Tag: Compassion

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I Wrote a Book

Echoes Through EternityI finished writing a book this week. It took more than two years. It wasn’t a biography or a memoir. I didn’t write about my achievements. It was about how I became me, about what happened in my life that transformed me and shaped me into who I am today.

Childhood Through Adolescence

I spent most of my early life very angry. Not at other people, but at myself. You see, I had a great father. He was a humble man who achieved great things. He quit high school at fourteen and became an itinerant farmhand, moving from job to job. When World War II broke out at 17, he lied about his age to join the Navy. He served in the Philippines on a minesweeper, clearing mines for beachhead invasions. He received two Bronze Stars for valor. His high school burned down during the war, which allowed him to attend college without a high school transcript. In college, he earned a degree in civil engineering.

He went on to become the Superintendent of Highways, the Chairman of our City Council, and the Chairman of the School Board. My dad was funny and never acted as if he were somebody. He was an incredible role model; he really was a good man. Dad was married to my mother for 72 years.

Somewhere along the line, I grew angry with myself. I never did enough, accomplished enough, or knew enough; I was consumed by anxiety about performance. That is the way I lived until my mid-forties. I wasn’t just driven; I was obsessed with my performance and accomplishments, never living up to my expectations. I was successful in business, but I never felt any relief. Despite all my earthly goods, I was not happy. By thirty, I was divorced and had a pacemaker. If someone tried to help me by giving advice, I felt humiliated because I didn’t already know what they were trying to teach me.

All of this was internalized. Outside, I was happy and well-adjusted. I didn’t want others to see my flaws. People saw me as intense and as someone who loved their work. I wish I could say that one day I broke and God fixed me, but that wasn’t what happened.

My Forties

One day in my forties, I picked up a Bible. Not because I felt God cared or even knew I existed, but because I was seeking answers. It helped. I read it cover to cover every year for about four years. I never once sought eternal salvation, only salvation from the life I lived. It calmed my anger and gave me perspective. It didn’t quench the drive within me.

Then, somehow, I came across a book by Lee Strobel titled “A Case for Christ.” Lee meticulously documented that every story in the New Testament is historically accurate. Christ lived, died, and rose again. He performed all the miracles described. I needed to go to Church. Who was this guy? This wasn’t a book of fables or stories; it was real life.

“If Jesus Christ was who He claimed to be, and He did die on a cross at a point of time in history, then, for all history past and all history future, it is relevant because that is the very focal point for forgiveness and redemption.” – Josh McDowell

Isaiah 44:22, “I have swept away your offenses like a cloud, your sins like the morning mist. Return to me, for I have redeemed you.”

I went from church to church in search of answers. I was not, and still am not, a fan of religion. Arbitrary rules were piled onto the gospel in an attempt to segment the marketplace (Personal Bias). I ended up at a gospel-teaching church that simply preached what the Bible says. No membership rules, no membership classes, just the gospel.

For several years, I attended this church and learned about salvation. But I was still self-driven. I was perhaps calmer, friendlier, and much less angry, yet I remained focused on myself. I now wanted to be the best Tomme Stevenson God could make.

True Conversion

Then one day, a friend gave me a cassette tape of a one-man play called “The Bema.” The question was: What have you done for Christ since you met Him? My answer: Nothing. This is where my book begins. This is where true transformation began. It was when I stopped looking only at myself and started looking outward.

The book documents how an extremely logical, pragmatic person met Christ. How Christ used my life to mold me into the person I was always meant to be. How the person I am today is a light-year away from who I was. It is the tragedy of wasting almost five decades chasing meaningless things instead of living the life I was meant to live.

1 Corinthians 1:30, “It is because of him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom from God—that is, our righteousness, holiness and redemption.”

It was a lot of dumpster fires and train wrecks; I’m a hard guy to get through to at times. But every one of them had purpose and meaning. Every one of them changed me for the better. I started looking at God’s plan and moving away from mine: I started judging results not by what I wanted to achieve, but by what God had planned.

I am now more relaxed, still a type “A” personality, but living by God’s standard, not mine.  These last twenty-five years have been the best. The book is my best description of how that transformation took place. It is simple lessons from an ordinary life learning to live for Christ.

Galatians 2:20, “I have been crucified with Christ, and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.”

P.S. if you want an electronic copy drop  me an email. It was created for my family, but otherwise not completely unreadable.

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Heroes vs. Survivors

Heroes vs SurvivorsHeroes vs. survivors. We don’t grow up wanting to be just survivors. I think most of us grow up wanting to be heroes because heroes are simple.

