. The cell's advanced maturity required an aggressive treatment regimen.

Overwhelming shock, fear, confusion, and anxiety followed, as well as feelings of disbelief and worry about her family’s well-being. But a conclusive diagnosis discovered under such bizarre conditions due to a car wreck seemed… miraculous, which also brought tears of joy and gratitude.

The car accident had been a metaphor for her connection with God. “My faith had always been there, although barely enough to hold onto at times. Literally the size of a mustard seed, it helped me stay focused on that glimmer of hope as I recovered.”

“I'm grateful for the numerous ways God stretched and bolstered my faith in the weeks, months, and years that followed,” she confided. “I learned about trusting God and His sovereignty during that season, and found refuge in the book of Job.”

Call it belief, trust, or faith, none of it comes naturally, but as a gift of grace, made possible through Christ. It transforms our fallen nature, enabling us to trust and depend on God. “His comforting presence never left me. I leaned into Him during the accident, treatment, and recovery.”

Faith is more than intellectual acceptance of God’s existence. It’s far more than committing to a faith community, practicing a set of religious habits, and developing biblical literacy. Faith is something that shatters you, and then radically remakes you.

Faith requires a willingness to confess, without excuse or blame shifting, sins you once denied or hid. Faith is abandoning your own wisdom and fortifying your heart with God’s insight. It means giving up on your delusional control and resting in God’s authority.

While almost all civilizations throughout history believed in and worshiped some kind of God, faith is not a natural instinct. It must be fought for, cultivated, honed, practiced, tested, and honored.

Father God, Jesus’ Disciples were told that even if their faith was only the size of a mustard seed, they could crumble mountains. Help us grow and increase our faith in You alone and make us mountain-movers. Amen

Fighting Addiction

“Keep on loving one another as brothers and sisters.” ~ Hebrews 13:1

WARNING: This may be painful to read. But, if you know someone who’s dealing with their child’s addiction, this letter might help. When we shift our behavior as parents, it changes our kids’ behavior - even when they’re 40-year-old adults.

Dear Son:

I’m writing again to ensure there’s no confusion about what I’m about to say.

I’ve never wavered in my love for you, or in my willingness to do whatever for your health and safety. Your addiction is painful for me to believe and admit. I can no longer look the other way, hoping things will improve for you as long as you continue drinking.

Life’s messy, especially when you’re struggling with addiction. When you’re willing to acknowledge all you’ve lost and accept the truth of how alcohol has destroyed your life, I know you have the strength to reclaim your life. But you’ll need help. So, you have two options:

1.    Quit drinking and do whatever’s needed to take back control of your life; or

2.    Continue feeding your addiction until it eventually takes your life.

If you choose to quit drinking, I’ll support you with either of these choices:

Participation in a Residential Treatment Program where you’ll live for 90 days and find help and support from people who know the difficulties of alcoholism and are themselves struggling toward sobriety.

Continue living at the house your Mom and I bought for you so long as you stop drinking. This won’t be business as usual. You must agree to meet weekly with a skilled addiction counselor. She’ll recommend a doctor for a complete physical exam and who will care for your medical needs and conduct random alcohol tests.

You will attend AA meetings 2x a week with a sponsor of your choosing, and 2x a week on your own. We’ll monitor your attendance to all of the above.

If you refuse to stop drinking, you can remain in your home doing whatever you do there: smoke, drink, and talk to yourself. It is only a matter of time before you’ll be hospitalized (again) or in jail. You will no longer be welcome in our home.

I’ll never give up on you or stop loving you, but at our age, your Mom and I can no longer tolerate the stress of living with constant fear and worry. It’s not our illness, but its effects are shared. We hide what we’re feeling. We hide the truth from those around us. We both suffer the shame and carry the blame.

We pray you’ll take this opportunity to seek help and begin the journey toward health and sobriety. When that day comes, we’ll celebrate together! And until that day, we pray that somehow you know that we both love you more than you could possibly understand.

Love, Dad

Father God, thank You for loving us perfectly despite our failures and those of our children. Remind us that addictions can be healed. Surround us with qualified and godly people to help us live with sobriety. Amen

An Obedient Heart

 “Teach me thy way, Lord, and lead me down the right path." ~ Psalm 27:11

When his country called him to battle in 1917, a personal war raged within 30-year-old Alvin York. He was torn between being a good Christian and a good American. That was his nation’s fight; the Germans weren’t his enemy.

