What are the Four Important Lessons I have Learned in Life?

Life LessonsHere are the four important lessons I have learned in life.

Lesson One: Created to Glorify God

Ecclesiastes 12:13, “The end of the matter; all has been heard. Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man.”

God created us to glorify Him. Isaiah 43:7 declares, “Everyone called by My name and created for My glory, whom I have indeed formed and made.” The entire Bible supports this declaration. Everything we do with family, friends, co-workers, customers, suppliers, and strangers has one purpose; to glorify our maker. If we understand only one thing, it is this. We were created to glorify God.

Everything else is simply a resource God has given us to accomplish that task.

1 Corinthians 10:31, “So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God.”

Lesson Two: You are Unique and Perfect

Proverbs 16:4(a), “The Lord has made everything for its purpose.”

We were created perfectly and uniquely for the purpose God has for us. We cannot be like anyone else, and no one else can be like us. Even the attributes we see as deficiencies were created specifically to help us achieve God’s plan for our lives. These “deficiencies” are not to be eliminated but rechanneled.

God has a plan for all eight billion of us on the planet. Our plan may intersect with God’s plan for another, but it never replaces it. We each get to choose whether to follow. Look to God for guidance, not to the world. The world’s standards are constantly changing; God is the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

Psalm 33:11, “But the plans of the Lord stand firm forever, the purposes of His heart through all generations.”

Lesson Three: You are Where God has Destined You to be

James 4:14, “Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.”

In this exact moment, and in every moment, you are where God wants you to be. No moment can be repeated. There are no do-overs or mulligans. Every moment counts. Time does not care about your economic status, your resume, or your gifting: it keeps moving forward.

The Bible is full of stories about people who endured a wilderness season before God called them forward. Joseph suffered in prison; David fled from Saul and hid in the wilderness; Moses tended his father-in-law’s sheep; and Esther lost her parents and lived in exile. Mordecai said it best when he told Esther, “How do you know that you were not born for a time such as this?” He followed that with a warning, “And if you do not act, God will raise someone in your place who will receive your glory.”

Live this moment fully, and the future will take care of itself.

John 9:4, “As long as it is day, we must do the works of him who sent me.”

Lesson Four: Every Life Leaves a Sound.

Your life will echo through time. Neither the things that bear your name nor the inheritance you leave your family will create a lasting mark. People will soon use up what you leave behind, and each passing generation will remember less about you. But character, compassion, love, patience, and gentleness endure. They are the legacy passed from generation to generation.

You can choose your legacy or leave it to chance. Act intentionally or hope someone will see something good. Build things that rust and deteriorate, or create something lasting. You choose with every action, decision, and response. Leave something behind worth having.

Psalm 103:17, “But from everlasting to everlasting the Lord’s love is with those who fear him, and his righteousness with their children’s children.”

Conclusion

Live a life worth passing on. Build a life of meaning and purpose. You will always know you matter. Your life will leave a legacy worth dying for.

Christian Leadership

LeadershipThe single most important thing a leader can give their best people isn’t perks or even money; it’s a goal worth their time. That is an important point. Whether we accept the role or not, as Christians we are leaders. As Christians, we are watched, and people decide whether what we say we believe in is worth investing in.

The Question

So, the question is: Do we give them a goal worth their time?

Hebrews 13:7, “Remember your leaders, who spoke the word of God to you. Consider the outcome of their way of life and imitate their faith.”

What does your life say about your beliefs? I have written a lot about how precious time is. We don’t get do-overs for wasted time. That isn’t to say downtime is wasted, but is it intentional? Right now, I am more interested in uptime. What do we say to the world about how we use productive time to reflect a life worth living?

2 Timothy 2:15, “Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a worker who does not need to be ashamed and who correctly handles the word of truth.”

I remember reading that Christ isn’t just preparing a place for us but preparing us for that place. To me, that means the life we are living right now as aliens on this planet has meaning. The way we live here and now is preparation for eternity.

The Answer

When people watch us go about our everyday lives, do they see something worth aspiring to? Is it appealing to them? How do we handle disappointment and setbacks? Do we interact with strangers and those in need with compassion and grace? How do we celebrate success? Do we see it as a reflection of our achievements or as the natural outcome of a greater plan?

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.”

We cannot always be happy; happiness is conditional. But we can be joyful. We can choose to see life unfolding predictably, even when we do not know the outcome. True followers know the outcome is in our best interest, even when it does not align with our plan.

We have an inner strength that gives us confidence in our abilities and keeps us from being dependent on others. We don’t compete with others because our plans differ from theirs. That is not to say we aren’t competitive, but that we see value in both winning and losing. Both have lessons worth learning.

Is there a calmness in our everyday life that is enviable? Is Christ merely a mythical figure who promises life after death, or is He real in the life I am living today? Does my life have meaning and value, or is it merely temporary and difficult to endure?

1 Timothy 4:8b, “but godliness has value for all things, holding promise for both the present life and the life to come.”

Is Christianity a goal worth my time?

Most practicing Christians ebb and flow. They see God’s hand in everyday events when they look for it, but miss the ones they were too busy to notice. Christians can see the value of compassion when it is a choice, but miss it amid a chaotic moment. They are good at implementing projects for the good of others, but often fail when life is thrust upon them.

We are all a work in progress. We are being prepared for what is next. Preparation is an active process that requires diligence and perseverance. So I ask again: As a Christian thrust into the role of leadership, are you giving others a goal worth their time?

One day at a time, one moment at a time, one decision at a time. Take care of the now, and tomorrow will take care of itself.

James 3:17, “But the wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure; then peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere.”

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.

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.

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.”

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!”

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.”

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.”

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.”

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.”