HEROES

Heroes leap over tall buildings. They rescue people from burning buildings. They charge into battle as swelling music plays behind them. Their victories are clear and decisive. The credits roll, and everyone knows who saved the day.

Real life rarely works that way.

Romans 8:28, “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”

Real life is getting up when you don’t want to. It is going to work after receiving bad news. Real life is burying someone you love and still finding the strength to comfort others at the funeral. It is waking the next morning after a failure and paying the bills anyway. Real life is forgiving someone who never apologized. It is choosing not to become cruel even though life has given you every excuse. Real life is learning to trust again. It is carrying grief without letting it poison your ability to love.

Real life is survival with your emotions intact.

SURVIVAL

Philippians 4:13, “I can do all this through him who gives me strength.”

That may be one of the hardest things a person can do. Survival, by itself, isn’t rare. Human beings are remarkably resilient. We can become numb, shut down, and harden ourselves until nothing gets in or out.

But surviving with your humanity intact is different. That is the difference between merely enduring and truly surviving.

Surviving is enduring suffering while remaining compassionate. It is knowing betrayal and still trusting. It means facing bitterness and still choosing hope. Survivors experience injustice and still believe in people’s worth.

That isn’t flashy. No action figures are made for that. No child dresses up for Halloween as “The Person Who Kept Showing Up Despite Their Grief.”

SCARS

Isaiah 55:8-9, “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord. “As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.”

And yet, those are the people who quietly hold the world together. They don’t say, “I lost.” They say, “It left scars.”

Scars are evidence of healing. They are not proof that nothing happened. They are proof that something happened and that you endured.

The ancient warrior people we admired were covered in scars. The difference is that we romanticize the scars we can see and overlook those carried in silence.

REAL HEROES

Isaiah 40:29, “He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.”

I have traveled thousands of miles to sit with struggling entrepreneurs. I’ve taught students who may never remember my name. I’ve written about pain not to display it but to help others navigate their own. I’ve continued to exercise, learn, serve, and hope, even while carrying losses I rarely describe in detail. That is life.

I know we resist the word “hero,” and I understand why. We associate it with exceptional people who do what ordinary people cannot.

But perhaps there is another definition. Maybe a hero isn’t someone who avoids fear. Maybe a hero is simply someone who refuses to surrender their humanity.

Someone who keeps showing up, absorbing hardship without passing it on.

Someone who says, “This pain stops with me.”

It is the person who can still laugh, still teach, still encourage, and still notice the person sitting alone in the corner after life has taken its swings.

You may never feel like an action figure. Most survivors don’t. They know too much about their failures, doubts, anger, exhaustion, and limitations to believe in the mythology.

But if I had to choose between following the invincible hero who has never bled and the scarred survivor who says, “I’ve been knocked down more than once. I don’t have all the answers, but I know you can take one more step because I’ve taken it myself,”

I CHOOSE

1 Thessalonians 5:16-18, “Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”

I would choose the survivor every time.

Because survivors don’t offer fantasy, they offer hope. Not the hope that life won’t wound us, but the hope that wounds don’t have the final word.

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Another Year

Another year, another birthdayAnother year, another Birthday has arrived.

Preparation for old age should begin no later than one’s teens. A life that is empty of purpose until 65 will not suddenly become filled upon retirement. – Dwight L. Moody

At 76, I have gained something many people never do: perspective. Not because life has been easy, but because I have stayed engaged with it. I have seen success and disappointment, opportunity and poverty, faith and doubt, and love and loss across cultures and continents.

Job 12:12, “Is not wisdom found among the aged? Does not long life…. bring understanding?”

When I was younger, I measured life by milestones. Today, I measure it by opportunities. Opportunities to learn, to help, to encourage, and to leave something behind that matters. The milestones fade. The opportunities shape us.

When I was young, birthdays seemed to be about getting older. Somewhere along the way, I realized they are really about getting another chance to live.

Life rarely unfolds as we imagine. We begin with plans, dreams, and expectations. Then reality arrives. We encounter obstacles we never anticipated, losses we never wanted, and lessons we never volunteered to learn.

The road is rarely smooth.

Proverbs 4:7, “The beginning of wisdom is this: Get wisdom. Though it costs all you have, get understanding.”

There are victories worth celebrating, yet they often arrive disguised as struggles. The promotion follows years of sacrifice. Wisdom follows mistakes. Strength follows hardship. Compassion is often born of pain.

Looking back, I can see that some of the greatest blessings in my life arrived disguised as disappointment.