He applied for status as a Conscientious Objector, hoping to avoid armed conflict. After numerous appeals failed, and in discussions with his pastor, York reported for basic training determined to pull his own weight, while still holding onto his core Christian values.

As combat training drew to a close, pressure to make his final decision became unavoidable. Alvin’s commander, a Christian himself, issued the conflicted Tennessean a home pass and urged him to study the Scriptures relating to war, self-defense, and obedience.

Back in Appalachia, deep in prayer and contemplation, he would pray, study, and evaluate the dilemma between his faith and patriotism. He consulted with religious leaders who represented both sides of the issue to keep the query balanced. Alvin studied the Bible and biographies of men who faced similar crossroads. The man spent hours meditating in solitude, considering what he’d studied and what others had shared with him.

The Lord answered him on those Smokey Mountains and relieved his burden. He concluded that he would not have to disobey God to honor his country and confidently stepped onto the battlefields of northeastern France.

There in 1918, the dawn’s silence was shattered by sickening death as German machine guns on a distant ridge erupted with devastating accuracy. His best friend was killed in the assault.

Pinned down with 85% of his comrades dead or wounded, Corporal York summoned his expert hunting skills to muzzle the Nazi guns.

Racing, crawling, and sneaking from bush to rock for cover, Alvin crawled up the hill from where the fire originated. He single-handedly silenced 35 machine guns and convinced 132 German soldiers to surrender.

For his courage, Seargent York received the Medal of Honor. But what he valued most was knowing that countless men survived because he’d stopped the killing.

God delivered York from his internal battle so he could lead others to victory. He’d trusted God to carry him beyond his doubts and give him the special talents necessary to further His Kingdom. But this story’s lesson focuses more on making tough decisions.

Rather than asking “God, what should I do?” York made his own decision based on faith, advice, prayer, and study. Only then did he listen for God’s confirmation or rejection.

Ultimately, we must take responsibility for making choices that settle our hearts. Spending time on His Word and praying can help us recognize God's voice and hear what He has for our hearts.

Father God, I look to no one else for wisdom and humbly ask for Your help in making important decisions in my life. Bless me with our guidance and wisdom so I make decisions that bring glory to Your name. Amen

God's Influencer

 “Christ enlisted special servants to do His earthly work and build the church." ~ Ephesians 4:11-12

By some accounts, Carlo Acutis was a normal teenager. He loved playing his PlayStation, enjoyed pizza, talked a lot, and was a bit of a class clown. An animal lover, he enjoyed many pets and frequently brought home stray animals.

Acutis was born to wealthy Italian parents in London in 1991, but the family moved to northern Italy shortly after his birth. Studying at a Jesuit school, he embraced the motto: “Dio, non io.” (God, before me!). Carlos became a devout Catholic who received his First Communion at age 7. He attended mass every day and loved praying the rosary.

Even at an early age, the young boy had a knack for consoling others, whether helping friends whose parents were going through a divorce, peers bullied by other pupils, or girls being harassed. His soft approach to resolving conflicts provided warmth, understanding, and patience.

Villagers were especially impressed with Carlo’s love and concern for the poor - how he interacted with the homeless man who sat on the church’s steps or routinely brought containers filled with food out to random people living on the streets.

As he grew into his teens, he became fascinated with the Internet. Showing wisdom beyond his years, the boy taught himself to program and built websites with a spiritual focus. His most creative project was a global catalog of Eucharistic miracles and the documented appearances of the Virgin Mary throughout history.

Tragically, he developed acute promyelocytic leukemia in 2006 and died less than two weeks later at the age of 15. Some of the city's poorest residents who Acutis had helped, came to pay their respects at his funeral. His body lies in an open tomb in Assisi, wearing blue jeans and sneakers.

The call for Acutis to be canonized (proclaimed a Saint), began not long after his death.

First, Acutis was beatified in October 2020, after the Vatican officially recognized his intercession from Heaven in 2013 to save the life of a Brazilian child who suffered from a deadly pancreatic condition. The Vatican said the 3-year-old was completely healed after praying to Acutis and coming into contact with a relic of his clothing.

