Every season of life tells a story of change, growth and God’s unshakeable purpose. Our Creator has woven a rhythm of renewal into the fabric of creation. The stillness of winter, the renewal of spring, the strength of summer and the release of autumn all serve as reminders that our hearts also experience spiritual seasons.
Like many of you, I am an avid football fan. We all know that when a football team takes the field, even the most talented quarterback cannot win the game alone! An offensive line must protect him, receivers need to catch the passes he throws, and the defense has to prevent the opposing team from scoring more points than he can help generate. Every player has a role, and victory is only possible when the whole team functions together.
I, like many others, have been profoundly affected and deeply shaken by the tragic loss of Charlie Kirk. He was a man who used his platform to express his beliefs and his unwavering passion, leaving a significant mark on the world. Now that he is gone, it is clear that he indeed made an impact. One of the recurring thoughts in the past few weeks has been that death is not just the end of a life, but also a moment to reveal a legacy. Many people around the world are taking this time to reflect and ask themselves: What will we be remembered for when our time comes?
I was only around 4th or 5th grade when a group of boys and I thought it would be funny to throw paint we had found on the side of Alice Bell Elementary School in the early 1990s. I vividly remember splashes of blue dripping down the brick like graffiti art gone wrong. The laughter died quickly when we found ourselves sitting before Dr. LeCoultre, the principal, with blue hands and a guilty look. I expected the worst and remembered feeling my heart beat through the wall of that thin 10-year-old chest wall.
Life, at times, can be confusing. The twists, the turns, and the expectancies often leave us feeling lost and uncertain. One moment, we seem to be sailing smoothly, and the next, we’re tossed about in stormy seas that make it extremely difficult to navigate. When a direction requires a decision to be made, it can sometimes be hard to discern the best path forward. Even with the greatest of plans and intentions, the unpredictability of life can throw us off course, leaving us confused, frustrated, and searching for answers.
It began with a barely noticeable hairline crack in the dam that was easy to overlook. The man who owned the land saw it, but convinced himself it wasn’t urgent. Repairs would be expensive, and besides, the dam had held for years. So, he decided to ignore it. Year after year, the pressure slowly built behind the wall until one night, long after the man had passed, the dam gave way. His son, who was now living on the land, woke to a roar of water sweeping through the valley, destroying crops, homes, and everything in its path.
The intention of this article is not political. I assure you that it does not lean toward Republican rhetoric or Democratic declarations. There is no attempt to sway you, the reader, into forming an opinion about the geopolitical chaos we see across the world today. Instead, I want to express a deeper truth that I encountered through a text message that went viral from former governor and current U.S. ambassador to Israel, Mike Huckabee to the president.
Grief is a really weird thing. It doesn’t always make sense. It doesn’t follow the rules. It never asks for permission to invade. It shows up in the strangest times and the weirdest ways.
I am currently reading and studying the early days of David, the shepherd from Bethlehem, and his rise to become the king of Israel. I was particularly struck by the message in 2 Samuel 1, which offers one of the most unexpected responses to loss found in the Bible. David, a warrior and the future king, is devastated upon hearing of the deaths of Saul and Jonathan. He breaks down, weeps, and experiences deep pain.
“You steer where you stare.”
I recently heard this statement from Jimmy Dykes, an ESPN and SEC basketball analyst, while speaking to a group of seniors from Gibbs High School. It conveys a powerful truth: The things we regularly focus on ultimately shape the direction of our lives. In other words, where we direct our attention often captures our hearts. What we choose to look at or allow to dominate our mental and spiritual vision will inevitably influence who we become and where we go in life.
It all began with an unexpected package from Amazon—there was no note, just my name and the package from a kind, mysterious sender. Inside the plain white bubble-wrapped package was a book titled “Who Believed in You?” I had never heard of it before, but something about the title intrigued me. As I flipped through the pages, one chapter in particular reached into my chest and gripped my heart. It discussed a hidden superpower we all possess but rarely acknowledge: Trustworthiness. Not fame, charisma, or talent, but rather the quiet, steady strength of being someone others can depend on.