Isaiah 46:4, “Even to your old age and gray hairs I am He, I am He who will sustain you.”

The challenges were not interruptions in life; they were life itself.

The failures taught me humility. The setbacks taught me perseverance. The heartbreak taught me empathy. The uncertainty taught me faith.

I would not have chosen many of those experiences, yet I would not be who I am without them.

Psalms 37:25, “I was young and now I am old, yet I have never seen the righteous forsaken.”

As the years pass, I find myself less impressed by achievement and more by endurance.

I admire those who keep going:

    • The people who get back up after life knocks them down.
    • The people who continue loving after loss.
    • The people who continue to hope even when circumstances offer little reason to do so.
    • The people who quietly do what is right when no one is watching.

The world often celebrates the extraordinary moment. I have come to appreciate the extraordinary life built on ordinary faithfulness.

    • One day at a time.
    • One decision at a time.
    • One act of kindness at a time.
    • One step forward at a time.

Psalms 92:14, “They will still bear fruit in old age, they will stay fresh and green.”

Birthdays have also taught me something about gratitude.

    • I am grateful for the people who walked beside me, even if only for a season.
    • I am grateful for those who encouraged me when I doubted myself.
    • I am grateful to those who challenged me because they helped shape me.
    • I am grateful for the opportunities God placed before me and for the strength He provided when the path became difficult.

Most of all, I am grateful that God is not finished with me yet.

    • Every sunrise is evidence of purpose.
    • Every breath is a gift.
    • Every day is another chance to learn, to serve, to encourage, and to leave the world a little better than we found it.

I do not know how many birthdays remain ahead of me. None of us does.

But I know this: Life is not measured by the number of years we are given. It is measured by how we live them.

So today I celebrate—not because I am another year older, but because I have been given another year to run the race.

    • Another year to learn.
    • Another year to serve.
    • Another year to love.
    • Another year to grow.

And until I run out of time or money, whichever comes first, I intend to keep running.

Psalm 90:12, “Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.”

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A Tree Does Not Hear Its Own Growth.

A tree does not hear the sound of its own growth

A tree does not hear its own growth resonates because it captures something deeply true about human experience.

GROWTH

Growth is usually silent as it happens. A tree does not hear the deepening of its roots, the thickening of its trunk, or the widening of its branches. It simply continues to respond to sunlight, storms, drought, seasons, and time.

Only years later does someone stand in its shade and realize what it has become.

Proverbs 21:21, “Whoever pursues righteousness and love finds life, prosperity, and honor.”

Human growth often unfolds the same way. While we are living through it, it rarely feels dramatic or meaningful. Most days feel repetitive, uncertain, or unfinished. We tend to notice failures, limitations, and the distance left to travel more than the gradual transformation unfolding beneath the surface.

INWARD FOCUS

What we miss is that discipline becomes character, suffering becomes empathy, repetition becomes mastery, and action becomes a legacy.

Others often see the growth before we do.

That may partially explain why we sometimes doubt our impact. The person inside the process feels the struggle, not the full shape of the outcome. The tree knows only the wind’s resistance; it does not see the forest changing around it.

Philippians 2:3, “Humility is the fear of the Lord; its wages are riches and honor and life.”

And perhaps that is why simple continued action matters so much. Growth rarely announces itself in the moment. It accumulates quietly until one day the results become impossible to ignore.

OUTWARD FOCUS

When outward acknowledgment becomes the primary goal, growth is often distorted, not always destroyed but redirected. Inward growth is usually anchored in truth, purpose, competence, service, curiosity, or conviction.

Outward growth is anchored in applause, comparison, visibility, approval, status, or validation.

The problem is not acknowledgment itself. Humans naturally want to be seen and valued, which is normal. The danger arises when external recognition becomes the standard for worth or progress.

Philippians 2:3, “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves.”

Because then several things tend to happen: action becomes performance, authenticity becomes branding, patience weakens because recognition is usually desired immediately, difficult but meaningful work gets abandoned if it goes unnoticed, and identity becomes dependent on audience reaction.

One of the strange realities of life is that some of the most important work receives little immediate recognition, including raising children, mentoring, caring for others, building integrity, helping people in need, and quietly serving communities.

These things often echo across decades without public acknowledgment.

THE SOUND OF YOUR ECHO

Matthew 23:12, “For those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”

Meanwhile, outward validation can become addictive because it temporarily resolves uncertainty. Praise tells us:

“You matter.”
>“You succeeded.”
>“You are enough.”