Pope Francis recognized a second posthumous miracle attributed to Carlo’s intervention in 2024. It involved the healing of a 21-year-old Costa Rican girl who wasn’t likely to survive a serious head injury from a bicycle accident in 2022. The girl was discharged from the ICU 10 days after her mother’s pilgrimage to Carlo’s tomb.

Pope Francis’ recognition of the second miracle made it possible for the deceased 15-year-old Italian web designer, popularly dubbed “the Patron Saint of the Internet,” to become the Catholic Church's first millennial generation saint this year during the church's jubilee year.

Heavenly Father, thank You for Carlo’s short life, a model for young people, and a message of love for all. Give us the honor of calling him “Saint,” for his work with his peers and the poor, whom he loved and helped. Amen

Sand Dollar Mysteries

 “[In Heaven] there will be no more death, sorrow, crying, or pain." ~ Revelation 1:4

Quinn, his wife, and a gifted artist left this world to join the Lord after her debilitating fight against brain cancer. Since her death five years ago, Bradyn still struggles with her loss.

He’s well aware of the logic - Quinn is with God, perfect once again and free of all pain, suffering, and tears. But the grief from missing her remains overpowering.

As he walked along the beach at daybreak, Braydyn prayed for any sign that might connect him with his soulmate again. A butterfly, cardinal, or even a rainbow - anything for some reassurance that all would be ok.

At low tide, the beach was littered with tiny pieces of broken seashells. Brayden turned toward a rising sun that warmed a gentle passion in his heart. “Every day the sun comes up,” he thought, “brings new hope. We can always count on God’s promises.”

He turned to continue his walk. Not ten paces ahead, he gently picked it up, lightly brushed off the sand, and felt tears tumble from his cheeks. Some may read this with skepticism, merely a coincidence. But for Braydyn, it was a prayer answered.

Their delicate, intricately patterned shells are considered a prized treasure at the beach. Scientists believe that about 150 different species exist in coastal waters today. These little ocean creatures carry a message about the world’s history and God’s purpose in creating them.

Sand dollars are akin to sea urchins. When they wash up on the beach and are bleached by the sun, they look like a large coin, hence the nickname.

With their intricate patterns and delicate shapes, they’ve captured our imaginations for centuries. Archeologists found sea fossils belonging to the same genus in Mount Everest’s limestone which help validate the biblical accounts of the global Flood recorded in Genesis 6-9.

It’s said that Jesus left the sand dollar as a symbol to help teach the Christian faith.

On one side, there’s an outline of a poinsettia, the Christmas flower symbolizing Jesus’ birth. The flip side of the shell displays a star-like image, reflecting the Star of Bethlehem that guided those wise men to the newborn Christ Child.

Five surface holes are said to depict Jesus’ wounds. Spines on the surface portray the crown of thorns worn during his crucifixion. A silhouette of an Easter lily circling the star represents His resurrection.

If you carefully break open a sand dollar, five white, dove-shaped pieces emerge. These are said to symbolize peace and the joy that spread while Jesus roamed the earth.

Whether you’re drawn to their beauty, intrigued by their symbolism, or simply appreciate their unique shape and patterns, sand dollars continue to inspire us. Just ask Bradyn.

“This simple little symbol, Christ left for you and me, to help to spread His Message through all eternity. Now break its center open, and here you will release, five white doves waiting to spread goodwill and peace.” Amen (“Legend of the Sand Dollar,” Unknown)

He's Found Enough

“You were made from dust, and to dust you will return.”~ Genesis 3:19

Working as a grave digger isn’t a dead-end job, although technically, every workday is a graveyard shift. For Allen McCloskey (89), it has been his passion for over seventy years.

His unconventional career began in his late teens when a local grave digger at one of Galveston’s cemeteries asked him to cover for him so he could take his wife on vacation. After the man returned, he convinced Allen to keep on diggin’. For the next 5 years, Allen manually dug nearly 500 graves until he could afford a used backhoe.

Grave digger jobs are found not only on the margins of vocational choices but also at the bottom rung of the funeral profession. They often get strange looks and questions about their motivations. Maybe not a dream job, but for Allen it’s been a fulfilling one.

After the casket has been lowered, while tears flow, and people leave the burial site, McCloskey shovels dirt into the now-occupied hole. His role puts him inside the circle of the departed’s mourners. It’s a calling that requires tact, skill, and emotional sensitivity.