But the effect fades quickly, so greater recognition is needed to sustain that feeling. That creates a cycle in which a person increasingly lives from reaction to reaction rather than from conviction to conviction.

 “Character is what a man is in the dark.” – Dwight L. Moody

Inward growth is slower and quieter, often lonelier too. Yet it tends to foster stability because the person’s direction no longer depends entirely on the crowd. Ironically, many people who create lasting impact are not primarily chasing recognition. They are absorbed in the work itself: solving the problem, building the thing, helping the people, or pursuing the mission.

Recognition sometimes follows as a side effect rather than the primary objective.

That connects to: “People should focus not on my achievements, but the change that occurs from simply acting.”

That mindset naturally protects against being trapped by external validation because it prioritizes process and consequences over image.

Don’t listen for the sound of your own growth; just keep doing.

Proverbs 20:7, “The righteous who walks in his integrity—blessed are his children after him!”

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Buried but Not Forgotten

Buried PainBuried but not forgotten, I was asked today to join a panel to discuss one of the most painful events of my life. The purpose is noble: to help others understand pain, survival, and the hidden struggles people carry. We go through these stages to refine ourselves and become more human in our interactions with others.

We live in a broken world where pain is an inevitable part of our lives. Because we only know our own experiences, it is hard to imagine others going through the same thing. Our pain is unique to us.

John 16:33, “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world, you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

Buried

What you have gone through prepares you to help others. It makes you relatable. It also gives you the experience to know that you can survive and thrive in a world that is doing its best to crush you. That is an important message to pass on.

But pain is pain. Much of it I have buried deep in the ground. I have even removed the headstone so I do not go back to revisit it. It is part of me. It influences decisions in subtle, subconscious ways. I don’t have to make friends with it. I need to understand it and find a way forward without letting it dictate my life. And I have.

Hebrews 13:5, “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.”

Now I have been asked to resurrect it. I have been asked to go deep into the woods and find the indentation in the ground marking its resting place. I must search for it. Remember where and why I buried it. Then I have to revive it, bring it back to life in front of others.

Resurrected

I don’t know how. I’ve gone over it and over it in my mind. How do I talk about something so personal without being condescending or glib? How do I keep from masking the hurt and shame while staying honest? No one, not even my closest and dearest friend, knows the whole story. Mostly to protect the other party, partly to protect myself.

I’m afraid I have no advice today except this. That day, the one that changed my life forever, was not a hard decision. It came naturally.

God said, “Do this,” and I did.

I think it saved a life.

But it cost me everything.

To the outside world, it was a failure on a grand scale. But to me, there was no plan “B”. I have never regretted it, and given the chance, I would do it again.

Isaiah 41:10, “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”

Living

But there is a scar that runs deep. Every once in a while, I gently rub my hand over it to remind myself I am still alive. I have to do that because I am human, and until that changes, I will feel pain from time to time.

I have a God who has never abandoned me, even in the moments when I could not understand the cost. In my darkest hour, He is there. There is nothing I will ever go through that is a surprise to Him. And, if I allow, He will use it for my good.

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 about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.”

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Opportunity: The Unrecognized Path from Poverty

Poverty and OpportunityThe unrecognized path out of poverty isn’t education or money; it’s opportunity.

I have spent a significant amount of time in developing nations. In many of these places, illiteracy is common—not because people lack intelligence or motivation, but because their environment rarely requires reading or writing. Access to written materials, digital tools, and formal systems is limited. Life centers on survival, often through physical labor, with the priority simple: find enough for today. Tomorrow will have to wait its turn.

World events and political debates rarely intersect with daily life. The stock market, industrial growth, and global conflict are distant abstractions. When survival is the priority, long-term planning becomes a luxury.

If we define poverty as the lack of stable income, reliable healthcare, infrastructure, and access to capital, a significant share of the world would be considered poor. Even under more moderate income thresholds of $3.65 to $6.85 per day, nearly half of the global population remains economically fragile. These are not people on the brink of starvation but people living one disruption away from crisis.

The Less Obvious

What is less obvious is that this fragility is not limited to developing nations.

In the United States, where the median individual income is roughly $40,000 to $45,000 per year, an estimated 50–60% of people would struggle to absorb a major financial shock without outside help. The difference is not whether vulnerability exists—it is how visible it is. In developing nations, it is expected. In developed nations, it is often hidden behind higher income levels.

So what does survival—and ultimately progress—depend on?

It is not money alone. Many high-income individuals live under constant financial strain.
It is not education alone. Many well-educated individuals fail to translate knowledge into meaningful progress.

The people who consistently move forward, regardless of their environment, tend to share two characteristics. First, they have access to opportunity. Second—and more importantly—they act on it.

Opportunity Is Not Equal

Ephesians 5:15-16, “Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity.”

Opportunity is not evenly distributed, but more importantly, it is not equally visible.

In developing environments, opportunities are often constrained by external factors. Limited infrastructure, lack of access to capital, and underdeveloped markets restrict what is possible. A person may have the ability and the willingness, but no clear path to apply either.

In developed environments, the challenge is different. Opportunity is abundant, but it is often diluted. With many possible paths comes uncertainty, distraction, and hesitation. When everything is possible, nothing feels urgent. The perceived cost of failure becomes a barrier, even when the actual risk is relatively small.

This creates an unexpected contrast. In one environment, people cannot act because opportunities are scarce. In the other, people often do not act because opportunities are overwhelming.

Opportunity Has Two Components

2 Corinthians 9:6, “The point is this: whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows bountifully will also reap bountifully.”

Opportunity is not a single condition. It is the intersection of two elements:

Access – the presence of a viable path, and action – the decision to take that path

“The secret of getting ahead is getting started.”  Mark Twain

Most efforts to reduce poverty focus on access: education, funding, infrastructure, and systems. These are essential. Without them, opportunity cannot exist meaningfully.

But access alone does not create change. An opportunity that is not acted upon is indistinguishable from one that never existed.

Why Opportunity Is Missed

Colossians 4:5, “Be wise in the way you act toward outsiders; make the most of every opportunity.”

In developing regions, opportunities are often missed because they are structurally blocked. There may be no capital to start a business, no market to reach, or no infrastructure to support growth.

In developed regions, opportunities are missed for very different reasons: fear of losing what already exists, comfort with the status quo, overanalysis and indecision, lack of urgency, and, most importantly, the absence of accountability.

These are not external barriers. They are internal constraints.

This leads to a paradox: Those with the least opportunity often act decisively when given a chance, while those with the most opportunity hesitate.

The Real Constraint

The limiting factor is not intelligence. It is not even education. It is the ability to recognize opportunity in its earliest form—and to act before it becomes obvious.

Most opportunities do not arrive fully developed. They do not present themselves as a clear, low-risk path, they often appear incomplete, uncertain, and inconvenient. They may require effort before reward, risk before clarity, and movement without guarantees.

Those who progress are not necessarily those with the best opportunities, but those who act on imperfect ones.

A More Accurate Definition of Poverty

Poverty is not simply the absence of resources. It is the absence of an accessible, actionable opportunity. In many cases, it is the absence of the mindset required to act when that opportunity appears.

Proverbs 14:23, “All hard work brings a profit, but mere talk leads only to poverty.”

This applies globally, locally, and individually.

The Path Forward

If this is true, the path out of poverty, whether in a rural village or a developed city, requires more than money or education.

It is the creation of environments where opportunity is visible and reachable, and where people are equipped—and expected—to act.

Romans 11:29, “The gifts and calling of God are irrevocable.”

This is where real change occurs. Not when opportunity is merely theoretical, but when it becomes practical, tangible, and acted upon.

Closing Thought

Opportunity is the bridge between potential and progress.

Without opportunity, potential remains dormant. Without action, opportunity is wasted.

Where both exist, progress becomes inevitable.

Revelation 3:8, “Behold, I have set before you an open door, which no one can shut.”

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Love, Loss, and What Remains

Love, Loss, and What RemainsLove, Loss, and What Remains. Sometimes, for reasons I don’t always understand, life doesn’t just disappoint—it crashes. Not the hardship we expect or prepare for, but the kind that divides everything into before and after. A moment arrives—a phone call, a diagnosis, a goodbye you didn’t know was final—and life as you knew it vanishes.

What follows is not noise but silence. A black silence. Thought escapes us. The mind, so capable of solving problems and navigating difficulty, simply stops. It has been struck too hard, too suddenly, too completely. There is no immediate path forward, no reason to rise—only the weight of what cannot be undone.

LOVE

The source of this kind of devastation is almost always love.

We can make sense of physical pain. We can measure it, treat it, and endure it. But when something touches the heart—when love is broken, removed, or lost—the damage is different. Love creates attachment, identity, and meaning. When it is taken away, it is not merely a loss; it is disorientation. The mind searches for resolution, but none is to be found.