He's been carving out plots from the Indiana soil since 1952: 25,000 days on the job and thousands of graves. In 2021, he became the Guinness world record holder for the longest grave-digging career. Turns out that the man who lifts Galvestonians up is the same man who puts them down.

“I’ve buried plenty of classmates, friends, and family members, including my parents. It’s really sad when I have to bury babies.” But the toughest job of all was preparing a burial site for his beloved wife, Barbara. When asked how he got through it, he said: “Well, I figured she’d want me to do it.”

At a surprise party to celebrate his achievement, the town’s residents also honored him for the plethora of odd jobs he’s done and the ways he’s made life easier for the people of Galveston, all without accepting a single payment.

When asked why he refused to accept payment, McCloskey politely laughed. “Preparing a final resting place is reward enough!” So, he still digs graves.

Allen has figured out that there’s more to life and happiness than money. He’s okay with who he is and doesn’t need to change to be more worthy or loved. A close friend added: “He’s always placed a higher value on quality relationships, time with loved ones, and helping others.”

Honorable, hard-working, and humble. He's found ‘enough!'

The strange thing about finding enough? Sometimes, you end up with even more. “I never expected to spend my life in a cemetery," McCloskey noted dryly, “but I’ll retire someday - on the other end of the shovel.”

God our Father, at this sacred place and in Your Divine presence, we pray for all who are buried here. Now freed from the bonds of mortality, count them among the saints in heaven. Continue to enfold them in Your mercy, love, and peace. Amen

Rusty Companion

 “Wisdom comes from the blessing of a long life." ~ Job 12:12

As a much younger man, Matt drove his parent’s ‘66, a Ford Mustang affectionately named Annie. The vehicle of choice for many young drivers in the 60s came in a variety of colors, engines, and transmissions. But Matt loved the yellow, inline 6, 200 cu in, automatic he got to drive.

Today, it's not a rust-bucket. That would require structural integrity. It’s been devolving since the late 90s, except for the spiders and rodents gnawing on what little upholstery remains.

Before Annie’s mandatory retirement, she sputtered on acceleration and backfired before the engine shut off. It burned oil. Bald tires could no longer hold patches. Her AM radio tunes mostly static, and the retro cassette player skips every time he hits a minor bump.

An even coat of rust covers most of her body with only a few yellow spray cans having attempted to hide it. Annie’s been rotting long enough that the weeds underneath her have accepted the car as one of their own. Friends tease that they’ve spotted buzzards circling the old gal.

His friend’s Dad, a mechanic, kept the car going for years longer than it should have lasted. As soon as he fixed one problem, something else would break down. He grumbled each time he worked on her. Still, the junker was all he could afford at the time, so Matt kept praying that Annie would hang on for a few more miles.

Finally, one morning he fired her up, put Annie in gear, and the transmission ground pointlessly without engaging. The time had finally come for her peaceful death. He opened the door and sat for a few moments grieving the loss of a beloved companion.

Matt tilted back in a seat that felt like a warm hug, dreaming for Annie to launch him on one last thrill ride. The power he imagined coming through the steering wheel brought memories of a raging bull breaking away screaming and ripping for freedom.

Joyful memories unfolded like the pages of a beloved storybook. He starting to have the same feelings about his own body.

Matt felt like a young soul driving an aging clunker. His back hurts daily. His five senses, memory, and energy are no longer as keen as they used to be. Although doing his best to eat right, exercise, and get enough sleep to slow the decay, he gets a little older every passing day.

Then Matt resets his mood for sunnier days ahead. In the end, he knew our bodies aren’t who we are, but temples of the Holy Spirit stewarding the earthly tent the Lord has given us. We are Children of God put here to live, learn, and love. And when it finally breaks down for good, we’ll happily let it go and return Home again.

Father God, help us realize that aging brings greater joy for those who are in Christ. Guide us in fleeing the temptations of worldliness, choosing instead to do what honors and glorifies You. Amen

The Bright Side

 “Children’s kids are a grandparents’ pride and joy." ~ Proverbs 17:6

Kelly was an optimist. Life rarely disappoints her because the sun always comes up… eventually. When God decides you need a lesson, all you can do is hang on and hope you can smile or laugh about it later.

Three months ago, she and her husband Michael exchanged their NYC brownstone for a dream home on a wooded lot near Schenectady. With their daughter’s blessing, it happened to be adjacent to her family’s lot. They’d always been close; now they were neighbors.