I would like to say that we heal over time. Sometimes we do. But sometimes we don’t heal completely; we learn to live with what remains. The greater the love, the greater the pain. Not feeling that pain would mean something far worse: that we had never loved deeply.

The privilege of loving carries the possibility of immense pain.

1 Peter 4:8, “Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.”

LOSS

I live with that pain. Fifteen years later, it still brings me to tears.

I never want to become the person who forgets—who buries it so deeply that the heart grows numb to its presence. That experience shaped who I am. At one point in my life, it was a driving light. It changed me and made me better.

Yes, this is mine to carry. It is something I never want to lose. Anything this powerful is meant to be remembered. I want that feeling to keep shaping me, not fade into something distant and harmless. When I feel its weight, I understand others’ pain in a way I never could before. What once seemed like it would destroy me has become a source of connection to the rest of humanity. It remains one of the darkest moments of my life. But I survived—and I continue to live.

If love has the power to break us, it also reveals something deeper about how we were made.

God created us to love and be loved. This is not a minor part of who we are—it is central to our design. It is the essence of Christ’s teaching. Love binds us together, gives meaning to our lives, and drives us toward one another. When directed rightly, it changes lives for the better. When withheld or broken, it leaves damage in its wake.

Psalm 147:3, “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”

But that damage does not define our worth.

Love lost has a way of making us feel unworthy of love. That is the lie it tells. If we believe it, it pulls us deeper into despair. But the truth stands in direct opposition to that lie: God’s love is not conditional. It is not withdrawn, and it does not fail as human love sometimes does.

1 John 4:19, “We love because He first loved us.”

He is present in the silence. He is present in the pain. Even when we cannot feel it, we are not alone.

WHAT REMAINS

I have come to see pain differently. Not as something to escape or erase, but as evidence. Evidence that something real existed. Evidence that love once took hold. If I had never loved, I would never have known this depth of feeling. That experience, however costly, would be absent from my life.

I would be less for it.

The pain remains, not as something to be feared but as something to be understood. It is part of what makes us human. And, in a way that is difficult to explain yet impossible to ignore, it is also part of what enables us to truly love again.

1 Corinthians 13, “If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.”

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The Good Son, A Warning

The Good SonThe good son—do you even know who I am talking about? Luke 15:11-32 is a parable Jesus taught about a lost, wayward son who finds redemption through a good father. The story is often taught in Sunday school and is the subject of many sermons and commentaries. The focus of most of these teachings is on how the prodigal son squandered his inheritance, was redeemed by a loving father, and was restored to his family. It exemplifies the act of Christ redeeming us back into His family after we have turned our backs on Him.

This is a great story in itself. But, like many of Jesus’ teachings, this one carries a warning.

The Good Son

The part of one verse that caught my attention is in verse 28: “So his father went out and pleaded with him.” This statement describes the good son, the rule follower, who is filled with righteous indignation over the lost son’s treatment. We sometimes hear or read a commentary about this son. We hear how he, like Jonah, followed all the rules, did what was right, believed he had earned God’s blessing, and did not want to see the unworthy rewarded above himself.

Jonah ran from God to try to stop God’s salvation plan for the Ninevites. The good son simply refused to join the celebration. The good son, like Jonah, felt there was an admission price tied to redemption.

But the father went out to him and pleaded with him.

Today’s Church

Galatians 2:21, “I do not nullify the grace of God, for if righteousness comes through the Law, then Christ died needlessly.”

I am a visual learner. If I can see something with my eyes or imagine it in my mind, I will remember it longer. So, when I read verse 28, the image that appeared in my mind was my church—actually, any church. Jesus was at the pulpit, and the wayward sons were in the congregation. They are like the thief on the cross or the Ninevites who desperately wanted grace, but Christ had to go out into the parking lot to gather all of the good sons into the church. These are the parishioners who regularly attend church, tithe, participate in community groups and Bible studies, and pray. They are working toward crowns and jewels as a reward for their service.

The people standing outside are earning their redemption by following all the rules. They see themselves as justified because they are trying. Biblically, they understand they can’t balance the scales, but at least they are making an effort. The problem is that they love God’s stuff—redemption and grace—without truly loving God.

Romans 9:30-32, “What then shall we say? That the Gentiles who did not strive for righteousness have achieved it, that is, righteousness based on faith, but that Israel, who did strive for righteousness based on the Law, did not succeed in attaining it? Why did this happen? Because they did not pursue it by faith but on the basis of works. They tripped over the stone that causes one to stumble,”

The good son is the Pharisees of biblical times. But he is also the overly righteous of our day.