They built a Craftsman-style house sporting natural materials, an open floor plan, and a charming front porch. Their two children surprised them by hosting an open house and inviting several old friends from the city. Their dream of living near five grandkids became real.

A few months later, their son and his family packed up and left for his new job in Texas, 1,600 miles away. He’d been jobless for nearly a year. While they were excited for them, the feelings of grief and sadness were overwhelming. Kelly deeply missed them all.

At least their daughter’s crew still lived next door. When they took their two youngsters to Florida on a Disney adventure, the neighborhood felt empty and so lonely.

When they returned, her daughter couldn’t wait to share her good news. She’d landed a marketing promotion – one offering an attractive raise and terrific perks… in Cleveland, about 400 miles west.

For a time, the two were stuck in a persistent grief state; their hearts broken by the crushing loss of living near grandkids. On the best days, it was still a dull ache. Other grandparenting groups only reminded them of all the stuff they couldn’t do with their grandkids so far away. 

Life’s like that! Plans and expectations can turn into heartbreaks and disappointments. 

But God always has a better idea. There was a bright side.

As parents, Kelly and Michael had fulfilled their child-rearing responsibilities. Now it was their children’s turn to step into life’s challenges with maturity, courage, and purpose. The relationship wasn’t what they’d envisioned. But being a long-distance grandparent didn’t mean they couldn’t still be intentional, spiritual mentors.

Since their ultimate goal was to make certain the kids were loved, encouraged, and felt a sense of belonging, all that could be done from a distance. Technology provided ample creative ways to connect via email, video chats, and photo sharing. Cards and gifts (even for no specific reason), were always an option.

And when the opportunities arose, they’d make their visits memorable, so the grandkids would always look forward to them. With a little extra effort, sharing God’s love with grandchildren was always possible no matter how far away they were.

Lord, show us how to love our family well, no matter how far away they may be. Teach us what it means to honor our kids as they raise their own children. Open doors for us to be generous and helpful. Teach us to listen well and show them grace. Amen

Supersonic Fliers

 “Those who trust God will soar high on wings like eagles." ~ Isaiah 40:31

When the alley trash can began shaking, Caleb froze in his tracks, wondering what might be inside. His initial thought was a raccoon, but experience suggested coons were smart enough to escape if curious enough to get in.

He decided to turn the can on its side and give the creature a chance to flee. With a cautious step forward, Caleb instantly jumped back as it shook more violently. Perched on the can’s rim wasn’t a raccoon, or any other furry animal, but a peregrine falcon.

Its icy stare left him feeling exposed and intimidated; the kind of gaze that penetrates the soul. The peregrine tilted its head slightly, keeping one eye on Caleb and looking inside the can with the other before retreating inside the can.

A burst of noise followed: ruffled feathers, screeching talons, and the distinct sound of a small animal snarling. Suddenly the falcon burst out and soared into the heavens with a chipmunk clutched in one claw.

Dumbfounded, Caleb took a moment for his brain to find the words to adequately express what he felt. That hawk was magnificent.

What must God be like that He makes such a fierce, beautiful creature? What must He be like that tons of aluminum can lift gracefully off the ground and fly around the globe? For centuries, gravity kept us grounded until someone mastered the science that enables us to fly.

A peregrine falcon is not a meaningless, killing machine. It’s an amazing creature, crafted by our Heavenly Father, revealing something of His creative genius.

Known for its exceptional speed, keen eyesight, and unparalleled hunting skills, the mighty raptor embodies quickness, agility, and focus. Beyond its remarkable physical attributes, the falcon offers deep biblical symbolism that resonates with believers.

Like fighter jets and missiles, peregrine falcons are built for high velocity. Their hollow bones and aerodynamic torso allow them to fly as fast as a cheetah (70 mph), and dive after prey at the speed of an Indy race car (+240 mph). The falcon’s ability to soar high above the earth reminds us to rise above earthly concerns and seek a higher perspective free from earthly constraints.

Their eyes can function simultaneously as both a macro and zoom lens, allowing it to spot small prey from nearly two miles away, and then precisely catch it in midair. Its remarkable eyesight serves as a reminder to keep our spiritual vision clear and to remain focused on our faith.

The falcon's agility, strength, and intelligence make it one of Earth's most formidable hunters. Its precise movements and unwavering focus encourage us to remain centered, purpose-driven, and prepared for spiritual battles.