The Idea of Heaven

“The critical question for our generation—and for every generation— is this: If you could have heaven, with no sickness, and with all the friends you ever had on earth, and all the food you ever liked, and all the leisure activities you ever enjoyed, and all the natural beauties you ever saw, all the physical pleasures you ever tasted, and no human conflict or any natural disasters, could you be satisfied with heaven, if Christ were not there? ” ― John Piper, God Is the Gospel: Meditations on God’s Love as the Gift of Himself

They love the idea of heaven, the idea of not being sick, no pain, no sin, seeing loved ones again in an ideal environment, rather than spending eternity at the feet of Christ.

There is a song “What a God” that has lyrics that say:

If the highest place I reached is at your feet. Then I’ve done it all.

If the best thing that I’ve seen is your glory. Then I’ve seen it all,

If one word is the only thing you speak. Then I’ve heard it all,

If I feel your heart and never see your hand. I still have it all,

This is the definition of heaven. It’s not about inheriting streets of gold and rooms in a mansion: it’s not the result of a transactional relationship. It’s about receiving what we don’t deserve and basking in the glory of that gift.

At judgment, I don’t want to be caught standing in the parking lot. Jesus will come out and call me home, but it’s not the homecoming I want. I want to remember to love Christ for who He is, not what He offers. I want to be the person He made me to be, not as repayment, but out of genuine awe of who He is and what He has done for me.

Titus 2:11, “For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people.”

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Logos Hope, the true hope.

Logos Hope 2026 BermudaLogos Hope, the true hope. I just spent a week in an environment that should be impossible. Let me paint a picture. You are the head of a family of five, three children ages 18, 19, and 20. You tell the first child, you are responsible for kitchen. Buy all the food, cook all the meals, wash the dishes and mop the floor. The second child you instruct that they are responsible for the household. They clean, sweep, do laundry, and mend broken things. The third child is responsible for all things dealing with transportation, if anyone wants to go anywhere, at any time, you take them. And, this assignment lasts two years. You work five days, take one day to help your neighbors, and then you get one day of rest.

HOW LONG WOULD THIS LAST?

On Logos Hope, over twenty years. There are no passengers, only crew. They maintain everything from the engine room, galley, cabins, and all decks. They work five days, have one community day, and one day off a week. Sounds like a slave gallon of ancient Rome.

Hebrews 10:24, “And let us consider how we spur one another on toward love and good deeds.”

It’s not. It is the most amazing experience I have ever witnessed. 350 Christian adolescents from 60 different countries working together to not only keep this floating city running, but serving every community they interact with in incredible, meaningful ways. They accomplish this with extreme harmony. There will always be good days and bad days in anyone’s life, but this crew bands together in every situation to help and support each other.

STORIES

Matthew 5:14, “You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill can not be hidden.”

The stories are as amazing as the people themselves. A young lady from Russia had a recurring dream for several year about being on a white boat. One day someone told her about Operation Mobilization, a Christian based non- profit. She went to their website to scroll through the information. There, in full color, was her white boat. She tried to dismiss it, but the connection was too strong. Filling out the application she thought nothing would come of it. She is now 30 years old and has been volunteering on Logos Hope for five years.

Roman’s 12:4-4, “For just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not have the same function, so in Christ we, though many, form one body, each member belongs to all the others”

A teenage from Moldavia had just graduated from high school with no plans, and no direction. Her plan, get a job, and then exist like everyone else. She heard of Logos. It was something outside of her comfort zone. Her church encouraged her to apply. At 18 years old she is happily part of the crew. She says her life will never be the same. It now has purpose and meaning. She can not go back to being who she was.

I can tell you stories from Kyrgyzstan, Zambia, Argentina, Singapore, Malaysia, United States and many more. They are all the same. Decision to chase the uncertain that dramatically changed lives.

COMMUNITY DAYS

What are community days? Every crew member must sign up for a community day each week. A community day could be a visit to the local prison, it could be handing out fliers that describe the weekly events held on or around Logos. These events are seminars, bible studies, entertainment, painting local schools, ship tours, performing in plays. Any number of things that have been scheduled by advance teams working with the local community.

1 Peter 4:10, “Each of you should use whatever gifts you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms.“

Logos stays in each port about two weeks. It has the largest floating book store in the world, with over 5,000 titles. It has a doctor, a dentist and teachers for the volunteer’s children. At each stop crew members dramatically impact the community receiving them.