Not bad for birds nearly extinct in the mid-1960s from the widespread use of the pesticide DDT.

Almighty Father, let the falcon serve as a celestial messenger, steering us toward a deeper understanding of our faith and life's purpose. Help us trust in the spiritual significance of falcon encounters while You guide our path. Amen

My Spiritual BOD

 “Get all the advice and instruction you can.” ~ Proverbs 19:20

Many of the wisest people in my life have passed away as I’ve aged. The stalwarts of good sense, judgment, and inspiration are no longer available to me. So, one day when I heard a friend talk about his Spiritual Board of Directors (SBOD) for advice on something, I listened intently.

Public companies have Boards of Directors that consist of specialized advisors with diverse perspectives, expertise, and relevant experiences. They have fiduciary obligations to act in the best interest of the shareholders and provide invaluable counsel to the firm’s CEO.

As I’m the CEO of my own life, I sit at the head of my boardroom table - or sofa, picnic table, or park bench. So I wrote down the names of people in my life I admired for advice, mentoring, and influence.

My SBOD is a secret group, known only to me. In fact, none of my Directors even knows that they’re on my Board since we never actually meet. Members are not elected, have no term limits, and receive no compensation or recognition for their services.

These 12 cherished adults of integrity, wisdom, and authenticity who help me stay spiritually healthy. I admire them because they consistently lead by EXAMPLE and motivate me to become a better person.

They come from diverse backgrounds. There’s a secretary, a Pastor, a writer, a doctor, an engineer, and several retirees. They are people that I trust implicitly and am not shy to be vulnerable with. The Holy Spirit serves as my Board Chair.

Our faith journeys are fraught with anxiety, confusion, selfishness, and at times hypocrisy. The examples exhibited by my Directors help me stay focused on my identity as a beloved child of God rather than whatever other roles I might enumerate.

It's good to be intentional about the handful of people you choose to most directly influence your actions and your character. I often find myself asking “What would _ name _ do in this situation?” Watching how they live and interact with others, helps me make decisions aligned with God's plan.

Many of us turn to friends and small groups who pray for us when asked. I find it comforting to have someone I can always turn to for prayer. My Directors are people with the gift of intercessory prayer who make it their ministry to pray for others.

So why not give it a try?

Go to your sacred space and light a candle. With pen and paper begin writing down people you know who bring focus, joy, and light into your life. Their living testimony will help you become a better Christian, and encourage you to be the person God created you to be.

Almighty Father, my heart floods with gratitude for the incredible Christians You’ve placed in my life. Thank you for their love, guidance, and unwavering faith that draws me closer to You. May I always be a reflection of Your love through the relationships You’ve graced me with. Amen

Settling In

 “He puts a little of heaven in our hearts, so we'll never settle for less.” ~ 2 Cor. 5:5

When bored or depressed, Murphy often scanned her favorite motivational YouTube videos for some lighthearted inspiration. Today’s speaker was opining about perseverance; never giving up. “What if George Sperti had given up after his first eight formulas (Preparations A through G) had failed?” she questioned.

The humorous but inaccurate answer was “He might never have invented the popular hemorrhoid treatment called Preparation H! We know how painful that would be.”

Fun Fact: It’s the most stolen item in the drugstore because people are too embarrassed to buy it.

Kidding aside, the Italian American inventor’s dogged determination eventually resulted in 127 pharmaceutical patents. He donated most of the money he received to the Institutum Divi Thomae, which he co-founded in 1935 to research cancer.

Murphy finished the video with twin thoughts on the subject. In this culture of money and materialism, one track reminded her that life often rewards those with strength and determination to keep pushing forward, even when the path seems daunting. Sometimes to the detriment of health, relationships, and satisfaction.

Could the antithesis of moving up or forward be “settling in,” she pondered; perhaps getting married, starting a family, or adopting a more stable routine. When everything seems to be working, if our marriages are comfortable, our jobs aren’t terrible, and our finances are secure, most people are satisfied. But are we giving up too early, settling for too little?

The bigger question: “Is God satisfied? Have we become content long before God’s grace has completed His work?”

Murphy knew that she needed His constant intervention until she was transformed into the perfect likeness of Jesus. She would continue to need the forgiving, enabling, and transforming power of His grace until every thought and desire in her heart pleases God. 

She would need His protection and rescue from the seductive temptations of this fallen world.

Murphy recalled what a colleague had shared years ago: “You have to bloom where you’re planted.” For example, there are many ways to see and know the world. Traveling to Rome won’t make one a Christian alone. Prayer, Bible study, fellowship, and allowing Christ the primary place in all life’s choices can make you more of a Christian than someone who lives there.

In the same way, something like “heaven” is as much inside as out; someone with a troubled mind won’t find peace anywhere, no matter how far they travel. Knowledge and contentment are found within, however much you seek it ‘without.’

So, don’t quit before Grace has completed its work. Cry out for more rescue, transformation, and deliverance. Be grateful that your Savior continues to work even in the moments when you don’t value the work you may desperately need.

Precious Lord, I’m a sinner who needs Your Grace and mercy. Shake me from my current routines and turn my focus from myself and toward You. Work in me, through me, and despite me today and every day. Amen

Bus-todian

 “My children, let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth." ~ 1 John 3:18

In a tiny central Missouri town, children stood on ladders ready to tear off the paper covering new letters on the elementary school building. Swedeborg, an unincorporated community has only two businesses: a quick shop and a gas station.

Most of the town’s 497 inhabitants and school staff had gathered for the unveiling. They eagerly awaited the recognition kept secret until the start of the school year.

When it comes time to name a public building, communities look at either historic or financial contributors and choose a high-profile name that brings recognition. Famous Missourians like George Washington Carver, Josephine Baker, and Harry S. Truman adorn facilities across the state. So, when the School Board chose their honoree, they did so carefully.

With fanfare befitting a legend, the letters scrawled across the school’s entrance read “Claudene Wilson Learning Center.” A slightly confused custodian looked up at her name as people applauded in agreement with the Board’s unanimous decision of a rare celebrity who didn’t like attention.

The retired 64-year-old “Bus-todian,” had been the school’s bus driver, custodian, cafeteria helper, and lawn mower for more than three decades. But her most valuable role was being ‘present’ for the children.

She offered special treats like suckers or candy bars for raising grades, kind actions, or noteworthy successes. “They’re what kept me coming back since 1992,” she shared.

School Board President Chuck Boren said of the beloved handywoman, "Claudene treats every student like they're her own.” He knew firsthand. Wilson's last year at the K-8 school was his first. “When the kids get sick, they go to her first. If there was trouble at home, they go to her. She's so empathetic and attuned to every student.”

“By unanimous consent, our goal in renaming the building,” he added, “was not only to honor her 32 years of service, but also to encourage students to be kind, hardworking, and supportive - just like Claudene.”

One parent remarked, “Claudene was the glue that held our school together. By nurturing and supporting our kids, the entire community rises. Kind-hearted people like her create positive ripples into the future.”

Kristi Cargill, an elementary teacher, appreciated Wilson always checking on them to see if they needed a bathroom break or any classroom repairs, by flashing them a thumbs-up outside the hallway window. “I love coming in from summer vacation and seeing the light’s reflection on the walls and floors because she’d waxed and shined them to perfection,” Cargill added. “She never did things halfway.”

Now mostly retired, Wilson is still on campus every day and occasionally helps drive the bus. “I’m no hero,” Wilson claims, “I just hope the school’s new name inspires people to be more kind.”

Heavenly Father, it's only by following You that we can become a beacon of conspicuous love and humble compassion. Help me be a Godly example by my uplifting words, kind actions, unselfish love, and pure heart. Amen

Two Wrongs

 "Instead of drinking to excess, fill your heart with the Holy Spirit" ~ Ephesians 5:18

He’d become far too comfortable driving drunk. At first, he did everything right: using designated drivers, calling Ubers, or even chilling for however long it took to sober up. But as the years went on and Jerrod’s alcohol tolerance increased, he broke his own rules.

What started as a slight buzz evolved into full-blown drunk driving. Tonight, on his drive home, a neighbor driving toward him repeatedly flashed his headlights. It was a warning that the Sheriff was parked around the corner.

He’d been driving more than twice the speed limit. Jerrod decelerated quickly and passed the Sheriff without incident. “Whew, dodged another bullet,” he said to himself.

Aaron, the driver who’d signaled Jerrod to slow down, had seen him ‘flying’ down the road and, knowing him, was probably drunk again. He deliberately flashed a warning.