If you want an experience that will change you forever, check out Logos Hope on the Operation Mobilization website. Commitments are for three month, six months, one year, and two years. They also schedule one week “vision trips” for groups interested in knowing more.

2 Corinthians 5:20, “ We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God we are making His appeal through us. We implore you on Christ’s behalf: be reconciled to God.”

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When Hope and Depression Share the Same Heart

depression and faithWhen hope and depression share the same heart, Christ becomes essential. While I was in Kyrgyzstan, I had a conversation that stayed with me. A woman shared that her mother — a trained psychologist — is battling depression. What makes her situation more complicated is not just the illness itself but also the theology surrounding it. Some in their Christian community believe that a Christian should not experience depression. The reasoning seems straightforward:

Christ is our hope. If hope exists, depression should not be present. It sounds faithful, but it is not entirely biblical.

“I find myself frequently depressed—perhaps more so than any other person here. And I find no better cure for that depression than to trust in the Lord with all my heart and seek to realize afresh the power of the peace-speaking blood of Jesus.” – Charles Spurgeon

Speaking Thoughtfully About Depression

Before referencing Scripture, we need to define terms precisely.

There is a difference between everyday sadness and clinical depression. Clinical depression involves a persistent low mood, loss of interest, changes in sleep or appetite, difficulty concentrating, and physical exhaustion that can last for weeks or longer. It is widely recognized in medicine and psychology as a real health condition that impacts both emotional and physical well-being.

This isn’t about reducing the soul to chemistry; it’s about recognizing that we are embodied beings. Spiritual faith doesn’t dismiss physical processes. The Bible was written in a pre-modern medical context, yet it often speaks openly about deep emotional pain.

Scripture Does Not Hide Despair

The book of Lamentations clearly shows that sorrow has a place in faith. The author describes suffering, bitterness, and a soul that is “downcast” (Lamentations 3:20). These words remain in Scripture — they are not removed.

Yet in the same chapter, we read:

Lamentations 3:21, “Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope…”

Notice what happens. The despair is real. It is voiced. It is not denied. Hope emerges not by pretending sorrow doesn’t exist, but by remembering who God is in the midst of it.

Hope and lament coexist.

Elijah and the Collapse After Victory

In 1 Kings 19, Elijah has a major spiritual victory when fire comes down from heaven. But soon after, he flees into the wilderness and prays for death.

“I have had enough, Lord… Take my life.”

God does not accuse him of weak faith. He gives him sleep, provides food, and restores his strength before speaking to him softly.

Scripture demonstrates that there is no conflict between spiritual devotion and emotional exhaustion. A prophet can love God deeply and still go through despair.

The Psalms and Honest Faith

Almost one-third of the Psalms are laments.

“How long, O Lord?”
“My tears have been my food day and night.”
“Darkness is my closest friend.” (Psalm 88)

Psalm 88 ends without resolution. There is no triumphant closing line. Yet, it remains Scripture.

The Bible does not sanitize suffering. It elevates it.

Even Jesus said in Gethsemane, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death” (Matthew 26:38). Sorrow is not evidence of spiritual failure.

The Danger of Simplistic Theology

Our darkness does not threaten Christ. He encounters us in it — and sometimes the most faithful thing a believer can do is cling to Him while the night still lingers.

When we tell a suffering believer that their depression reflects a lack of faith, we risk increasing their shame, which is already substantial. We also risk alienating them from the community that is intended to share their burdens. Furthermore, we risk misrepresenting Scripture.

Christian hope isn’t emotional immunity; it’s an anchor (Hebrews 6:19). Anchors aren’t needed in calm seas but are crucial during storms.

Depression, in various forms, affects many of us throughout our lives—through grief, prolonged stress, illness, or loss. That reality does not threaten Christianity. In fact, the Bible’s honesty about despair is one of its strongest points. It presents us with faithful people who struggle with darkness but still trust God.

Faith doesn’t lessen our humanity; it shows us how to steer through it.

A Message to the daughter — and to the Church

To the daughter who loves her mother: your mother’s struggles are not signs of spiritual failure. They show that she is human. The fact that she understands the mind does not protect her from suffering. Knowledge does not make her immune.

To the church: the safest place in the world for someone battling depression should be the body of Christ, not a courtroom or a theological debate. It should serve as a refuge.

Hope doesn’t depend on the absence of sorrow; it relies on God’s presence within it. The author of Lamentations acknowledged the darkness and remembered the Lord through it. Maybe that is the more faithful approach.

Hope isn’t the denial of sorrow; it’s a choice to trust that God stays present even when the soul feels downcast.

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