Days later, Aaron sat alone when his daughter, Carrie, got home, her beautiful smile and warm heart reminded him of his late wife. He missed her so, why did she have to die?

Carrie (17) was now the center of his world. He cherished the memories of years gone by, but she’d always be ‘Daddy’s little girl.’ But oh, how she was growing up too fast!

They spoke briefly, before she hugged him, and kissed Aaron goodnight. She headed for bed, then stopped to say, “I saw a friend of yours today. He said to tell you thanks for flashing your lights. He was going too fast, so he slowed way down. He’d been drinking - that would’ve been his third DWI. He’d be sitting in jail if not for your warning.”

Months later, Jerrod wasn’t speeding or weaving. But when he crested the hill, a crowd of people stood in front of him. He tried to stop. But his reflexes were too slow, too inebriated to react correctly.

By the time the police arrived, Jerrod sat on the side of the road holding his knees, rocking. When he looked up, he saw Aaron talking to the Sheriff. His knees buckled as a river of tears burst from his eyes. He pleaded in vain, “Please don’t tell me it’s not true.”

The Officer pointed at a disheveled Aaron wasted on the curb. He’s the one who caused the fatal accident, and we believe alcohol was a factor. 

Her last words were, “Tell Daddy I love him.”

Aaron got off easy. He served fifteen years in state prison charged with DWI, assault with a deadly weapon, and involuntary manslaughter.

Jerrod’s nightmare will never end. He longs to just once more hear her coming in the door! From Heaven above her voice still echoes: “Dad, trust the law to do its job. Please drive safely, so that everyone’s precious children get home safely.”

Father God, we pray for those addicted to alcohol and find themselves behind the wheel while under its influence. We ask for Your intervention, that You touch their hearts and give them the strength to overcome this destructive habit. Amen

Restored

 “He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion." ~ Philippians 1:6

No one could see what Jackson saw in that old, dilapidated house. It mirrored his own life’s shambles – unemployed, divorced, PTSD.

He saw potential, they couldn’t see past its fractured appearance. They saw rotted siding, chipped paint, falling gutters, and a leaky roof. He envisioned the builder’s original intent – and what that house could be one day with a little work.

Jackson stepped into the run-down home that’d once been a stunning place for a family to live safely. Over time, through neglect and the city’s systemic downfall, it’d fallen into disrepair: filthy, repulsive, and dangerous.

She had some issues but was entitled to them given her decades of decay.

Passerby couldn’t fathom why Jackson worked so hard replacing the roof, windows, and doors. Or why he bothered to sand down the chipped paint.

Despite splinters and muscle strains, he couldn’t stop. The house constantly asked for more – more of his time, money, and energy. He sacrificed hundreds of weekends at the altar of restoration, with endless to-do lists and a love-hate relationship that was addictively alluring.

But he labored on. Jackson knew something others didn’t. He knew how the house had been built and what it was meant to be… because he’d built it.

Restoring it to its original glory reversed the mirror back at him, reflecting new perspectives that he hadn’t considered before: the value of time and money, the importance placed on things new and “improved,” and finally how humble it made him feel.

During its tenure, six families had called it home, filling closets and drawers with their heirlooms, beliefs, and sentiments. Many of those treasures were tender, motivating, and joyful. But there was also clutter metaphorically accrued in their hearts’ darkest spaces - disappointments, regrets, and self-doubt, that robbed them of happiness and purpose in their lives.

It took years, one could even say a lifetime, but eventually, others saw it too. No one recognized the elegant mansion that now replaced the abandoned house. There’s something about being human that longs for, and delights in, seeing something restored.

In the process, he’d learned more about himself and life than he had about replacing gutters.

Upon reflection, Jackson marveled at the comparison between the process of restoring an old house to God's work in his own life. One of the most important considerations in restoration is that as much as possible of the original material must be preserved.

The story reveals how the chaos of rebuilding can result in a beautiful masterpiece, similar to how God can restore a broken person with joy and peace. This points to the redeeming miracles of God’s work as only He can make a broken, ugly world beautiful and whole again.

Lord Almighty, as we navigate the uncertainty of our country’s future, renew our trust that You have a plan for us that brings restoration and renewal in ways that exceed our imagination. Remind us that You are the God of restoration. Amen